He said, ‘I have to ask you something.’

With keys in hand, I closed my eyes. I tongued my tattered cheeks.

‘Sure,’ I said.

‘Is Vivian with you?’

I opened my eyes.

‘What do you mean?’ I said. ‘No.’

I slid in my key.

‘Where are you, Chris L? Are you at home?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘I’m at the beach.’

‘After checkout?’ I said dumbly.

‘All his things are here.’

His voice was crackly, ghostly.

‘That doesn’t make any sense,’ I said. ‘Is the car still there?’

‘Yes,’ he said, ‘it’s my rental. I don’t know what to do.’

‘Do you have his parents’ number?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Can you come back here?’

I shook my head, of course not. ‘I don’t think so,’ I said.

‘I don’t want to be alone here!’

I shook my head again. ‘No,’ I said.

‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said.

‘Chris L,’ I began. And then the door yanked open from the inside – the key in the lock, my hand on the key.

It was Dan, and he had one of those towels wrapped around his waist, with another wrapped around his hair. ‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Please come inside. What are you, a fishmonger?’

I looked at my phone. I’d hung up, or Chris L had.

‘Because fishmongers spend lots of time loudly talking outdoors,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I’m glad you’re here. Follow me.’ He marched upstairs.

I followed him up, zombied, and he sat on the edge of his bed.

‘I missed you today,’ he said. ‘Happy new year. Sit down with me.’ He tightened the towel around his waist and patted the side of the bed.

‘It’s not even the new year,’ I murmured. But I did as he said.

‘I keep wanting to talk to you.’

I stared at the phone in my hand.

‘Okay,’ I said.

His hand on the bed. I looked at it. Where I was meant to be.

‘I’m moving in with Lachlan,’ he said. ‘Isn’t that exciting?’

I dropped the phone.

‘Very cool,’ I said.

And strangely, I was dead.

PART 3

THE NATURAL CONCLUSION

You held out your hand for an egg, and fate put into it a scorpion.

Charlotte Brontë

I was sitting very straight. My chest was turned towards him.

I told him it was wonderful.

‘That’s wonderful news,’ I said.

It was another automatism; I did not choose to speak. But I told him I loved Lachlan, and Lachlan was a catch, and everything would be just fine, and did I mention – Lachlan?