I was still being careful, I thought, looking around. That was why I was here. That was why I kept coming.

Careful.

We were all just being careful.

AUGUST, ONCE

AUGUST, ONCE

‘I’m sorry again, love. I didn’t even think when I was heading out of the house.’

I looked up at the rear-view mirror, smiled at the reflection of the driver’s eyes. Gerry, the app told me his name was. Gerry had an Irish accent, which softened the bristle of him calling me love. ‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘Really.’

I’d gone to sit behind him, where I always sat. The Caitlin seat, Lina would tease me. Statistically safest. I’d walked across the street and pulled the door open and there had been a bulky grey car seat blocking my way. Gerry had sworn and started apologising—first for the seat, and then for the swearing, then the seat again. He was still apologising by the time I got around to the other side, opened that door. I’d told him it was fine but he kept apologising.

‘I’m pretty new to this gig, I have to confess.’

‘It’s okay.’ I glanced at my phone. There was a message from Lina.

Text me when you get home.

She must have sent it before she even went back into the pub. Of course, Mum, I replied.

‘Busy night?’

‘Nah, just started. Otherwise I would have noticed Luka’s seat earlier.’

I looked out the window.

Ha ha. You sure you’re ok?

‘Is Luka your little one?’

‘Sure is.’

‘Boy or girl?’

‘Boy. As it should be.’ The car turned, and outside I saw a line of trees. I didn’t come to Balmain often, wasn’t sure where we were. ‘Everyone thinks because of the song that Luka is a girl’s name but she was singing about a boy.’

I smiled. ‘Her neighbour, right?’

I’m ok. Just work driving me nuts. Sorry.

‘Yeah.’

The car turned again, onto Victoria Road. My eyes followed the darkened storefronts, the tyre yards.

‘He had a doctor’s appointment today. Nothing serious, but Ailie, my wife, wasn’t well, so I took him. I don’t usually have a car seat in here.’

I nodded, not sure what else to say.

So long as it’s just that. Coffee Monday for sure.

I bit my lip. It wasn’t just that.

I had to tell her. I didn’t know why I hadn’t told her yet.

We turned again, curved around the end of the bay into the bottom of Annandale, under the bridge. I looked out the window. Terrace houses.

Or row houses. In New York they had stoops; they were different but they were the same. I’d seen them in movies.

The car turned. Gerry went to say something else and then everything went white.

23 THURSDAY, AUGUST

23

THURSDAY, AUGUST

‘Hey.’