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Where are you? then continue my search through the hospital.

Half an hour later, worn-out and numb, I return to Wayan and the van. There’s no sign of Max at this hospital and no matching descriptions so far. I guess that’s a good thing. But it’s torture not knowing for sure. At least when you have all the facts you can start to deal with them. Until then it’s more searching, and waiting - the endless waiting - and anxious jumping every time the phone rings.

Wayan offers me a cigarette. I don’t smoke. It’s hot, the air is thick and it hurts to breathe, but I accept his offer. He puts his arm around me while I cry and we smoke together in silence as chaos swirls all around us.

Wayan takes me to Graha Asih Hospital, and I repeat the awful process. Nothing.

We head back to the hotel. I’m angry with the gawking crowds growing ever thicker on the streets. Why are they here? Why are there sightseers taking photos of the hospital? They’re blocking the access of those who need to get to the hospital - all those broken bodies still being recovered.

I try to blink away the tears as they form but they’re falling too fast. Glancing out the window, I see my reflection. I look tired and drawn. Millions of thoughts race through my mind: the past, our love, but the most important of all - what am I going to say to Sam and Bella? The thought of telling them their father is dead fills me with dread and despair.

I close my eyes and somehow manage to nod off because the next thing I know we’re back at the hotel and Max is opening the car door.

‘Lucy!’

‘Thank God, Max. Is that really you?’ I fall into his arms, huge sobs escaping my mouth. ‘Thank God, thank God,’ I say, kissing him over and over again. The father of my children is alive. My relief is beyond any emotion I’ve ever experienced. (Including how I felt when Trish blurted out the news about Max and Alana.)

‘Where have you been? Everyone’s been so worried.

You’re okay?’ I say, hugging him tighter, tears rolling down my cheeks. ‘I thought you were dead.’

Max hugs me back. ‘I know. I’m sorry. I can explain.’

‘As soon as I heard about the bomb, I rang your mobile,’ I say. ‘Then your hotel. When you didn’t answer, the kids and I -’ I swallow my tears. I know I have to be strong. I need to focus on Max and our children.

‘It’s okay. We’re all okay,’ Max tries to reassure me, rubbing my back and squeezing me tightly.

‘I guess, but it’s just so awful - all those dead people, and so many others badly wounded. I thought I’d never see you again.’

‘Hey, I’m all right. I’m here. I’m sorry about everything you’ve been through,’ he whispers in my ear.

‘I was worried for the children . . . you’re their father.’

‘And not a very good one,’ he says. ‘I am so sorry, Luce. I really haven’t done the right thing by you or the kids.’

‘You’re okay now, that’s the main thing.’

I’m so exhausted. I don’t want to argue with Max, or ask him why he’s been fucking us around - his children, his family. Maybe it’s because I don’t want to hear the answer, or maybe I’m just too tired and relieved right now.

‘How are Bella and Sam?’ he continues.

‘Missing you. They’ll be pleased you’re here. I’ve left them in the hotel’s care. And Alana?’ I ask, her name catching in my throat.

‘In shock. She’s spoken to Trish . . . it’s not easy for her.’

‘No, I guess it isn’t.’

Of course, it’s been a cakewalk for me, I want to say, but I don’t because I’m trying to become a better person in light of everything I have seen today.

Bella and Sam are beside themselves with happiness at seeing their dad. Max stays with us for the rest of the day, and in the early evening he has dinner with us in the hotel’s seafood restaurant.

‘Enjoying the evening?’ he asks me at one stage, giving me a warm smile.

I look at the kids engrossed in eating their messy mud crabs, relaxed and safe, and I can’t help but nod. This is making me feel nostalgic for a time when Max wanted to be part of our family.

‘Why were you so worried about the bomb, Mum?’

Bella asks. ‘Did you think Dad had been killed?’

‘No, of course not,’ I reassure her.

‘Mum was worried because the whole family wasn’t together, but we are now,’ Max says, stroking Bella’s hair. ‘You’re growing up so quickly, Bell. Soon, you’ll be as tall as your mum.’

‘What about me?’ Sam asks, bouncing up and down in his chair like an overgrown puppy.

‘You too, sport; you’ve shot up in the last few weeks.’ Sam beams with pride.

Max hands me a glass of wine just as the restaurant doors fold back and a dozen or so Legong dancers take to the outdoor stage nearby. We have a perfect view and the children are fascinated.

‘I didn’t expect to be doing this tonight,’ I say, sipping my drink and watching the dancers against the backdrop of the shimmering ocean and full moon.

‘Yeah,’ says Max. ‘It’s been a great night, considering.’

I look over at Bella, who is imitating the hand movements of the female dancers. Sam is mesmerised: first by the musicians, then by the dancers’ colourful bird costumes.

‘Hey you,’ Max says, bending over to kiss me - on the lips. ‘Can I stay tonight?’

‘What about Alana?’

‘I love you, Lucy, I always have,’ he whispers.

‘Max, I’ve been so angry with you. And today, with everything . . . I don’t know what to believe anymore.’

‘You don’t believe I love you?’

‘I don’t know. At the moment, all I can focus on is how happy I am that you’re alive.’

‘I want to come home, Lucy,’ he says, looking sincere. ‘Today, I realised how much you mean to me, how much our

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