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ground.’
    I hadn’t realised how hungry I was. I ate six of the huge prawns in quick succession, chasing Greg’s fingers around the empty bowl. He grinned and waved a prawn head at me. I stuck out my tongue at him. I think I’m a little bit in love with Greg, not that I’d ever tell anybody.
    ‘Aye aye, here she is. Princess of Whales.’
    ‘Very funny.’ My mother dumped her keys on the table and gestured to Yoshi to move down so that she could squeeze in next to me. She dropped a kiss on to my head. ‘Good day, lovey?’ She smelt of suncream and salt air.
    I shot a look at my aunt. ‘Fine.’ I bent to fondle Milly’s ears, grateful that my mother could not see the pinking in my face. My head still sang with the sight of that whale. I thought it must radiate out of me, but she was reaching for a glass and pouring herself some water.
    ‘What have you been doing?’ my mother asked.
    ‘Yeah. What have you been doing, Hannah?’ Greg winked at me.
    ‘She helped me with the beds this morning.’ Aunt Kathleen glared at him. ‘Heard you had a good afternoon.’
    ‘Not bad.’ My mother downed the water. ‘God, I’m thirsty. Did you drink enough today, Hannah? Did she drink enough, Kathleen?’ Her English accent was still pronounced, even after so many years in Australia.
    ‘She’s had plenty. How many did you see?’
    ‘She never drinks enough. Just the one. Big girl. Lobtailed half a bath of water into my bag. Look.’ She held up her cheque book, its edges frilled and warped.
    ‘Well, there’s an amateur’s mistake.’ Aunt Kathleen sighed in disgust. ‘Didn’t you have anyone out with you?’
    My mother shook her head. ‘I wanted to try out that new rudder, see how well it worked in choppier waters. The boatyard warned me it might stick.’
    ‘And you just happened on a whale,’ said Lance.
    She took another swig of water. ‘Something like that.’ Her face had closed. She had closed. It was as if the whale thing had never happened.
    For a few minutes we ate in silence, as the sun sank slowly towards the horizon. Two fishermen walked past, and raised their arms in greeting. I recognised one as Lara’s dad, but I’m not sure he saw me.
    My mother ate a piece of bread and a tiny plateful of salad, less even than I eat and I don’t like salad. Then she glanced up at Greg. ‘I heard about Suzanne .’
    ‘Half of Port Stephens has heard about Suzanne .’ Greg’s eyes were tired and he looked as if he hadn’t shaved for a week.
    ‘Yes. Well. I’m sorry.’
    ‘Sorry enough to come out with me Friday?’
    ‘Nope.’ She stood up, checked her watch, stuffed her sodden cheque book back into her bag and made for the kitchen door. ‘That rudder’s still not right. I’ve got to ring the yard before they head off. Don’t stay out without your sweater, Hannah. The wind’s getting up.’
    I watched as she strode away, pursued by the dog.
    We were silent until we heard the slam of the screen door. Then Lance leant back in his chair to gaze out at the darkening bay, where a cruiser was just visible on the far horizon. ‘Our first whale of the season, Greg’s first knockback of the season. Got a nice kind of symmetry to it, don’t you think?’
    He ducked as a piece of bread bounced off the chair behind him.

Two
     
    Kathleen
     
    The Whalechasers Museum had been housed in the old processing plant, a few hundred yards from the Silver Bay Hotel, since commercial whaling was abandoned off Port Stephens in the early 1960s. It didn’t have much to recommend it as a modern tourist attraction: the building was a great barn of a place, the floor a suspiciously darkened red-brown, wooden walls still leaching the salt that had been used on the catch. There was a shed dunny out at the back, and a fresh jug of lemon squash made up daily for the thirsty. Food, a sign observed, was available in the hotel. I’d say that the ‘facilities’, as they’re now known, are probably twice what they were when