The department of child welfare was crammed into the top corner of one of the city's buildings. Hawke's nose wrinkled as he made his way through an endless succession of stark pale green corridors on his way to the interview room; the air stank of sweat, photocopier ink and moulding paper. He finally found the right place and knocked briskly on the wooden door. He took a deep breath and stepped into the room at the summons to enter.

His first impression was that the room was bare; its starkness accentuated by the artificial light. The walls were the same pale green as the corridor, marked and scuffed in places. A single rectangular table stood in the centre of the room with three green plastic chairs arranged around it; Mrs Taylor occupied one. The short, round woman reminded Hawke of a fat brown sparrow; non-descript brown hair, brown eyes behind brown glasses – even her outfit was a bland beige. He took the seat she indicated and rested a hand on the table edge.

'Thank you for coming, Mr Hawke.' Mrs Taylor looked up from the notes she had been reading and uncapped her pen writing in her ubiquitous notebook. 'I wanted to speak to you about the events of Saturday evening.' She paused and looked at Hawke expectantly; it was usual for people to jump in with explanations. Hawke remained silent.

Mrs Taylor frowned. 'Your nephew was found alone and without supervision at a nightclub by the police. Perhaps you could start by explaining how the situation arose.'

'As you know Le's aunt died trying to find her sister, Le's mother. Le was trying to continue the search.' Hawke gestured. 'He sneaked away from his friend's house where he was due to spend the evening in order to do it.'

'Why was Le at his friend's house and not with you?' Mrs Taylor said making another note.

'He asked for permission to spend the day and night at his friend's, primarily so he and Billy, his friend, could play a new computer game that Billy has just been bought.' Hawke shrugged. 'I gave permission and dropped him off on Saturday morning.'

'Did you have any indication that Le was planning to do this?'

'Of course not.' Hawke replied.

Mrs Taylor set her pen down. 'How would you describe the state of your relationship with Le before the incident?'

Hawke met her inquiring eyes. 'I missed Le's school play on Friday because of work commitments. He was annoyed at me.'

Mrs Taylor blinked at the honesty. 'I see. You're still staying with Ms O'Shaunessy I believe?'

'Yes.'

'How is the search for your own house progressing?'

'I…er…well I've struggled to find something suitable.' Hawke finally said.

Her brown eyes narrowed on him. 'Have you actually begun to look?'

'Yes.' Hawke said with a large amount of relief. 'We spent most of the weekend looking at houses.'

'Hmmm.' Mrs Taylor made another note. 'And what about finding adequate child care facilities?'

'If I'm not around either Caitlin or my friend Dominic Santini looks after Le.'

'And how often are you not around?' Mrs Taylor looked up and pinned him with a frank stare.

Hawke was unsure what to say and retreated into silence.

'Shall I tell you, Mr Hawke?' Mrs Taylor turned a page in her notebook. 'I have called you every day for five days and found you that you have been unavailable on your work and home contact numbers.'

'My work keeps me busy.' Hawke said defensively.

'That would be your job at Santini Air.' Mrs Taylor made another note.

'Yes.'

'And you believe you don't need child care?' Mrs Taylor continued.

Hawke sighed. 'As I've said Caitlin or Dominic take care of Le in my absence.'

'I see.' Mrs Taylor scribbled something in her notebook. 'I've generally spoken with Ms O'Shaunessy when I've called. Is it fair to say that she's been the primary care-giver?'

'Yes.' Hawke said. He frowned and corrected himself. 'That is when I haven't been around Caitlin has acted as primary care-giver.' He couldn't remember a time when he'd felt more backed into a corner. He would have preferred to be in the cockpit of a chopper dealing with an in-flight emergency.

'And you maintain that your relationship with her is platonic?' Mrs Taylor looked up at him again, her expression bland.

Hawke flushed with anger and his eyes flashed dangerously. 'I find that question insulting.'

Mrs Taylor sighed. 'Let me be frank with you Mr Hawke. I admire your intent in offering to take in Le when his aunt died. It was a generous act of kindness.'

'But?' bit out Hawke.

'But I don't think you truly considered what you were getting into.' Mrs Taylor completed. 'In the last four weeks, you've made only minimal changes to your life. Whilst you continue to have temporary lodgings with a single female,' she held up a hand to forestall any comment, 'and work long hours, it cannot be said that you provide a stable environment in which to raise Le.' She continued ignoring the anger in the blue eyes fixed upon her. 'Further, and unsurprisingly, your relationship with Le is deteriorating.' She tapped her notebook with her pen. 'It is therefore unlikely that any court will award you permanent custody even without this latest incident at the nightclub especially as single fathers are not favoured even when there is a direct paternal link and you have, at best, a tenuous familial link to Le. Your own lawyer must have made that clear to you.'

Hawke frowned; his lawyer had laid it out and he'd ignored him. He cleared his throat. 'Are you saying you're recommending to the court that my custody of Le is revoked?'

Mrs Taylor sighed and pushed her glasses up her nose. 'Not at the present time but I warn you Mr Hawke, I'm going to need to see major changes over the next few weeks to be convinced that such a course of action is not required.'

Hawke swallowed the angry words that sprang to his lips.

She flipped through her diary. 'I'll see you again in two weeks to check on progress. I'd like you to bring Le.' She removed her glasses and pinned him with another piercing look. 'I expect at that point you will have signed a lease on a property for you and Le to live in and for you to have demonstrated that you are more available to Le.'

Hawke nodded. 'I'll be here.'

'Good.' Mrs Taylor replaced her glasses and made the appointment in her diary as Hawke stood. 'You know it's a shame you and Ms O'Shaunessy are not involved because I find her to be a very capable young woman and I'm sure the courts would look more favourably on your petition for custody if there was a prospect of an imminent union.'

'Union?' Hawke repeated blankly.

'Marriage, Mr Hawke.' Mrs Taylor sighed and looked up at him. 'If you could offer Le a more traditional environment it would certainly improve your chances of gaining permanent custody.'

Hawke retreated into silence again. Truthfully he had no idea what to say.

'I'll see you in two weeks.' Mrs Taylor concluded closing her notebook.

Hawke nodded and decided retreat was the better strategy. His palms were sweating by the time he got of the building and he stopped to take a deep breath of air. He had two weeks to turn things around and he was running out of options, he realised. He glanced at his watch; he was due back at the airfield. Hawke headed for his bike; there was somewhere else he had to go.