“The family thing.”
“We are all family.”
“No, we’re not. Not like that. Whatever you do or don’t do. Why can’t you—”
“Hey. Watch it, thanks. Don’t speak to me like—”
“Okay, fine. Sorry. But you really need to stop.”
“Stop what?”
“You know what. This. About Mum. Look, I’ve got to go. Okay? My friends are waiting for me.”
“Zara—”
“Tell Mum I’ll talk to her tomorrow.”
Falk had washed and dried his hands and walked outside. He’d half expected to see Charlie making conversation with Rohan, but neither man was there. The spot where the stroller had been parked was empty, except for a splattering of ice cream drips in the dust. Falk had leaned against the wall and waited, and a minute later Rita came out of the parents’ cubicle.
“All good?” she’d said, and Falk had nodded and together they’d headed back to find Raco and Eva.
In the Racos’ kitchen a year on, Rita was fiddling with her coffee mug.
“And I knew she was upset about Charlie and Zara not being at home that night, and it still didn’t cross my mind to go in and talk to her. Just make that effort. I was so focused on myself and what was easiest—”
“You had a baby to cope with,” Naomi said.
“Yeah, but so did Kim. That’s even worse, because I knew how hard it was, and I still did nothing. And then afterward, you remember how the next day or so someone reported that they’d heard a woman crying in the toilets—”
“That was a lot later in the evening,” Raco interjected. “And it’s a wine festival. There’s always someone crying in the toilets.”
Naomi gave a small smile. “He’s right. And look, we all have our own guilt about this. I’m not even talking about”—her eyes flicked up to Raco, then down again—“the reservoir stuff. I’m talking recently. I mean, do you know how long it’d been since I’d spoken to Kim? It was more than a year, I worked out later. And I hadn’t seen her properly since her wedding. I called a couple of times when the baby was born, didn’t get through. I didn’t keep trying, though, just sent her a gift and left it at that.” Naomi sighed. “So yeah, Rita, we all have things we wish we’d done differently.”
“Like what?”
They all looked up at the voice from the doorway. Zara was watching them. Falk hadn’t heard her approach and could see from the others’ faces that they were also wondering how long she’d been listening.
“Hi, sweetheart,” Rita said, gathering herself. “Lunch isn’t far off, but do you want something now?”
“No, thanks.” Zara’s gaze was still fixed on Naomi. “What do you wish you’d done differently?”
Naomi met her eye. “I was saying I wish I’d been a better friend to your mum.”
Zara watched her for a long moment, then: “So are you here to see my dad again?”
“What? No. I’m here for—” A flicker of something crossed Naomi’s face and she waved a hand toward Raco and Rita.
“For the christening meeting,” Rita said, frowning.
“Oh.” Zara suddenly looked drained. “Is my dad around, though?”
“He’s outside somewhere,” Raco said. “What do you need?”
“Can someone please drive me to the festival site? I’m meeting Joel.”
“Sure, I’ll do it after we’ve fed the kids.”
“I’m going to be late, he’s already down there. And I want to drop off another box of flyers at the stall.”
