Nancy’s mouth curled upwards. ‘You think that’s ever stopped a bigot? Legislation is just one step in the struggle. But that’s exactly why I’ve brought you this.’ She nodded at the letter. ‘I loved Gran. More than that. She gave me . . . I’m not sure how to put it into words. Gran made me know who I was. All that time in the prison camp I knew I was part of my country. As long as Overflow was still there, I had the strength of it, and no matter how bad things got I could hold on to that. I just had to get home and I’d be whole again. Every time I felt I couldn’t go on, somehow I’d think of the river curling in the sandbanks or the tussocks in the channels or Gran with her ear to the ground, hunting for a native beehive, and their strength would seep into me.’

‘So you want her story to be told?’

‘No. It’s mine and Overflow’s. But I think it needs to be told.’ Nancy gave a brief flash of a smile. ‘For everyone who has ever had a woman like Gran in their lives. And those who didn’t and so need it all the more.’

‘Thank you,’ said Jed quietly. ‘That’s a lot of trust.’

Nancy grinned. ‘Don’t let it go to your head. I don’t happen to know any other writers, except Flinty, and she doesn’t write your kind of book. Flinty’s always been better with horses than people. The doc’s got her on some new arthritis stuff, by the way. She says she could do the Highland fling again now.’

‘Has she ever done the Highland fling?’

‘Don’t think so.’

‘Good.’ Jed reached for a pink-topped bun.

‘Hey, Mum!’ Mattie looked in, all scratched legs and flying hair. ‘The solar oven worked. Sort of.’

‘What’s “sort of” mean?’

‘The sausages turned into charcoal,’ said Mattie cheerfully. ‘But Dad says he just needs to adjust the direction of the disc. Clancy took a photo of his face when he saw the black sausages. Hi, Auntie Nancy!’

‘Happy birthday, Mattie.’ Nancy grinned. ‘Sorry I didn’t bring your present. It’s still cropping grass up at Rock Farm.’

‘Eating grass? A pony! You got me a pony!’

‘One of your Aunt Felicity’s patients. He had a bad cut on his leg, but he’s almost right now. We can drive the horse float up tomorrow.’

‘Oh, wow! Thank you!’ A flying tackle of a hug — that girl would be better in a scrum than any kid in Gibber’s Creek, if girls were ever allowed to play football — and she raced out the door. ‘Clancy! Daddy! Guess what? I’m getting a pony!’

Jed gazed after her, smiling. ‘This will be the best birthday of her life.’