She flushed, saying coolly, ‘Even if that were true, I can’t see it’s any of your business, Matt. As to where he is, he ran Luke out to catch the plane. And his work is important, you know. Just as much as what you do.’

‘You reckon?’ Matt’s lip curled. ‘Funny thing about your hotshot botanist – yesterday I asked him what the tree was – the big ’un out back – but all he could come up with was some rubbish in Latin.’ He snorted. ‘I reckon he wouldn’t know it from his big toe. We’ve only got his word he’s even who he says he is.’

‘Why wouldn’t he be? Is he supposed to carry his degree around with him?’ She’d bridled at that your and, rising, tipped her undrunk cup of tea away. ‘Botanists learn Latin names, Matt,’ she said coldly. ‘It’s how they classify plants. Look, you plainly don’t like him, but that’s between the two of you – I don’t want to know. Now, if you’ve finished,’ she added, snatching the plate from which he’d just lifted the last of his cake, ‘I’ve got work to get on with.’

Seething, she busied herself at the sink until he’d gone. How dare he suggest that she had the slightest interest in Connor – or he in her! On the other hand, perhaps the exchange had made her lack of partiality for Matt himself plain as well? Though it should have been obvious to him anyway. God, she hoped he wasn’t one of those blinkered obsessive types who only see what they want. He was a little odd socially, with his long silences and furtive glances that she’d hitherto assumed only to be the result of shyness. Tilly sighed. Why did life have to be so damn complicated?

She heard the plane take off and, a short while after, Connor’s step on the verandah. He came in carrying the mailbag, hanging his hat on the peg by the door. Searching the empty space behind him, Tilly said, ‘Luke got a seat then?’

Connor nodded. ‘Mind you, I think he was prepared to hang onto the tail if that was the only option.’

‘Well, I’m glad for him. For Jane too – it’ll be nice for her to wake to a friendly face. Don won’t make Darwin today unless he drives all night, and that’s without hold-ups. He’s already had one of them, poor man. Would you like a cuppa?’

‘Please, if it’s no trouble. But wouldn’t you rather check the mail out first?’

‘Oh there’s never anything for me.’ Taking the bag from him, Tilly tossed it aside. ‘Sit down and I’ll make a pot. It’s been a morning, hasn’t it? To quote my mum, I really feel that I could do with the cup that cheers but won’t inebriate.’