The waves were coming in tall and strong. She tried to head back to shore but a wave rose up and she was caught in the swell, lifted off her feet and carried powerfully to the beach, where she landed on her forearms. Pulling herself to her knees, she imagined Isla drowned, her neck broken, her lungs full of water.

She hooked the straps of her costume back over her shoulders, coughing. Further down the beach, Isla waved, and ran towards her through the shallows.

‘Mandy!’ Isla was wearing red swimmers. Red. ‘I saw you in the water! You got your hair wet!’

This was why Mandy didn’t have children. It was scary, and exhausting. She crawled onto the beach where their towels were laid out and sat herself down. Christ Almighty.

‘You went swimming!’ Isla threw herself onto her knees in the sand. ‘Did you like it?’

‘Not much.’ Mandy laughed. She pushed Isla’s flattened, gritty hair out of her face. ‘I didn’t see that wave coming.’

‘You said you don’t like the water.’

‘I don’t!’ Mandy pulled her costume away from her skin and saw she had sand all over the place, thickly gathered in the folds of her belly. ‘Let’s go and get showered. Your mum will be back soon. We should head home.’

Isla shook her head. ‘She won’t be back yet. She went shopping. I reckon she’ll be ages.’

‘It’s getting choppy out there. That’s enough for today.’ Mandy stood and reached for her towel, flicking the worst of the sand out of it. ‘Tell you what. Next time we’ll catch a shark and take it home for lunch. How’s that sound?’

Isla nodded, and picked up her own towel. ‘Tomorrow, can we?’

‘Don’t see why not.’ She nodded up at the showers at the top of the beach. ‘You have first shower. I’ll be right behind you.’

Mandy’s legs were heavy as she followed Isla up the coastal path towards the house. She stood a moment under the shade of the tea trees, listening to the waves, getting her breath back. Steve would be home soon. He’d been away over a week, so he must have finished the job. She had a bad feeling about this one, she didn’t know why. It was getting harder for him as time went on. And it was getting harder to deal with him afterwards.

Her skin turned cold, thinking of it. She found her sundress, sandy and damp at the bottom of her bag, and pulled it over her head, brushed the dried sand from her skin and climbed the last few yards to the bottom of her backyard. The best she could hope for was that he wouldn’t get back before she’d had a chance to open the gin.

‘Mummy’s back already!’ Isla ran across the yard towards her. ‘She’s back! She didn’t even get any shopping!’ Isla stopped and attempted a handstand, leaving one foot on the grass, one bent leg pointing skywards. She stood up and lifted her hands above her head, triumphant. ‘That’s why she’s cranky, and much too hot.’