Time after Toby: thirty-four days. Dad said it was best this way. It wouldn’t be hanging over us for the next two years. He said it’d be hard no matter when it happened and it was best to get it over with.
‘But won’t I see you before court?’ I asked.
He didn’t answer for a while. ‘Jarrah, I miss you more than you can imagine,’ he said at last. ‘I hope you’ll understand. I can’t come back early. It’s too hard. The three of us will have coffee before the court case. Then Eddie is going to take you home and wait with you. OK?’
‘But …’ I didn’t understand. ‘Is that when we’ll say goodbye?’
‘I think this is best for all of us. And it might go well, and then I’ll be home.’
‘But Dad, I remembered something.’
‘It doesn’t matter, Jarrah,’ he snapped, so fast I was shocked.
‘But you didn’t go through—’
‘It doesn’t matter!’ His voice rose. ‘This case is about one thing only, Jarrah, and that’s how I modified the gate and that contributed to Toby drowning. That’s it.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Now, try not to think about it, OK? I don’t want you worrying about it. It’s nothing to do with you.’
I thought I was on to something and the disappointment rushed over me. ‘Nothing to do with me if you don’t come home for two years!’
‘Stop,’ he said, and his voice was weirdly calm. ‘I don’t want you there. I don’t want you to hear it all again. You can’t change the outcome.’
I wanted to hang up on him, but I forced myself not to.
‘When you do something wrong, you’ve got to pay for it. And this will do some good. It might stop someone else out there from putting some stupid thing on their pool gate or forgetting to close it. It might save some kid’s life.’
‘You sound like that Meredith woman.’
‘Yeah, well.’
‘So you won’t even come up the night before?’
I heard a sound in his throat before he answered. ‘If I do that I’ll never be able to walk into court.’
‘I don’t get you.’
‘You will, one day.’
‘But in the meantime you can’t be bothered to see us?’
I suppose I was hoping he’d snap, but he just didn’t react. He was quiet for a minute and then he said, ‘Jarrah, I love you more than any other thing on this whole planet, all right? It seems hard, but I’m trying to do the right thing for all of us. Can you trust me?’
I stared out into the night. All I could feel was him leaving. ‘I don’t know, Dad,’ I said.