‘In the old house?’

‘Yes, in Bromley Cairn. I’ve just been over there and I noticed the power points.’

‘Oh yes, Hessel put them in years ago. They run on the same power as here, as far as I know.’

‘Oh good.’

‘You went inside, did you say?’ Bette stopped knitting.

‘Yes. I wanted to try setting up a study desk over there so I can give you and Hessel a bit of space.’

She looked concerned. ‘Oh, Anna, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.’

‘Oh? Why not?’

‘Oh, just because.’ She dithered. She seemed at a loss. ‘Just wait there, let me get your grandfather.’ She put down her knitting and shuffled off out the back door. The program returned from the ad break and played exactly the same scene Bette had just watched, milking it for all the advertising time it was worth.

Bette returned with Hessel in tow, and without any preamble Hessel said, ‘No, Anna. This is not a good idea. We haven’t made the floor safe yet. It’s not safe. Okay?’ He clapped his hands and turned to leave again, as though that was it, the subject was closed.

I caught Bette looking at me pityingly and I smelled an opening. ‘But I wouldn’t touch anything,’ I said, and Hessel lingered in the doorway. ‘It’s just, well, I don’t want to stay here if I can’t study.’ As well as being manipulative, this had the benefit of being true. ‘And I don’t think I can study in there,’ I said, gesturing to Cathy’s bedroom. ‘It’s all a bit close. So I think perhaps I’ll have to leave.’

Bette looked panicked. ‘Oh! Well, then, Hessel, maybe we should let her use it. Hessel? She’s already been in there and it was fine. If she stayed downstairs . . .’

‘No,’ said Hessel.

‘But I could totally stay downstairs, Hessel. Nothing simpler. Why would I want to go upstairs? What’s so good about upstairs anyway? And I’m not talking about sleeping over there. Just studying. Just a desk. Just daytime.’

The two of them exchanged a glance.

‘I won’t go up the stairs. I promise I won’t.’

‘Hessel?’ said Bette. ‘Can she? Please?’

Hessel looked at his wife. He sighed. ‘Bette would very much like you to stay,’ he said. ‘Just don’t go up the stairs, not even one or two. It’s not safe. And also, upstairs there are very angry possums, running about, banging things, and if you go up there they will eat you. You think I am not serious? I am very serious, Anna. Well, about the stairs I am very serious. Can we trust you?’

I couldn’t tell you what came over me then – I felt pulled back from a precipice and overcome with gratitude. I threw my arms around Hessel’s neck and kissed his sagging spiky cheek. ‘Of course you can trust me! Thank you, Grandpa. Thank you!’

‘Hessel,’ he corrected, and then he brightened as he said, ‘And I think there’s even an old table over there that you can use.’ I said nothing and kissed his prickly cheek again.