Curiosity overcame her and she said, ‘How come we don’t patrol this area? When it was a station, didn’t the owners run stock out here? How did they manage during the round-ups without roads?’

He cast her a look of contempt. ‘You a Yank? They’re musters, not round-ups. And the country weren’t used, because there ain’t no water out here. You can think on that when you’re hoofin’ it home.’

She persevered, ignoring the comment, for any knowledge might help her in the fight for survival. ‘So why didn’t they make some? A bore, or a dam? It’s a lot of country to waste.’

‘Shut it,’ he snapped. ‘I dunno and I don’t bloody care. What’s it to you anyway?’

‘I like to know the reason for things.’ Tilly’s voice hardened. ‘For instance, why Gerry? He wasn’t a bad man. How did you drag him into all this?’

‘Not a bad man,’ Matt mocked. ‘Just weak. Gamblin’ debts piled so high a buck roo couldn’t clear ’em. And a greedy wife. You had to have the flash home, didn’t you, all the fancy stuff? You think you get boat payments, a mortgage ’n’ a couple of cars ’n’ a kid outta fishin’?’

Tilly went cold, then flashed to instant heat. ‘The house was his doing, not mine! He said we could afford it. He said—’

‘Yeah, yeah. Nothin’ the turn of another card couldn’t fix. Then he’s desperate, into the syndicates for big dough ’n’ cryin’ poor. A bit of dope, a few birds, no problem – I tell you,’ Matt said viciously, ‘he woulda killed without a blink if it’d got him outta the jam he was in.’

‘No,’ Tilly said weakly. ‘You’re lying! I know you are. He would never touch drugs.’

‘I suppose he’s too good for people smugglin’ too?’ Matt sneered. ‘You can tell that to the fishes. I doubt they’ll believe you, but.’

‘What do you mean?’ Her heart knocked unevenly and she felt sick. ‘You said back in the cave . . . What did you mean about the “boatload of reffos” being on him too? You weren’t smuggling people too?’

He gave a savage grin. ‘Ain’t smugglin’ if they never got there. Still, they paid up front ’n’ this country don’t need no more Muslims, that’s for damn sure.’

‘You’re despicable!’ The wheel pulled sharply under her hand and she straightened it. The tyre was flattening. Excellent. She’d run it for another kilometre, or until he noticed, let the rims chew the tube to pieces. Of course there’d be a spare, but changing it might give her a chance.