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risk.’
    ‘So they won’t come tonight?’
    Dave smiled and shook his head. ‘I’d be deeply surprised. The police might come, though, if we call them.’ He looked up to the ceiling, and nodded. ‘Yeah. I think we should call the cops. They’re mandatory reporters, and . . . the more reports FACS gets, the more likely they’ll actually visit the family.’
    Anna crossed to the kitchen window and slid it down. Her stomach felt oily. The guy next door would know it was them who’d called the cops, and he’d know that Anna had seen the bite mark.
    ‘Do we
really
need to call the cops?’ It was all very well for Dave to be willing to rush next door, and to call the police. He didn’t have to live next to that man.
    He stared at her. ‘I know it’s scary, Anna. But in all conscience, you can’t just sit by when you know the child next door is in trouble.’
    He was right, damn it.
    ‘Yeah. Okay, call them.’
    Dave swiped the screen of his phone. ‘What’s the address next door?’
    ‘Um . . . 72 Melford.’ She thought of the little girl’s wave as she was carried up the hall. ‘And mention the bite mark and that she was left alone.’
    He punched numbers into his phone. ‘I’ll mention it but you’re the one who has to call FACS about the bite mark. I didn’t see it.’
    ‘Make the call in the other room,’ she said. ‘Sound travels.’
    ‘Okay.’ He carried his phone and wine into the living room.
    Anna put the bread under the griller. Was it so strange to be afraid of being sucked into the scary shit next door? She closed her eyes. Her simple, quiet life had turned into a bad dream.
    After a few minutes, Dave appeared and set his phone on the table. ‘They’ll send someone around.’
    ‘This evening?’
    ‘Yep.’
    Anna gave a long exhale. She should focus on getting food made. She’d had an big glass of wine on an empty stomach. ‘Do you want some lettuce? Olives?’
    ‘No. Just lots of bread and lots of cheese.’ Dave topped up his wine. ‘Did you take a photo of the bite mark?’
    ‘Let’s go into the living room.’ She pulled the pieces of toast from the griller and slid them onto two plates. The cheese wasn’t completely melted, but it would do. ‘Can you carry this?’ She passed him a jar of olives.
    He sat beside her on the couch.
    ‘I didn’t think of taking a photo. I mean, I don’t know the child. It would have felt a bit weird . . . I should have though, shouldn’t I?’
    ‘Well, it would have been a good idea. You didn’t think of calling FACS?’
    ‘I . . . didn’t even know – still don’t know – that it was a person that bit her. An adult. It’s a big thing to call social services onto a family.’ She took a bite of toast.
    ‘Uh huh.’ He reached for the olive jar and fished one out.
    She couldn’t read his tone.
    They ate in silence. Anna thought how this little dose of reality had stripped their relationship back to bedrock. Without the gloss of sex and repartee, this was the real them. He seemed responsible and serious – which was undoubtedly how he was in court – and Anna’s failures and vacillations were shamefully on show.
    ‘What do cops do when they come to something like this?’ she asked.
    Dave licked his fingers. ‘Probably nothing. You know, assuming there’s no evidence of assault. But he’ll know that they know. He’ll know that people are listening.’
    ‘He’ll know
I’m
listening. He could come around
here
.’
    He nodded slowly. ‘Yeah. You should come and stay at my place for a while.’
    ‘Maybe.’
    She couldn’t imagine feeling comfortable at his place for more than one night. It was an old flat close to the beach, perfectly pleasant, but stacked with surfboards and books and odd bits of furniture he’d bought at garage sales, all of it lorded over by a big old ginger cat who left hair everywhere. And who would water her pot plants? Fuck that guy next door. She put down her toast; she wasn’t hungry.
    ‘The