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scraping and echoing in the café. It was immediately filled by more people, who looked exactly like the ones who’d just left.
    Alex finally met her eyes. ‘I didn’t want to do this on the phone or by email.’
    ‘You’re such a lawyer. What, are you scared of a paper trail?’
    ‘Don’t be like that.’
    ‘I’m not interested in how you think I should act.’ Anna felt a calm settle over her. An Italian calm.
    ‘I need to organise removalists to get the rest of my things from the house. Some furniture, the mid-century Danish pieces. My law books. The second TV and DVD player.’
    Anna stilled ‘You wanted to meet me here, I’ve come all this way, cancelled my patients, to ask me about the DVD and the TV?’
    ‘They’re Bang & Olufsen.’
    Anna lifted the coffee to her lips, considered it, and then swallowed it in one gulp. The milk froth heart disappeared into a smear on the sides of the cup.
    ‘One week,’ she said, rather too loudly for Alex’s liking, given the way he nervously looked to see who might have heard. ‘You have one week to sort that out before I change the locks.’
    She rose on determined feet and hefted her handbag on to her shoulder.
    ‘Don’t get all Italian. Keep your voice down,’ he hissed under his breath.
    Anna paused for a moment, wondered how satisfying it would be to create a scene. But she decided he wasn’t worth it. She leaned over the table, planted her palms flat and glared at him. This stranger. Her husband in name only until she could do something legal about that.
    ‘One week, Alex.’

CHAPTER
6
    Joe rustled the Saturday paper and looked over the top of it at Lizzie’s neighbour, Harri Byrne. They were seated at her kitchen table, a freshly brewed pot of tea and two cups the only things between them and the general knowledge quiz.
    ‘I know you’ll get this one, Harri.’
    Harri eyed him shrewdly. The seventy-something retired politician had recently been given a new hip and now sported an even hipper attitude.
    ‘Hit me. What’s the next question?’
    ‘Name the seat Gough Whitlam held in the Federal Parliament.’
    Harri rolled her eyes. ‘You think I came down in the last shower? I campaigned for Gough. It was Werriwa in New South Wales.’
    Joe watched as Harri sipped her tea, the twinkle in her eyes giving away just how much she enjoyed this ritual. Since Joe had been back in Middle Point, with little more to do than feel sorry for himself, drink too much and stare at the ocean, they’d taken to doing the Saturday quiz together. What had started out as a friendly diversion for two people who had lived and breathed politics, was now an intellectual battle of wills. Harri gave as good as she got and Joe found out pretty quickly that he always had to bring his best game.
    ‘So, wonder boy, tell me how many times he won the seat?’
    Joe narrowed his eyes, thought about it. ‘Ten?’
    ‘Twelve,’ Harri said smugly.
    ‘Give me a break, Harri. I wasn’t even born when he was elected. Or when he was sacked.’
    Harri almost dropped her cup into its saucer and shifted stiffly in her chair. ‘Don’t get me started on that.’
    ‘Ready for the next one?’
    Harri reached for a biscuit, dipped it in her tea. ‘Not quite. So, Joe. There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you. While I do enjoy your company and I’m actually rather enjoying the rumours around the Point that you’re my toy boy, surely you have better things to do than sit around in my kitchen and drink tea.’
    Joe waited a beat before answering. Harri’s observation was shrewd and he knew he had to come up with just the right answer to fend off any further questions. He decided to go with flattery and diversion. ‘You brew a mean cuppa, Harri.’
    Harri tilted her head to one side, observing his obfuscation with a wry grin. ‘When are you going back to work, young man?’
    Joe jumped to a joke, a defence mechanism that had worked well for him since he’d been a teenager.