Basil, however, heart on his sleeve, was dancing around and saying, ‘This has been so cool, cuz, so cool. It’s like we’ve, like, found each other. And when do I get to meet Nassim? I want to check he’s good enough for you and all that.’

I loved that idea. I couldn’t wait to put Nassim to the Basil test. ‘Yeah! Let’s figure something out there. And anyway, we’ll be in touch about Danny, alright? We’re going to do everything we can.’

Basil hugged me. It started off normal. A tight, heartfelt hug. And then it turned into a weird tick-tocking back and forth swaying until we nearly lost our balance and fell apart giggling.

‘Love you, cuz,’ he said.

‘Love you too. Look after our grandma, won’t you?’

‘Of course!’ he said, and he fist-bumped me, and then shook his fingers in mock-pain at my amazing super strength.

‘I hope you have some better material next time I see you,’ I said.

And then finally Mum and I were inside the silver bullet together, waving goodbye as Leonie and Basil and Bette headed inside, Leonie with a soft hand on Basil’s shoulder, and Basil with his arm draped casually and protectively over our grandma’s shoulders.

39

The rest of the drive back to Sydney was a trip back to 1996. After a few prompts Mum began talking, and once she began it was as if she couldn’t stop. She talked, her voice still croaky and tight. But she talked. She talked all the way to Gundagai, telling me all about her childhood and about Danny and the birthday parties and Leonie and Secret Cake and swimming at the waterhole and smoking and Becky and Madonna – at which point I interrupted her to search up Bedtime Stories on my phone and link it to the hire car’s Bluetooth so that Madonna’s soundtrack to the mid-nineties crooned along with us as we drove back in time. My mother talked about Hessel’s looming presence in the family but charming European persona outside of it, and the horses, and Danny’s secret room in Bromley Cairn and Leonie and Danny’s love for each other.

‘Like you and Nassim,’ she said. ‘Something really great, but really young.’

‘Which can be a problem,’ I said, my hand on my abdomen. Mum nodded without taking her eyes off the road and reached out and took my hand.

‘We’re going to get through this, okay?’ she said. ‘You and me and Nassim and Dad.’

‘Dad knows?’

‘Yes. We spoke this morning. He’s going to call you when we get home.’

I nodded. It felt like the final piece, my dad knowing. It felt like everything in the right place. Mum gave my hand a last squeeze then put both hands back on the steering wheel. I brought my hand around and rested it with the other one on my abdomen. I knew what was in there now, thanks to Geraldine. I knew that the spark of life that was there was both amazing and as everyday and ephemeral as a butterfly in summer. I kept my hands together there and closed my eyes and the car gently swayed me, swayed us – me and this first little one of mine, this tiny fleeting spark of life, this little shooting star – and a lump rose in my throat.