Ben’s head jerks, his eyes wide.
We stand in a strange little triangle on the porch. I feel like I’m going to explode.
‘How dare you!’ I snap.
Vanessa doesn’t let up. ‘I don’t understand what you’re doing, putting yourself in danger. It’s like you don’t even care. What’s wrong with you?’
‘Shut up.’ The words slice out of my mouth, and I’m worried I will slap her if I don’t leave.
‘Mum?’ Ben’s little face tilts upward, solemn between us.
I rush down the veranda stairs, my boots sliding on the storm debris, tugging Ben along behind me. The sun tentatively prods at the night’s carnage as if trying to work out what’s salvageable. A cherry picker is parked in the street a few houses along from the Gordons’, and two men in high-vis vests are wrestling a fallen tree off a car.
Ben and I walk along the beach amid an eerie calm. Today the ocean looks as innocent as a child. My son seems deep in thought and I wonder if, by some miracle, he didn’t hear what Vanessa said.
I call Tran but there’s no update on de Luca’s condition. Critical but stable.
‘Daniel Clark probably saved her life, you know.’
‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I know. Apparently he was a surf lifesaver years ago.’
‘God,’ I say, watching Ben bend down to examine a shell.
‘We’ve recovered Lane’s body from the rocks. I’ve just left his parents’ place. The autopsy will be tomorrow.’ She pauses. ‘Dot is going ahead with her statement about Daniel this morning.’ Tran sounds just as exhausted as me.
‘Where is Daniel now?’
‘Still at the house with Dot and the kids. We’re taking their statements about last night in an hour. Dot will go last. The plan is to detain him then.’
‘When will Rick’s body be released?’ I ask her.
‘Wednesday, I think. The weapons expert is scheduled to examine the body tomorrow. I spoke to Georgina Fletcher earlier—they’re now staying with her sister. I think they’ll have the funeral on Friday.’
‘Still no word on Aiden?’
‘Apparently not. Maybe he’ll come out of the woodwork when he hears that Daniel has been put away.’
‘Right. If he and Rick were involved in trafficking drugs, Aiden probably assumed his brother’s death was caused by that, but Daniel’s arrest might make him think otherwise.’ I struggle through a bracing yawn. ‘Please keep me posted about de Luca. And Daniel’s arrest.’
‘Will do.’
I call out to Ben, who is picking up pieces of seaweed from the shoreline and chucking them in the water.
‘Did you find the missing girl yet?’ he asks me, squinting into the sun.
‘Not yet.’ I nudge a piece of driftwood with my foot. ‘But no matter what, we’re going home soon. To Smithson. I think we should leave tomorrow. Does that sound good?’
‘Yeah.’ He’s staring out at the ocean.
More than anything I want to read his mind, to sift through his thoughts and check that he really is okay.
‘Why are you and Vanessa fighting?’ he asks.
‘It’s complicated. I lost my temper and I shouldn’t have.’
‘Are you having a baby like she said?’
The world tips one way and then another.
‘I don’t know,’ I say finally.
‘With Mac?’
‘I don’t know.’ My mouth feels full of wool. I lick my lips. Salt. ‘Maybe.’
‘I like Mac.’
‘Me too,’ I whisper.
‘Mum, can I ask you another question?’
My throat constricts. ‘Of course.’
‘Is “Mac” Mac’s real name?’
I let out the breath I’ve been holding, stroke his hair. ‘It’s “Cormac”, but I don’t think anyone ever calls him that.’
Ben smiles and darts off, grabbing a fallen tree branch and dragging it along the sand to join another one.
‘Be careful,’ I say automatically.
‘I am,’ he replies just as swiftly.
For a few minutes I watch him wrangle the branches into a rough tepee, the crease of concentration between his eyes an exact replica of Scott’s.
I sit on a flat shelf of rock and draw my knees to my chest, folding my arms and resting my chin on them. I’m drained. Lane’s broken body looms in my mind; I squeeze my eyes shut trying to make it go away. The loose threads of his guilt taunt me. What exactly did he do?
‘Mac!’ Ben shouts.
I turn to the right and open my eyes. Ben has run off in the direction we came from. I gaze past him down the beach to see Mac rushing along the sand toward him, a worried look on his face.
I get to my feet. Maybe I’m dreaming.
He approaches with Ben jogging happily beside him.
‘Ben, can you go back to finishing what you were building before, please?’
He rolls his eyes but trots off.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ I hiss at Mac.
He falters. Flushed red and out of breath, he holds up a hand. ‘I heard what happened last night. You didn’t answer my calls so I went straight to the Gordons—they said you came this way.’ He pauses, still huffing. ‘Gemma, are you alright?’
My face scrunches up as I try to understand. ‘You flew here this morning? How?’
‘I never left,’ he says, eyes pleading.
‘What?’
‘I couldn’t, Gem! Not after what you told me. I couldn’t just go back to Sydney and pretend everything was fine. I’ve been working from here and keeping a low profile.’
‘And keeping tabs on me?’ I snap.
‘It wasn’t like that. You know I care about you. You have to stop acting like it’s a bad thing.’
I fold my arms and fight another wave of exhaustion. ‘So, what, you’re staying at The Parrot?’
‘Yeah. I asked Cam not to say anything.’ Mac steps closer. ‘Please, don’t be angry. I was worried. Your dad was worried too, and so was Jonesy. Candy too.’
‘Great,’ I mutter, furious at the idea of everyone talking about me.
‘Gemma—’
‘Take me to the hotel? Please. I need to sleep.’