‘You want to get rid of me. I can see that. I remember a time when you didn’t want that. I remember when you wanted me to stay.’

He stepped around the coffee table towards her. Through the open window she heard Andrea’s bicycle bell.

‘Do you remember that, Mandy?’

‘’Course I do.’

‘I fell for you. D’you know that?’ He smiled; a strange, loose smile. ‘I did. That makes me an idiot, doesn’t it?’

‘No. Not at all. I—’

‘You don’t feel the same. Of course you don’t. What was it you said?’

She shook her head.

‘A port in a storm.’ The smile fell from his face. ‘A port in a storm. Nothing serious. That’s what you said.’

She stared back at him. She didn’t dare move. He had a detached look to him, like his mind had snapped.

‘Look, Joe. I think maybe you’re cut up over Isla and you had a bit to drink. We all do it.’ She kept talking, afraid of the silence behind her voice. ‘Maybe you should go and sleep it off. Come back when you’ve sobered up and I’ll make you a coffee. We can talk.’

‘That’s a good idea.’ He looked around the room, slowly, considering. ‘Let’s do that. Let’s drink coffee and talk. A port in a fucking storm.’

Still he stayed where he was. She tried to smile and his eyes hardened. Fear crept up her back.

‘Where is he, then?’ he said.

‘He went for milk. I think you should head home.’

‘Maybe I’ll wait for him.’

‘Look, Joe—’

‘I think I’ll wait here with you.’ He met her at the door, standing close, not quite touching. He tipped her chin back with his finger. ‘Nothing serious. Right?’

‘Steve’s going to blow his stack,’ she said.

‘I’m ready for him.’

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’

‘I’ll be the judge of that.’

‘Joe, please—’

‘I can handle him.’ He shouted it and she shrank back against the door. ‘Did you hear me, Mandy? I can handle him. I’ll be ready this time and he’ll—’

He turned his head from her, hearing something, a noise out on the verandah. A knock at the door.

‘Let me get that.’ She pulled away and went to the door, lightheaded with relief. She hoped to God it was Doug, needing a lend of her rake.

‘D’you want to come to a party at our place?’ Andrea Walker stood on the verandah, smiling, half her teeth missing. ‘It’s for my birthday, next week.’

‘A party?’

‘I’m going to be ten,’ Andrea said. ‘The party’s on Saturday.’

Mandy felt Joe behind her, moving into the hall. The door to the lounge room clicked shut. ‘You’ll be ten? How fantastic. I’d love to come to the party.’

Andrea scratched at her thigh, hitching her dress up. ‘What about Steve?’

‘Steve?’ She widened her eyes at the girl. ‘What about him?’

‘Can he come to the party?’

‘Sure. I’ll let him know.’

‘Mum said he shot through,’ Andrea said. She poked her tongue through the gap where her left canine had been. ‘He packed up all his gear and drove off.’