It's an afternoon of tears, and apologies and explanations. Mike makes to leave only once, but Kate mutely takes hold of his hand and pulls him back to the lounge, and all thoughts of leaving vanish.
Mostly, though, Kate doesn't cry. And it's almost as if she's cried too many tears over this, to shed any more. He can't help but admire her strength and kindness, because even in the most brutal of circumstances, all Kate seems to want to do is comfort Maddie.
"I didn't... didn't know what to do." Maddie says, over and over again. "I didn't know what he did. I swear. I..." She holds her hands over her face, as though this simple act of hiding can protect her from the horror of what has happened. Eventually, though, she looks up fearfully in Kate's direction. "I found... after you left. I haven't seen him. He... he's away and... and the girls are at friends' houses. I... I just don't know what to do."
Of course, it's so unfair that Kate has to deal with Maddie's anguish and confusion on top of everything else, another added burden, except he knows that Kate doesn't see it this way.
"I don't know what I'm going to do either." Kate admits. "I... I haven't made..."
Mike thinks about Maxine's words, and thinks about Kate's whole life being judged and questioned and needled in a court room. He'd spent time searching the internet too, from the #meetoo movement, to 'slut shaming' and secondary victimisation. Just reading these stories is enough for him to want to lock Rose away from the world, safe from harm. He can't imagine having to make that choice of reporting, when it could affect a woman's whole life.
"I'm going over to help Maddie move her stuff out and driving her to a motel." Kate informs him as she returns from saying her goodbyes to Maddie and flops onto the lounge beside him. "I mean," Kate raises her plastered hand, "Obviously more in a supporting role, but..." She trails off. Cal has gone to set the girls up for the night, and Mike has just finished cleaning up the remnants of the dinner no one but the girls ate. Kate still looks sad - after all, this is not the sort of trauma that can be fixed with a few hugs and a cup of tea (or in Kate's case, an extremely strong coffee) But she does look slightly taller, as though a weight has been lifted from her shoulders, even as she turns her gaze to the door Maddie has just left through. "After that... it just makes me think... if I'd told her sooner..." Kate looks around sadly at the dull lounge room. She's unpacked all the boxes at least, touched the place up with sentimental knick-knacks and photos, but there's no denying it's still a crappy red-brick house, the best she could afford to rent. "I took Cal away from a life with a... a woman that loved her like a mother, you know? I mean, if Cal had stayed..."
"Hey!" Mike interjects. "And deprive her of your craziness?" He leans closer. "Look, I'm obviously a man. I mean, I'm a decent looking and quite charming man-" Kate snorts as he doffs an invisible hat. "-but I am just a man. But I know what makes a mother. A... a mother is selfless. She sacrifices her wants and needs for her children. A mother gives unconditional love. They support their children, they guide them and protect them. They're a role model, a friend. They're a safe place, a sanctuary. And from what Cal told me, that's you, Kate. It's always been you. You've been Cal's mother since the day she was born, regardless of whether you... you know... cooked her personally. She's yours, Kate. You couldn't have left her. And from what I've seen of Cal, you've done an amazing job." He bumps her lightly with his shoulder.
"This... complementing thing feels weird." Kate muses, but she's smiling all the same.
"Good. 'Cause I'm done. And now I'll go back to sarcastic comments and thinly-veiled propositions." He grins. "Now why are there twenty-eight rubber ducks in your bathroom?"
And Kate can't help but smile. "Well, first off, there's twenty-nine." She grins.
The next morning, however, she realises she has no idea why she agreed to come. Of course, logically she does know. She loves Maddie, always has, despite everything that has happened. It's just that, after a sleepless night of curling up next to her sister, or else jogging around town, standing outside Maddie's place, his place, feels a little like knocking on the den of a sleeping monster.
Maybe she could just run. After all, Cal would surely come to help in an instant, as would Mike.
But no. She's done with running. Done with hiding from her fears and trying to escape and all of those things she's spent years on. She's just done. And it's with a fierce determination that she bangs on the door.
Almost immediately, there's a sound, like a chair scraping along the ground. Then hurried footsteps, and the door opens to reveal a teenage girl standing behind the flyscreen, eyes wide. "Kate?" Her voice is little more than a whisper, and Kate has a fleeting memory of a five-year-old dressed as a fairy, running through a park.
"Claire." Kate takes a step forwards to get a better look at her, mentally calculating. She must be sixteen or seventeen now, her long dark hair hiding her eyes. "I... your Mum sent-"
"You should go." Claire whispers, keeping her voice low. Her head darts over her shoulder, looking at something Kate can't see, before taking a step back, away from the door. "It's okay. We're... we're okay. I'll see you soon."
"Claire, what-" Kate calls out, and Claire freezes in the act of shutting the door. "Is Sav here? Your Mum?"
"You need to go." Claire says again, more forcefully, and there's something staged about the words, as though she's an actress trying to project her voice as loudly as she can without yelling. For a moment they both stare at each other, still separated by the flyscreen. And then she takes another step back. There's a light clicking as her thumb brushes against the wire door before she shuts the wooden one.
Kate waits a full ten seconds before reaching out and pulling the handle of the wire door, not surprised to find it unlocked. Every fibre of her being is telling her to run, to call for help, because she's not sure what's going on, but Claire looks absolutely terrified, and it's clear that something is very wrong. And Kate can only come to one solution. Patrick.
And this time, it's more than knocking on the sleeping monster's den. It's sneaking into it, praying he's not awake inside and about to strike.
And it doesn't feel like it's just her that's risking her life. This time, it feels like she's risking her life, and Bridie's mother and Cal's sister and Mike's... whatever they are.
But she can't just stand here and do nothing. So she takes a deep breath, and opens the door.
The house is like a museum of the past, of him, even though she's never set foot in this place. She can't believe how many photos he's in, hates how comfortable he seems in this house with his family. She hates the shoes ever-so-neatly left by the door, and the wide, comfortable armchair in the lounge room. She knows from Maddie that they've long since sold the pub, used their savings to buy a place here, and she can't believe that after all these years of running, they're living barely half an hour away from her.
"Maddie, don't be stupid." The voice makes the hair stick up on the back of her neck, and Kate actually freezes on the spot, just out of view of the kitchen. She knows that voice, knows him, can practically smell him already, that disgusting stench of tobacco and beer. "She's lying."
Kate closes her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of the moment wash over her. She's run into burning buildings, fought fires and collapsing buildings and sliding cars, but this... this requires a new sort of bravery. One she's not sure she has. And even though she'd known, really, from the moment she'd made that phone call to Maddie - really, from the moment she'd first seen them again in that car - that she'd have to come face to face with him once more, it doesn't make the decision any easier.
"Mum, we can just call the police. Mum!" Kate recognises Claire's terrified voice, and it's this that makes her step into view.
She's not sure what she's expecting to see but this is not it. She's expecting Maddie, maybe pummelled and on the ground, or else Claire and Sav at the mercy of a madman. But not this.
Claire is barely a metre away, Savannah throwing an arm around her and both shrunk against the kitchen cupboards. Maddie is standing in front of them both, arm outstretched. And on the other side, Patrick, squaring off like cowboys in a standoff, a silver knife glinting in Maddie's outstretched arm.
All four of them whip around as Kate enters, and even though she's shaking, she manages to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Patrick makes to step forwards, but Maddie brandishes her knife once more, and he stills, raising his hands to shoulder-height.
"You!" Patrick spits, the moment he sees Kate. "You and your fucking lies! I come home to surprise my wife and I find you've tried to poison her away from me!"
She can feel the panting breath on the back of her neck, hear his voice in her ear. It's okay, you're okay, we're fine. It'll make you feel good. It's okay. And it takes more effort than it ever has, to wrench herself back to the present.
"She told me everything!" Maddie screams, and as Kate edges further into the kitchen, she sees there's great tear tracks running down her face, hands shaking. "Everything you did."
"Maddie, bloody hell!" Patrick turns around to look at her, his foot slipping on something. Kate looks down for a second, and sees a bouquet of flowers, evidently dropped and forgotten. "You're going to listen to her? She was a little manipulator from the start! I mean, look, we wanted to help her, but you know what happened with her family. How she lied about him too."
"Yeah, she told me about that!" Maddie calls out. "And about why! She was a child! An innocent child brought into our home and you betrayed her trust. You're... you're evil, Patrick."
"You're a little bitch." Patrick spits at Kate. "Making up these stories. You're going to tear me away from my girls?" Kate throws a glance at Savannah, her arms still around her younger sister, who is sobbing hard. "Look at what you're doing to my family! And for what? Some sick twisted game?" He turns back to Maddie. "Look, Sweetheart. I promise you, she's lying. I'd never touch her. She... she was obsessed with me. But I never touched her."
"I had your baby." Kate cuts in, and, from the way Patrick's eyes widen, Kate can see that this is news to him. "You... you got me pregnant. You were my friend, my hero. And then you attacked me."
"Bullshit-"
"You filled up my drink, over and over again, and then you tried to kiss me, and when I pulled away, you pushed me onto the ground behind the bar. You grabbed a fistful of my hair and pushed my face into the ground. And you raped me. You got me pregnant. And you broke everything in me."
"I-" Patrick begins.
"I went through the office." Maddie spits. "I found photos. Photos of other women. Other girls. Girls crying, and naked. You're sick, Patrick. How many others?! How many?" She digs with her free hand in her pocket and throws a stack of polaroids on the floor. They scatter everywhere, sliding. Instinctively, they all glance down at the photographs. What Kate sees makes her stomach turn. The girls are barely teenagers. One is dressed in a teddy bear-patterned nightie. "You're going to jail! You're done! You're-" But Maddie stops, midsentence, her gaze on the photographs. Then, without warning, she lunges forwards and scoops one of the pictures up with her free hand. Still keeping the knife outstretched, she stares at the photograph, and as Kate catches a glimpse of it, she feels more ill than ever. Though the girl in the photo's eyes are squeezed shut, one hand thrown blindly over her face in an attempt to cover herself, it's clearly a younger Claire.
For a full ten seconds, there's nothing. And then, Maddie steps forwards and thrusts the picture into his chest. "Our own daughters?" She whispers.
Patrick turns a pleading eye towards the girls. "Tell her nothing happened. Girls-"
Kate has to fight the urge to be sick. How long had he been abusing them too? How many others? How many people could she have protected if she'd just spoken up before? The room starts to spin, and Kate is caught. She wants to run, run and never come back. She wants to hug Claire and Savannah and tell them how very sorry she is. Most of all, she wants to punish him for even looking at them.
"Claire," Kate says eventually, and her voice is quite flat. "Go with Sav. Call the police. They can... they can take him away." If her head wasn't spinning, she'd be surprised at how in control her voice sounds, how calm her words are, even when the very ground she's standing on feels like it's breaking. The girls look up, turning to their mother, clearly as torn as she is. "Go now!" She says, more insistently.
"Girls-" He begins, but Kate turns back to him.
"Don't!" Kate warns. "Girls, go!" They leave, still sobbing, and Kate feels her heart breaking for them. Kate stares at the spot where they'd left, before taking a shuddering breath and facing him once more. Maddie is still shaking, still holding the knife outstretched, barely thirty centimetres from him. "Maddie, it's okay. You can put the knife down." Kate tells her, taking a step closer. "Come on, Maddie. He's going to get locked away. He's going away for a long time."
"He hurt our girls." She mumbles, shaking her head dazedly. "He hurt you." Her grip on the knife tightens. "But he's never going to hurt anyone else again." And before Kate can even open her mouth to shout, she thrusts the knife into his chest.