‘We have to go, Lexie. Quickly. My ex is coming. He found us. He’s dangerous.’

For an instant, I wondered if she meant that Marty was her ex. She’d never said the man’s name.

‘He’s violent,’ Deirdre added, and muttered softly, ‘just like your husband.’

‘What are you talking about?’

‘You don’t have to deny it anymore,’ Deirdre told me. ‘We’ve all been through the same thing. Victims of violent men. Don’t worry—I’ve got Bob’s shotgun ready.’

The white-haired gardener nodded at her ute. This woman, who could be mistaken for a kindly grandmother, had a look of steel in her eyes.

‘Marty has never been violent to me,’ I said.

My husband always thought he knew best—that was his personality. Sometimes I disagreed with him; sometimes I was able to change his mind. Never had he hurt me physically. But I didn’t know if he had hurt our son. Or hidden our daughter to teach me a lesson.

‘You can stop covering for him. Elissa and I have been watching him. We’re your guardian angels.’

Deirdre smiled reassuringly at me; her smile sent goosebumps down my neck. Watching Marty? What did she mean? And why had she called Mel by that name, Elissa—where had I heard it before? Staring at the house and surrounding sheds, I tried to remember. The wind rushed through the gum leaves, like the whispers of small children. I listened again.

Towards the back of the property, in the distance, sat a stone chapel and the rectangular shape of tombstones. For a moment, the wind stopped; the stillness in the air settled on me and I felt the ghosts of generations that had gone before.

‘We know he did that to your cheek.’ Mel pointed at my face. ‘And he broke Bella’s wrist.’

‘Elissa told me that you turned up to playgroup with bruises every single week. And I was there when he hurt you and Bella. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from him.’

The gardener must have misinterpreted what she saw. My negligence had led to Bella’s injury. If Deirdre knew, would she turn the shotgun on me?

I suddenly recalled where I’d heard Elissa’s name: the cheerful hospital volunteer who Marty used to talk about all the time. Oh my God, were Mel and Elissa the same person? Had she been watching Marty at work and me at playgroup?

I had to make them see the truth. ‘Deirdre, I didn’t come to playgroup with bruises every week. I don’t know why Mel would say that. Marty did not hurt me.’

Deirdre frowned at the younger woman, a question in her eyes. Where was Marty? Hiding with Bella somewhere out here? If I told the truth, would it help me find her?

Taking a deep breath, ignoring the tremor in my voice, I admitted it.