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He’s tall and automatically ducks beneath the lowish lintel as he goes into the living room. “Evening, Mr. Winter,” he says, as Dad rises from his chair.

“For God’s sake, I wish everyone would call me Rudolph.” Dad shakes his hand. “How are you, Ollie?”

“Yeah, good thanks. Thank fuck it’s Friday and all that. I mean… sorry.”

Dad just chuckles. “I was just about to have a whisky. You want one?”

Ollie groans. “I’d love one.”

Dad goes over to the liquor cabinet, retrieves three tumblers, and goes into the kitchen to get some ice.

Footsteps sound on the stairs, and then Mitch appears, also ducking beneath the lintel. I’d forgotten how tall he was. “Hello,” he says, surprised to see someone else in the room. His face breaks into a smile as he realises who it is. “Ollie!”

“Long time no see, bro.” The two of them exchange a big bear hug while I watch with a smile. They were also friends at school.

“Didn’t realise you were back here,” Mitch says when they move back. “Last I heard you’d finished your veterinary studies and were working in Auckland.”

“Yeah.” Ollie glances at me. My smile fades, and I reach out and touch his arm. He clears his throat. “We had a death in the family, and I decided to move back up here.”

“A death?”

“My brother.”

Mitch looks aghast. “Dan? Jesus, what happened?”

“Boating accident.”

Dad comes back into the room and goes over to the liquor cabinet to pour some whisky into the glasses. Ollie sits on the sofa next to me.

Mitch sits opposite in an armchair. “He was only, what? Twenty-six?”

“Twenty-five.” Ollie’s lips twist. “My parents took it very hard.”

Mitch’s brow wrinkles in sympathy. “I’m so very sorry.”

Ollie blows out a breath, then smiles as Dad gestures at the glass. “On the rocks is fine.”

“A splash of water for me,” Mitch says. Dad adds some from a bottle, then brings the glasses over to the boys. I hold up a hand—I still have some wine left, and there’s no way I’m drinking his Islay malt that smells like medicine.

“When was this?” Mitch asks.

“Back in April,” Ollie replies. “I came back up here in May and got a temporary job at Noah’s Ark.” It’s a big animal sanctuary and veterinary service across the bay. “I worked there for a month, and then I heard that the small vet service here had closed because the owner had moved away. I told Noah that I’m only on Evermore temporarily, but he asked if I’d help set up a satellite Ark here before I go, and offered to fund the setup.”

“And your parents are glad to have you close by,” I comment.

“Yeah. It’s nice to be there for them.”

“You’re a good boy,” I say.

He chuckles. “We all try to be the best versions of ourselves, don’t we?”

“Some of us get closer than others,” I say, and the boys chuckle.

Ollie stretches out his long, tanned legs. His feet bear a touch of sand on the soles.

“You’re such a beach boy,” I tease.

He chuckles. “I know.”