13Vince woke the next morning in a cold sweat, chest tight and palpitating. It took several minutes for him to engage with reality.
It had been after four o’clock by the time he’d gotten to bed. Then his hyper-aroused nervous system had kept him awake for a further hour. High forceps rotation—big risk and no safety net. Dodged a bullet.
When he had dropped off, he was revisited by an old nightmare, a re-run of the funerals of a young woman and her baby back in Melbourne three years ago.
He rolled out of bed, put the kettle on, and opened the back door. Deefer bounded up, seeking both food and company. Vince gave her a pat and a tickle and filled up her bowl, then looked out at the day. It was sunny—blue sky and very still.
‘Great day for a surf, mate.’
Deefer kept on munching, and Vin
