February has heralded the arrival of autumn in Glenorchy, and every morning when I reach the yard, the outdoor school is littered with red, gold and amber leaves. One of Tui’s favourite pastimes is to run through them at high speed, before gathering up handfuls to throw in the air for a delighted Beavis to jump up and catch. The little dog has increased both in size and amounts of fluff, and when he curls himself up for an afternoon nap in the corner of Keith’s box, it’s almost impossible to discern which end is head and which is bottom.

Bonnie is out with the midday ride, while I have promised my sister a jumping lesson once the mucking-out is complete. I am also keeping half an eye on the time, because Hayley is due to arrive this afternoon along with her new boyfriend … Billy. My two best friends started dating not long after I flew out here, with Hayley confessing rather cautiously that it had started as a drink to cheer Billy up after I friend-zoned him, then progressed to car-park snogging after he beat her at six consecutive games of pool.

‘I let him win, obviously,’ she had added, and I had laughed.

Hayley was worried that I would feel weird about this development, but that could not be further from the truth. I am genuinely thrilled for them, and even more thrilled at the prospect of winding them up about their new couple status when they get here. David, who bumped into them in the pub recently, told me that they make quite the striking duo. He and I still talk most days, but there’s a lingering uneasiness there and we rarely stray on to the topic of him being my real father. And while I believe things between us will settle down eventually, it is definitely going to take some more time.

Slotting the pitchfork back on its hook and propping my hosed-down wheelbarrow up against the wall, I venture across to the hay barn in search of Tui. I have enjoyed working here every day with Bonnie, getting to know her better, but it is the weekends I relish the most, because that’s when I get to spend quality time with my exuberant half-sibling.

‘Come on, Tu!’ I call up into the rafters. ‘Keith is not going to tack himself up, you know.’

I hear a muffled ‘Jeez’ followed by a screech of laughter, and then Tui’s bare feet come into view.

‘Beavis,’ I say, addressing the dog as he follows his mistress, ‘have you been eating Tui’s socks again?’

Tui starts giggling, bouncing from one bale of hay down to the next on her bottom and hiccupping with amusement.

Spotting her discarded boots, I pick one up and give it a sniff.

‘Ugh!’ I cry, wrinkling up my nose. ‘You didn’t tell me these were made from fish skins, cheese and poo, Tui.’