She was making her way back to the bar when a voice raised in anger cut through the hum of conversation. A man jumped up from where he’d been having dinner with his two male companions and said heatedly, ‘Deer, feral dogs and pigs do as much damage as the horses.’ He had his back to her, so all Sterling could see was his bomber jacket and blue jeans with two white skulls on the backs of his thighs.

‘Yes, and we cull them. The brumbies are destroying the alpine environment,’ one of the other men argued, not caring that everyone around them had stopped talking to watch.

‘They’re an important part of our wartime history,’ said the first man.

‘I agree with you on that.’

‘Oh, shit, here we go,’ said Elijah as Sterling joined him. ‘The brumby debate; when will it all end?’

‘I don’t know enough about it,’ said Sterling, watching the three men argue. ‘What do you think?’

‘What do I think? I think I’m going to ask them to leave.’

Elijah approached the table; both men were standing now. The man facing Sterling had messy red hair and his pale complexion was blotched with crimson. The third man pulled his cap over his eyes and leaned back in his chair, making it clear he was not taking part.

‘Come on, fellas,’ she heard Elijah say, ‘people are trying to enjoy their dinner. Dial it down or take it outside.’

Right then Sergeant Collins rose and walked towards the group. A hush fell over the room, prompting the men’s seated companion to lift the brim of his cap and look around to see what was happening.

‘You two are disrupting everyone’s evening, including mine,’ Sergeant Collins said. ‘No one here cares for your opinions. Now sit down or leave.’

The room held a collective breath, and then the redhead snatched up his keys and left. The man with the skulls on his jeans sat down. A few patrons clapped as Sergeant Collins returned to his table.

‘That was close,’ Elijah said, keeping watch on the two who’d remained as Sterling began cleaning up behind the bar.

The door opened, and the patrons turned as one, fearing the redhead had come back to have another go. But it was Heidi Lorrimer who walked in, accompanied by a guy Sterling hadn’t seen before.

Collins looked up and spoke to Heidi as she passed by. She nodded briefly, then followed her companion to the only unoccupied table, which was partly positioned in a foyer leading to the amenities—with little privacy, heavy foot traffic and a 1980s arcade game close by, it was the pub’s least popular table.

Sterling hesitated, but when no one approached the couple, she tucked a menu under her arm and made her way over to them. She knew how to do this; knew what to say to people who had lost a loved one.