‘It doesn’t work that way,’ said Linda. ‘The courts set the rules, not me.’

‘Alright . . .’ said Shelby.

‘I’ll see you soon. You’ve got my mobile, yeah? Give me a call any time.’ She headed out.

‘It’s not fair you can’t stay at ours,’ said Shelby.

‘Davey will be home soon,’ said Mackerel. ‘I wouldn’t worry about it.’

‘And if he’s not? Having the cops outside is all well and good, but right now, I won’t feel comfortable in there without anyone but family.’

‘Well, you know, you could ask Ahab . . .?’

‘If Ivy found out, she’d disown me.’

He snorted. ‘So it’s okay to invite me along, but not Ahab?’

‘I’d rather fight for you than Ahab.’

Mackerel’s cheeks warmed, and he looked away. ‘Honestly, I’m sure Davey will be back soon. Nothing to worry about. You know Davey’s always right wherever he needs to be.’

‘So you won’t come?’

‘Shelby, if he finds me in your house . . . Look, I’m sure he’ll be back soon.’

She threw up her hands. ‘Fine, I’ll go call Constable Linda then, shall I? Tell her we still need her to babysit?’

She stalked from the room, leaving Mackerel alone. He headed for the back door, hands in his pockets, before he had too much time to think.

Mackerel descended the back steps and headed along the windy beach, sand in his eyes, the stink of kelp and a rotting seal carcass in his nose. It was hard to walk on the sand with his limp, but he walked the beach whenever he could. A few tourists still stood on the shore, taking photos of the cross sea, oblivious to him. He navigated around them, still thinking about why he’d turned Shelby down, wondering if he’d made the right choice.

Afraid of Davey. Afraid of Ivy. Letting Shelby down . . .

He made his way to the Seaglass Café and took his usual place in the back.

A minute later, Salvatore was there across from him, arms folded. He brought Mackerel his usual flat white.

‘What’s wrong? You’re pale.’

‘Just . . . family stuff.’

‘It’s always family stuff with you Dempseys. And you’re always looking back. You think I didn’t see you leaving with Shelby Dempsey? The way she held on to you for support?’ He leaned forward. ‘If this isn’t the moment for reconciliation, when is? You should be ecstatic!’

‘I am! I’m . . . Forest is alive! But . . . I just have to tread carefully, Sal. You know how it is. You know they don’t trust me.’