‘And what about mine?’ Tilly demanded. ‘I didn’t ask for any of this! My stepfather never did more than tolerate me, my husband deceived me, my daughter—’ Her voice broke momentarily but she swallowed hard and recovered, saying flintily, ‘So just excuse me if I’m not too concerned about anyone else’s feelings right now.’

Sophie lifted her hands, one holding the now empty bottle. ‘Whatever you want, Till. I’d kick the bugger myself if he was here. The thing I don’t like about this is that he was here at all. Why? He’s supposed to be dead, so why is he doing the tourist thing?’

It was a question that had not occurred to Tilly. Frowning, she said, ‘I can’t imagine. I spent hours last night thinking about what he could’ve been up to and the most feasible, given that he had the boat, seemed to be people smuggling. But what could that possibly have to do with Binboona?’

‘I can’t see a connection,’ Sophie admitted. ‘Here’—she passed the dish of meat to her cousin—‘Harry’s feed. I’ll see to the bottles. And I just might ask the boys to keep their eyes open for anything odd about the place. Don’t worry, I won’t mention Gerry, but if something funny’s going on here . . .’

‘We keep a record of everybody that enters Binboona,’ Tilly objected. ‘And there’s only the camp to come to. It would be tantamount to murder to dump refugees out in the bush.’

‘That’s what I’m hoping. Maybe Gerry was just hiding out, thinking it was safer than town. After all, he couldn’t have known you were here. It must’ve come as a helluva shock to see you. If he did, of course.’

‘He did,’ Tilly said. ‘Well, somebody did and told him. Or else how would he have known where to send the letter?’

She stared blindly at the dish of meat, saying slowly, ‘Maybe I should leave. Not just Binboona, but the north – just go and leave the whole mess behind.’

‘But—’ Sophie checked her protest and said instead, ‘Where though? Not back home?’

‘No, I couldn’t. Mum’s got enough on her plate. I’d have to find a place of my own, and a job.’ Her lips twisted derisively. ‘Doing what? I’m not trained for anything – that’s the trouble. If I hadn’t been in such a rush to get away when I finished school . . . But I’m a bit old now to start anywhere as an apprentice.’

‘You could start here,’ her cousin offered. ‘Become a proper qualified ranger.’