Andrea Walker flew past on her bicycle, ringing her bell, and Ray lifted his hat to wave at her.

‘I didn’t know you felt that way,’ he said.

‘It took me a while to see it,’ she said. ‘I wish I’d seen it sooner.’

He hung his head. A fly settled in a thinning patch of his hair and he brushed it away. ‘The job needs doing, Mandy. Nothing I can do about it.’

‘He considered you a good man,’ she said. ‘Didn’t want to let you down.’

‘I know that. I wish to God I’d called him back.’

She could take a dislike to this man, she decided, standing there in the midday sun with that shifty, weasel look to him. Small, hard eyes. She could see him squirming with guilt and she was glad about it.

‘You don’t know where he might have headed?’ he said.

She hesitated. ‘Why d’you ask?’

‘Just there was a bit of business needed clearing up. I could do with speaking to him about it. If you have an address?’

She felt sweat running down her spine. ‘What was it regarding? I could ask him if he gets in touch.’

‘He was meant to drop a child off at the Home down in Nowra. They tell me he didn’t show up. It’s causing me a headache, that’s all. Need to keep the paperwork straight.’

Andrea Walker flew back past in the other direction, skimming Ray’s wing mirror. She was getting too tall for that bike, Mandy thought. Her bare legs were bent almost double.

‘He was always very reliable, Ray. Never shirked on a duty. You know that.’

‘I do.’ He lowered his voice. ‘He’s not in any trouble? Nothing I should know?’

Mandy shook her head. ‘I reckon he’ll be in touch if he needs you,’ she said. ‘Make sure you take his call if he does.’

‘Righto.’ He double-tapped the word out on the gate. ‘Tell him to call me, if you hear from him.’

‘He took the truck,’ she said. ‘Don’t suppose you’ll get that back.’

‘No.’ He got back in his car, bent right over to get his legs in. ‘That truck had seen better days.’

She waved him off and he waved back through the window, swerving to miss Andrea. She was getting to be a menace on that bike. Mandy faced the house and caught a glimpse of Joe Green as his curtain dropped back against his window. She crouched down and turned the soil over with the trowel; kept her eyes down till she felt him move away.

39

Leeds, 1967

The phone was ringing. Isla picked up the receiver and held it to her ear. She heard a rustling noise, like the radio when Grandma was turning the buttons. She sat down on the bottom step and leaned against the bannister with the receiver on her shoulder, head tilted sideways, the way her mum did it. She pushed her fingers through the twists in the flex. Behind the noise there was a tiny voice, she thought. Sometimes it came clear and then it went away.