‘So do you think adopted children are all subconsciously yearning for their real mothers?’

Grace looks far too involved in this conversation. It’s so strange the way one minute she’s distant and the next she’s practically interrogating Sophie. Oh, God, was Grace adopted? Has Sophie insulted her by implying she is psychologically damaged?

‘No, I didn’t mean that. I don’t know what I meant. I don’t really know anything about babies.’

Grace tucks in a corner of the mattress in the crib and doesn’t look at Sophie. ‘Would you like to have one?’

Gosh. Here comes the job interview again.

‘Yes. Very much. But I can’t seem to find a man to have one with and my biological clock is ticking very nervously. I’m thirty-nine. I might have to accept I’m probably going to miss the baby boat.’

Blab, blab. Reveal your deepest fears, why don’t you? And meanwhile Grace won’t even tell you how she feels about the WEATHER.

‘But you must have lots of men interested in you.’

‘Well, thank you, but no, not really.’ Your husband’s hand brushed against mine the other night. Does that count? ‘I seem to have been going through a very long dating dry-spell. Although of course, I told you, I’ve been asked on dates by two separate men in the last few weeks.’

Grace looks at her sharply, almost angrily. ‘You didn’t tell me that!’

‘Didn’t I? I know I told Callum. You mustn’t have been there.’

She waits for Grace to do the obligatory flutter of female excitement but she just looks irritated. ‘Are you interested in either of them?’

‘It’s too early to tell.’

‘Well, that’s just great.’

‘I’m sorry?’ Sophie stares in bewilderment at Grace, who has begun massaging her forehead with her fingertips. ‘What’s just great?’

Grace looks up. ‘Sorry. I keep getting these horrendous headaches and I can feel another one coming on. Do you mind if we finish this another day?’

‘Of course not. You poor thing. You must get home and lie down.’

As they are locking up the house, Grace says urgently, ‘I’ll talk to you soon, OK?’

Sophie watches Grace walk off down the hill, her hands jammed in the pockets of her fleece, her shoulders slumped.

It must be a very bad headache.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that Sophie has two men after her?’

Callum glances briefly up at Grace from his newspaper with unfocused eyes, all his attention still on whatever he’s been reading. ‘I don’t know. I guess I thought you already knew.’

‘I didn’t.’

‘Well, now you do.’

He’s reading again. Grace feels a surge of teeth-grinding irritation. The stupid man is going to let her slip through his fingers!

‘I don’t think either of them is very well suited to her,’ she says. ‘Actually, I think you’d be a better match.’

Callum chuckles and turns the page of his paper. ‘Pity for her I’m taken.’

Grace digs her nails into the palms of her hands. This isn’t working. He doesn’t even sound that interested! She’s going to have to plant the idea in his mind. ‘Actually, I think she really likes you.’

‘As a friend.’

‘No, she like-likes you. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.’

Callum looks up properly now. ‘What is this? You’re not seriously worried about Sophie, are you?’

Retreat, retreat! He’s so bloody principled, if she acts jealous he won’t have anything more to do with Sophie. She just needs him to feel flattered. ‘Of course not. I’m just saying that if you were single I think she’d be after you.’

‘Well, I’m not single and I don’t want to be single ever again, thanks. I hated being single.’ The expression on his face is so guileless and genuine that Grace has to look away, embarrassed by his naked, sooky niceness.

He says, ‘Are you OK, honey? Is everything OK? You don’t seem yourself.’

‘No, you just don’t want this to be myself.’

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘This is myself. You’ve always had some idea of me that doesn’t exist.’ As she says this she feels that it is, in fact, true. He has refused to see her true ugliness. It’s exhausting and not very fair having to pretend all the time.

Callum carefully folds the newspaper and runs his thumb along the crease. ‘What do you mean, Grace?’

‘You just see what you want to see.’ She lets her cheeks and her mouth be dragged downwards into the face of a sad clown. Let him see.

‘I don’t know what you’re accusing me of. I don’t even know what we’re talking about.’ There is just the slightest tremor in his voice.

‘You don’t know me.’

‘Oh for Christ’s sake, Grace, you’re my wife. You’re the mother of my child!’

‘No need to get dramatic. You said I don’t seem myself, and I’m telling you, this is myself. Take it or leave it.’

He flinches as if she’s slapped him. His eyes are watery and frightened.

Grace leaves the room, her legs trembling.

38

Join us for a night of intrigue and illumination! The Anniversary of the Mysterious Disappearance of Alice and Jack Munro in 1932 is one of the most exciting events on the Scribbly Gum Island calendar. It’s the one night of the year when non-island residents are allowed to stay on the island after sunset. The main street of the island is lined with food stalls, lit by hundreds of glittering fairy lights and warmed by giant heaters. (But please do rug up, as it can be chilly!) The theme of the night is MYSTERY! There will be MYSTERY LUCKY DIPS, MYSTERY PRIZES and MYSTERIOUS ENTERTAINMENT, such as magicians, dancers, fire breathers and tarot-card readers! Meet some of the people involved in the Alice and Jack Mystery–like ROSE DOUGHTY, one of the two sisters who first discovered the abandoned home, and ENIGMA McNABB, the baby (now a Grandma!) who was found in such mysterious circumstances! FREE FACE PAINTING FOR EVERY GUEST!

HURRY! LIMITED TICKETS AVAILABLE! Only $75 (including GST) a head. SPECIAL NOTE: THE ISLAND GETS VERY COLD AT THIS TIME OF YEAR! WE RECOMMEND WARM WOOLLY HATS COVERING YOUR EARS, AND GLOVES AND SCARVES. PLEASE TAKE CARE TO DRESS YOUR LITTLIES VERY WARMLY!!!