You never made me feel—

Barb just phoned.

Alice has had a nasty fall during her gym class (she seems to spend half her life at that gym) and she’s in hospital.

I’m in a fluster.

I’ll finish this later.

“Mum?” the child spoke again, impatiently. Alice couldn’t tell if it was a boy or a girl. It was just an average kid’s voice. Breathy, rushed, a touch snuffly. Kind of adorable. She hardly ever spoke to children on the phone, except for an occasional stilted birthday chat with one of Nick’s nephews or nieces, and she was always struck by the sweetness of their kidlike voices. They seemed so much bigger and scarier and dirtier in the flesh.

Her hand was sweaty. She took a firm grip of the phone, licked her lips, and said hoarsely, “Hello?”

“Mum! It’s me!” The kid’s voice bubbled up and out of the phone, as if he or she were yelling straight in her ear. “Why did you think it would be Dad? Is he calling you from Portugal? Oh! If you speak to him, can you please tell him that the name of the Xbox game I want is Lost Planet, Extreme Condition, okay? Got it? ’Cause I think I told him the wrong name. Okay, Mum, this is pretty important, so you might need to write this down. Do you want me to talk slowly? Lost. Planet. Extreme. Condition. Anyway, where are you? We’ve got swimming and you know I hate being late because then I get stuck with the stupid paddleboard. Oh, there’s Uncle Ben! Is he taking us swimming today? Okay! Cool! Why didn’t you tell us? HI, UNCLE BEN! Okay, gotta go, see you, Mum.”

There was a scraping sound, a thud, and the sounds of children shouting in the distance. A man’s voice said, “Gidday, champ,” and then the line was cut off.

Alice dropped the phone in her lap and stared straight ahead at the open doorway. Had she just had a conversation with the Sultana?

She didn’t even know the baby’s name. They were still arguing over the names. Nick wanted “Tom”—a “good honest name for a man”—and Alice wanted “Ethan”—a sexy, successful name. Or if the Sultana surprised them by being a girl, Alice wanted “Madeline” and Nick wanted “Addison”—because apparently girls didn’t need “good honest names.”

Alice thought, I could not be mother to a child and not know his name. This is simply not possible. It is beyond the realms of possibility.

Maybe it was a wrong number! The child had mentioned an “Uncle Ben.” There was no “Ben” in Alice’s family. She didn’t know a single Ben. She wasn’t sure she’d ever even met a Ben. She searched her mind and all she could dredge up was a huge bearded neon-sign designer she’d once met while helping Nick’s older sister, Dora (possibly the flakiest of the Flakes), at her “Psychic Arts” shop, and in fact his name could just as easily have been Bill or Brad.

The problem was that the kid had asked, “Why did you think it would be Dad?” when she’d said “Nick.” Also, he knew Nick was in Portugal.

It was beyond the realms of possibility, yet, on the other hand, it seemed sort of conclusive. She closed her eyes briefly and opened them again, trying to visualize a ten-year-old son. How tall would he be? What color eyes? What color hair?

Part of her wanted to scream with the sheer terror of this situation, and part of her wanted to roar with laughter because it was so ridiculous. An impossible joke. A hilarious story she would be telling for years—“And then, I ring Nick and this woman tells me he’s in Portugal! And I’m thinking, Portugal!?”

She picked up the phone gingerly, as if it were an explosive device, and considered calling somebody else: Elisabeth? Mum? Frannie?

No. She didn’t want any more strange voices telling her things she didn’t know about the people she loved.

Her body felt weak and heavy. She would do nothing. Nothing at all. Eventually something would happen; somebody would come. The doctors would fix her head and everything would be okay. She began shoving things back into the rucksack. As she picked up the leather-bound diary, a photo fell out.

It was a photo of three children in school uniforms. It was obviously a posed shot because they were sitting in a row on a step with their elbows on their knees and their chins in their hands. There were two girls and a boy.

The boy was in the middle. He had messy white-blond hair, ears that stuck out, and a turned-up nose. He had tipped his head to one side and clenched his teeth together in a grotesque grimace that Alice knew was meant to be a smile. She knew this because she must have seen at least a hundred photos of her sister pulling an identical face. “Why do I do that?” Elisabeth would say sadly when she saw the photo.

On the boy’s left side was a girl who looked older. She was a chunky, stolid-looking girl with a long face and straight brown hair in a ponytail that had fallen over one shoulder. She was slumped forward in a way that clearly said, “I do not want to sit in this ridiculous position.” Her mouth was compressed in a straight line and she was looking grimly off to the right of the camera. She had a nasty graze on one chunky knee, and both her shoelaces were undone. There was nothing remotely familiar about her.

To the boy’s right was a little girl with blond curls bunched together in fat pigtails on either side of her head. She was smiling ecstatically with a dimple denting her cherubic cheeks. There was something stuck to both the shirt collars of her uniform; Alice held the photo up closer. They were shiny dinosaur stickers just like the one on Alice’s own shirt.

Alice turned the photo over and saw there was a typewritten label stuck to the back. It said:Children (left to right): Olivia Love (Kindergarten), Tom Love (Yr4B), Madison Love (Yr5M)

Parent: Alice Love

Number of copies ordered: 4

Alice turned the photo back over and looked again at the three children.

I have never seen you before in my life.

There was a distant buzzing sound in her ears; she could feel herself breathing short, shallow breaths, her chest rising and falling quickly as if she were at high altitude. (Oh, it was so funny! So, I’m looking at this photo, right, of three kids? And it’s my own children! And I don’t even recognize them! Hilarious!)

Another nurse Alice hadn’t seen before came into the room, glanced briefly at Alice, and picked up the clipboard at the end of her stretcher. “I’m so sorry we’re still keeping you waiting. The powers that be assure me it should only be a few more minutes and we’ll have a bed free for you. How are you feeling?”