‘Why?’

‘I don’t want to lose you.’

‘What are you saying?’

‘You’re all I have.’

She runs her fingers over the chips in the formica table, the flecked yellow pattern that covers its surface. He drinks again from the bottle, and she feels his fear.

‘Will you get a lawyer?’

He nods.

‘Don’t say anything, Dad.’ She feels sick. She wants to be numb. To keep pretending. ‘Don’t let them push you into saying anything. They want you to think they’ve got you.’

He pulls out a chair and sits down, facing away from her. He holds the bottle between his legs.

‘Dad, are you listening to me? Don’t say anything, will you?’

He lifts the bottle back to his mouth. His cigarette has burnt down in the ashtray and the filter drops forward, still glowing. He pushes the bottle towards her and she catches it as it slides across the table. She picks it up, feels its familiar heft.

‘I won’t say anything,’ he says.

38

Sydney, 1967

Mandy noticed the red dust caked over the fenders of his car before she noticed Ray at the wheel. She weighed up whether she could turn back into the house without him knowing she’d seen him. Whether she cared if he knew or not. She was too slow: he caught her eye and waved, rolled the window down.

‘Steve home?’ He parked at the front of the house, leaned towards her through the window.

‘No,’ she said. She took off her gardening gloves and walked up to the gate. ‘He’s gone.’

‘When d’you think he’ll be back? I could do with a word.’

‘Steve shot through.’ It was a shock, saying it aloud. She checked the tremble in her voice. ‘He took off a few days back. Just went.’

He opened his car door and stood on the footpath in front of the gate. Mandy had forgotten the size of him. He was the tallest man she’d met in her life. Bad posture, but. He’d wind up with aches and pains, she thought, later in life.

‘I’m sorry to hear that, Mandy.’

‘It’s been quite a shock. You can imagine. I’m surprised he hasn’t spoken to you about it all.’

He took his hat off and his eyes dropped to the footpath. ‘He left a few messages for me. I kept meaning to call him back.’

‘It’s a bit late now.’

‘I didn’t think. I’d have called right back if I’d known.’

‘He thought you were mad at him for leaving the job.’

He fanned himself with his hat. ‘He did leave me in a bind if I’m honest.’

‘He worked like a dog for you. Nine years, Ray.’

‘He was a good man.’ He nodded. ‘A good worker.’

‘The job got to him. He let it pull him under.’

‘It’s not easy, that’s for sure.’

‘It’s not right.’ She stepped closer to the gate. ‘That job you had him doing. Going out there and taking kids away. That’s not right, Ray. Steve was doing something he knew was wrong and it near finished him.’