He had agreed not to make contact with Shelby, or Kane. His brother felt that Mackerel would corrupt his son, or slip up and say something to Shelby about the Business – he kept that side of his income secret from his wife. Or he feared that, just by being around Mackerel, whose criminal history was available to anyone who wanted to google him, Shelby would put two and two together and grow suspicious.

As if Mackerel would ever tell. Family business stayed family business. No matter how far Mackerel fell, he still had standards. He still followed the code. Shelby wouldn’t find out about the Business from him. Not even with his dying breath.

He may have broken the code once, when he tried to take over the Business, but he had been a different person back then.

Right now, with Shelby in the Seaglass Café, still speaking to that local woman, was as close as he’d been to her in years. But what would he do if he approached her and she flinched away from him?

Now he saw a waitress bringing her a paper package – probably takeaway fish and chips. He couldn’t wait any longer.

He knocked over his coffee as he rushed towards her, startling a tourist family and prompting the waitress to come dashing over with a tea towel.

He didn’t have time to apologise, his mind was on this one chance.

‘Shelby,’ he called, too loudly.

She pulled off her Ray-Bans. Her hazel eyes widened. ‘Mackerel? What on earth . . . I thought you were in jail?’

She hadn’t even known he was in town?

Belatedly, he gave her a wide smile. ‘No, I . . . I’m out on bail. Have been for three months.’

‘Three months? Have you told Davey?’ said Shelby.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘He knows. Listen . . .’ He glanced around at the people watching the scene he’d caused. Why did he always cause a scene? His shoulders hunched up to his ears. ‘Can we step outside?’

Kane looked up at him with vague recognition. Fourteen years old now, he was the spitting image of Davey. He carried the same easy weight of wealth, and had the healthy glow of a child who was loved and nurtured.

There was an awkward silence. Shelby fiddled with the paper wrapping of her food and then walked out onto the café’s verandah. Mackerel followed, into the heavy wind.

‘Are you okay?’ he blurted. ‘About Forest?’