‘I’m sure they’ll enjoy hearing from you, Sullivan,’ she said, as they walked to the exit together.

*

Back at the Montgomery, Olivia and Maxie were both in Olivia’s office, at her computer. It hadn’t been easy for Maxie to get up the stairs but they’d managed. They’d been at their task for five hours.

They were writing down everything they remembered about Jeannie. Even if Eliza didn’t want to talk to them yet, they hoped she’d read their words. They would email it all to her in the morning. Then leave it up to her to decide what would happen next.

Olivia’s computer screen was covered in dates and names. Together they’d put down all they could remember about the times they’d met Jeannie after they left school, the conversations, when and how they’d heard she was pregnant. They’d counted back to when it was most likely that Eliza was conceived. It had to have been in Melbourne, when she was working in that Collingwood pub. They wrote down everything they remembered about meeting Emmet. All Jeannie had said about him and his cousin. Her other housemates. The details they remembered about Emmet’s accident. They re-read every word of Jeannie’s postcards, thankful that Eliza had left them behind. Made a note of as many facts as possible, leaving out the more outlandish stories.

Maxie was now googling ‘Melbourne bashing Irishman’, trying to find Emmet’s surname. Nothing matching the dates came up. Either the incident was too long ago or it hadn’t been reported.

Olivia was going through the folder of paperwork Eliza had brought from Melbourne. They’d both looked at it earlier, hoping it might yield something helpful. Eliza’s school report had been on top. They had read it together, amused and moved by it. The rest of the paperwork appeared to be bundles of bills and old bank statements clipped together. Other odds and ends too – a takeaway menu from their local café, a shopping list in Jeannie’s familiar handwriting.

As Olivia leafed through it, she thought of all she’d leave behind if she was to die suddenly. Emails she’d written to Maxie over the years, expressing frustration with Rory and Alex. The many love notes Edgar had given her. He’d often left them tucked away for her to find, under her pillow, or in the pocket of her favourite coat. She didn’t want anyone else to ever read them.