Page 121 of So Steady

And she’d held up her wrist. “Prove it.”

Nicole dropped her arm back to her side and looked around. “I should go help Sam with the punch. Be back soon.”

“Sure,” he said and watched her leave, noting she’d sat in mustard or something and there was a yellow stain on the back of her pretty white dress. He opened his mouth to tell her about it, but Tabby slashed a hand across her throat. “It’s payback for throwing out my old Barbie playhouse. Tell her and I’ll slap the fuck out of you.”

Noah rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the barbecue, though he couldn’t stop smiling.

This was life, he realised. Filth and wholesomeness living side by side, crossing over and flipping back. There wasn’t anything purely pure or perfectly bad, they were colours melting together like they did in the sunset he’d tattooed into Nicole’s right wrist.

He looked up and saw Sam and Nikki laughing about something, their faces full of identical excitement. He was sure they were talking about Nikki’s new project. His girl was handling Silver Daughters finances and setting up a freelance accounting business, yet she’d still found the time to launch a women’s sexual health initiative. The Pink Party scheduled group visits to STD clinics, followed by high tea, mini golf or spa packages.

“I aim to make getting tested for STD’s a routine experience for women,”Nicolehad written on the home page of the website Tabby built her.“With proper education and the support of her peers, I hope all women can live healthy, more well-rounded lives, without the fear of being stigmatized for having sex. Shame has no role to play in a woman’s bedroom (unless she’s into that!)”

Nicole DaSilva. Sometimes he questioned how he’d ever understood the world before she came into his life. Had he really just rattled around thinking nothing could change and everything was already doomed? Scott arrived, carrying the chicken he was supposed to cook. “How’re the sausages?”

Noah shrugged. “I’m doing my best.”

“And that’s all anyone can ask. Get you a beer?”

“Yesterday.”

Scott returned with a Pale Ale and Noah gulped gratefully. He was considering the chicken—did he need to oil the hotplate? Was that a thing?—when his phone buzzed.

The back of his neck buzzed and, somehow, he knew who it was. He looked around carefully, making sure no one was in hearing distance, then turned his back and answered. “Hey, Ed.”

“G’day, Noah.”

Edgar’s voice was slow and calm. It sounded like it was vibrating on a different frequency from the plane their bodies occupied, and it probably was. “How are things?”

“I can’t talk,” Noah said. “We’re having a barbecue.”

“Ah,” Edgar said comfortably. “How are the girls?”

Noah looked at them; Sam laughing at Scott, Tabby draining the last of her cider can, Nicole fussing around with plastic cups. “About the same.”

“I doubt that.”

He was right, but Noah didn’t say so. He was already paranoid someone would notice what he was doing and ask who was on the phone. “Are you coming home?”

“Too soon to tell, mate.”

Noah rolled his eyes. “Eddie, I know I promised not to tell, but it’s almost been a fucking year.”

“But the girls are doing better without me.”

It wasn’t a question. Edgar sounded as sure as the sphinx.

“Maybe, but I know they miss you and I’m not sure how much longer I can keep this to myself. Especially now Nikki and I are…”

“In love,” Edgar said with satisfaction.

When Noah had called to let him know they were dating—five months into their relationship—Edgar hadn’t sounded the least bit surprised. In fact, if he didn’t know better, Noah would have said he’d expected it to happen.

“You should think about coming home,” he repeated, though he knew he wouldn’t sway Edgar. In his own, sea-salt-and-wind-chimes way, he was more stubborn than all three of his daughters.

“We’ll see,” his former mentor said with clockwork predictability. “Take care of them for me, won’t you?”

“I’ll do my best, but you should write to them again. And maybe something less fucking cryptic this time?”

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