He nodded. ‘Legs hurt.’

‘Why?’

He stared a moment before saying, ‘You going out?’

‘I’ve been out. Got some groceries.’

‘Did you get the ham? For the Easter thing with my brother?’

‘We’re going to that?’ she asked.

‘We’re not?’

‘We didn’t talk about it.’

‘We always go.’

‘I know, but with things with Caleb . . .’

He turned away from her, massaged his calves.

She said, ‘Where’s your car?’

‘What?’

‘Our other car? Your car.’

He turned back to her. ‘You want to spend Easter with Caleb now?’

She nodded, slow and thoughtful. So. He’d maybe helped, maybe given her permission to reconnect. Done something good. If there was such a thing.

She said, ‘I thought we could. This year. Might be nice for him. Stop avoiding the question. Where’s the car?’

‘He’s doing that run thing, though.’

‘After that, I thought. Vernon, where’s your car?’

‘I had to leave it.’

‘Where?’

‘Can we continue this in the kitchen? I want to get something to eat.’

At the kitchen counter she stood on the opposite side to him with both hands palms down. He felt the separation between them. Out the window was Snake Island. His escape. It’d be so easy to head out there. Get in the boat and just go.

He put bread in the toaster, got out the butter and Vegemite and looked at her while he waited for his toast to spring.

‘I had to leave the car. It got smashed.’

‘Smashed how?’

‘We hit a kangaroo.’

‘In the car? Who’s “we”?’

‘Yes, in the car,’ he said. He looked at the toaster. ‘Well, our car didn’t hit it.’

‘Would you just bloody tell me what happened?’ she said, tapping her hands on the benchtop. ‘And don’t lie to me, Vernie. I can tell when you’re keeping stuff from me, you know I can.’

‘Well, like Margie said, they were down that old dirt road out near Callahan’s. It was the younger Cahill boy out there. They were looking to trade drugs with some people from Melbourne. I interrupted that. We went back to their place. I was in the passenger seat, he was driving. And we hit a kangaroo.’

‘In their car?’

‘Yes. And he was hurt. So I took care of him and took him back to his dad’s.’

‘Weren’t they mad?’

‘They were mad to begin with but I think he’ll be fine.’

‘The younger one is Sidney?’

‘Yeah, that’s him. He’ll be alright. The roo cut him up a bit, though.’

‘And so what happened to your car?’

His toast sprang up and he grabbed it. While he buttered he said, ‘So I drove their car back to my car. Plan was to leave it the same way I found it. But when I got back to my car somebody had slashed the tyres.’

‘Somebody? Who?’

‘I don’t know who.’

‘Vernie—’

‘Don’t Vernie me.’

‘You know what I heard down the street? That there were some blokes from Melbourne in the pub last night, gave that young policeman Jack a bit of a hiding. I bet it was them, looking for the drugs. Dirty business.’