The grandfather clock that had always stood on the right-hand side of the hallway was still there. Apart from its hands being stopped at the wrong hour, the old homestead was so complete that Tony and his new wife would be able to move in after the wedding.

James sat in the patch of sun that was spreading over the top step, and watched it rise above Deloraine.

Aunty Doris and Yvonne were sitting in the kitchen when James wandered back to Deloraine. His aunt announced the phone had rung twice while he was on his ‘little adventure’.

At eight, it had been the news that his mother would not be arriving for lunch. That had been bumped-back to afternoon tea, so Uncle Bill and Aunty Doris had driven over to collect Tony’s motorbike from the bowling club.

At nine, it had been Dad wondering where his youngest son was.

‘I’ll have to ring Daniel now you’ve decided to turn up,’ Aunty Doris said. ‘I told your mother about the accident, but that she wasn’t to worry, so don’t just disappear again, alright?’

‘You know what boys are like,’ Yvonne said, parroting what she’d heard of the night’s events.

‘How did Alan look today?’ Aunty Doris asked.

James shrugged. ‘He was sleeping.’

‘Best thing,’ Yvonne said, before her mother could.

‘That’s right,’ Aunty Doris added. ‘He’s going to be sore, so you’re to leave him alone. Your father should let him stay in bed as long as he wants. Your mother stopped overnight,’ she added, making it sound like a bad thing.

There was a stigma in not making it all the way from the city in one day, motels being an unnecessary expense. James knew it. They all knew it, but he said, ‘It’s fun to stay in a motel’, and went over to make himself some toast.

Yvonne chewed, wide-eyed at his comeback. Her mother rinsed something at the sink and flicked it harshly onto the drying rack, then disappeared into the office to call Dad.

When James went to check on Tony, he was still asleep in the bed James had been using, mouth agape and snoring lightly.

On the other bed, a pile of laundered clothes sat at an accusatory angle that could only have been achieved by his aunt. James quietly sorted through his things and worked out what to wear.

His cousin seemed far too large for the bed, which bowed under his bulk. James spoke his name, which half-woke Tony for a few moments, but he turned over and faced the wall, scratching at his side.

‘Want to help with the family tree?’ James said. ‘We’ve only got today and tomorrow.’

‘Huh?’ his cousin said, after a moment.

‘Shall I just finish the family tree?’