‘Ranger Tilly,’ she replied. ‘Isn’t it a beautiful day? If you’d just step up to the office, we’ll get you signed in.’ She could see Elaine hovering at the door and waved her off. ‘It’s okay, I’ve got it.’ She’d make Connor something special for dessert and maybe the two of them could sneak off after dinner while the others were washing up? Her heart sang at the prospect as she turned another blinding smile on the customer before her. ‘Sorry, what did you say your name was again?’

Matt was the first to get home, arriving mid-afternoon. He had a cup of tea in the kitchen while complaining of a puncture, then put on a load of washing; they all did their own now that Tilly no longer house-kept. Later she heard a repetitive banging in the shed, deducing from it that he was repairing the tyre. Sophie and Luke came back in the last glow of daylight, when the dust of their travel hung in an amber haze behind them and the river glimpses shone dully like wrinkled pewter. The camp was full again and between Elaine’s arrival and the general excitement over the Sandstone project, they had completely forgotten the weekly slideshow and talk.

She reminded Luke as he came up the steps between the now-blooming tubs of marigolds that Connor had helped her fence in.

‘Have to be tomorrow night then.’ He yawned widely, dusting his hat against his jeans. ‘We’ve got the plans just about sorted, so that’ll work.’ He sniffed eagerly at the aromas from the kitchen. ‘Boy, that smells good! I could eat a horse, saddle and all. What is it?’

‘Ask Mum. I hope you’re showering before we sit down. I can smell the dust on you from here, and you look like you’ve waded in mud.’

Luke sniffed ostentatiously at himself, then leant towards her. ‘Probably because I have. Is that perfume? You’re looking mighty bright-eyed, Tilly. What’s going on?’

‘We have a guest for dinner and Mum wanted to make an occasion of it,’ she lied shamelessly. ‘She loves entertaining.’

‘A guest? Who?’

‘Connor.’ She flushed as she met his gaze and he smirked.

‘Oh. Like that, is it? Nice shirt thingy.’

It was a good one that she’d last worn in a bistro in Darwin, having lunch with Gerry, and actually not a shirt at all but a soft blouse with a tie neck, in shades of blue and cream. She had left her hair down, curling inwards on her shoulders, for it was months since it was last cut, and added the faintest trace of pink to her lips. Nothing over the top, she had told herself, but Luke plainly wasn’t fooled by her attempt at casualness.

‘I can get out of working clothes sometimes.’ She let her irritation show, but he simply grinned annoyingly.