‘Well, you put your name on a list at the American consulate, and they call you up when they have a place for you. It doesn’t cost anything. They pay for your passage and meals and all. So I’m going to do it, because otherwise Roy will have to pay my way over, and it costs a fair bit.’

I glanced over at Mum. Her lips were pursed, her hands in her lap. She looked up and our eyes met over the table, which was enough to make me cry.

‘Oh, come, come, Sarah,’ she said, and I went and hugged her, kneeling beside her chair. ‘I don’t want you to go, but I can’t hold you back either. He’s a good man. He’ll look after you.’

Dad and Fred looked away as Mum stroked the back of my head. She smelled of talcum powder and stew, and her body was soft but I could feel her bones. She had grown thinner these past weeks.

Dad coughed and took another sip of his beer. ‘He’s not a bad bloke, is he?’ He looked at Fred as though for confirmation.

Fred got up and limped towards the door. ‘See you at the pub, Dad,’ he called, letting the flyscreen shudder behind him.

‘It’s hard for him to be the one who’s left behind,’ Mum said.

She blew her nose in her handkerchief, and I stood and went back to my chair. The three of us finished our meal in silence. So much now had gone unspoken that nothing could safely be said.

•

Peace was declared on 15 August 1945. All of Sydney celebrated, but at our house it was just a reminder that Jack was still missing. I had moved back into Mrs Mulligan’s, and met up with Dot and some other friends and went into the city. People in the street were blowing whistles, banging drums, linking arms and dancing. The pubs overflowed into the streets and men in uniform were kissed by girls for just walking past. I had a few drinks with the others, rolling over that word, ‘peace’, in my head, watching Dot dance with a sailor, his hat tipped sideways on her head. I tried not to worry about Roy. I hadn’t heard from him in a few months.