The sky had turned the colour of faded jeans, his old ones, with the life and promise washed out of them. Time didn’t move properly in a heatwave. In Caleb’s lifetime, apart from the catastrophe he caused, nothing had changed. Stock in the store windows, buses passing at timetabled intervals, ladies chatting al fresco around little tables outside the coffee shop, all these things were always the same. Until today. Today, store owners had lowered their blinds, heat had chased the al fresco ladies inside and slowed the buses. Each passing vehicle was pursued by a dust-cloud like a phantom. As cars parked, the dust slowly fell, bleaching colour from the road. No one was followed by shades of what they had done. No one except Caleb.

Mum dropped him off on Main Road just before the corner leading to the CFA. Caleb watched her driving away. CFA volunteers were already arriving. Joanne Morris’s old utility van with the ripped tray cover pulled into a roadside car park after Mum left, then Bernie Lippard’s ancient souped-up Falcon, with the twin exhaust pipes that would spread sparks like a Catherine wheel.

Caleb joined them inside for a briefing. ‘With year after year of rising temperatures, we’ll have to get used to days like this.’ He checked his uniform. Stared at his stomach, his legs. They’d look even skinnier when he replaced his black jeans with the yellow high-vis. The uniform obliterated him. Was that all right? Did that mean he was suffering enough?

His feelings used to explode sometimes. But now, anger was a memory. He would keep it under control today in court. No matter how angry he was. He once believed justice was related to truth. Justice was another statue, blindfolded, outside Caledonia Magistrates Court. If only Justice would rip that blindfold off, look around, see the truth, the wailing babies wheeled outside court like ballast for their mother’s placards, watch Mum battle with insomnia, watch Caleb wonder why being ripped apart over this accusation still didn’t make up for what he did.

Mum didn’t stop to read placards outside the courthouse, and didn’t listen to the taunts or yelled insults. Harmony and Leanne tried to get her attention. Harmony wore a school uniform, waistband rolled to raise the hem. Caleb couldn’t see any tattoos. Douglas tried stepping between them and Mum, but Harmony was insistent. ‘I know her. She was my best teacher. Ms Wharton, I need to talk to you.’

Mum sighed. Her eyes had dark black shadows underneath. ‘Yes, Harmony?’

‘The day – the day you saved us. Thank you.’

Mum stood very still, touched her eye, then touched Harmony’s hand. ‘Thank you too,’ she said, in a low voice.