She gestured to the glass display fridge by the counter. ‘There’s some sweet potato and spinach quiche, our famous home-baked meat pie, or I can make you a sandwich a little more gourmet than what you’ve been making yourself.’

‘I’ll have a pie.’

‘Excellent. One pie coming right up.’

While Jedda went off to fill my order, I walked over to the corner where Bindi was chewing on a soggy biscuit in the playpen.

‘Hello, angel.’

‘She’s in a right grump today and has barely slept at all,’ Jedda warned.

Bindi looked up at me warily and I offered her a gentle smile. ‘Do you like reading?’ I asked, pointing to a well-loved copy of Where Is the Green Sheep? beside her.

In reply she picked up the book and thrust it at me.

I sat myself down on the floor beside the playpen and began to read. After a couple of pages, she edged closer and I felt her soft breath on my neck as she listened. A few more pages and she poked me through the rails and held out her little pudgy arms to me.

‘It’s a miracle,’ Jedda said from where she was busy behind the counter. ‘I think she wants you to pick her up.’

‘Is that okay?’

‘More than.’

‘Would you like to sit on my lap and read a story?’ I held my breath as I went to pick her up. It had been a while since I’d had much to do with babies.

Holding Bindi close, I took her to a table, sat down and opened the book again. She leaned back against me and began to suck her thumb as I read. By the time I’d read Green Sheep through twice, Bindi had fallen asleep and Jedda had delivered my lunch to the table.

‘Where should I put her?’ I asked.

‘I’ll get the pram.’

Jedda returned a few moments later and together we gently laid the little girl down. Bindi stirred a moment and Jedda and I looked at each other—both holding our breaths—but she didn’t wake up.

‘That lunch is on the house,’ Jedda said. ‘Do you mind if I sit a moment too? Gail is cleaning up in the kitchen and I wouldn’t mind a few minutes off my feet while I can get it.’

‘I’d be delighted.’ I liked Jedda immensely, but she was usually too busy for extended conversation.

She grabbed some water and then sat opposite me while I began to eat.

‘This is so good,’ I said. ‘It’s better than any pie I’ve ever tasted. What’s the secret?’

Jedda winked. ‘Vegemite. And consider yourself lucky—I don’t tell just anyone that, but I owe you one getting Bindi to sleep.’

As I ate, we talked a little more about Bindi’s teething issues and her current aversion to sleep. I also told Jedda about meeting Mrs Fine and she rolled her eyes, not at all surprised.

‘How long have you lived in Ragged Point?’ I asked when there was a lull in conversation.