40

Sydney, 1967

‘No need to get dressed up on my account.’

Joe Green stood on Mandy’s verandah, looking like an unmade bed. His shirt was buttoned up wrong and his hair had grown. Curls were forming near his ears.

‘Is he out?’ He glanced down at the patch of oil in the street where Steve’s truck had been.

She nodded.

‘Can I come in?’

No, she thought. He was unshaven and his eyes were off. Something not quite right about him.

‘I spoke to Isla on the phone.’ He looked imploringly at her. ‘I rang the house yesterday and she answered.’

She opened the door and stepped back to let him in. ‘Come through,’ she said, leading him into the lounge room. Too much history in the kitchen. ‘I just made coffee if you want one?’

‘Anything stronger?’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘It’s ten-thirty.’

‘I’m not keeping regular hours, Mandy. I’m not sleeping too well.’

She went to the kitchen and found a beer at the back of the fridge, one of the stubbies Steve used to drink. She opened the bottle and stood there a minute with the fridge door open, leaning into the cool air. She had a nervous feeling, like she’d made a mistake and it was going to bite her. Joe cleared his throat in the lounge room and she tensed, nearly dropping the beer.

He was sitting on the arm of the couch when she went back in, his ankle resting on his knee. He took the beer wordlessly, closed his eyes and drank most of it down.

‘You look like a truck hit you.’

He ran his hand through the thick hair at the back of his head. ‘It’s knocked me, Mandy. Talking to Isla knocked me back.’

‘How is she? What did she say?’

‘She asked me to come and get her.’ He looked at her, incredulous. ‘That’s what she said. She wants me to bring her back home. She doesn’t want to be in England.’

‘What did you say to that?’

‘I said I don’t think I can.’

‘Was she all right? Did she understand?’

‘Don’t think so. She hung up the phone on me.’

‘Did she?’ Mandy almost smiled for the first time in days. ‘Maybe the line cut out,’ she said, seeing Joe’s face.

‘She must think I’ve let her down.’ He drained the rest of his beer, holding the bottle to his mouth a while after the last drop was gone.

‘She’s too young to understand,’ Mandy said.

He played restlessly with the beer bottle, picking at the label. ‘Louisa changed her mind about coming back here. You might have guessed.’

‘Did she say why?’

‘Second thoughts. Doubts. Maybe she wants to play with my head.’

Mandy thought of the phone call she’d overheard. It won’t happen again. ‘She’ll come round,’ she said. ‘You might need to give her a bit of time.’

‘She’s got me by the balls, Mandy. I’ll have to sell up and go to England if I want to see my kids.’