‘Runnin’ water, see?’ she boasted to Val as she held the kettle under the tap. ‘Got all I need here.’

‘It’s nice, Edie.’ Val gazed about approvingly. ‘It’s really nice. You’ve done a beaut job.’

Edie beamed. Val’s approval meant a great deal to her. ‘Used to run a laundry from this place, I did. Lug the linen and stuff home and do it right here in this tub. Worked real good, too.’ She crossed to the kerosene stove, knelt and lit it, placing the kettle on top, then stood. ‘Wanna come out and look at the view while she boils, eh?’ she asked.

‘Sure, why not?’

They stepped outside to the pristine beauty of Rose Bay, to the endless stretch of white beach and the stark blue of the ocean and the differing greens of the trees, of native gums and palms that formed a backdrop to the two lone boatsheds that sat there. As far as the eye could see, there was not another soul in sight.

‘I’m happy here, Val,’ Edie said. ‘Feels like where I belong, you know?’

‘Yep.’ Val nodded slowly. ‘Yep, I think I know.’

They stood for some time enjoying the view until Edie broke the silence. ‘Come on inside, she’ll be boilin’ by now.’

Squatting by the stove, pouring the water into the teapot, Edie apologised. ‘’Fraid you’ll have to sit on the floor, sorry about that.’

Val didn’t say a word, but just plonked herself down.

‘S’pose I’ll have to get a chair if you’re gonna come visitin’, eh?’ Edie asked as they sat side by side waiting for the tea to draw.

‘Yes,’ Val said. ‘Yes, you certainly will.’ She looked around the hut, her gaze coming to rest on the tub. ‘You used to run a laundry service from here, you said?’

‘Yeh. Yeh, that’s right.’

It was a comparatively early stage in a friendship that they both knew was destined to prove lifelong, but a vague plan was already forming in Val Callahan’s mind.

CHAPTER FOUR

Val followed through with her plan, the first step of which was much easier than she’d anticipated. Enquiries at the local Lands and Title office revealed that the owner of the boatsheds was long deceased and that he’d never owned the land anyway, it belonged to the council. He’d been a squatter. No-one knew exactly which year the sheds had been built, but it was not long after the war, Val was told, ‘say around 1920’.

‘Seems he built one to live in and the other one to house his boat and tackle,’ her informant said. ‘He was an old bloke, I believe; a retired local fisherman who lived a hermit existence and everyone turned a blind eye.’