As Annie set a price for the night’s bed and board, the crowd began to disperse and Sandra turned to Terence with a gleam of excitement in her eyes. ‘That about proves it,’ she breathed. ‘It’s got to be the same man.’

‘So what if it is?’ he replied, weary of this obsession Sandra seemed reluctant to let go, and yet rather intrigued all the same. ‘He’s doing no harm.’

‘I never said he was,’ she replied impatiently. ‘But don’t you find it just a bit odd? What on earth is he doing out there – and why so secretive?’

Terence had had the same thoughts but decided not to voice them. Sandra was already far too caught up in this piece of fantasy, and it would do no good to encourage it. He looked down at Danny, who’d been standing beside him for the past few minutes. ‘I think Frank just tells a good yarn. What do you reckon, mate?’

Danny shrugged. ‘I reckon it’s time for tea,’ he said nonchalantly. ‘I’m starving.’

Terence laughed and was about to ruffle his hair when he remembered how much he’d hated people doing that to him at that age, so clapped him on the shoulder instead. ‘Come on, mate. Let’s see what there is in the fridge. Then we’ll go and see to Gran’s menagerie.’

The three of them walked back down the street, heads bent against the hot wind that seemed to have strengthened during the past half-hour. To an observer they would appear to be entirely focused on reaching shelter from the gathering storm But in the heart and mind of the small boy there raged a very different tempest – one of overwhelming hope that battled against gnawing doubt and common sense. It was a struggle he knew he had to keep to himself if he was ever to discover the truth.

*

Knowing how far he had to go, and all too aware of the approaching storm, Hugh had pushed the utility to the limit as he’d headed south-west to Carey Downs Station. Now it was dark, and the storm was rapidly closing in as the thunder crashed overhead and the lightning flickered over the mulga trees and clumps of spinifex.

He still had at least another hour’s driving before he reached the homestead, which had been built on a low hill right at the heart of the property which sprawled over several thousand square miles of thick bush and open pasture. His headlights picked up the faint track that he’d followed so many times before, but as the dust blew across it he was finding it increasingly difficult to spot the usual landmarks.

He was beginning to have serious doubts as to the wisdom of trying to carry on in the dark when he saw a rider emerge through the dust clouds.