‘I suppose it would help kneading dough,’ Tilly said doubtfully. Some of the stations still baked their own bread. ‘I guess people who lose bits of themselves learn to compensate, because they have to.’ As she had, she thought. But the amputation she’d suffered was invisible to the casual viewer.

‘I saw the tracks out front,’ Matt said. ‘Who was it? The closed sign’s still up for visitors.’

‘Oh, just the police.’ Hastily, to prevent him asking what they had wanted, she added, ‘I wondered, Matt – is it worth reporting the fire to them? Not that they’re going to catch anyone for it, but—’

‘What would they do?’ he scoffed. ‘The wind’s died, but driving back I never saw smoke. Probably gone out by now.’

‘I’m sure you’re right.’ Tilly collected her knife and cutting board and carried it to the sink. ‘Well, that’s the meat done. I’d best feed the chooks. Just leave your cup and plate with the rest of it, Matt. I’ll clear up when I get back.’

Luke returned at sundown. Tilly, who had been giving the joeys their evening feed, paused to hail him as he climbed out of the vehicle and stretched his long body before reaching back in for the thermos and his lunch pack. His hands and forearms were scratched and dirty, and there was a rip in one sleeve of his shirt.

‘How was the fire, Luke? Is it still going?’

‘Yeah, but it’s contained, just creeping along slowly now. I did a backburn, so there’ll just be logs and stumps alight come morning. Looks like it started behind the shoreline and spread a fair distance inland. I got there in time to burn back into it from the old track along the coast, put out a few spot fires where it’d already crossed over, and Bob’s your uncle.’ He caught up with her, slowing his long stride to keep pace. ‘What’s for dinner?’

She laughed. ‘Do you ever think of anything but food? There’s syrup pudding for dessert – how does that grab you?’

‘You’re a wonder,’ he said fervently. ‘You ought to have seen us before you came. Sophie can’t cook worth a damn and Matt and me are no better. I tell you, it’s a miracle we didn’t starve.’

Tilly rolled her eyes. ‘You didn’t look exactly malnourished as I recall. So how do you think the fire started?’

‘Oh, someone lit it. A boat had come in. There’s a stretch of sand between the mangroves where the track runs in, and they’d beached it there. The tide hadn’t washed their footprints away when I arrived. Most likely fishermen down from the islands, or maybe Indonesia – probably illegals after trepang.’