Vernon thought for a moment. ‘Even Eve out there, she lets him do what he wants?’

‘Ah, no, she’s alright.’ Caleb bunched his eyes again. ‘She just does what she’s told. I don’t think she likes it much.’

‘Told by who?’

‘The governor. He gets paid off, obviously, but even he’s afraid of the Cahills. You know, what they’d do to him. So he just doesn’t get in the way, really.’

Vernon reached onto the bed, sitting forward, and put one hand gently on his son’s leg. ‘Is this all of it?’

‘The damage?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Most of it, this time, yeah.’ Caleb sat up a bit. ‘How’s Mum?’

‘Mum’s okay. Misses you.’

‘She never came . . .’

Vernon nodded at this. Then, ‘We were wrong, mate. Both of us.’

Caleb frowned. Seemed to accept it.

Vernon said, ‘You’ve only got a bit left in here, right?’

‘Half a year or so, yeah,’ and his boy smiled. ‘I’ll be getting out for this weekend, too.’

‘What? Why?’

‘For the prisoners on the run thing they do.’

‘Ah, that’s right. Forgot they did that.’

‘I’m lucky I get to go with this,’ Caleb said, holding up his wrist.

‘They said it was alright?’

‘Long as I don’t bang it on anything.’

‘Bloody ridiculous they let you lot out for that.’

‘They say it’s to help us integrate. Everyone in here is on the last year of their sentence, here on good behaviour.’

‘Still bloody stupid.’ Vernon said. He looked at his son, saw his eyes, how betrayed he seemed. ‘I don’t mean for you, mate, I mean letting prisoners out for a jog.’

‘Governor lets us all go. So no reason I can’t.’

‘And he said he’d be back? Brendan?’

‘Well,’ Caleb said. ‘He said he owes me another three years’ worth of beatings. So I imagine he’ll be back. He’ll have to squeeze two into one day this rate.’

‘Bloody hell.’

‘So Mum’s okay?’

‘She’s good, mate.’

‘Will she come visit now?’

Vernon wanted to avoid this line of questioning. ‘Yeah, I imagine so.’

‘And you? You’ll be here more now?’

‘Yeah, mate. I’ll be here.’

He sat there with his son for another twenty minutes then and talked about all manner of things. Often he had to look away as his boy spoke. Couldn’t look at that scarred face. He knew, though, that he would not abandon him again. He saw it all now clear as day. He’d hidden behind his lofty ideals––that the boy needed the prison and abandonment to feel the full weight of his crimes—but, really, Vernon had just been scared. Not wanting to feel pain. A coward.

On the way home he passed by the bowls club and so he parked the car and walked inside. His wife was seated with her friends at a table in the near-dark. The pokies were glowing brightly, covering their faces in oranges, yellows and greens. She looked just like them all, their whites flashing the same colours as their faces. The fattest one, Margie, echoed a guffaw as he approached, tilting her head back like a duck swallowing. She kept on at it as he stood at the side of the circle.