Zhang stood in the living room beside the bay window, one side of his face lit by the sun. Alexandra could see beyond him into the winter garden. The bare branches of the maple trees stretched into the blue sky. Dewdrops shimmered on long grasses rippling like waves with the wind. Alexandra felt peaceful. Content. She touched her pendant and trusted in fate.

Zhang walked over to the old mahogany sideboard and picked up the faded wedding photo of Wilhelm and Romy, taken on the steps of Melbourne’s town hall. Opa had got down on one knee and proposed just six weeks after Romy had landed in Melbourne.

Alexandra didn’t need to see the picture—she knew it by heart. Wilhelm wore a dark suit and tie, Romy an elegant wool crepe suit with a scalloped hem at the knee. She held her felt pillbox hat to stop it blowing away as strands of curly hair whipped around her face. Their eyes were locked. A modern photographer would probably be sacked: unfortunately, in the background to one side, Nina was blowing her nose, her cheeks puffy and eyes bulging behind the handkerchief like a Tatzelwurm monster.

‘I guess they were the real deal,’ said Zhang.

‘In all my searching, that was the one fact I never doubted.’ She went to stand beside Zhang, using her sleeve to wipe the dust from the glass.

As she stared at the photo, Alexandra was suddenly five, on her first day of school. Her uniform was too stiff and it scratched the back of her neck. She longed to be in her bathers running under the sprinkler on the front lawn, her feet bare on the scratchy brown lawn. But she was curious about school and new friends. She planned to learn how to read that very first day! She’d told Opa and Oma so, and they’d chuckled.

Oma was tightening Alexandra’s pigtails, retying navy bows, hitching up her socks and twirling her around for a last inspection.

‘Now you have your lunchbox in your bag. You have a cheese and pickle sandwich for lunch and a banana for morning tea—’

‘Ach, thank goodness. I missed the tram and thought I was too late.’ Nina jogged up the front footpath with her skirt hitched above her knees, round cheeks glowing like red apples and dripping with sweat. ‘I’m here for the photo.’

They all busied themselves taking turns to be in a photo with Alexandra on the front steps. Nina insisted on coming and meeting Alexandra’s teacher (to check a Dummkopf is not teaching our little genius). Just before it was time to get in the car, Opa held up his hand.

‘Wait.’ He ducked behind the front seat. ‘I got these on the way home from the bakery this morning.’ He pulled out a bouquet of white and green lilies bigger than Alexandra’s head. They smelled like honey and cinnamon and the happy look Opa gave Oma made Alexandra buzz in her tummy and her arms in ways she couldn’t quite explain.

Oma’s eyes started to fill with tears. Alexandra frowned, puzzled.

‘Baihe hua,’ said Wilhelm so softly Alexandra almost missed it. Oma touched his arm and he embraced her so tightly Alexandra thought he might crush her.

Alexandra understood now what it was to feel an energy so ferocious it sometimes hurt. And, yet, when she was with Zhang she felt nothing but calm.

‘You’ll stay here, with your Oma.’

‘Of course, but we can—’

Zhang smiled. ‘Well, the dahlias could do with a prune, and the grasses need chopping back. I might look at transplanting the peonies in the spring.’

Alexandra stood on her toes and kissed him.

He pulled her close and tucked Alexandra’s head under his chin. He smelled like the earth. Safe and solid. ‘I thought I’d stay for a bit—if your Oma doesn’t mind.’

‘I think she’d love it. I’ve been telling her for years she needs a gardener!’

Zhang laughed. ‘Well, I have drawn up a few more plans for the garden. Also, I figure you’ll have some kind of plan of your own. If anyone can juggle three countries it will be you. We’ll just take it as it comes.’

Alexandra smiled and felt the sun warm her back as she reached for his hand and pressed it to her cheek. She was willing to take the risk.