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I’m sorry.’
    She could not believe him. He was upset by the scene with his stupid family. He would calm down, if she helped him. She stroked his greasy hair, wishing she could wash it for him. ‘How long do we have then?’
    He looked up at her. ‘You still want to be with me?’
    ‘Duh.’ She forced a smile.
    ‘I leave in a month.’
    A month was long enough for him to change his mind. More than enough. Sarah held her hope inside. She nodded bravely. ‘Okay. So let’s not waste it with fighting and crying.’
    He sobbed and buried his face in her lap again, this time pushing her skirt up first. His stubble scratched her thighs and his tears wet them. ‘Thank you, Sarah, oh my Sarah, thank you.’ She stroked his head and felt strong.

7
    For all of August, Sarah remained sure that Mr Carr would stay in Sydney. Their afternoon trysts were more passionate than ever, and many, many times he told her they would be together forever. It wasn’t a question of believing him or not: she felt the truth of it deep, deep inside her. Being with him was like breathing, and everything else was like running under water.
    Jamie said she was deluded, but he was too jealous to be objective. Besides, he didn’t know Mr Carr the way she did. He didn’t understand that what Mr Carr said to the class, to his family, to the principal, was just what he had to say to get by. They were public words that went with his public face and his public personality. Only Sarah saw his true self and heard his true thoughts, so only she could know that nothing in the world would keep him away from her.
    And then on the last day of school, there was an assembly and he was presented with a farewell gift – a leather briefcase with his initials engraved in the handles – and he made a speech in which he named the school he would be teaching in and the Brisbane suburb where it was located and it all seemed so
concrete
. For the first time she thought that Jamie might be right. Maybe the reason Mr Carr never talked about any of the details of his move was that it would upset her and therefore ruin their time together. ‘Stop you from putting out,’ was what Jamie said.
    But then Mr Carr told her he had a surprise for her, and she felt stupid for doubting him. The surprise wouldn’t be a surprise at all; it would be the announcement that he was only leaving the school,not the state. It would be the declaration that of course he could never leave her.
    ‘Tomorrow morning,’ he said, squeezing her hands so hard she had to concentrate to stop from wincing. ‘I’ll pick you up at the top of your street at eight.’
    ‘I get to see you on a Saturday?’ Sarah kissed him. ‘That is a treat. Where are we going? What should I wear?’
    ‘Where we’re going is the surprise. Wear something pretty. And tell your Mum not to expect you back until late.’
    The early morning of Saturday, August 28, 1995 was cold enough to call for jeans, but he had told Sarah to wear something pretty and so she put on a white cotton sundress with butterflies embroidered on the bodice and hem. Mr Carr loved it; he kissed all of the little butterflies and gave her his leather jacket to wear in the car. He didn’t talk while he drove. The radio was on – some adult contemporary easy listening station – and he hummed along to the songs, glancing over to Sarah with a smile every so often.
    The drive was short. ‘Surprise,’ he said, pulling up outside the Parramatta Motor Lodge.
    ‘We’re going to the motel?’
    ‘Wait here while I check in.’ He jogged across the car park, coming back after a minute with a key attached to a block of wood in his fist. ‘Come on, Sarah, time’s a wasting. Get a move on.’
    It was the first time Sarah had ever been in a motel room, but she barely noticed her surroundings. Orange curtains, a chipped mirror and a general dankness were the only lasting memories of the room itself. As soon as she had stepped inside, he ordered her to