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They surveyed the spaces left in the shed where the homunculi had been. Kacey shook herself for the sixth time, just to be sure there wasn't any fragment of manure left anywhere about her person. The gaps on the bench seemed to stretch and grow, while the dust motes did a nervous dance around the absent jars.
"So," said Michael, after a further pause, drawing in a long breath. "Who're you gonna be on Neighbours, anyway?"
"Haven't been cast yet, have I?"
"Yeah. I know. But don't you have to be, like, someone's secret long-lost relative? Or one of them characters that go off for a holiday or an operation and when they come back they're six years older and look completely different, except nobody ever notices."
Kacey wrinkled her nose.
"So. Long lost auntie or freaky imposter?"
"I could do freaky," said Kacey. "'S'pose I could be one of those."
They fell into another silence. The spaces in front of them ate it up.
"Why Neighbours, anyway? I mean, you didn't fancy Home & Away or The Flying Doctors instead? Sons & Daughters. Or Whatsit-flippity-face the Kangaroo."
Kacey shrugged. "I just like Neighbours."
They stayed there for a few moments more in the musty shed, watching something that wasn't there; that was now buried under the warm manure in the overgrown garden of the house that wasn't really Michael's, nestled like a cuckoo's egg among the other houses in the cul-de-sac. Outside, the homunculi grew, unseen, unheard. Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.
Kacey turned to frown at Michael. "What's The Flying Doctors?"
"Trust me. You don't want to know."