be an engineer. He has to retrain but it’s so expensive to get his Australian accreditation. We’re working so hard, trying to get the money so he can do the transition course. Meanwhile, I’ve been working as a cleaner.’ She tilted her chin. ‘I work for the firm that cleans this house. My job’s good. We couldn’t believe it when we were able to rent our house. We thought...this is heaven. But Henry has to work as a fly in, fly out miner. He’ll be so worried right now and I’m scared he might have tried to get here. If he’s been caught in the fire...’
Rob rose and took her hands. She was close to collapse, weak with terror.
‘It won’t have happened,’ he said firmly, strongly, in a voice that Julie hadn’t heard before. It was a tone that said: don’t mess with me; this is the truth and you’d better believe me. ‘They put road blocks in place last night. No one was allowed in. I was the last, and I had to talk hard to be let through. If your husband had come in before the blocks were in place, then he’d be here now. He can’t have. He’ll be stuck at the block or even further down the mountain. He’ll be trying to get to you but he won’t be permitted. He’ll be safe.’
Danny was looking up at Rob as if he were the oracle on high. ‘Papa’s stuck down the mountain?’
‘I imagine he’s eating his dinner right now.’
‘Where will he eat dinner?’
‘The radio says a school has been opened at the foot of the mountains. Anyone who can’t get home will be staying at the school.’
‘Papa’s at school?’
‘Yes,’ Rob said in that same voice that brooked no argument. ‘Yes, he is. Eating dinner. Speaking of dinner...how’s it coming along?’
‘It’s brilliant,’ Julie said. ‘Michelin three star, no less.’
‘I don’t doubt it,’ Rob said, and grinned at her with the same Rob-grin that twisted her heart with pain and with pleasure. ‘Do we have enough to give some to Luka?’
‘If Luka eats spaghetti he’ll get a very red moustache,’ Julie said and Danny giggled.
And Julie smiled back at Rob—and saw the same pain and pleasure reflected in his eyes.
DANNY AND ROB chatted. It was their saving grace; otherwise their odd little dinner would have been eaten in miserable silence. Too much had happened for Julie to attempt to be social.
Amina was caught up in a pool of misery. Julie’s heart went out to her but there was little she could do to help.
She pressed her into eating, with limited success, and worried more.
‘When’s your baby due?’ she asked.
‘The twentieth of January.’ Amina motioned to Danny. ‘We were still in the refugee camp when we had Danny. This was supposed to be so different.’
‘It is different.’
‘Refugees again,’ Amina whispered. ‘But not even together.’
‘You will be soon,’ Julie said stoutly, sending a fervent prayer upward. ‘Meanwhile we have ice cream.’
‘Ice cream!’
‘It’s an unopened container, not a hint of ice on it,’ she said proudly. ‘How’s that for forethought? I must have pre-prepared, four years ago.’
There was an offer too good to refuse. They all ate ice cream and Julie was relieved to see Amina reach for seconds.
There was another carton at the base of the freezer. Maybe they could even eat ice cream for breakfast.
Breakfast... How long would they be trapped here?
‘Now can I go next door?’ Amina asked as the last of the ice cream disappeared.
Rob grimaced. ‘You’re sure you don’t want me to check and report back?’
‘I need to see.’
‘Me too,’ Danny said and his mother looked at him and nodded.
‘Danny’s seen a lot the world has thrown at us. And his father would expect him to be a man.’
Danny’s chest visibly swelled.
Kids. They were all the same. Wanting to be grown-up.
Wanting to protect their mum?
It should be the other way round. She should have been able to protect...
‘Stop it, Jules,’ Rob said in his boss-of-the-world voice, and she flinched. Stop it? How could she stop? It was as if the voices in her head were on permanent replay.
‘We need to focus on Santa,’ he told her, and his eyes sent her a message that belied his smile. ‘Moving on.’
Move on. How could she ever? But here there was no choice. Amina was looking at her and so was Danny. Even Luka... No, actually, Luka was looking at the almost empty ice cream container in her hand.
Move on.
‘Right,’ she said and lowered the ice cream to possibly its most appreciative consumer. ‘Danny, you’re going to have to wash your dog’s face. Spaghetti followed by chocolate ice cream is not a good look. Meanwhile, I’ll see if I can find you some sturdy shoes, Amina, and I have a jogging suit that might fit over your bump. It’s not the most gorgeous outfit you might like but it’s sensible, and Sensible R Us. Let’s get the end of this meal cleared up and then go see if the fire’s left anything of your house.’
* * *
It hadn’t left a thing.
A twisted, gnarled washing line. The skeleton of a washing machine. A mass of smouldering timbers and smashed tiles.
Amina stood weeping. Julie held her and Danny’s hands as Rob, in his big boots, stomped over the ruins searching for... Anything.
Nothing.
He came back to them at last, his face bleak. ‘Amina, I’m sorry.’
‘We didn’t have much,’ Amina said, faltering. ‘My sister...she was killed in the bombing. I had her photographs. That was what I most...’ She swallowed. ‘But we’ve lost so much before. I know we can face this too. As long as my Henry is safe.’
‘That’s a hell of a name for a Sri Lankan engineer,’ Rob said and Amina managed a smile.
‘My mother-in-law dreamed of her son being an Englishman.’
‘Will Australian do instead?’
‘It doesn’t matter where we are—what we have. It’s a long time since we dreamed of anything but our family being safe.’
And then she paused.
The silence after the roar of the fire had been almost eerie. The wind had dropped after the front had passed. There was still the crackle of fire, and occasionally there’d be a crash as fire-weakened timber fell, but there’d been little sound for hours.
Now they heard an engine, faint at first but growing closer.
Rob ushered his little group around Amina’s burned car, around the still burning log that lay over their joint driveways and out onto the road. Rob was carrying Danny—much to Danny’s disgust, but he had no sensible shoes. And if anyone was to carry him, it seemed okay that his hero should. Thus they stood, waiting, seeing what would emerge out of the smoky haze.
And when it came, inevitably, magically but far too late, it was a fire engine. Big, red, gorgeous.
Julie hadn’t realised how tense she’d been until she saw the red of the engine, until she saw the smoke-blackened firefighters in their stained