TOMBSTONE

‘Shopping again? Do you have a second job I don’t know about, Westpac?’

‘I’m almost thirty! Time to start taking some pride in my home.’ Paulina waved a catalogue-page in Baz’s face. ‘What d’ya reckon? Cherry blossoms or damask?’

‘Damask. But if you rack up a phone bill from my desk, I’m docking your pay.’

‘Ooooo, check out this lamp. That’d be cute for reading in bed. I might finally finish Anna Karenina, with a lamp like this.’

‘I’m off to St Bartholomew’s. Don’t forget to answer the phone if it rings.’

‘Mate, my mum’s a receptionist. Answering phones is in my blood. By the way: you look really nice in your suit, boss. You should wear pants more often. Tell me your size and I’ll pick some out, no probs—’

Baz drifted out of reception in his funeral attire, shaking his head. Alone, Paulina picked up the phone and dialled.

‘Listen: my name’s Paulina and I wanna spend some money. Do youse ship to Fairfolk Island? Fairfolk Island, not “Finland”. Do I sound bloody Finnish to you? Yeah, yeah, I’ll hold. Don’t keep me waiting, but. I’m a working woman.’

As the hold music rankled her ears, Paulina spun in her chair, watched the mural blur.

‘About fucking time!’ she bitched when the chick returned. ‘I was about to call Ikea, ha-ha. You do ship to Fairfolk? Nice one! Yeah, nah, I never heard of Fairfolk either till I moved here. Are youse based in Sydney? Geez, I feel sorry for you, babe. I live in paradise. Only thing is, we don’t have department stores, so if I want the good stuff I have to get it shipped, and the ship only comes like once every six weeks, and it can’t even dock here, there’s this big reef so all the blokes have to go out in their boats and unload it by hand. It’s pretty dangerous! My ex carked it just last week, ha-ha-ha. Nah, don’t apologise! He got what he deserved. He raped me. He bashed me. I almost died cos of him. My head’s still fucked. My face is fucked. I used to be really cute. Now I’m shithouse without makeup. Oi, can I buy makeup from you, too, or is that like a separate department? Yeah, babe. I’ll hold.’

‘Paulina! What are you doing?’

Paulina was slow to turn. It wasn’t just the beer, slowing her reflexes; it was King’s Lookout in the dark, so sprawling and swirly with stars, she didn’t want to look away.

‘Kymbaleeeee!’ Giggling, she staggered to the car window. ‘I’m walking, duh.’

Kymba was dressed in black. In the passenger seat was Merlinda, red-faced and sticky. In the back, nodding off, was Old Merle.

‘Geez! Three generations! You celebrating?’

Kymba flushed and glanced at Merlinda. ‘We’re just coming back from Car’s funeral. Why’re you walking in the dark?’

‘Was at the Mutes’ front desk all day. Only just knocked off. You know me; I get stir-crazy if I don’t get my walk.’

Merlinda laughed. ‘Like a dog!’

‘Don’t mind Auntie Merlinda.’ Kymba rolled her eyes. ‘She’s grieving … and drunk.’

Paulina sipped her beer. ‘I’m just getting started. Gonna pop a bottle of champers when I get home.’

Merlinda stopped laughing. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘It means I’m living it up.’ Paulina flipped the bird at the K-I-N-G on the sign behind her. ‘The King’s dead! Fuck the King.’

‘That’s my nephew you’re talking about.’ Merlinda’s nostrils flared. ‘Do you have any idea how hard he worked?’

‘Not as hard as he hit me, hey. Not as hard as he choked me when I said I didn’t want it. Not as hard as he stuck it in—’

‘Lying mainie! Why don’t you come here and say that to my face?’

‘Auntie Merlinda.’ Kymba sighed. ‘Please.’

Paulina yanked the door open, slid into the backseat beside Merle.

‘Hey, Merle, how are ya?’ She patted his papery hand. ‘I was just saying what a bastard Car King was. He’s probably burning in hell as we speak, yeah?’

‘Don’t touch my father!’ Merlinda grabbed her hair. ‘Mainie bitch, you’re all the same. Using and abusing our men!’

‘Merlinda!’ Kymba cried.

‘I didn’t use him.’ Paulina dug her nails into Merlinda’s plump hand. ‘He used me.’

‘How much did you pay for that Mazda Astina, then?’

‘I paid!’

‘How much did you pay?’ Merlinda tugged her hair harder. ‘How much?’

‘I fucking paid.’

Paulina thrashed wildly at Merlinda; caught Merle’s cheekbone with her elbow. ‘Oh!’ the old man bleated, small and startled.

‘Shit!’ Paulina saw his face go patchy. ‘Sorry Merle! Gawd, I’m sorry.’

‘You assaulted my father?’ Merlinda pulled her hair again. ‘You come to our island, you disrespect our men, then you assault one of our elders?’

‘It was an accident. Kymba, you saw—’

‘Kymbalee!’ Merlinda barked.

‘Kymba! Tell her.’ Paulina pleaded. ‘You know what Car was like. Tell her.’

‘Kymbalee!’

‘Kymba?’

‘Just shut up.’ Kymba turned around in her seat, eyes crystalline with tears. ‘Paulina: it’s done. He’s gone. Can’t you just shut up, for once?’

‘But—’

‘Go home, Paulina. It’s been a long day. Please, just leave my family alone.’

Paulina cast a glance at Merle; he was staring out the window, arms crossed over his scrawny chest. ‘Sorry, Merle,’ she mumbled, peeling herself from the backseat.

‘You should be!’ Merlinda honked. ‘Go back to the mainland where you belong!’

Behind the wheel, swinging the car around, Kymba’s face was white and clenched. Paulina squinted in the headlights, then reeled in the sudden darkness. Slapped a mosquito from her neck.

They sucked her blood all the way home.

‘“Closed”! Are you kidding me?’

Paulina banged her palm against the warm glass door of the cop-shop; shielded her eyes and peered inside. There was sun on the carpet; dust motes playing in the sun. A fat blue water cooler. A table full of brochures. Not a soul in sight.

‘Try breaking in.’

Flinching, Paulina spun around to look at the young guy smoking a ciggie by the hibiscus bush. ‘Bloody hell! Didn’t see you there. You waiting too?’

He nodded. ‘Need to update my work permit.’

‘Wrong place, hey.’ Paulina dug in her handbag for her own ciggies. ‘There’s this office in the historical district. My ex used to work near there. Still does, I guess.’

‘Cheers.’ He offered his lighter. ‘You a mainie, too?’

‘How’d you guess?’ She laughed, cupped the flame. ‘Sydney. You?’

‘Perth.’

‘Oh, nice. I’ve got a sister in Perth. She teaches ESL at a school near Freo.’

‘I’m way north of the river. Marangaroo.’

Paulina sipped in smoke. ‘I dunno where that is.’

‘Not worth knowing.’ His eyes skimmed her legs; she was wearing her nice-girl skirt, strappy sandals. ‘I’ve seen you walking.’

‘Yeah, I walk. Good exercise.’

‘I get bored, walking. Prefer the gym.’ He flexed his arm a bit. ‘I offered you a lift one time. You weren’t interested.’

‘That’d be right.’ She looked at his arms; they were muscly. Cute face. A bit pale, but; the brown hair a tad too long, greasy. ‘Anyways, I updated my permit a few months back, when I changed jobs. It’s easy.’

‘Cheers.’ He flicked away the butt of his ciggie; she caught the flash of a wedding band. ‘I just got a new job. They want me to get all my shit together by Friday.’

‘Where’s the job?’

‘Great-O’s. I was a chef at The Pacifica, before then.’

‘Ha, my first job here was s’posed to be at Great-O’s … then they burned down. They’re my great white whale.’

‘Need a lift back into town?’

‘Nah, I’m good. I’ll wait a bit.’

‘I waited ages. I reckon they’ve closed up shop.’

‘Bloody slackers. I’ll wait a bit.’

‘You sure?’

‘Yeah.’ She blew smoke toward the street. ‘I’ll wait. I’ll walk.’

‘Sure?’

‘Yeah, I’m good.’ She forced a smile. ‘My car’s parked at the school, anyways. It’s not far. Good luck with the permit, hey. They’ll help you out down there. It’s really easy.’

‘Sure you don’t want a lift to your car?’

‘Yeah, mate.’ Her voice bit like a cornered animal. ‘I’m good, alright?’

‘Alright.’ He ducked his head politely. ‘See ya around.’

‘See ya.’

Paulina smiled tightly till the guy crossed the road, got into his white Camry, and drove off. Then she stamped on the butt, lit another ciggie, looked into the sunlit station some more, but couldn’t find whatever she was looking for.

She was drunk on goon when she dialled the emergency number. A lady answered.

‘Where’s your emergency?’

‘Yeah, nah. It’s not an emergency. I just wanted to talk to someone about—’

‘You need to call the station during business hours.’

‘Yeah, I tried. They weren’t open. I—’

‘Try again during business hours.’

‘Lady, can I just talk to the officer on duty? I wanna report a rape.’

The lady’s tone shifted. ‘Where’re you calling from?’

‘I’m home.’ Paulina’s head twanged. ‘But, look. It happened a few months back. The guy’s not around anymore—’

‘He’s left the island?’

‘Nah, he’s still here. Six feet under.’ She laughed wanly, swallowed more goon. ‘They buried him a few days ago. Only, I keep seeing his name. I read his obituary; it said all this shit. King among Kings. Loving Husband, Father. Didn’t say he’s a rapist, paedophile, scum of the earth—’

‘Darl,’ the lady cut in. ‘I’m sorry, but this isn’t a police matter.’

‘Yeah, but. What he did. That’s a crime.’

‘There’s nothing we can do, if he’s dead.’

‘But! His name? They keep saying his name like it’s good, but it’s shit. I know it’s shit. Can’t you do something? It’s fucking shit—’

‘Darl. I think you need to sleep it off. Tomorrow’s another day.’

‘But—’

‘This isn’t a police matter, darl. Try phoning Vy Carlyle; she’s a psych—’

‘I’m not talking to anybody named “Carlyle”, bitch!’

‘Sorry.’ The voice frayed. ‘I can’t help you.’

Then the line went dead.

‘Bitch!’ Paulina ripped the phone from the wall and stared for a long time at the cord on the floor, tempting. She clenched and unclenched her hands, drank more goon. It was ages before she picked herself up and tremulously plugged the phone back in.

She went outside and smoked. Outside was safer. After a while, Vera’s cat Katie jangled out of the darkness. ‘Hey, puss,’ Paulina mumbled. ‘What’s up?’

Katie dashed inside. She had something in her mouth.

‘Oi!’ Paulina cried. ‘What the fuck!’

Katie dropped the thing in the kitchen. It was a cockroach, still living.

‘Oi!’ Paulina watched it scuttle away. ‘Why’d you drop it?’

Katie pounced like an idiot.

Paulina laughed. ‘It’s gone, dickhead!’

Even so, Katie kept pouncing, yowling, walking in circles, her pupils big as coins.

‘Stupid cat.’ Paulina’s knees turned to jelly. ‘You’re so stupid.’

She sat herself down at the kitchen table, clung to it like a raft. The whole room merry-go-rounded. Then she threw up in the sink; guzzled tapwater.

A little while later, her mum rang.

‘Not you again,’ Paulina slurred. ‘Get a life.’

‘I’m just calling to see how you are. I won’t keep you long.’

‘Yeah. I’ve got enough on my plate, without you hassling me.’

‘Did you eat?’

‘Ha-ha! Cheese and crackers. It’s all down the sink, now.’

‘You threw up?’

‘Not on purpose!’

‘That’s not a good dinner. Can you please eat something else?’

‘Too drunk to cook.’

Judy sighed. ‘You know, if you lived in Sydney, you could order a pizza.’

‘Crackers!’

‘Oh, fine. Eat some crackers. As long as you put something in your stomach.’

Paulina set the phone down, got the box of crackers, and picked the phone back up.

‘I’m eating crackers.’ She chewed emphatically. ‘Happy now?’

‘Not really. But it’ll do. How are they?’

‘Stale.’

‘You know, if you lived in Sydney, you could go to Woolworths and buy everything fresh, instead of stale things from a mouldy old ship.’

‘What, are you the spokeswoman for Woolworths now?’

‘Still a receptionist.’ Judy sighed. ‘At least put some peanut butter on those crackers.’

‘I hate peanut butter.’

‘Since when?’ When Paulina didn’t answer, Judy sighed again. ‘Gawd. You get fussier every day. Do you still eat cream cheese?’

‘Finished it.’

‘Did you? Good girl. Well, buy some more at Foodfolk tomorrow.’

‘Foodfolk, the stale food peeeeeople!’ Paulina sang and cackled. ‘Gotta buy some bug spray, hey. This stupid cat, she brought a cockroach in—’

‘Nasty thing!’

‘Calm down. It’s just a cat, geez.’

‘Well, sorry! I don’t like them, though.’

‘You’re so mean. You never let me have pets.’

‘I let you have those budgerigars! And goldfish. I offered to get you a bunny, too, like your cousins had—’

‘Nah. Bronson would’ve killed it when he came over to play. Bloody serial killer.’

‘Yes, probably.’

‘Have they found the bodies yet?’

‘Any day now.’

‘Ha-ha!’ Paulina’s eyes stung with tears. ‘But, Mum.’

‘Yes, child?’

‘I lied, Mum. Bronson didn’t kill Lappy.’ Paulina covered her face. ‘I killed Lappy.’

‘You killed Lappy?’

‘Yeah — me!’ Paulina burst into tears. ‘I mean, like, it was an accident, obviously. I played with him too rough. But it was me, all me. Then I said Bronson did it, and youse all believed me, and Aunt Caro read all those books about serial killers and was always checking Bronson’s bed to make sure he didn’t wet it and — Why’re you laughing?’

‘Oh, Paulina!’ Judy choked out. ‘That’s brilliant.’

‘How’s that brilliant, psycho?’

‘Keeping quiet about that for twenty years? Gawd, no wonder you drink … you’ve got a guilty conscience!’

‘Muuuum!’

‘Darling.’ Judy laughed. ‘Don’t ever change, okay? There’s no one like you.’

‘No wonder. Look at who made me.’

‘You know, sometimes I think I’ve done nothing with my life.’ Judy laughed again. ‘Then I talk to you and think, “oh, wait, yes I have. Look what I made!”’

‘Bloody hell,’ Paulina groaned. ‘You have the lowest standards ever.’

Paulina’s head hurt worse than usual, waiting tables at the Mutes’ bistro. So bad, she felt the individual bones of her skull grinding against each other, her vision blurring.

When she dropped a plate of bacon and eggs, she screamed, ‘Fuck!’ and dropped to her knees, tears streaming.

‘It’s alright.’ Gayle, the bistro manager, crouched beside her. ‘Take a break. Wash your face. It’s alright.’

After work, she planned to go to Foodfolk. But when she passed Tabby’s Treasures and saw that curly blond head behind the counter going about her business, she could’ve driven her Mazda right into the shopfront, mowed the bitch down.

Instead, she parked.

‘Oi, Tabitha!’ She pushed inside the store. ‘Mourning period’s over already?’

Tabby’s nose narrowed. ‘I have a business to run.’

‘Yeah?’ Paulina picked up a business card. ‘Still going by “Tabitha King”?’

‘It’s still “King”, yes.’

Paulina’s eyes roved around the store; latched on a framed photo behind the counter. ‘You put up a picture of him?’

‘Yes, I put up a picture of Carlyle.’

‘You’re fucked in the head.’

Tabby looked her up and down. ‘You’ve off the wagon, aren’t you?’

‘I’m not drunk.’

‘You have been, though. You’re not doing yourself any favours. That’s the worst thing for it.’

‘For what?’

‘Your head.’

‘Your head’s more fucked than my head.’

‘Cut out the drinking. It’ll heal faster. And, if you really want to get better, go back to the mainland. I’m surprised you haven’t already.’

‘I’m here to stay, bitch.’

Tabby crossed her arms. ‘I don’t know what you hope to achieve, staying here. Coming into my place of business. You’d be better off going home to your mum.’

‘Leave my mum out of this.’

‘I heard a lot about your mum, when you were with me. “Mum, Mum, Mum,” that’s all I heard. Why don’t you let her look after you?’

Paulina shredded the business card. ‘You’ll never get rid of me.’

‘What do you want from me? I really don’t understand. I looked after you. I could’ve left you for dead. We could’ve thrown you in the ocean. We talked about that, you know.’

‘Fuck you!’ Paulina knocked the pile of business cards off the counter. ‘You want me to be grateful you didn’t put me out of my misery? Everything hurts, every day!’

‘Cut out the drinking. Go back to the mainland. It’ll hurt less. It’ll all feel like a bad dream, in time.’

‘I need to drink, after what I saw. Bloody hell, don’t you? He raped your daughter in your own house!’

‘I don’t know what you think you saw, but you were a drunk long before that. It’s probably why Car went for you. Just a cheap drunk who’ll say yes to anything.’

‘I know what I saw!’ Paulina banged on the nearest cabinet. ‘I know you know.’

‘If you’re going to start destroying property, I’ll have to call the police.’

‘Do it! I’ll tell them everything. I’ll tell them how you kept me in her room and drugged me.’

‘If that’s what you want.’ Tabby moved toward the phone, folded her hands over it. ‘But, just so you know, Sergeant Turner is an old friend of Car’s. Spoke at his funeral.’

Paulina screamed, swung at the cabinet. It shook but didn’t shatter.

‘You nasty thing.’ Tabby came over and steadied the cabinet, her green eyes aglow. ‘I’m just trying to get on with my life. Can’t you?’

‘No!’

‘What do you want? Money?’

‘No! Fuck.’

‘I’ll write you a cheque. I’ll pay for your flight home, and some. The Car Kings will buy back your Mazda. You’ll probably get more than you paid, seeing as Car gave you that discount.’

Paulina screamed again, hit the cabinet harder. This time, her hand went through.

‘Look what you’ve done!’ Tabby gasped. ‘Who do you think you are?’

She bustled to the shopfront, locked the door and turned the sign to ‘CLOSED’. Paulina drew her hand from the glass, marvelling at the red slicking her arm, how little pain she felt.

‘Do you feel better now? Tabby cried, getting a broom from behind the counter. ‘Do you feel good, now you’ve made another mess for me to clean up?’

Paulina reached her hand back through the spiky glass, picked up a rack of earrings and flung it.

‘Stop that.’ Tabby grabbed her arm. ‘Look at you. I’m not cleaning you up.’

Paulina laughed. ‘You’ve got blood on your hands. And it’s not just mine.’

‘What do you want?’ Tabby’s chin trembled. ‘As far as I’m concerned, we’re more than even. You’re still alive. You’ve made a mess of my life. If you want money, I’ll give you money … but that’s more than you deserve.’

‘I don’t want your money.’ Paulina walked around the counter, plucked Car’s photo from the wall. ‘When was this taken? He’s less fat. Still an ugly bastard, but.’

‘You’re going to break that too?’

‘Yeah, alright.’ Paulina chucked it across the shop. ‘Since you offered.’

‘Feel better?’

‘No.’

‘Go home to your mum. Go on. If you’re going to act like a child, you’d be better off home with your mum. I’m not your mum.’

‘I know you’re not my mum! My mum’s beautiful.’

‘Go home to her, then.’

‘Not till you say!’

‘I can’t tell you what you want to hear; it simply isn’t true.’

‘He raped her.’

‘That never happened.’

‘He did. I saw the pictures. He took pictures of her.’

‘You have no proof.’

‘The proof’s all over your face!’ Paulina peered at Tabby’s tight mouth, flaming cheeks. ‘Why’re you still lying for him? Did you even love her?’

‘Of course I loved her!’ Tabby rubbed her face, smearing it with blood. ‘I loved that girl more than life itself. She was a wild thing, but I loved her.’

‘You’re insane.’

‘She threw herself at Car. I still loved her. I forgave her.’

‘I saw those pictures. She was a kid.’

‘She was a Fairfolk girl. Our girls mature faster.’

‘She was scared shitless.’

‘She was a pretty girl. She knew it. She wouldn’t leave him alone. I don’t blame her … she never had a father till Car. I forgive her.’

‘That’s the story you’re telling yourself?’

‘It’s the only story.’

A group of tourists stopped at the shop window, squinted at the ‘CLOSED’ sign, then at Paulina and Tabby. ‘I can’t tell you what you want to hear,’ Tabby repeated. ‘And I don’t know why you think I owe you anything. You owe me your life. He’s dead. My daughter’s dead. I’m just trying to make the best of what I’ve got left.’

‘What, a jewellery shop he paid for?’

‘Yes. My business. My home. My health. My good name.’

‘Your name’s shit!’

‘I’m proud of my name. I’ll defend it to the grave.’ Tabby raised her chin. ‘So will a lot of people around here. Can you say the same for yourself?’

‘Who cares!’

‘You know what people think, when they hear the name “Novak”? They think you’re mainie trash. You’re a drunk. You’re a slut who can’t be trusted.’

‘Better than “King”.’

‘Maybe on the mainland. But you won’t find anyone around here, saying that. Go back to the mainland, why don’t you. Go home to your mum.’

‘Nah, bitch! This’s my home, too. I’ve got blood here!’

Paulina stalked toward the shopfront, smeared her bloody arm across the window.

‘See? That’s Novak blood. I’m here to stay. Don’t ever call me “mainie” again.’

She drove to Tombstone Beach straight after her dinner shift. It was totally black out. Dark came early, still. It was cold, even rugged up in her trakkies and hoodie. Lifting the graveyard’s quaint wooden gate, she saw her breath rise up like a ghost.

He was hard to find. There were shitloads of them, going back to the 1800s. Then her torch found a flash of bright-blue tiles among the grey stones.

TIFFANY EMILY KING

1985—2000

A beautiful angel

Briefly among us

Forever in our hearts

We’ll miss you every day

Until we meet in heaven, sweetheart

Mum & Dad

There was a dolphin engraved on the plaque. Seashells and starfish glued to the tiles. Blue glass hearts. Like a teenage girl’s bedroom in grave form. Paulina didn’t know whether to cry or throw up.

She passed her torch over the neighbouring headstone, and there he was. King Among Kings. Loving Husband, Father.

She took a swig from her flask. Then she shook up the spray-can.

Something rustled. Her heart stopped. Shit solidified in her guts, though she hadn’t eaten since yesterday. She flicked off her torch, tried to silence her body.

Nothing. Probably just the wind, or a feral chicken or something.

As soon as she flicked her torch back on though, there he was: golf shirt, pale lips, pale eyes, creeping among the headstones.

‘Oi, Yooey, you perv!’ Paulina chucked the spray can at him. ‘If you want a date, go to the pub like everyone else, for fuck’s sake!’

He bolted.

Terror in her heart, Paulina power-walked in the opposite direction, back to her car. As soon as the doors were locked, she guzzled the contents of her flask.

She found him the next day, right where she expected him to be: waiting for his Hawaiian ham-steak and chips at the Bowls Club.

‘Hey, Merle,’ she said softly — too soft for him to hear. She tried again, louder, with a little wave. ‘Merle?’

Merle started. The look in his eyes was pure alarm. He still had a mark on his cheek.

‘Making it up to your boyfriend after your tiff, eh?’ Kobby heckled her from the green.

Paulina rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, something like that.’

‘You know where to find me, if it doesn’t work out.’

‘Cheers.’ Paulina pulled up a chair and looked at Merle. ‘Can I?’

He looked at her for a long time, unreadable as a cat perched on a high fence. Then he said, ‘Alright.’

Paulina smoothed her nice-girl skirt as she sat.

‘Just wanted to say, I’m really sorry for …’ She pointed at his cheek. ‘All that. It was an accident. I feel so bad.’

Merle nodded.

‘Do you think you can forgive me, someday?’

Merle nodded, smiled. ‘It’s alright.’

‘Geez! That was easy.’ Tears spilled from her eyes. ‘I got you some presents, too; Fisherman’s Friend. I know how you like them.’

Paulina rummaged in her handbag, pulled out a handful of packets and arranged them in front of Merle. He nodded appreciatively. ‘Thank you.’

‘Also, this.’ She brandished a tube of sunscreen. ‘I thought you might need it, since summer’s coming. The sun gets pretty strong out here.’

Merle pulled a face like she’d fed him something sour. ‘I’m not a mainie.’

‘Yeah, I know!’

‘Keep it,’ he told her. ‘For yourself.’

Paulina rolled her eyes and stuffed it back inside her bag. ‘Fine, but don’t blame me if you get skin cancer.’

Merle found that hilarious. When he was done laughing, he said, ‘Lunchtime?’

‘Yeah.’ Paulina glanced at her watch. ‘Should be here soon.’

‘Salad for you?’

‘Oh, nah. Not today.’

Merle looked so heartbroken, Paulina bit her lip, checked her watch again. ‘I mean … I guess there’s time. They’re probably closed for lunch, anyways.’

Merle didn’t ask who “they” were, just smiled big.

‘Hey,’ Paulina greeted Barry, the bartender. ‘What salads do you have today?’

‘Pine Brew. Lion Red. Steinlager—’

‘Yeah, nah. Actual salad.’

‘Caesar. Pasta. Niçoise.’

‘Ugh … Niçoise, I guess.’ She handed over her card. ‘I’ll get Merle’s lunch, too.’

When the salad came, it was just a dank mix of lettuce, pickled vegetables, and canned tuna. She picked up her fork begrudgingly, nibbled an olive.

‘Alright?’ Merle asked her.

‘Yeah,’ Paulina bluffed. ‘It’s alright.’

She ate just enough for it to not seem like an insult.

It was an hour till school pick-up when Paulina left the cop shop, but Kymba’s car was already parked outside. Kymba rolled her window down as Paulina was walking to the Mazda.

‘There you are. I was wondering why your car was here.’

‘Oh, yeah. I was at the station. Yooey was being a pest again. Was hoping they could give him a warning or whatever.’

‘He’s had so many warnings.’ Kymba rolled her eyes. ‘He didn’t touch you, did he?’

‘Nah, just spooked me a bit. It was nighttime. I didn’t know he came out at night.’

‘He usually doesn’t. His mum’s in hospital right now. That’s probably why.’

‘Yeah, that’s what they said. Oi, why’re you here so early?’

Kymba nodded at Ollie, strapped into his baby chair in the backseat. ‘I was driving him around. It helps put him to sleep. Then I figured, the others will be out soon. I may as well enjoy the quiet time while I have it.’

Paulina laughed, glanced at the passenger seat.

‘Go ahead.’ Kymba smiled. ‘It’s nice talking to an adult after a day of goo-goo ga-ga.’

Letting herself into the car, Paulina shut the door softly. ‘Gawd, he’s beautiful. Look at those cheeks.’

‘No freckles, yet. Hopefully he won’t take after Simmo like the other two.’

‘I saw Merle before.’

‘Oh? How is he?’

‘Yeah, fine. Just wanted to say sorry for the other night.’

Kymba looked blank.

‘You know.’ Paulina mimed. ‘After Car’s funeral. When I elbowed him?’

Kymba flushed. ‘Oh God! I completely forgot. Can you tell my brain is mush?’

‘Ha, kinda.’

‘Sorry about that. Merlinda was way out of line.’

‘Yeah. I provoked her, but.’ Paulina drew up her sleeve to show her bracelet of bandages. ‘Tabby, too.’

‘Oh my God, Paulina!’ Kymba gasped. ‘What did you do?’

Paulina shrugged. ‘Tried to get her to own up to some shit. She wouldn’t.’

‘They’re all like that, the older ones.’ Kymba waved her hand. ‘Well, not all of them. But a lot of them. They’re so attached to this idea of what it means to be a “King”, it’s like the law doesn’t apply to them. It doesn’t, a lot of the time.’

‘Yeah?’

‘A few years back, when I was pregnant with Hunter …’ Kymba fingered the steering wheel. ‘A group of boys ganged up on this one girl. When her parents tried to report it, the boys’ mums all said they were home watching TV.’

‘Shit.’

‘I wanted to leave, then and there. Simmo convinced me to stick it out. He said this place’d never change if we just left it to the dogs. I’ll see if he’s still saying that when Zoe turns twelve.’

‘Bloody hell.’

Kymba shrugged. ‘It’s not like those things don’t happen on the mainland; it’s just not someone with your surname, normally. At least I can tell Zoe who to avoid.’

‘Hope she listens better than me.’

‘Car.’ Kymba shook her head. ‘I felt so cool, when he took an interest. I didn’t stop to think what this big man who’d travelled all around the world was doing buying booze for his kid-cousin.’

‘You were cooler than me. I never drank till I was legal. Just stayed home having screaming matches with Mum.’

‘Oh, I did that, too. I’m sure I’ve got some bad karma coming.’

‘You’ll be right.’

‘I’ll stay away from the supply ship, just in case.’ Kymba smiled at her sidelong. ‘I still can’t believe that happened, you know. It makes me so happy.’

Paulina laughed. ‘I was at the doctor’s. I just cracked up. He thought I was mental.’

‘Sometimes I start laughing when I’m home with the kids and they’re all, “What’s so funny, Mummy?” I don’t know what to tell them: “Oh, just thinking about how your Uncle Car had to be fished out of the Pacific so the sharks wouldn’t eat him”?’

‘Ha, maybe when they’re older.’

‘No,’ Kymba said. ‘They won’t even know they had an Uncle Car, when they’re older. His name won’t mean anything.’