‘Oh well. Perhaps we need a gate between the sheds. People are generally good, but there’s always one. I’ll get Luke to check which rego we haven’t got and have a word with the driver. We should really have the right to levy fines, but that would raise a scream, I suppose. Do you need a hand with anything?’

‘I’m all organised thanks,’ Tilly said gratefully. ‘And thanks for the time off, Soph. I really enjoyed it.’

Her cousin’s weather-beaten face broke into a smile. ‘I’m glad, Tilly. High time you had a bit of pleasure in your life.’

Luke must have made his point with the guilty camper, for he was full of remorse the following day when he pulled up before the homestead and clumped up the steps to the office. Tilly, drying her hands she’d snatched from the sink, appeared as he reached the verandah.

‘Yes? Can I help you?’

‘Just come to apologise,’ he said gruffly. ‘The ranger bloke said you have to log in when you come. Didn’t realise. Also, I thought the camping was free. Sorry about that. So I’m here to pay up, and to log in before we leave. You want I should do it now?’

‘Oh.’ She had instantly recognised the acne-scarred face, and craned her neck to see the passenger who, suddenly aware of her presence, leant forward and waved. She stared bemused at the young tow-headed man whose lips, as if conscious of her observation, were twitching into a tentative smile. ‘What?’ she said, then recovering, ‘Right. Yes – pay and sign in. I’ll get the book. Better late than never, I suppose.’ She must be losing her mind, she thought uncertainly. How could she possibly have imagined . . .?

The man was still talking as he pulled out his wallet while she patted the desks distractedly in search of the pen. ‘The point is,’ she interrupted severely, then lost the thread of what she’d started to say. She saw him looking at her and strove to collect her wandering thoughts. ‘What you did – it leads to . . . I mean, the fees apart, we need to keep track of how many campers we have. Yesterday someone drove all the way in here and we had to turn him away, because my boss didn’t know that your camp site was taken. It cost that poor man ninety kilometres of travel and now he probably has a very poor opinion of the place.’

‘Yeah, well, I’m sorry. Never thought . . . It won’t happen again.’

‘Good.’ She couldn’t, Tilly supposed, keep chastising him. In a friendlier voice she asked, ‘So, where are you from?’

‘Huh? Oh, Mackay, North Queensland.’

‘I know it. What about your mate?’