‘Hello, Ms Wharton,’ a nurse said as I pushed through the folding doors and headed past her into Caleb’s room. They recognised me now, without knowing my first name. I was the mother of Caleb Wharton. Caleb, a name Stephen and I chose in this hospital, in a ward not fifty metres away. After the shock of delivery, I’d been overwhelmed by Caleb’s existence, so small, so perfect, so entirely separate from myself. His tiny fist closing around my finger, he had gazed at me in mute wonderment. Now his eyes were closed again, his hands folded together atop a crisp hospital sheet. He was Caleb Wharton, patient. Not an arsonist. He couldn’t be that.

Caleb had visited Sean in hospital, after the car accident. He’d scribbled drawings on the back of Sean’s meal order form. One that I remembered showed Sean, hanging from an upside-down bicycle at a BMX track. Sean the Adventurer, said the title. ‘This is you, when you get out of here,’ Caleb had promised.

Rosie had barged past me where I waited at the doorway, and ripped up the sketch. ‘Get out of here,’ she’d screeched, at Caleb and at me. While Caleb stood, she pointed at Sean’s legs. ‘You did this!’

Now, Caleb’s television set quietly whispered the continuing news. While I watched, the running footage turned from a discussion panel (‘We keep being told this is not the right time to talk about government responses to climate change, but when is it the right time?’) to another press conference. ‘Channel 7 has learned that progress has been made in confirming the identity of the likely offender,’ said the newsreader.

They cut to Arthur Simmons wearing an orange high-vis jacket while grey smoke billowed behind him. He clutched a microphone and shifted to his serious face. ‘Expert investigators from New Zealand and the USA confirm a fire was deliberately lit at an abandoned mining site near Brunton. The blaze killed indiscriminately, ripping through towns including Linlithgow… Caledonia… Cronins Gully…’

Detective Superintendent Lawrence Thornton of Taskforce Phosphorus was on screen next. Stocky and balding, he staggered to the podium like he had too much in his trousers. ‘Somewhere along Damper Creek, we’re getting closer to identifying ground zero where the arsonist aimed to start a massive bushfire. We want to hear from everybody who was in Brunton that day. Even if you were only there for a few minutes you can help us work out what actually occurred.’

Penelope would have to help them, I thought, and help Caleb too. Arthur Simmons returned. ‘DS Thornton says Taskforce Phosphorus will pursue arsonists to the full extent of the law. Every family affected by bushfire will be allocated a case manager to assist with insurance, rebuilding and managing estates. Meanwhile, locals have been warned to avoid forming lynch mobs and going after suspected arsonists on their own.’