‘The roo hurt him. I didn’t mean none of that.’

‘You’re the one put him there,’ Ernie said. ‘Just piss off.’

Vernon looked at Brendan again. ‘You going to stop?’

‘I’m not stopping nothing. I’m going to snap his other arm, I reckon. Yeah, Dad,’ he said, turning his eyes to his father. ‘I know I didn’t tell you what I was doing but I don’t give a toss because I’d still do it. That bloke, his son’—pointing a finger at Vernon—‘beat up on Mel. You know Mel?’

‘Shut up, Brendan,’ Ernie said, his voice low and measured. ‘I’m going to turn to face you, Moore, alright?’

‘Yeah. Turn around.’

Ernie wheeled and upon sight of Sidney’s face Vernon felt tremendous pressure in his gut, like he was about to throw up. He managed, ‘Listen. I’m sorry––’

‘Just piss off. Three times I’ve said it now. I’ll talk to Brendan about stopping.’

‘Yeah?’

‘This isn’t how you do things. You don’t come up to a man’s house with his son bloodied and just get your way.’

Vernon nodded meekly. ‘I didn’t see I had a choice.’

‘You could’ve just come up and talked to me.’

‘I didn’t know where you were.’

‘Bullshit.’

‘You heard your son, mate. I needed him to know I was serious.’

‘Serious says I’m coming for you, old man,’ Brendan shouted.

Ernie sighed. ‘I am sorry on my son’s behalf for what he’s done. But don’t mistake that for forgiveness,’ he said, and tilted his head towards Sidney. ‘I am not done with you.’

‘But you’ll get him to leave off my boy?’

‘I just said I will.’

‘Alright then.’ Vernon looked at Sidney. ‘You’ll be alright.’

‘Piss off, old man,’ Ernie said. ‘You take that car back to where you found it. And if you’ve screwed us . . .’

The implied threat was clear. They turned then and the two, father and son, shuffled up to the verandah. The young woman caught Sidney in her arms, who almost fell up the steps. Vernon watched them as he lowered himself into the car, gun across his lap, and shut the door. Ernie didn’t turn around. Brendan’s eyes never left Vernon. As his father passed he said, loudly, ‘What about the stuff, dad?’

Ernie stopped walking. Said, almost too quiet for Vernon to hear, ‘Melbourne’ll still want it, and that old man won’t do anything different than I told him. Will you?’

Ernie still didn’t turn around. They went inside. The pig swung. Vernon wound the window up and backed slowly down the driveway.

He drove the car back to his own and parked where he thought it had been. He studied his car beneath the glare of the one working headlight. He struggled with his next move. His car illuminated like some lantern in the dark. Upon exit the cold bit into him and he clenched his jacket tight around his middle. Some kangaroos bounded from him in the dark. He climbed in and started his car.