She’d been extraordinarily bold, indeed forward, when she’d proposed her plan during their walk on that evening barely a week ago, and he’d wondered if she’d thought it through properly. The prospect had excited him of course, it had excited him immensely and it still did. But much as he wanted her, he hated to think she might end up with regrets.

‘Yes, I’m quite sure,’ she’d said. ‘We love each other, Kasey, we both know we do, and this is the natural progression of love.’ She’d sounded very worldly, which was exactly her intention because she knew she was right. ‘We’ll take precautions though,’ she’d added, ‘you’ll look after that side of things, won’t you?’

Not only bold, not only forward, but practical also. There was obviously no point in wondering whether she might live with regrets. Betty knew exactly what she was doing.

That same night, before he returned to camp, Kasey had paid a visit to one of the many outlets, which were always lit by blue lights to ensure they were easily discernible. Venereal disease by now being rife throughout Townsville, condoms were readily available to servicemen.

Slinging her bag over one shoulder, Betty set off. ‘Only about half a mile,’ she said cheerily.

Hoisting his own kit bag over his shoulder, Kasey followed, and together they hiked along a track that led across the boulder-strewn headland, arriving ten minutes later at a picturesque bay with a pristine beach.

He could see several small buildings dotted about here and there, but trekking along the sand she led him past these, finally turning off the beach and up a narrow track to arrive before a cottage that had been barely visible where it sat among the trees and coastal vegetation.

‘Here we are,’ she announced, ‘the family mansion.’

It was a modest wooden shack with a tin roof, a water tank on a stand beside it and several steps leading up to a tiny front verandah, but it looked so pretty amid the surrounding terrain of rocky outcrops and scrubland and tropical greenery.

‘Why now, that is truly beautiful,’ he said admiringly.

‘Yes, isn’t it,’ she agreed. ‘Come on, I’ll show you around – all three rooms,’ and she trotted up the steps, opening the front door, which was never locked.

Inside, they explored the house briefly, all three rooms as she’d said – the general living room and a small bedroom each side, one for the parents and one for the children.

‘It was all right when I was a kid, but I hated sharing with Tom when I was a teenager,’ she said, ‘that was the only bad part.’

They dumped their bags on the table that sat in the very centre of the shack and she unpacked her towel, bathing togs and the sandwiches she’d brought, chatting all the while.