‘Yeah,’ I said absently, feeling hot and uncomfortable. Matt was a rugby-playing country boy who worked for an accounting firm. Lina had been crazy about him since the moment they met but I’d never understood why.

‘You know, when you two were younger, I used to wonder which of you would get married first.’ Mum sounded vaguely annoyed.

I rolled my eyes, didn’t even bother hiding it. ‘Well, now you know.’ As though there had ever been any doubt.

‘Caitlin.’

‘Sorry.’ I sliced into a poached egg with my fork and watched it bleed out all over the plate. ‘I’m sorry. I worked late last night and I’m really tired.’

Mum sighed. I glanced up and saw her exchange a look with Dad.

‘Leave it, Sue,’ he said softly.

‘Have you given any more thought to getting a job?’ she asked, ignoring him.

I looked down at my plate. Everything was drowning in egg, covered in salmonella, and suddenly I had an overwhelming urge to throw up. At least we were done talking about Lina, I thought. Small comfort. ‘I have a job, Mum.’

‘A proper one. Doing … whatever people with honours degrees in sociology do.’

My eyes met hers, and I knew she was being sarcastic, so decided to play along.

‘What? Waitressing?’

‘Very funny.’ She leaned forward, elbows on the table, studying me. ‘You’re twenty-eight now. Not getting any younger.’

Not getting any older, either, I thought.

‘Maybe I’ll go back and get my Master’s,’ I said, wondering if I could smell gas. ‘Then I can become a shift supervisor.’

She frowned. ‘You had a job before. I don’t know what was wrong with it.’

I shrugged. Bile. That was what the egg looked like. ‘Nothing.’

There had been nothing wrong with it. Being a demographic coordinator for a social research company wasn’t going to change the world and didn’t really use my degree in any meaningful way, but it was corporate enough to keep Mum off my back—just—and edgy enough to impress my school friends at parties. I worked out of a former jam factory in Redfern with bright purple feature walls and jellybean-shaped desks and an office dachshund, and we had cake every Friday afternoon. I wore proper outfits and high heels and my boss talked to me about career paths and progression, and I wasn’t going to be there forever but I was going to be there for a while, a few years at least, and then I was going to go somewhere bigger, better.