She tips the last of the coffee into her mug, puts the radio back on and scrapes her breakfast into the bin.

15

Sydney, 1967

Mandy smiled at the sound of Joe’s key in the door. She’d spent the best part of the day cleaning his house and it looked good, if she did say so herself. It looked like the sort of house she liked to walk into. Clean, tidy, decluttered. She unplugged the vacuum and wound the flex up, hooking it on her thumb and down around her elbow. It was a job well done, and she’d enjoyed it. Made a change from her own house, which was so clean she’d erase it one of these days.

She wheeled the vacuum back to the kitchen, took a few deep breaths and tried to look nonchalant. Men often didn’t notice a clean house, or understand the work that went into it. Not that Joe was accustomed to a clean house, mind. Louisa never did keep on top of the housework. She’d seemed overwhelmed by it, always pushing clutter into cupboards and leaving dishes in the sink. But then, none of us is perfect, Mandy thought. Lou might not be house-proud but she always looked fantastic.

She quickly pushed her hair back under her scarf as Joe came through the door.

‘What the?’ He dropped his keys on the coffee table. ‘What the hell?’

She saw him before he saw her. In the instant before he knew she was there, she knew she’d made a mistake. He looked shocked, and not in a good way. He looked like he’d been punched in the stomach.

‘Joe, I—’ She moved forward, and he saw her.

‘Christ, Mandy!’

‘Did you forget I was coming?’ She walked through to the living room. The carpet was damp under her feet where she’d shampooed it. ‘We did agree I’d come today.’

He passed his hand over his face. ‘What have you done? Where is everything?’

‘I put a few things away in drawers and cupboards.’ She followed his gaze, taking in the shine of the windows and the pictures she’d straightened and wiped; the clean face of his sunburst wall clock. ‘Then I dusted and polished. What did you expect?’

He pulled a few drawers open and shut them again. ‘I’ve never seen the house like this. I don’t recognise the place.’

‘I thought you’d be pleased. I like a tidy house.’

He sat down on the couch and ran his hand over the crown of his head. ‘I can see that.’

‘If there’s something you can’t find, something you’d rather I hadn’t moved—’

‘Christ.’ He dropped his head into his hands and said nothing for a while. ‘I can’t find my wife, Mandy.’

‘Oh.’ She curled her toes into the damp carpet. ‘I thought—’

‘Or my daughter.’ He looked around him in fresh surprise. ‘They were here. Their mess, the things they left behind. The smell of them.’

‘You wanted me to leave the mess?’