Jack had texted a couple of times but had not told him too much of what had been happening. You’re on holidays and there hasn’t been anything I haven’t been able to handle, had been the response when he’d asked what was going on. Dave grinned to himself as he thought about the message. He’d been quietly and gently put in his place! Jack had, however, sent a photo of Bob, the old kelpie Dave had inherited when a farmer he’d helped had died. In the picture Bob was curled up in his bed under Jack’s desk and the caption was: Not missing you.

Dave had sent back a smart reply: Good spot for stinking you out. Bob was known for his revolting farts.

When they’d left, Dave and Kim had patted the old dog goodbye, not sure whether he would be there when they came home, he was so old and decrepit. Still, it seemed he was still kicking, and Dave was pleased about that. He hadn’t had a pet in a long time, and he’d been surprised at how much he enjoyed Bob’s gentle company at his feet most nights. Even though he stank the house out often!

The town entrance came into view and he smiled. There was no place like home. It didn’t look like anything had changed much; not that he’d expected it to. This was Barker and nothing changed in years, let alone weeks.

‘Looking forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight,’ he said, looking over at Kim. ‘Are you?’

She nodded.

Dave raised his eyebrows. Oh. Things were bad.

He flicked the blinker on and turned the corner into their street. As their house came into view, he felt contentment washing over him. He was home.

Perth was a lovely place to visit, but Western Australia wasn’t home anymore. To Dave home was two eyes and a heartbeat. Kim. But home also meant the house they’d bought together in their town.

Unwittingly memories of the last three weeks with his family resurfaced. Dean, his brother, had got his arm caught in an auger five months ago, and although he’d been released from hospital, he and his wife, Mandy, were living in Perth while he went through rehab and learned to live with an arm that didn’t work. Their mum had come down from Northam and stayed in a little unit near Scarborough. Every day they had walked on the beach and talked, but Dave, no matter how he’d tried, hadn’t been able to rid himself of the anger he felt every time he saw both his mother and Dean. As far as he was concerned, they were both traitors.

‘Someone’s moved into that house at the end of the street.’ Kim finally broke her three-hour silence. ‘Look, there’s a car in the driveway.’

‘Don’t recognise it.’ He paused as he read the numberplate. ‘Must be someone new in town. Wonder who it is. Maybe Jack knows.’

‘I’ll go over and take a cake later. Make them feel welcome.’