Still, thinking of the nameless person who needed work on their bunions or ingrown toenails and my poor daughter’s teeth, I almost caved. I’d never been the type to go out of my way to make life difficult for others.

But you don’t want to make things easy for him either, Hayley’s voice came from somewhere deep inside my head.

‘I’m sorry, but that won’t be possible. I’m two hours away and not coming back till Sunday morning. You’ll have to make it work.’

My heart palpitated as I disconnected the call, half proud of myself for standing my ground, half wondering if I’d just hammered another nail into the coffin waiting to bury my marriage. I didn’t want to make Adrian angry, but he needed to realise he couldn’t walk all over me.

Thankfully, between all the manual labour and helping Jedda on the Reporter, I didn’t have too much time to dwell on it. Bindi’s teething had got a lot worse—I suspected she was getting her two-year-old molars early—and this was making Jedda’s life rather difficult. I could hear the stress in her voice when we had dinner together on Monday night and immediately wanted to help if I could. ‘Is there something I can do to give you a break?’

‘Are you any good at typing?’

‘Yes. I sometimes do reception work for Adrian and I’m the secretary for the school fundraising committee. Why?’

‘I’m way behind on typing up all the handwritten articles the oldies have sent in and people are starting to ask when the next issue of the Reporter is out. The one I delivered to the general store the day we met is the last edition I’ve managed, and that’s bad even for me.’

‘I’d love to type up the articles for you.’

So that’s how I ended up spending most nights at Jedda’s. While she struggled to get Bindi to sleep, Charlie and I would sit in her office and I’d type up reports from the bowling club, the CWA and the Men’s Shed, to name but a few. Although I wasn’t supposed to, I couldn’t help rewriting some of the awkward sentences, which amused Jedda. I didn’t mind typing but the unofficial editing gave me a real thrill. It was almost as if I’d written some of the articles myself.

Once Bindi had finally settled, Jedda would bring me in a slice of cake or a glass of wine, or both. Then, while she worked on the layout of the paper ready to print, I’d keep her company late into the night. I enjoyed learning more about the production of the Reporter and also hearing stories about Ragged Point and the people who lived there.