But beneath that stoic facade she was a profoundly worried woman. They’d heard nothing from Hugh since the day before, and all they’d been able to gather from Big Mac’s terse calls on the two-way was that Hugh was leading the women and children away from Carey Downs in convoy for Morgan’s Reach.

But that was hours ago – and by the sound of it the fire was getting out of hand – reaching ever closer to Warratah Forest, and to Sal and Max.

As for Danny, there had been no sighting of him since this morning – and no word from Django since he’d left town in search of the boy. The thought of her beloved great-grandson all alone out there in the dark made her heartsick. But Gwyneth knew she wasn’t alone in her anxiety, for it showed in her granddaughter’s face and in Jane’s – and in the way they kept busy, as if by doing so they wouldn’t have to think about anything but the task at hand.

She admired their strength and fortitude in the face of such awful fear, and was trying to follow their example in the hope that she wouldn’t let the side down by collapsing under the weight of her own dread, and yet her stoicism was about to be put to the test in the cruellest of ways.

She was precariously balancing a tray of teacups on one hand as she headed for the kitchen when she heard Sal’s voice over the two-way. As the import of what the girl was saying sank in, the world seemed to tilt and the dirty crockery slid from the tray and crashed to the ground. ‘Dear God,’ she breathed. ‘Not Max too.’

The room began to spin, and she would have fallen in a dead faint if not for the strong hands that gently eased her down to sit on the floor.

‘Put your head down,’ said Sandra, ‘and try to take deep breaths while I get you some water.’

Gwyneth did as she was told and fought off the nauseating, swirling darkness that was threatening to overwhelm her. When Sandra placed the glass of water to her lips, she drank gratefully before pushing it away. ‘Thank you,’ she muttered. ‘So silly of me. Please don’t fuss.’

‘I saw your face when that girl was talking to me over the two-way,’ Sandra said as she squatted beside her. ‘You went quite white. Is she a relative?’

Gwyneth shook her head and grasped Sandra’s arm urgently. ‘Where’s Terry? He has to get to Max before it’s too late.’

‘He’s still in theatre,’ replied Sandra with a frown. ‘Come on, let’s get you off the floor and into a chair where you can rest for a bit. You’ve been on the go all day – it’s no wonder you fainted.’