Basil and I stood and looked down the hall with her. At the end of the corridor there was more opening and closing of doors, and then three people appeared. Two dark suits, and a man in jeans and a T-shirt being ushered along in the middle.

‘Danny?’ I said loudly, and everybody stopped and turned to look at me standing there with Leonie and Basil at the other end of the hallway. The man stopped walking and looked up with striking green eyes. He looked like Basil. So much like Basil. And like my mother, too. This man who had saved my mother’s life. Who had saved me.

He held my eyes. ‘Thank you,’ I said.

And then they led him away.

35

In a room set up more like a lounge room than an interview room, I gave my statement to the police; I told them about everything I’d seen, about everything that had happened in that kitchen. Leonie sat there with me while Basil waited outside, and her quiet presence helped me say what I had to say. In the car I was silent, all talked out. Leonie caught my gaze in the rear-view mirror. ‘Just in case you are, Anna, I don’t want you to judge your mum too hard for staying away. Don’t be too disappointed in her. She always tried to do what was best for Danny – for me and Danny.’

She was so good, Leonie. How could she be so good, in the face of everything? Whether it was Mum’s fault or not, Leonie had pretty much been left to deal with all the emotional fallout alone. Leonie had kept an eye on Bette, and hadn’t banned her from seeing Basil, she had taken control when it was needed back at the house. She had looked out for Danny, and tonight even, she had stayed with him, escorted him through all that police business, despite her own bad history with the police, despite how that must have felt for her. She had done so much for my family: for Bette, for Danny, for Cathy, for me.

‘You’re so strong, Leonie,’ I said. ‘The way you’ve picked everyone up. The way you’ve coped with all of this.’

Leonie just quietly shook her head. Her lips went tight. I thought perhaps I’d moved her, that perhaps no-one had ever told her that. I was surprised when the silence drew on and I looked closer at her face and realised I’d made her angry.

‘I’m sorry, I thought –’

‘Coped?’ said Leonie, incredulously. It burst out of her. ‘You think I’ve coped? You think when I dropped out of uni I was coping? When I had to kick out my weird and erratic partner who I loved to become a single mother, you think I was coping? You think when I was fifteen and some violent Euro-bastard ruined my life and I spent the next three years throwing rocks through his windows, smashing up fucking Bromley Cairn and dodging the law, I was coping? You think I’ve coped with your family fucking ruining my life? Thank me if you like, honey, but please, please, don’t go accusing me of coping.’