‘I’ll show you,’ said Shelby, leading Mackerel up the stairs. It was a boy’s dream bedroom – big bed, posters, toys and gadgets and a little bookcase, plus a gaming computer, and a charging station for his MacBook and iPad.

Shelby fluffed the pillows and he laid Kane down, stepping back to let Shelby tuck Kane under the covers. When Mackerel made to leave, Shelby grabbed his arm. ‘Look at him. He’s finally found a bit of peace.’

‘Yeah,’ said Mackerel, flushed with alcohol and a feeling of victory. ‘We had fun.’

‘He misses his dad,’ she said softly.

‘Yeah,’ said Mackerel, ‘I don’t blame him. Poor kid.’

Before they left Shelby flicked on a nightlight. ‘He still sleeps with it on,’ she explained. ‘He has nightmares without it. Don’t tell him I told you. I think he’s taking a liking to you.’

Mackerel didn’t know what to say to that, but his chest swelled.

‘He needs us,’ said Mackerel.

‘What he needs is his dad,’ said Shelby, voice hard. ‘C’mon.’

Halfway down the stairwell, lit by soft downlights, Shelby pointed at a portrait of Davey – good-looking, laughing – flanked by Shelby and Kane. ‘Look at him,’ whispered Shelby. ‘He’s still alive. He can still have this. It’s killing me that I can’t tell Kane he’s not dead.’

Shelby still didn’t understand. As painful as it was for all three of them, Davey had left so she and Kane could still have some semblance of normality.

‘Shelby . . .’ began Mackerel, but Shelby led him down the stairs.

‘What do you want to drink? Anything out of the cupboard.’

‘Anything?’ said Mackerel.

CHAPTER 31

AHAB

It was late at night, and Ahab strolled along one of Shacktown’s beachside streets. Wearing a singlet and shorts, he was barefoot and could feel the she-oak needles beneath his feet. Wealthy houses rose either side of him, but they were interspersed by fibro shacks, and even a large empty block, which was home only to a few tethered goats.

Up ahead was a huge whitewashed house set in the middle of a large block. It belonged to Chips, although she didn’t seem to maintain it all that well – the walls were covered in moss, and the gutters needed clearing. But the yard itself was immaculate, the garden well tended.

He needed to speak to Chips about keeping Blackbeard from winning the loyalty of the crew. The more he sat with the thought, the more the danger of a drug war in Shacktown seemed to grow in his mind. The town wasn’t big enough to handle it – the whole community would break.

But as he approached Chips’s house, he could hear music coming from the backyard, and a burst of rowdy laughter. She had guests. Smoke from a fire pot was in the air, a glow trailing up it.