What I say without a moment’s consideration or reference to the idea of giving the money back to keep myself alive is, ‘I’m really sorry, Elaine, but I don’t know what the mailman is talking about. I didn’t get any parcels in the mail today. Just a few bills, and a couple of farm-machinery catalogues.’ I laugh at the paltry nature of my mail.

She looks concerned. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely positive. That new mailman is bit of an idiot, though. He probably got confused.’

Elaine is confused.

‘Grant? I can’t believe that. Why would he say he dropped it here if he didn’t?’ She’s a little scary with her glamorous certitude.

‘Maybe he took it.’ It is a kind of brave, historical punt: blame the mailman. But she ignores the suggestion.

‘Do you think someone else could have got to your mailbox before you?’

‘I can’t say I pay much attention. But it’s possible. Although, why they’d want to … I mean, it’s not as if there’s ever going to be anything in my mail worth stealing.’

She doesn’t fall for the self-deprecation.

‘Grant said you get boxes all the time. Every few weeks there’s something. From overseas. And today there was one that wasn’t from overseas.’ She looks at me, and even though the look is not unpleasant, there is a steeliness in the way she says the words. She seems surprisingly close to ‘Grant’.

Elaine is relatively new to the district. Never been in farming before. Had an uncle on the land she used to visit when she was a little girl. Rode horses, collected eggs. Couldn’t get it out of her system, or so the story goes. Can’t say I’m close enough to her to have even heard it second-hand. She’s lived here three or four years. Her husband was a well-known potter, but died in an accident somewhere, on business, six months ago. A small plane crash in Africa or something. I can’t remember, but it made the news at the time. The obituary was significant, or so everyone said. I didn’t read it. Apparently, he was quite a big name as far as pottery went (even if she’s the one with the money). A ‘ceramicist’ or something, he was supposed to be. Made all kinds of kooky stuff: weird animals, huge human-like figures, funky kind of urns, and normal-looking plates, and cups and saucers.