‘Stop.’ She sits forward in her seat. ‘That’s him. That’s Steve.’

Scott brakes. Steve crosses the street, holding up the leaflet that Isla wrote her name on. He leans forward to tap on the passenger window and they hear his voice through the glass. ‘You wanted to see me?’

Isla lowers the window. He has ruddy skin and watering eyes and he looks genuinely moved at the sight of her.

‘Isla Green,’ he says. ‘I came out as soon as I clocked your name.’

Isla climbs from the car and meets him on the footpath. She towers over him. He stands with his feet apart, shoulders back, and runs his hand over the bald pate of his head.

‘Thanks for coming outside,’ she says. ‘I know you’re busy.’

He’s not as familiar now she’s in front of him. His physical presence – gentler than she remembered – is in the way. She has a pang of doubt.

‘Christ almighty,’ he says. ‘Isla Green. I remember you as a tiny thing. Always running around the yard looking for bugs and spiders.’

‘The police have been to see my dad.’ She blurts it, and his expression changes.

‘I imagine they have.’

‘They seem to think he was the last person to see Mandy before she went missing.’

He curls the leaflet with her name on it and taps it against the palm of his hand. ‘That sounds about right.’

‘My dad says Mandy left with you. He says she went with you to Victoria.’

‘He’s a liar. Sorry to have to tell you that.’

He moves the palm of his hand over his face, pulling at the skin beneath his eyes. He’s almost crying, Isla thinks. He’s only just containing a bank of emotion. This is what scared her as a kid: it comes to her as she stands before him. His surface layer is paper thin and behind it he is utterly broken.

‘Mandy was soft on you,’ he says. ‘Do you know that? Do you remember?’

‘Not really.’

‘She would have made a good mother. We could have raised a family.’

Behind him, a woman leaves the building and turns onto the footpath. The baby on her hip wakes, lifts its head and cries out, a long wail of protest. Steve spins around in alarm. The woman takes a minute to settle the child, patting its back.

‘My dad’s going to take the blame,’ Isla says. ‘If they can’t find Mandy.’

Steve turns back to face her. ‘Your father took her from me,’ he says.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I left her behind in Sydney with Joe Green.’

‘He denies that.’

‘There were witnesses, love. It was broad daylight when I left. People saw what happened.’ Tears stand in his eyes. ‘It’s the biggest mistake of my life.’

She hears Scott climbing from the car, slamming the door. He stands beside her, his arm on her shoulder.

‘I never remarried,’ Steve says. ‘I miss her every day.’

‘Do you think she’s alive?’