As she rinsed her hands at the tap, Tilly took a moment to watch the early stars pricking out against the darkening sky. A full moon was rising and the regular pulse of the diesel drowned out the cries of the flying foxes flickering dimly above the treeline along the river. Light burnt in the windows of the homestead, spilling onto the verandah, and she could hear Luke and Matt wrangling good-humouredly over something on the news. Through the kitchen window she saw Sophie setting the table. They’d all be hungry. She hurried inside to start dinner.

Chapter Six

Two days later the first of the season’s campers turned up, motoring hesitantly into the compound to pull up beside the homestead. Everyone save Tilly was out for the day. She greeted the burly-looking man in thongs and t-shirt who hooked at his slipping shorts as he got out. She could see a woman’s face in the passenger seat, and the faces of two tow-headed boys craning through the lowered window.

‘Morning,’ the traveller said, glancing around. ‘We’re looking for the camp.’ He gestured back at the way he’d come. ‘The sign said it was this way?’

‘And so it is – just another few kay down the track.’ Good-humouredly she went into her spiel. ‘You’ve got no dogs or cats hiding in there? No nets, traps or firearms? Just the kids – oh, they’re allowed.’ She smiled at the man. ‘If you’d just step into the office and sign in? It’s a safety measure – we need to keep track of who’s on the property.’ She led the way to the minuscule office at the end of the verandah, took the camping fee and watched him scrawl his name, address and vehicle registration. ‘That’s great, thanks. You’ll find a ranger down at the camp, and there’ll be firewood at the site, hot water in the showers, and the ground has been cleared at the camp sites. Whenever there’s enough of a crowd, we hold a slide night – usually weekly – and there’re leaflets detailing the walks you can do. Okay?’

‘What about fuel?’

‘No chance,’ Tilly said firmly, making a mental note to put the padlock back on the bowser. They left it off through summer as a matter of convenience, but this was only the first of the many enquiries she’d be fielding. ‘What we have, we need.’

‘Fair enough, I suppose. So the closest fuel’d be the Alloway Roadhouse back up the track?’

‘That’s right. Now’—she followed him out to point—‘see the two sheds there? Drive between them and you’re on the road that runs to the camp. I hope you have a lovely stay.’

‘Thanks,’ the man said. His wife smiled from the passenger seat and the closest boy called eagerly, ‘Hey, Miss! Is it on the river? Can we swim?’