Minnie came trotting down the hall, tail erect and jerking. She came up confidently and was about to bunt her head against his leg when she paused and sniffed his trousers, probably smelling the pup. Then she rubbed her head against his calf. Maybe she didn’t mind dogs. Some cats were okay with them, Leon had heard. He dragged out a chair and sat down. ‘How are things?’ he asked his mum.

She smiled tiredly. ‘We’re managing. Your father has good days and bad. The illness never really lets up.’

Leon was sliding into a hole. He’d had a break from his folks and their daily struggles with illness, yet the moment he stepped into this place he felt drained. He’d given so much to support his mum these past years; now he had nothing left. ‘Any more trips to the hospital?’ he asked, trying to be conversational.

She laughed feebly. ‘Not this week. We had some check-up tests a few weeks ago to see how his liver is going—that time when I rang you because he was vomiting—but it’s much the same.’

‘How about Stan? He still coming around?’

‘A bit.’

‘What’s been happening? Dad getting into the grog?’

She bypassed the question, took a knife from the drawer and started slicing the cake. It was chocolate, he noted, with a slick coat of icing.

‘Mum?’ Leon probed. ‘Has he been hitting you?’

Her eyes darted to his face and away again. ‘No, he’s too weak.’ Her mouth was small and tight.

‘But he’s tried?’

She lifted a slice of cake on the knife, put it on a plate and pushed it across to Leon. ‘Here. Try this.’

‘Mum, has he hurt you? I need to know.’

She met his eyes levelly. ‘I know you worry, Leon, but it’s okay. I don’t need you to come and live with me again. It’s not necessary. I’m at work most of the week, and when he gets out of hand, I go for a walk. He can’t chase me anymore—he’s too sick.’

‘You need to lock your bedroom at night,’ Leon said. ‘Have you still got that padlock I organised for you?’

She nodded and watched in silence while he tackled the cake. When the kettle boiled, she poured tea.

‘Why don’t you go and see your father?’ she suggested. ‘I’ll be down in a minute.’

Leon didn’t want to see his dad after what his mum had just told him.

‘Please, Leon,’ she said. ‘Do it for me. I want you two to get along.’

What choice did he have when she put it like that? Resigned, he headed down the hallway, scooping up the cat on the way.