‘No,’ he barked. ‘Look at her. She’s comatose.’ Then he shut his eyes and drew a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry. Not your fault. You’re very kind. How long?’

Sophie grimaced. ‘An hour maybe, bit more? He’s coming from Darwin, but they have to get the pilot out to the airport, do the checks . . . it all takes time. Look, would she be better lying down in the recovery position, perhaps?’

‘I’ll get a mattress.’ Luke vanished before Don could speak and shortly the patient was ensconced on the floor, covered by a blanket. She roused briefly as she was lifted, mumbling, ‘Daddy’ and something else Tilly didn’t catch. Her eyes were swollen almost shut but even so, Tilly thought, one could see the prettiness beneath. Luke, hovering over her, restlessly cracking his knuckles, was obviously deeply concerned.

‘How did you become aware something was wrong?’ Sophie handed Don a mug of tea. ‘There’ll be some breakfast shortly.’

‘What? Oh, thanks.’ The man passed a hand over the hairless part of his scalp. ‘I heard her moaning in the tent. I was sleeping just outside. She seemed to be choking and she didn’t answer when I asked if she was okay. So I went in and found her. She said her arm was burning, then sort of passed out. Not all at once, she was mumbling and moaning and getting worse by the minute, so I woke up Luke here.’

‘Was she on a camp bed?’ Connor asked. ‘Not that it’d make any difference. Anything that crawls . . .’

‘Yes. But she wanted the tent unzipped. She liked to watch the stars . . . I suppose whatever bit her got in that way.’

It was a long wait until the first faint hum of the plane sounded. The sun was up by then, drenching the land with light. Breakfast was over, although neither Don nor Luke had eaten much beyond toast and tea. Jane moaned occasionally and mumbled, her face flushed and sweating. Luke, watching her, chewed the nails of his right hand until Tilly gently caught his wrist.

‘Don’t. It’s most unhygenic. Come with me. You can help with the joeys.’

‘What?’

‘It’ll give you something to do.’

‘Yes, go on, Luke,’ Sophie commanded. ‘There’s still the work to get through.’

They had just finished the feeding when the drone of the aero engine sounded.

‘Thank Christ!’ Luke abandoned his task and sprinted for the house.

Five minutes later he, the patient and her father were on their way to the airstrip. Presently Tilly, back sterilising bottles and sweeping the kitchen floor, heard the deeper note of the plane engines running up in preparation for take-off. She stepped out onto the verandah, followed by Connor, to watch the King Air’s wings catch the sun as it arrowed away to the south.