“I think it looks like a butterfly,” Kate said as she passed with an armload of plates.

“It’s a moth.” Laura slipped the sleeve of the shirt gingerly over her wrist.

“No.” Bree shook her head as Laura shrugged the shirt over her shoulders. “Definitely looks like a butterfly.” She flipped the lid off a beer and passed it to Laura with a grin. “Drink?”

Laura didn’t say much over dinner. She was aware of the odd glare from her stony-faced dad but he said nothing more about the tattoo. She got compliments for her roast but she’d been disappointed. There was no crispy crackling like her mum made and the apple sauce was runny.

Olive was full of questions about tailing and more admonishments for not letting her know Natalie was away. “How long will she be away for?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Milt said.

Laura risked a glance at her dad. He sounded fed-up.

“Have you spoken to her?” she asked.

“Not lately.”

He’d said that the last time she’d asked him. He startled her by lunging forward and peering across the table to the far wall.

“Hell, what’s the date? It’s nearly the end of the financial year and the BAS will need to be done soon.”

Laura glanced in the direction of the calendar, too far away to read.

“I can do it,” Bree mumbled.

“It’s not even the end of the month yet,” Kate said. “But I can help so it’s up-to-date when Mum comes home.”

Bree’s look was sceptical.

“Account-keeping is my job, you know. I can do BAS.”

“I think it’s a bit selfish of Natalie really.” Olive started to stack plates and Laura felt the collective breath held by the rest of her family. Olive went on, oblivious. “It’s not like her.”

“No, it’s not.” Milt stood and almost snatched the stack of dirty plates from his mother’s hands. “She usually puts everyone else first before doing something for herself.”

Laura glanced at her sisters, who were looking at their dad as if he’d just revealed a dark family secret.

“Yes, well.” Olive stood and rested her hands stiffly on the back of her chair. “That’s a mother’s lot in life. Now we should get these dishes done. Isn’t there a home football match on the television tonight?”

Kate and Bree both leaped to their feet but Milt surprised them all as he dumped his load of dishes on the bench. “It’s only a few pots, I’ll do them.”

Olive opened and closed her mouth then gave a sharp nod of her head. “Thank you, Milton. I’ll put the kettle on.”