When I get inside, Gabe is hunched over a pan. I kiss him on the cheek. There’s a bouquet of flowers on the table. That’s a surprise.

‘Flowers?’ I say, taking them up, smelling them.

‘Not from me,’ he says, turning away from the pan, his lips twisted in an awkward smile. ‘They’ve just come an hour ago.’

I take the card and turn it over in my hand. Thanks for today, see you soon, Hudson x.

‘July,’ I call into the cavernous house. ‘July!’

‘What?’ her voice comes from upstairs, I look up and see her hanging over the banister, her hair falling around her face in dark curls.

‘Come down here.’

She grunts. ‘I’m busy.’

‘Studying or talking to Hudson?’

‘Studying.’

‘Get down here now, July.’

It took her months to recover from her last break-up, her grades dropped, she was desolate. Now she’s moved on, which I’m grateful for, but she seems to be even keener on this Hudson than the last boy.

‘In the kitchen,’ I say.

She comes through. ‘What is it?’

‘What did you do today?’

She looks guilty. I turn to Gabe, who shrugs.

‘Were you at school?’

‘Yes,’ she says, dragging the word out, exaggerating. Then she notices the flowers on the kitchen bench.

‘So if I call the school, they’ll say you were there?’

‘Oh my God, Mum, it’s study leave. I don’t have to be at the school all day.’

‘So where were you?’

She looks to her father for help, as if Gabe is going to save her. Then she turns back to me. ‘I was at the library in the city, okay? ’

‘Who were you with?’

Her cheeks are glowing now. ‘I’m seventeen, Mum. I can hang out with whoever I like.’

‘Were you with Hudson?’

She doesn’t need to answer, I can see it in her face. ‘Why didn’t you tell us?’

‘Because I didn’t want you to make me go to school. No one else goes to school on study leave. We can study wherever.’

‘That’s beside the point,’ Gabe contributes. ‘We need to know where you are. You can’t take off into the city on a whim. And how much study are you getting done with Hudson?’

‘A lot, actually.’

‘But he’s finished school.’

‘So?’ she says. ‘He’s still studying.’

Studying law of all things. He went to school at Melbourne Grammar, Dad’s a QC and now he’s sending my daughter flowers. I laughed when July had told me, ‘He’s mature, Mum.’ I asked what makes him mature. Her response: ‘I don’t know, he’s focused on uni, and like he doesn’t send selfies.’

I grab the flowers, thrust them towards her. ‘Here,’ I say. ‘Make sure you tell us next time.’