He slopped whisky over his shirt when the phone rang. Six o’clock. It wasn’t Stan, this time. He put his glass down and looked at the phone, his mouth sour with fear and hope.

‘Hello?’

‘It’s me, Joe. It’s Louisa.’

The shock of her voice went through him like cold water. Jesus Christ, he might cry.

‘Can we talk? I’ve been calling for days but there was no answer.’

He gripped the receiver. ‘I want to talk to Isla.’

‘She’s asleep.’

‘Wake her up.’

‘She’s been unwell. I don’t want to wake her.’

‘Unwell?’

‘She’ll be fine. She’s been checked over by the doctor. It’s flu, that’s all. She’s over the worst of it.’

His words were trapped in his throat. ‘I want her back,’ he managed to say. ‘She should be here. This is her home.’

‘Can we talk, Joe? Please.’

The line hissed between them and Joe stood on the rug, arms outstretched, phone cable pulled taut. ‘You didn’t even tell me where you’d gone. Can you imagine how scared I was?’

She was quiet. The silence clogged his ears.

‘Did you hear me?’

‘She saw us, Joe.’

He dropped his arms to his sides. ‘What?’

‘Isla saw us. That night.’

‘What did she see?’ He had a feeling he knew. His stomach turned over. ‘Lou? What did she see? What night?’

‘The night I went to Mandy’s. We argued and it got physical.’ Her voice was small, hesitant. ‘I don’t know if you remember.’

‘No. I blacked out.’

‘That’s what I thought.’

‘How bad was it?’

‘Pretty bad.’ She was crying. ‘What kind of parents are we, Joe?’

‘You should have told me.’ He reached for his glass. ‘Is she all right? Did she say anything?’

‘She hasn’t mentioned it. She’s been distant with me. I think it scared her.’

‘Of course it scared her.’ He drained his glass and let the warmth fill his head.

‘We’re not right together, are we?’

He sat down on the rug and fought the tears, swallowed them back down. ‘Don’t say that, Lou.’

‘You said it yourself.’

‘I was angry with you.’ He rocked forward, holding the empty glass between his feet. ‘I’m sorry I said that. I’m sorry about what happened that night. I hate the idea that Isla saw it.’

She was quiet a long time. He thought of Isla on the beach, treading water in the ocean beside him.

‘Will you come back?’

There was a flare on the line and he wondered if she’d heard him.

‘I can’t come by boat,’ she said, when the line cleared. ‘The baby’s due in April. I don’t want to give birth on a ship, Joe.’

He sucked air through his teeth. ‘Jesus, Louisa. There’ll be no money left if you fly back.’

‘Don’t be angry with me.’

‘Did you have to take all the savings?’

‘I thought I’d need money to live on,’ she said. ‘While I was looking for work.’

He rolled the glass between his feet. ‘You had it all planned out, then. Didn’t you?’