"Who are you staying with up in Sydney?" Matt asked Rona when he was around on Monday night. "Your mum or your dad?"

"Mum" Rona told him. "Dad's still weak." She stopped as she reflected on the way she said this, that made him sound like he was going to get better soon, like he just had the 'flu. The fact was that she didn't know if he'd ever be what he had been when she was young; she didn't expect that he would. But to Matt she just said: "I don't wanna get in the way, with dad and his girlfriend. His partner I mean."

Matt nodded as he took this in. "What does your family do at Christmas?" he asked.

"Dinner at mum's or at dad's. Usually dad's 'cause that way mum can't get all territorial. Around dad's girlfriend, I mean. You know, if it was in her house then she'd want to do everything, and dad's girlfriend would feel awkward helping out in the kitchen, and it'd all get stressed and everyone would start stressing . . ."

"How many times did that happen?" Matt laughed, recognising that Rona had stopped talking hypothetically.

"A few times" Rona said. "'Til my aunt stepped in and told everyone to calm down. We had Christmas at her house once but that didn't go well."

"More stress?"

"Not really, it's just that my aunt doesn't have an oven."

"Oh."

"She tried microwaving the turkey."

"Oh."

"But a turkey doesn't really fit in a microwave."

"Yeah."

"So now we do it at dad's place. Well I mean they do, I haven't been up there for Christmas in a while 'cause I couldn't afford it."

"I'm going to miss you" Matt said.

"You're just saying that" Rona replied, and it wasn't the words that hurt Matt but the way she said them: flatly, without any emotion. Matter-of-fact.