The gentleman laughed. ‘Of course it’s not. These things are never for sale, are they? Until they’re sold.’ He removed his glasses. Fogged them with his breath, rubbed them with a handkerchief he pulled from his jacket. ‘You are aware of this boat’s properties, I take it?’

‘Huon pine. Sails nicely. As I said: it’s not for sale.’

‘Yes, Huon pine. They made quite a few of them. But not many like this. Not many at all, did they, Harry?’ Harry, now standing nearby, shook his head.

‘And of the ones they did make, many have been lost or destroyed. People have been looking for a boat like this for a long time. People like me.’

Ned couldn’t see a way of making them leave without being rude.

The gentleman stepped towards him. ‘I am prepared to pay you top price, Master West. The absolute height of what this boat could be considered to be worth.’

‘I appreciate your interest, sir, but—’

The gentleman cut him off. ‘This war, lad. It’s tough on everyone. Tough in so many ways.’ He said the words like they meant something else. ‘Think beyond yourself for a moment. Think of more than your appetite for sailing. Imagine what that money could do. Imagine what it could mean.’ He pulled on a soft smile: teacherly, grandfatherly. Turned to the orchard. Returned his glasses to his face and peered at the apple trees.

Ned pushed his heels into the pebbles, searching for the steadiness that had fled him. ‘Good crop coming in. Don’t need money.’

‘A bumper crop, my boy. One to be proud of. But a crop that is still a few long weeks from harvest.’ The gentleman raised a palm. ‘Please, scrub that comment from your mind. I am not here to pressure you, or to make observations and implications. I want only to impress upon you the great opportunity of my offer. I will reiterate: the highest conceivable value.’

He named his price. Let it hang and expand in the air. He clasped his hands together, closed his damp lips, and waited. Harry hovered on the shore beyond him, hands in his pockets.

After a minute, Ned gave his final answer. The only one he could live with.

~

The next morning the clouds were gone and the summer scorched back to life. Ned did not hesitate. He was on the water twenty minutes after waking.

The wind was light but it was at his back, so he did not have to row or struggle to work the boat forward. In an hour he was further north than he’d ever sailed before, the slateblue water carrying him with ease. White clouds were soft and mountainous in the sky. Gulls dived into schools of baitfish, which were hunted from below by the slippery figures of blackback salmon. By mid-morning the river doglegged west and widened into a large estuary.