‘I’ll leave you to rest for now,’ murmured Gwyneth as she released his hand and tucked it beneath the sheet. ‘When it’s time, I’ll get Terence to hunt out that old wheelchair so you won’t have to walk to the church.’

He wanted to tell her he was perfectly capable of walking that short distance, to protest against the idea of being wheeled about like some ancient invalid, but the spark of protest died as sleep finally claimed him.

*

The two enormous groups of firemen and volunteers who’d been working both sides of the fire were now joined as one. The line of bowsers kept up a constant stream of drenching water as over four hundred men slowly and determinedly trampled the ashes into the ground and continued to beat at the flames, which were now dying out.

As the final licks of flame were dowsed and the burning embers flickered and died, the men knew they had won. But they were too exhausted to celebrate and could only stare in stunned horror at the devastation.

Ben stood beside his father and Jake as they surveyed the miles of scorched earth which seemed to reach to the distant horizon. They looked across the fried debris of the forest floor to the blackened skeletons of barns, homesteads and shearing sheds – to the shrivelled remains of seared tree-stumps and trampled anthills – and on to charred sentinel trees and the cremated bodies of the animals that hadn’t managed to escape.

Ben turned to his father and they shared weary, relieved smiles. ‘Reckon we’re done here at last,’ he said.

His father’s hand clamped on his shoulder. ‘I reckon we are, son, but there’s a lot of hard work to do if we’re ever gunna get the place right again.’

A great clap of thunder made them jump and everyone looked skyward to the dark thick clouds. The wind was suddenly cooler, the clouds looming low over the land.

Ben felt a spatter of something cold on his face – and then another – and another. He began to laugh as the heavens opened and the rain pelted down. ‘Better late than never,’ he shouted to Jake over the steady drumming of the cloudburst. He slapped him on the back. ‘Come on, mate. We’d better get out of here before we drown.’

*

The man calling himself John Miller looked up from the cave to the thickening clouds that glowered above the tree canopy. The wind had changed direction, and he thought he could scent rain in the air. The fire would soon be out and the men would be returning to Morgan’s Reach. It was almost time for him to disappear again.