Now, breathing into the misty morning, he sat on the step waiting for Max to cry himself out. But the pup was getting sick of it, wriggling and whimpering in the boy’s arms. ‘Why don’t you put her down for a bit,’ Leon proposed, ‘so she can have a run while I make some hot chocolate?’

Max shot him a look loaded with fear and desperation. ‘Can I come inside with you? If Dad comes home and sees Bonnie, he might take her too.’

Clearly, the boy was traumatised; he was clutching that pup like a life raft. Leon wasn’t sure he wanted a dog in the house, but the kid looked so mournful, what could he do? ‘Take her around the back and wait for me on the doorstep,’ he said. ‘Your dad won’t see you there. I won’t be long.’

In the kitchen, he boiled milk in the microwave and broke into it some chocolate he’d been saving for a cold day up in the park. Oh well, this was a time of need. That was what chocolate was for.

Max was waiting on the back steps as Leon had instructed, thin shoulders rounded with dejection. Bonnie was on his lap, licking his face with her busy pink tongue; the kid was so down he didn’t seem to notice. The pup was quite a cute little thing, Leon supposed, with her patchy red and grey coat, uneven ears and gangly legs. He sat beside the boy and handed him a mug. ‘Here. Tuck into this.’

Max put the pup on the ground and took the drink listlessly.

‘How old is she?’ Leon asked, trying to draw him out.

‘Seven weeks.’ The boy turned moist eyes to Leon and said, in a shaky voice, ‘Maybe you could keep her. You need a friend.’

The truth of it hit Leon like a tackle on the footy field. He’d been living in this town for weeks now, and who could he really call a mate other than this ten-year-old boy and Grandpa? He hadn’t exactly been a screaming success, had he? But he had made progress, he told himself. He was getting to know people. No invitations to dinner, but the blokes were getting used to him on the footy field. And Wendy waved to him when he went out to chop wood. Dale, the scientist, had been friendly too. And Geraldine at the visitor centre was kind—Leon had chatted to her several times. He was sort of friends with Miki too, through the Tasmanian devils and the eagles’ nest. And, courtesy of local garage sales, he’d almost converted this dingy old place into a home. He’d bought a TV, second-hand couch, two old armchairs, a few kitchen chairs. Didn’t furniture and friends make him almost a local? It was a pretty good start.

Max was still eyeing him hopefully. ‘What do you think?’