‘Have you?’ He is quiet for a moment. She can hear the rasp in his chest. ‘You think I’m making things up?’

‘I think it suits you to think Steve was a monster.’

He leans forward across the table. ‘And what do you think?’

The wind picks up, blowing rain against the house.

‘I think he left Mandy behind in Sydney, with you.’

He rises, knocking the table, sending his mug rolling onto the deck. ‘Why don’t you go back to London, Isla? Why are you hanging around here? Why don’t you go and pack your bag?’

‘Am I wrong?’ She stands next to an upturned plant pot, earth scattered at her feet.

‘These bastards can all go to hell. I’m done with the lot of them.’ He turns and points wildly at the neighbouring houses, the long backyards, the hedges and flowerbeds. ‘Your mother can go to hell and your brother can go with her. I don’t need any of them.’

‘Am I wrong, Dad?’

‘I didn’t think you’d turn on me, Isla. You of all people!’

He reaches for the bunting that droops beside the kitchen window. It comes away as he pulls on it, trailing across the deck, shabby and soiled. He kicks it, and it wraps itself around his foot.

‘Watch out.’ She steps forward to break his fall and he crashes into her arms, almost knocking her sideways. She feels his weakness, his frailty as she holds him upright, hears the whistle in his chest.

He stands, holding her arms for balance. ‘Don’t ask me that again,’ he says.

35

Sydney, 1967

Mandy regretted her visit as soon as she walked into Joe’s kitchen. She shut his back door behind her and kept a grip on the handle.

‘I won’t stop long,’ she said. ‘Steve’s nodded off. I wanted to check you were right.’

He was leaning uncomfortably over the sink, working at the tea stains on the inside of a mug with his good hand. Half a dozen dishes stood brightly upright in the drying rack and several whisky tumblers, washed and rinsed, were drip-drying upside down in orderly rows. This is a man, she thought, whose wife is on her way home.

‘Looks like you’re busy,’ she said to his frowning profile.

‘Thought it was about time I got the place cleaned up. It’s not as hard as it looks, once you get started.’

She noticed the faded purple bruising at his neck. ‘Look. My husband nearly killed you. I’m sorry that happened.’

‘I’m fine, Mandy.’ He looked at her distractedly. ‘It seems to have knocked some sense into me.’ Beneath the soapy water, the gold band on his ring finger caught the light.

‘I’m pleased to hear that.’ She looked around her at the clean floor, the freshly wiped surfaces. ‘You turned over a new leaf, is that it?’

‘I’m expecting Louisa back soon. And Isla. Don’t want them getting home to a filthy house.’

‘That’s great news.’ She kept her voice bright. ‘When do they arrive?’