Evelyn was standing at the kitchen countertop scraping a minuscule dab of olive oil margarine over wholegrain bread.

‘Jake’s here for your father,’ Maria said. ‘I’ll let him know.’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘Remember to finish the ironing tonight, please?’

Evelyn tsked. ‘Of course.’ She put down her knife. ‘Would you like a sandwich?’ she offered Jake.

‘I’m not hungry thanks.’

Jake watched Evelyn create a sparsely filled but perfectly constructed sandwich, slicing it diagonally and placing it on her plate.

‘I didn’t eat much at dinnertime.’

She didn’t need to justify her sandwich to Jake. ‘Okay?’

She waved the butter knife at him. ‘It’s just, you know.’

He really didn’t. ‘If you’re hungry, have the sandwich.’

She sniffed.

One of her brothers—Kayden, from memory—swooped in from the corridor. ‘Oh, great, sis,’ he reached over, grabbed both halves of her sandwich, said, ‘Thanks,’ stuffed one half in his mouth and went back into the corridor.

Evelyn closed her eyes, took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

‘I’ll take you to Father’s study,’ she said as she opened her eyes. ‘You can wait for him in there.’

The shelf-lined room, filled with orderly rows of books, was cooler than the rest of the house. Evelyn picked up a long wooden tube that had been decorated with dots of red paint and red wax at either end. It was one of several in the study.

She turned it on an angle. Tiny patters of sound came from inside.

‘It’s a rainmaker.’

Jake listened closely. It did actually sound like the first drops of rain on a tin roof.

The first genuine smile Jake had seen Evelyn give played across her face. ‘I love closing my eyes and seeing the drops in my mind.’ Her smile fell away. ‘Is that silly?’

‘I’ve seen them in stores, but never heard one. What’s in it?’

‘Little beads, I think.’

It looked like he’d have to make small talk until Kelly arrived. He’d noticed she hadn’t asked about Amelia at all. That was fine with him.

What could he ask about in her world? ‘So how do you find living right next door to your parents?’

She flipped the rainmaker in the opposite direction, her attention still mostly on the shower of beads inside. ‘It’s a good strategy long-term. I’m saving to buy a house, and they don’t charge me much rent.’

Kelly cleared his throat.

They both looked up.

He filled the doorway. ‘I’ve asked you not to touch items in my study,’ he said to Evelyn.

She placed the rainmaker back in its stand and walked out of the room without a word.

‘So, how’s the girl?’ Kelly asked Jake as they took seats on either side of his enormous wooden desk.

*

The sun had barely begun to glow through Dunton’s blanket of fog when Jake poured his third cup of instant coffee and continued to slurp on his soggy cereal. To the strains of a neighbour's off-key rooster, he reflected on how deeply he had taken Melbourne’s café breakfasts for granted.