The motel Matt had booked was just off the road, about ten kilometres out of one of the numerous tiny towns that shone in the night along the length of the Great Ocean Road and stared unwaveringly out into the Great Australian Bight. Matt and Rona stopped at the Twelve Apostles on the way, explored the coves and beaches with all the other tourists, felt the salt-rasped wind slap against their faces like a wet towel.

It was nearing dark when they got to the motel; they checked in, dropped their bags and changed their clothes (driving all day, sitting in the dusty car all day in the same clothes) and took a dip in the motel's indoor pool before they started to feel hungry. Then they drove into town and found a pizza-place where they could sit on the deck outside - cold, but it was the only table free - and listen to the distant breakers.

They ate silently, neither of them able to think of anything that needed saying. People all around them were talking their heads off. When they finished eating Matt said: "That was nice. I liked that. I've never been here before." They stayed for a couple more glasses of wine each, each of them tired and full and glad to be exactly where they were. Rona wondered idly at one point if Matt was hearing the same waves she was, if he was hearing them as if for the first time; but she ignored the thought as just a wine-thought, and didn't pursue it.

They watched the restaurant empty around them as the moon rose high into the sky and the stars spun slowly like a stone wheel. "I think they're starting to give us looks" Matt said, meaning the restaurant staff, who'd started stacking chairs onto tables around them. Rona wasn't ready to leave, but Matt was yawning and he had to drive them back along the black unlit road to the motel.

They almost hit a rabbit on the way back, it scuttered out of the coastal heath and inexplicably stopped to stare at the approaching car until Matt thought he'd have to swerve to avoid it - his father would've floored the pedal and gone straight over the top of it, "Bloody pests" he would've said - but at the last moment the rabbit dived back the way it'd come and it and the car continued untouched.

"That was close" Rona said, and Matt didn't know whether she meant a close miss, or close to hitting. The car continued bumping over the newly sealed road, its tyres on the surface sounding like a soft scream. "How tired are you?" Rona asked Matt. "Not too tired?"

"Not too tired" Matt said as they passed the sign telling them they were two kilometres from the motel.