The car trundled up the driveway and stopped before the house. It wasn’t a car that Sidney knew. He was on the verandah with Amy, playing with her dollhouse, trying not to strain his arm. Amy was making the dolls collide with each other, knocking down her father’s efforts with unrestrained pleasure. She giggled as she struck his blocks and sent them sprawling, a small dam of colour.

‘Brendan!’ he shouted now, standing up, his eyes not leaving the car.

‘What?’ his brother said, from inside.

‘You hear the car?’

‘Who is it?’

‘Don’t know.’

Nobody was getting out. Sidney squinted to see who was inside. The driver killed the engine. Then the door opened and out stepped the old man. He was limping.

‘You got the gun this time?’ Sidney demanded. He looked to his daughter.

‘No, mate,’ the old man said. ‘No gun.’

Sidney looked at him. The old man’s face was swollen and he was slumped over. He had been on the receiving end of something bad. He was holding his belly as though he had been gored.

Brendan appeared beside Sidney. ‘What do you want?’ he said to the old man. Coldness in his voice.

‘Just want a chat with Ernie.’

‘You bring your gun?’

‘Ask your brother.’

Brendan leaned over to Sidney. ‘You take Amy inside.’

Sidney scooped up his daughter. As he turned to go he caught the old man’s eyes and saw shock.

‘Didn’t realise you had a little one.’

‘Yeah. Well.’

Sidney walked inside. He shuffled down the hallway. Their father was on his bed, his feet up, reading a novel, an alien of some sort on the front. He looked up as his son entered the room.

‘Who’s outside?’

‘The old bloke. Vernon?’

His father instantly stood. He strode down the hallway and only said, ‘You give that girl to her mother.’

Sidney followed. He entered his room and saw his wife on their bed, staring at the ceiling. Either deep in thought or completely out of it.

‘You need to take Amy.’

‘Why?’

‘You just do, alright? Here.’

He placed his daughter on the bed. Sarah remained lying down, his daughter clambering over her as he shut the door.

There were voices in the kitchen. He heard the kettle being boiled. He went in and found the three of them already around the table.

The old man looked up at Sidney and smiled sadly. ‘Count the days with her, mate. Like that’ —he clicked his fingers—‘and they’ll be grown up and arguing with you.’

Sidney did not know what to say to this. He sat down next to his father, who said, ‘So what do you want, Moore?’

The old man sighed. ‘Suppose you know why I’m looking like this.’

Ernie said nothing, had his arms crossed.

‘Anyway. I came up here to call a truce. I want to apologise for taking the car, for taking your son by gun point. I was wrong.’

‘Bloody right you were,’ Brendan said, not looking at Vernon. Ernie’s face betrayed nothing.