‘Sorry, mate,’ he said. ‘You’re going to have to let me in.’

The copper stood on the sand and caught his breath. His face was confused. Appalled. A white fella, holed up on a beach with a black kid.

‘What’s this about?’ Steve let the door swing open and did his best to fill the doorway. ‘This is private property.’

‘We had a call,’ the cop said, panting. He lifted his shoulder and wiped the sweat from his brow onto his sleeve. ‘From Sydney. You got a little lad with you?’ The cop looked past him into the cabin.

Steve heard William behind him, babbling to himself. The ocean crashed loud on the beach. The copper watched the boy, nodded once and returned his gaze to meet Steve’s. He dug his thumbs into the small of his back. He was a big bloke, not in the best shape. He looked more tired than a walk across the beach should make you.

‘He’s a ward of the Welfare Board in New South Wales,’ the cop said. ‘Someone kicked up a fuss. Called a few times. We’re tightening up the records.’

Steve considered charging past him, pushing him to the ground, running with the boy till he found a place to hide. But his legs were heavy; he could barely stand. ‘This is temporary,’ he said. ‘This cabin. Just temporary.’

The cop looked at him blankly. A line of sweat ran down his face and dripped from his jaw.

‘I’m waiting for my house to sell. We’ll move on from here soon as the money comes through. Just a few more weeks.’

The cop shook his head and wheezed. ‘My boss wants this kid out of his hair.’ He thumped his chest with his fist and cleared his throat. ‘Like I said, he’s a ward of the Board in—’

‘He’s well cared for.’ Steve’s guts turned over. The cop was barely listening. He’d have seen people pull their hair out, soil themselves, drop to the ground and beg. ‘He’s like a son to me,’ Steve told him. A wave broke on the beach, drowning out his words. ‘I love him like my own son.’

Behind him, William started up a whine. The copper took in the size of the child; his weight and build. His nostrils flared with the stink of his nappy.

‘Christ.’ He leaned back from the door. Covered his nose. He turned his back, but Steve heard him. ‘Filthy bloody animal.’

Steve stepped down onto the sand. He felt the insult personally. The shock of it returned the strength to his limbs, quietened his fear; reminded him that he was on the right side now. A cool breeze came in off the ocean and he breathed it into his lungs. He had to be smarter here, for William’s sake. He was getting this all wrong.

‘Look,’ he said. ‘I’m in this game myself. My dad was a cop before me and his dad before that.’

‘You’re a cop?’

Steve nodded. ‘Nearly ten years, based in Sydney.’