He’d stood up before he realised it. ‘No fucking way. You’d put Kane at that much risk?’

‘. . . Davey did.’ She had cringed away from him. He realised he was standing over her and sat back down.

‘Davey knew what he was doing,’ said Mackerel.

‘And so would you! That’s why it’s better you than me!’ said Shelby.

‘Shelbs, the cops would be onto me like a rash! No way! You will not —’

He cut himself off. Kane had appeared at the door to the rooftop, eyes squinting with interrupted sleep.

Davey’s son walked across the deck, his eyes on his mum. ‘I heard shouting.’

Mackerel waited for Shelby to do something, but all she said was, ‘Do you want a hot chocolate, Kane?’

‘Yeah,’ said Kane. ‘Why were you shouting?’

‘I’ll tell you later. Just rest there while I go make you some.’

Fiona pulled her phone out and scrolled her feeds, while Mackerel felt the alcohol dragging at his consciousness.

‘Why are you shirtless, Uncle Mack?’ said Kane with a frown.

‘He was showing us how many push-ups he could do,’ said Fiona. She yawned. ‘I wasn’t that impressed.’

A flare of anger. ‘Fiona accidentally lit a stick on fire. I had to use my shirt to put it out.’

‘A stick?’ said Kane.

‘Yeah, the one she usually keeps up her arse.’

Kane burst into laughter, and Mackerel grinned.

Fiona’s face twitched in fury. She glared at him, then pointedly turned away with a muttering comment.

Shelby returned with the hot chocolate, but she wasn’t in a rush to send her son to bed. She embraced Kane and comforted him, allowed him to stay up with them while they talked about more innocuous things. Mack went along with the ploy, quizzing Kane about the upcoming footy season, his teammates, his coach. In time the boy grew tired again, and before long he dropped his head onto a cushion on the bench and began snoring.

Shelby gave him a smile of triumph, holding Mackerel’s eyes. You could fix all this.

That powerful protective urge was swamping him, but he tried to push it down.

‘Mack. You’d have money and status. You’d have your own mansion,’ said Shelby. ‘You’d be the best guy in town.’

‘Please don’t start again,’ he said. ‘I can’t . . .’

‘Can’t what?’ said Fiona, as though it were the most casual conversation in the world. ‘You said it yourself – all you’ve got to do is cook good quality ice, right? Get it into Blackbeard’s hands, find out who he is, and get rid of him. We’ll help you. Just break it down into steps.’

‘You don’t understand,’ said Mackerel.

‘We do,’ said Shelby. She watched Kane’s chest rise and fall in soft snores.