‘Go ahead. As soon as we get back to Perth you can shop till you drop.’ He kissed her forehead, then the kettle began to boil and he moved away.

She went and sat down beside him on one of the lovely couches to drink her coffee, happier than she had been at any time since she’d met him.

The weekend passed in a daze of ongoing happiness for Megan. Ben had turned into a normal, fun-loving human being, instead of a business robot. Sometimes she had trouble believing he was the same person. Sometimes she had trouble believing she would not wake up and find herself dreaming. And just occasionally she even dared to hope he was growing more than merely fond of her. Not from what he said, but from the way he behaved, both in bed and out of it.

For most of their stay, the weather was kind to them and she was astonished that this was still winter. They walked all over the block. So much land and it all belonged to them. It was mostly uncleared, with the original bush plants still growing on it, many of them in flower, since it was winter.

Ben had already had a few paths bulldozed through the bush near the cottage because he didn’t want anyone getting lost there. He taught her to recognise some of the native birds and plants, and she was thrilled one morning to wake up to a kookaburra shrieking with laughter outside the shack. That made her feel really Australian.

She planned to buy herself some more books on local wildlife and learn as much as she could. Perhaps they could set aside some land as a sort of animal sanctuary? And plant an arboretum on another part of the land?

‘Whatever you like,’ he said with a smile when she broached those ideas. ‘As long as you let me plant the trees for you. I love getting my hands dirty.’

‘We’ll both plant them – and watch them grow.’

Australia, she thought as she lay wakeful one night, was just as fascinating as she’d expected.

And Ben, in this mood, was Mr Perfect.

Except for the lack of endearments. It was silly to care so much about that, but she did.

Once or twice she walked quietly down to the water on her own, to sit on a fallen tree trunk and soak up the peace as she watched the birds wheeling and circling over the water of the inlet.

Ben didn’t follow her. He seemed to understand her need for time to herself and to have a similar need to be on his own now and then.

On the Sunday afternoon, the sound of rain on the tin roof delighted her, pattering softly as they went to bed, rather like a lullaby.

Later on, it woke them both up, pounding heavily on the roof, but she wouldn’t admit that it was too noisy.