says.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Before your time. Before you were born.’ He leans back and laughs. ‘You were probably the result of it all. The cure for the disease.’
I don’t know what he’s talking about.
‘You’d better ask Jan,’ Gary says. ‘She knows the story best.’
‘What story?’
‘Of how Mum and Dad nearly blew apart. Around the time Mum broke her leg. Auntie Rose had to come and take care of us while Mum was in hospital.’
This is all news to me. ‘Why didn’t anyone tell me?’ I ask.
‘Because you’re younger. And because you’re different.’ Gary stuffs down the rest of his cake and stares out over the garden while he chews and swallows. ‘Ask Jan,’ he says. ‘She’ll tell you.’
After Gary’s, I find a long lonely beach to walk on. I stay out till dark to be away from the house. I’m afraid Emma might ring and I don’t feel up to her excuses.
Sure enough, the light is flashing on the answering machine when I get home. I press the playback button and sit down when I hear Emma’s voice.
‘Tom, I’m really sorry about this morning. Nick shouldn’t have come barging in like that. Will you ring me when you get in? . . . Please?’
I look at the phone but can’t bring myself to pick it up. Instead, I thaw lamb chops to cook for a late dinner. Then I cut up a few vegies to go alongside. Jess is satisfied with her usual bowl of kibble. I’m rummaging around in the fridge looking for broccoli when the phone rings. I let it ring a couple of times, but I have to answer it. It could be Jacinta with news about Mum. But it’s Emma. Her words tumble out in a rush.
‘Why did you run out?’ she asks, then blusters in again before I can reply. ‘Actually, I don’t blame you. Nick can be very intimidating. He likes to think he owns me. We’ve had a bit to do with each other since I got back—you know what it’s like.’
There it is. The admission.
‘I’d just like you to know that he doesn’t own me,’ she says, talking through my silence. ‘I can do what I like.’
I don’t know what to say.
‘Pick me up tomorrow after work,’ she says. ‘I’ll wait for you out the front of the antdiv. Five o’clock.’
‘All right,’ I say. Stupidly.
‘Good. I’ll be waiting for you.’
Later, when I’ve retired to bed, I hear a noise on the porch. It’s probably a possum looking for a morsel of apple. But Jess tenses and leaps up from her rug, so I slip into the lounge room to check it out. A torchlight is flashing through the window and when I open the door Laura is there, ghostly in the dim light. Her face is a mask of white, a dark streak on one cheek.
‘Sorry to wake you.’ Her voice is a whisper, barely audible above the wind in the trees.
‘I was awake.’
‘Mouse has cut himself and I need to get him to hospital. But I can’t drive while he’s in such a state.’ She rubs a hand across her cheek and looks down at her fingers, wiping them absently on her jumper. I realise the dark smudge is blood.
‘What about an ambulance?’
‘It’ll take twenty minutes to get here. And I don’t want anyone manhandling him in the house. I want him to be able to come back home without fear.’
For a moment I hesitate, wavering indecisively. But who else can help her? ‘All right. I’ll get my keys.’
‘Thank you.’
When I return she’s already running down the hill and across the road, legs flashing beneath the street light. I walk quickly to the car and Jess slips through the door and onto the floor on the passenger side before I can stop her. There’s no time to take her back. I roll the car down the driveway.
Shouting and banging noises are coming from inside Laura’s house. I wait in the car for a few minutes, unsure. Then I go to the front door, which is open. Laura is in the hallway holding onto the wrists of a large dark-haired man. He’s clearly resisting her and his movements are strong and wild. He’s very upset.
‘Mouse,’ she says, not in the wispy fragile voice I’ve heard before, but loudly. ‘Mouse. You stop that right now. Put your hands down and listen to me.’
The man sees me in the doorway and drops to the floor like a frightened animal. He cowers against the wall,