‘Your dad’s cool,’ I admit, after we pull into the scariest place I’ve ever seen. It’s at the end of a nothing road with no one around for kilometres. A padlocked gate, cold wind whistling around large abandoned buildings that look like old factories or warehouses. Jeremy’s Valiant is the only car in the patchy gravel car park. I couldn’t even tell you what suburb we’re in.

‘I don’t think I’d go that far, but he’s okay,’ says Chloe. ‘Actually he owes me this, because he’s not around much.’

‘Sounds like my dad.’ I realise too late that Chloe means her father doesn’t live with them at all. To cover up, I kick a beer can lying in the dust and squint at the empty desolate horizon. Real smooth Natalia, you’re such a nice girl from a nice nuclear family.

Jeremy saunters back from smoking a rollie cigarette and looking up into a gum tree.

‘What did you have there, Dad?’ Chloe asks.

‘That’d be the Yellow-Breasted Warbling Tooter,’ Jeremy replies, and a pleased look passes between them. Those two freaks don’t even smile when they crack jokes.

Jeremy helps us drag Chloe’s stuff out of the boot and it’s when they’re side by side that I can finally see that they’re related. They look like the type to go camping and chop wood and fix cars with their bare hands. I can barely lift some of the bags, but Jeremy hoists them as if they’re nothing.

‘What is this place?’ I ask. After relaxing—sort of—during the drive, my nerves rise again, a bird trapped in my chest beating its wings faster and faster.

‘It’s an industrial park used by craftspeople and small businesses,’ Jeremy answers with a black canvas bag balanced on each shoulder. ‘I work in the furniture workshop on the other side.’

We drag the whole heap of junk into a low brick building and dump it inside a reception area. Chloe waves her dad away.

‘This way.’

I follow Chloe into a darker section of the building, where my eyes are slow to adjust. I lose track of my own feet as we shuffle further into the gloom. Chloe pops a door, a big metal thing with rubber seals that suck and pull apart. She flicks a switch and fluorescent lights blink into existence. I look inside with her. It smells unusual.

‘Here?’

‘Yep. Amazing that the power’s still on, isn’t it?’

We step through and the heavy door clunks shut behind us, only making me jump about a kilometre high. There are tiles on the walls and a concrete floor and the dot-dot-dash of the fluoro lights glare above.

‘What is this?’

‘A meat locker.’

‘A whatsy?’ A chill races through me, above and beyond the chill already in the air.

‘You know, a really big fridge. They could have kept meat here, or maybe it was cheese or veggies. Who knows.’

Chloe’s voice echoes slightly. She lays down the bags she’s been carrying.