His face softened into dreaminess. ‘She’s good, thanks. As a matter of fact, she’s coming north again as soon as her mid-year exams are finished. She and some uni mates are heading for Darwin. She’s planning to fly out on the mail plane. I thought – well, I hoped – you might put in a word with Sophie, see if she can stay in the homestead? It’d only be for a week,’ he added cajolingly.

‘Aha, now I see why you’re wiping up.’

He started to protest, then caught sight of her grin. ‘You’ll ask her then? Think she’ll agree?’

‘I don’t see why not. And if another guest should turn up, Jane can share with me. Or’—she raised her brows— ‘with you?’

‘We haven’t got that far yet,’ he admitted. ‘Anyway, I don’t think Sophie’d like it.’

‘Probably not.’

‘Thanks, Tilly.’ He blew out a breath in exaggerated relief. ‘You’re the best. I’ve been wondering too, if we ought to send the cockies back with Graeme. They’re old enough to go to a proper bird sanctuary. If we keep them here, they’ll wind up domesticated and unable to live in the wild.’

‘I guess it’s worth asking,’ she said. ‘Would it matter though if they did – become pets, I mean?’

His boyish features gathered into a frown. ‘I don’t like to see it. Especially in birds who live a long time like the parrot family. It cripples them in a way. They’re meant to live their own life, free and natural. Not dependent on man.’

‘When you put it like that . . . Look, that’s it, there’s only the pan now. It’ll take a while and I can wipe it, so your duty’s done. Thanks. Oh, and Sophie’s asked me to stay on kitchen duties until Graeme’s gone, so you’ll be doing the camp work yourself tomorrow.’

‘I see. Well, much as I dislike cleaning dunnies, I’ll do it for the sake of your meals.’

‘And because you don’t have a choice,’ she agreed affably. ‘Go write to Jane. I might drop Mum a line too – it’s time she had a letter.’

It was an hour or more after the letter was finished before a tap on the door heralded Sophie’s arrival. She came in yawning, wrapped in her dressing gown, and perched on the end of Tilly’s bed.

‘I’m bushed,’ she said, yawning again. ‘It’s been a long day, so what’s so important, Till? That was a great meal by the way.’