Lynch mobs. That was the expression he used. Images flickered through my mind, grainy black-and-white clips of impossible films shot in another era.

Lynch mobs.

8

8

DIANA | Goddess of Crossroads to the Underworld, and the Hunt

Daughter of Latona after she was seduced by Jupiter. Both deer and certain groves of trees were sacred to Diana but she was often depicted with a bow and arrow, made of wood, in the act of chasing deer to their death.

Two days had passed since the fire. A nurse had attempted to clean Caleb’s hair beneath his bandage. He still needed to shave. He opened his mouth and closed it again, obviously thirsty. My son. With blue eyes and burned hands and weeping wounds from his recent snakebite hardware.

A blue plastic cup and jug waited on his night stand. I offered him a drink. ‘Can I get you anything else?’

His eyes locked onto mine. ‘You’re still here.’

‘I slept here. Hopefully we can get you home today…’ My voice faded. I didn’t want to say anything that might be untrue – not to Caleb. And I didn’t know what the truth was. All I had were questions. Would I be allowed to take Caleb home? What did the police think they knew? I gazed at his beloved, shell-shocked face. Full of questions for him too. What happened? How could he explain himself?

Caleb glanced at a television set suspended over his bed. The news was on. Hurriedly, I switched it off. Apart from one brief moment, all he saw was his own reflected face.

‘Tell me about Penelope,’ he said. ‘Is she okay?’

I understood how he felt about Penelope. It was how I once felt about Marco. ‘She had a message for you. She said she was all right.’

‘She won’t be. Family means everything to her, too.’

A few hours later, Caleb was discharged. While he perched on the edge of his bed, clutching his sketchbook and staring blankly at smoke visible through the window, I left his room to ring Jack. ‘I want to take him home. Can you drive us there?’

After a short pause, Jack asked, ‘Are you sure that’s a good idea right now?’

‘I won’t be chased from my own home.’

‘He can’t stay with his father?’

‘I want him near me. There’s something else. You sent Caleb a text…’

‘The other day?’

‘You said, We’ll talk in person. What was that about?’

Jack paused. ‘Nothing in particular. I was checking up on him. You asked me to, Phoebe.’

Jack arrived and, Caleb in the back seat, we travelled silently. Caleb sat bolt upright, one hand over his eyes as if to block out the devastating scenes we passed. He clenched his fists when we turned into Anzac Avenue. I touched his fingers.