Carol shakes her head, signalling her to stop.

‘Is that what you think?’ She turns to Doug. ‘Is that what you’ve been telling people?’

‘Give it a rest, Isla,’ he booms. ‘I don’t have to take this.’

Isla laughs, shocked at herself but still high, not yet sorry. Doug pushes past her, meeting Scott at the back door with a stack of dirty plates. Doug makes his way to the back of the yard, Isla notices. She thinks she sees him talking to Andrea’s husband, Ben. Gesturing and pointing.

‘I think I’ll get going,’ Carol says. She puts her glass down on the kitchen table. ‘It’s been a lovely party.’

‘Sorry, Carol.’

‘It must be difficult.’ Carol gives Isla’s arm a squeeze. ‘Maybe she doesn’t want to be found, this Mandy. Maybe she’s happy where she is.’

‘Maybe,’ Isla says, as Carol makes her exit.

The kitchen is cluttered and airless, reeking of warm wine and cigarette ends. Isla thinks of Dom, shaking his head at her, reproachful, unforgiving. She’d thought it was drink that made her this way. She wants to crawl into a hole.

‘What was that about?’ Scott puts the plates down on the counter.

‘How much did you catch?’

‘Most of it.’ He turns to the door, checking they are alone. ‘Who the hell is Mandy?’

‘A neighbour from years back. Before Dave and Carol moved in.’

‘And what was that about Dad?’

‘I lost my rag. I shouldn’t have said that to Carol.’

He opens the door into the hallway, pulling her along by the hand. In the lounge room he holds her by the shoulders, scrutinising her face. ‘What’s he done?’ he says.

She breaks free of his grip and sits down on the couch. ‘The police have been asking around, that’s all. They seem to think Dad was the last person to see Mandy before she went missing.’

He shakes his head at her. ‘When did she go missing?’

‘Thirty years ago, they think.’

‘Thirty years?’

She nods. ‘Must have been the year you were born.’

‘Was Dad questioned at the time?’

‘Nobody reported her missing at the time.’

He pinches his temples. ‘Why not?’

‘I guess nobody missed her till now. Her brother started trying to trace her when their dad died. He’s the one who contacted the police.’

Scott sits down in the armchair across from her. The sun is going down behind the houses across the street, giving the room a pink glow. He leans forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands in his hair.

‘What does Dad say about it?’

‘Not much. It’s kind of a touchy subject.’

‘Do they think she’s dead, this Mandy?’

‘Seems that way.’ She stares out at the street. ‘This neighbourhood certainly thinks so.’

‘Christ, Isla. You should have told me.’

‘I know. I meant to.’

‘Did it slip your mind?’

She stares back at him. ‘I thought you’d assume the worst of him, like you always do. I thought you wouldn’t come to the party.’