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I immediately checked my face in the rear-view mirror, expecting to see molten skin. I could feel it burning, but in the mirror everything looked normal. I sat in the car for thirty minutes in a state of terror and panic but gradually realized that the burning sensation was what my mind had told me to expect. There was no feeling there at all. I pinched my skin to see if it had somehow been numbed by her touch, but I felt the pinch. Her bare hand on my face had no effect whatsoever. I could scarcely believe it.

I drove to the city centre, my mind such a jumble of confusion that, on arrival, I couldn’t recall where I was. I parked on a side street and took off my hat and my gloves, even though it was cold. I left them in the car. I walked down a busy street and into Whitcoulls bookshop. The man behind the counter looked up and smiled at me. ‘Hello there!’ he said. I couldn’t speak. I went to the Ngaio Marsh shelves and picked one out for Lindy, then turned to the counter. The man asked, ‘Getting cold out there?’ I shook my head, still unable to speak, and reached out a trembling hand containing a twenty-dollar bill. He took the note from my hand without touching me and turned to the cash register. When he passed me the change, he placed it into my open palm, again without touching my hand. I pocketed the change and then took his hand in mine and shook it.

‘Thank you very much,’ I said.

He seemed surprised and, as tears began to fall down my cheeks, he held me by the shoulder. ‘Are you okay, sonny? Did something happen?’ My hand tingled from the touch, but there was no burning, no discolouration, just the warm impression that was left behind by this man’s hand. I wanted to bury my head in this stranger’s shoulder but I turned and left the shop.

I drove back to Rotorua, my anger surging as I accelerated. I arrived in town just as it was time to collect Dad from the dental office.

He waved from the window and came out, locking the door behind him. He sat in the passenger seat and threw his briefcase into the back. I took off before he had fastened his seat belt.

‘What’s the rush?’ he said.

‘Tell me again about necrotic hominoid contagion,’ I said, trying to keep the ice out of my voice.

‘Funny you should mention that. I rang an immunologist in Melbourne today to see if there were any updates. I’m afraid there’s no treatment on the horizon, but I suppose you’re used to it now, Steve.’

‘Yeah? What was the immunologist’s name? I might want to talk to him myself.’

‘I think it’s best if you leave the medical end of things to me.’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Dr Sean Kelly.’

‘An Irish name. Interesting. And what hospital does he work in?’

‘St Charles.’

‘Right. And is that a general hospital or one that specializes in immune diseases?’

He stroked his beard, and as I glanced at him, I saw he looked me straight in the eye. ‘It’s a specialist hospital. All the funding now is going into the research of this new gay disease, AIDS.’

There was no hesitation at all, but then Dad was an expert at lying.

‘And exactly when was I diagnosed? I mean, if I was born in that annexe, how did you know I had it?’

‘Has that little bitch –’

I took my eyes off the road and stared at him. ‘Don’t call her that.’

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake, Steve, you can’t believe anything Lindy Weston says to you. She’s one of them.’

‘I don’t have any disease, you lied to me about that as well.’

‘Well, if you want to take the risk –’

‘What about Rangi? I was three feet away from him. I could have easily pulled him back to shore, but to save myself, I let him drown.’

‘He was a half-breed and a bad influence. He had you drinking beer at your –’

‘He was smart and kind. He was my friend!’ I couldn’t help shouting.

‘Watch the road!’

We had veered off the back road that led up to our house on a slow-rising hill. I tried to correct the steering, but I overdid it and we were on the other side of the road, headed for a steep drop. I panicked and hit the accelerator pedal instead of the brake. The engine screamed for what seemed like a full minute and then we hit fresh air. I’ll never forget the noise as we rolled over and over. Later, the police said that we’d only dropped fifteen feet, but it felt like rolling down a vertical cliff, hitting every boulder on the way, my head ricocheting between the roof of the car and the windscreen until the glass smashed.