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was what I’d come for. For this small light in the darked-out room I was stuck in on my own. Mum and Tim had been tied up tight together. He saw her in a way none of the rest of us did.

We all knew the story.

Mum had been wearing a new day dress she’d just finished sewing. Nobody else noticed. But after the milking Tim had burst into the kitchen with his little-boy energy. He flew straight at her. He put his hands up to her waist. ‘You look real nice, Mummy.’ I wanted that seeing on my side.

‘Missed a good funeral,’ I said. ‘Mrs Nolan had her talons out, though.’

‘I hear you kept out of her way.’

‘Did you now?’ I bit into the cake. ‘She tell you herself?’

He shrugged a yes.

‘She’s certainly doing the rounds, then.’

He picked up the slice of cake Shelley had slid before him and bit off half of it in one go again. ‘Nancy’s not a bad old stick.’

‘She’s a bloody nosy cow,’ I said, with my mouth equally full of cake. ‘And I don’t need her apology after all these years.’

‘Old man’s been weird since Peg kicked the bucket,’ he said. ‘Thought it best to stay and keep an eye on him.’

‘You were with him?’

‘Needed a loan of his vice about that time.’

‘What kind of weird?’

Tim shrugged. ‘Edgy. Bit my head off when I told him he needed to put Max out to pasture.’

Shelley shuddered. ‘Hate that bloody bull.’

‘Like an old man and his mongrel dog,’ said Tim. ‘Stuck with each other.’

‘Max is a mongrel,’ said Shelley.

‘I tell him nearly every time I’m over there, but the other day he flew off the handle.’ He nodded at me. ‘You’ve got time on your hands, JJ. You should talk to him. Find out what’s got him cranky as a cut snake.’

I laughed.

‘I mean it,’ he said, suddenly serious.

A dead quiet followed.

‘I tried,’ I said finally. ‘After Peg’s funeral. Same old. Hasn’t told me one straight thing in more than a decade.’

‘You think this has got to do with Mum, then?’

I told him about Mrs Tyler. I told him about the calendar, about Peg’s diaries. I pulled my backpack closer and reached in to take out the Map of Mum. He reached for Shelley’s hand. He watched me, saying nothing as I unfolded it and smoothed it flat against the table. Both he and Shelley moved in closer, his eyes busy on the forest of colours where only red facts should be.

‘Mmm,’ he grunted. He turned to scrabble about in a drawer in the sideboard. Found what he was looking for. Held it out to Shelley and me. ‘If you’re after facts, you’d better see this.’

I took the photocopied page in the clear plastic sleeve from him. ‘Where did you get this?’

He waved a dismissive hand. ‘Round at Dad’s. Just gathering dust there. Thought it needed a bit of looking after.’

I ran my index finger over the facts and figures of Mum’s death on the certificate. ‘Mmm,’ I grunted back. ‘Nothing we don’t know here.’

He nodded. ‘But it’s something.’ He gestured towards my Map of Mum. ‘You can turn at least one of those things red.’

He was right. I’d had a question mark over the exact time. And now we had the doctor’s name. Shelley found me a red Texta and I made the new additions.

‘Reckon you should talk to Nancy. I reckon she’s got more on her mind than an apology.’

‘She’s just a bloody busybody. Mum didn’t even like her.’

‘Grow up, JJ. She drove Mum to the station. You say you want facts.’

‘Why haven’t you spoken to her, then?’

‘I’m not the one constructing timelines and maps.’

He stared me out.

‘I’m not interested in her stupid opinions. I’m after facts.’

‘In that case, you should check out that address in Mum’s Mass book.’

‘I never saw—’

‘Ninety-five Righton Street, Richmond,’ he broke in.

‘You remember it?’

He did a half shrug.

‘Why didn’t you check it yourself all these years?’

‘I’m not like you, all broken and bloody, and holding on to all of this.’

‘Me?’ I exploded. ‘I haven’t said boo to any of you for fourteen bloody years.’

‘You never had to say anything, JJ. It was always saying it for you.’

The cat yelped as I stood up, flinging it from my lap.

‘What about you?’

‘I’m getting on with my life.’

‘You can’t even propose, you gutless wonder.’

He glared at me, and sent an uneasy glance towards Shelley, who was busy looking out the window as if she was wondering when it might next rain. But she did her own glaring at me as soon as the coast was clear.

‘Maybe I shouldn’t be chasing it down then, either,’ I said. I wanted to know how far he’d go. He liked to pretend it wasn’t any of his business, but underneath I could see he was all burn to know what happened to Mum, just as long as I’d be camouflage he could hide behind.

‘Maybe,’ he said, calling my bluff. He took his cup and saucer to the sink, rinsing them under the tap.

I let him crash things about a bit. Then he turned back. ‘Ever get there to see her?’ he asked, tone all reasonable curiosity now, nodding towards the end of his road where the cemetery was.

‘What good would that do me?’ I narrowed my eyes, wondering what new bait he was laying out.

He shifted like he couldn’t find a comfy spot against the sink. I didn’t miss the look he exchanged with Shelley, though. ‘Dunno,’ he finally said.

‘What about you? You ever go?’

‘Too busy.’ He got his arms crossed up.

I let the silence do some work.

‘Maybe. Sometimes,’ he said.

‘Does she talk to you?’

He shook his head like he had to get rid of a fly. ‘She’s dead, JJ.’

With my elbows to the table, the hollows of my palms made beds for my eyes. The darkness made more things possible.

I felt the heat of Shelley’s hand on my forearm.

‘Look,’ Tim said without any hint of her compassion. ‘If you’re even half serious, you’ll go to

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