“To the extent that you can do so without breaching confidentiality, tell me everything that has happened.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand.”

“I’m a barrister,” said Mary-Kate. “I specialize in defamation law.”

Chapter 24

But I have a little boy.

—Colleen Scott’s first words upon being told that

she had only a few months to live

I dreamed that Lance from the office was sitting next to my hospital bed, together with a pale, red-haired woman I didn’t know.

“No, Lance, I still haven’t watched The Wire,” I said, for my own entertainment.

“That’s OK,” he said. It wasn’t a dream. Lance really was sitting next to my bed.

“Are you in a lot of pain?” said the woman. “My cousin broke her pelvis years ago. She said the pain was worse than childbirth.”

“I haven’t experienced childbirth,” I said. Who was this woman?

“Me neither,” she said. “It’s the universal pain benchmark, isn’t it? It’s like you can’t talk about pain unless you’ve experienced childbirth. Although, apparently, passing a kidney stone is worse.”

“We should be taking her mind off the subject of pain,” said Lance.

“I was trying to show empathy,” said the woman. “I always say the wrong thing at hospital visits.” She glanced at me and said, “I’m Kate, by the way, Lance’s wife, if you can’t place me. We met at last year’s Christmas party.”

“Of course,” I said, although I wasn’t sure I could remember meeting her before. Didn’t I usually find an excuse for not going to the Christmas party?

“We just thought we’d stop by,” said Lance.

“We’re on our way to the movies,” said Kate.

There was silence. I couldn’t think of anything to say. I didn’t understand why they were visiting me.

Then I said, “What movie are you seeing?” at the same time as Lance said, “I’ve got a card from everyone at the office.”

He handed me a white envelope with my name on it.

“And chocolates.” Kate held up a box and waved a hand in front of it like a game show hostess. “And trashy magazines. Oh, and grapes. Very unoriginal.”

I tried to open the card, but I couldn’t seem to manage it, my hands were shaking too much.

“Let me do that,” said Lance gently.

“Would you like a chocolate?” said Kate.

“Maybe later,” I said.

“Do you mind if I have one?”

“Kate,” said Lance.

“Sorry,” she said.

“You can have one,” I said.

I looked at the card Lance had given me and read some of the scribbled messages.

Saskia! No need to throw yourself down the stairs just to get out of the Eastgate project! Get well SOON! Malcolm

Thinking of you, Saskia, will be in to visit soon, Lots of love Nina xx

Dear Saskia, you poor thing! Keep your spirits up! J.D. (I’ll be in with chocolate brownies on Saturday)

“Is there anything you need us to pick up for you?” said Kate, who was helping herself to a second chocolate. “I remember you saying that your family is in Tasmania, so…” She glanced briefly at Lance as if she was worried she was saying the wrong thing. Lance cleared his throat awkwardly and looked up at the blank television screen next to my bed. Kate kept talking.

“My family is in Brisbane, so I understand what it’s like, you know, other people have sisters and mothers and cousins and whatnot. Really. It’s no trouble.”

I stared at them. At Lance. He had kind, sleepy eyes and big shoulders, as if he worked out. I don’t think I’d ever properly looked at him before. I looked at his wife. She was extremely thin and flat-chested—“gamine” my mother would have called her, with very short hair and big eyes like a woodland creature. She was sitting at a strange angle on the chair, still eating my chocolates. Maybe I did remember talking to her at the Christmas party, about a holiday she’d taken to Cradle Mountain. I’d left the party early to sit outside Patrick’s house in my car. I saw him come home and carry Jack inside, asleep on his shoulder, his head lolling.

I thought of Jack again and his broken arm, and Ellen telling me that I should move away from Sydney, and what would these two nice people visiting me think if they knew what I’d done last night, what I’d been doing for the last three years, and I felt a plummeting sensation.

“It’s a shock, isn’t it, when something like this happens,” said Kate. “Your life is going along one way, and then, wham, you get thrown a curveball.” She jerked her head to demonstrate herself avoiding a curveball and half the chocolates went flying from the open box on her lap.

“Kate,” said Lance. He crouched down to pick up the chocolates.

“Oops,” said Kate.

“I’m not…” I was trying to say: You don’t understand. You think I’m a normal person like you, but I’m not.

The words dried up. It was as if my entire personality had disintegrated. I was still breathing, my heart was still beating, but I was no longer here. The brisk professional Saskia that Lance had known, and the crazy Saskia that Patrick had known, had both vanished. I had no idea what sort of person I was: funny or serious, quiet or loud. If I stopped wanting Patrick, what did I want? What was I interested in? Did I exist at all? These two odd, sweet people were looking at me as if I did exist, but my very existence seemed questionable.

“Boogie boarding,” I said suddenly.

“Oh, yes,” said Kate amiably, as if that was a perfectly normal thing to say out of the blue.

“I thought Nina said you fell down a flight of stairs.” Lance frowned. “She said you were walking in your sleep.”

I had no memory of telling Nina that, but it was logical.

“Boogie boarding is an interest of mine,” I said, and then I thought, Did I just say that out loud?

“Me too!” said Kate. “Well, not that I’ve ever actually been boogie boarding, but I’d like to try it, or, well, to be accurate, I’d really like to try proper surfing, on a proper surfboard. I’ve been meaning to have lessons.”

Lance snorted and Kate slapped him on the arm and looked at me brightly.