‘Well,’ he said, his hesitance clear, ‘it’s probably nothing to really worry about, but I thought you should know.’

Her pulse began to race. ‘Know what?’ she asked sharply.

‘Danny and Billy Blue have made some sort of camp in the caves.’

She laughed with relief. ‘Is that all? I thought for a minute it must be something really serious.’ She smiled up at him. ‘I’m sure you made camps up there as a boy – I know Terry did. I shouldn’t let it bother you.’

He still looked decidedly uneasy. ‘I wouldn’t usually take much notice, but this camp’s a bit out of the ordinary,’ he said in a rush.

He must have seen how her smile slipped and her eyes became wary, for he cleared his throat and hurried on, ‘It’s not a camp to play in, Becky. They’ve left bedding and food, made up a fire and … and left a note.’

Her mouth dried and her heart thudded painfully. ‘What note?’

He pulled the folded paper from his shirt pocket and, after a momentary hesitation, handed it to her.

Danny’s best hand-writing was in brightly coloured crayon and it filled the single page that had been torn from an exercise book.

This camp is for the soldier John Miller. If you want anything else we will be coming up every day. Please wait until we can talk to you. Yours sincerely,

Danny Morgan and Billy Blue.

She gave the note back and realised her hand was shaking. ‘I wondered if all that talk about the mysterious stranger would affect him. But why make him a camp – why do they want to talk to him?’

She looked up at Ben, her eyes widening as an awful possibility dawned on her. ‘Surely he doesn’t think it’s his father?’ she breathed.

Ben shook his head and took her hands. ‘Deep down, I’m sure he knows it’s not,’ he said. ‘But he’s a bright and inquisitive boy, Becky, always asking me and Jake about the war. I think it helps him to understand what happened to Adam, and I’m sure that’s all he wants from this bloke.’

‘Oh, God,’ she breathed, ‘I’d hoped he’d stopped all this talk of war. It’s as if he’s obsessed by it.’

‘I’m sorry to trouble you like this, Becky, but I thought you’d want to know.’

She pulled herself together and stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ‘Thanks, Ben,’ she murmured. ‘You did the right thing. I’ll talk to him tonight and try to make him understand that accosting strange men in caves is not the best idea. None of us knows who this John Miller is, or what he’s doing wandering about in the bush.’