‘Isla?’ He walks towards her. ‘Isla?’

She wonders if he would hurt her, if he thought he’d lost her loyalty. If she would fight back. She imagines it: scalding coffee against his skin. Pushing him to the ground, her foot on his chest; her hand at his throat. She tenses with the possibility of it.

He pushes open the door. He looks gaunt. Almost sober. ‘You cleaned the place up,’ he says. ‘I didn’t expect you to do that.’

She stops what she’s doing, holds the knife still. ‘Did you smash the house up? Was that you?’

He looks down at his feet. ‘I’m sorry you had to deal with it.’

‘I thought it was me.’

He is surprised, confused. He pulls out a chair and sits down. ‘I had a bad few days,’ he says, looking around him at the clean surfaces. ‘It won’t happen again.’

She turns her back on him and slices through an onion. She sees herself in everything he does and it terrifies her.

‘I got a lawyer,’ he says. His chair scrapes against the lino and he stretches his legs out. ‘They can’t prove anything.’

45

Victoria, 1967

They’d have to move on today. As soon as the sun was up, he’d get their gear in the truck and get on the road. He’d wanted to wait until William’s fever passed, so he was well enough for the long drive. But it hadn’t passed. Steve knelt by the bed and moved his jacket up to cover the boy’s shoulders. He might be a bit brighter when he woke. And they couldn’t risk another day in this place. That cop could be back any time. He’d have spoken to Ray by now and Ray might have blown it, he wouldn’t have known what to say. He might have told him Steve had left the force. His stomach turned at the thought of it.

He pulled a box out from under the bed. He was impatient, now he’d made his mind up. They could sleep in the truck until the money came through. They’d done it on the way down here, pulled over and grabbed a few hours, it wasn’t too bad. William was sleeping a lot, these past few days. He’d barely woken, barely taken any milk. Maybe he’d take him to a doctor, somewhere they weren’t looking for him. Kids got fevers all the time, he knew this; it was normal. He told himself not to worry. Don’t get yourself worked up, Mandy would say.

It took less than ten minutes to fill the box. He grabbed clothes and nappies and the coffee mug he’d brought from home. He took the dishcloth and towel down from the hooks he’d hammered into the low beam at the back of the cabin, wrapped the cloth around his mug so it didn’t break. He put William’s bottles and his formula milk on top, where he could reach them easily. The last pack of biscuits and the instant coffee next to it. He looked at William, still and silent on the bed. He hoped to Christ he was going to be all right.