Daniel turned, shocked.
“I’ll get it!” Before Coralie could stop her, Zora accepted the call and propped the phone against a wineglass.
Roger, no greeting, peremptory: “What’s that you’re doing?”
“Hi, Dad. This is Max.” Coralie shrugged. “You know!”
“Big unit, isn’t he? Rugby guy. He gets that from our side.”
“My father was tall, actually,” Anne said.
“Who’s that?”
Anne picked up the phone and scrutinized it.
“Oh, you must be Adam’s dad,” Roger said. “Hello, mate.”
“Adam’s mother.” Anne was amused. “Anne Whiteman.”
“No offense intended! It’s a compliment being mistaken for a man!”
“What’s your background there, Roger? Trees?”
“Yes, it’s my walk. I’m on the bush track. Here in Canberra. Look, Princess loves it.”
Coralie, who had buried her face in the baby, took a cautiousglance at the phone. A ratty creature was prancing along; its tail, a long plume, swayed from side to side.
“What a funny little dog,” Anne said. “A Chihuahua or something?”
“Pomchi. Pomeranian Chihuahua cross. A ladies’ dog, she was Jenny’s—but now she prefers me. Routine. A firm hand. Dogs are like children. They like to know who’s boss.”
Zora, who had paused in the doorway, looked horrified and escaped.
“Hi, Roger,” Adam called over his shoulder from the sink. Anne held out the phone so Roger could see him.
“The man himself!” Roger said. “I’ve been reading your stuff. Merry Christmas to you, mate.”
“Merry Christmas toyou, mate.”
“And who’s that next to you with the ponytail?”
Daniel turned around slowly. Anne was still holding the phone up. There was no escape. “Hi, Dad.”
“Good grief, Daniel. That’s new!”
“Oh, it’s…good in the kitchen. For my work. When I cook.”
“And how’s that going over there?”
As far as Coralie knew, Daniel hadn’t worked in a professional kitchen since the day he’d married Barbie. “Great,” Daniel said. “Thanks!”
“Isn’t itawfulabout the fires?” Anne enunciated very clearly as she replaced the phone on the table.
“Awful!”
“That’s climate change for you,” Anne said.
Coralie’s shoulders touched her ears.
