Hirsch realised a cup of tea was exactly what he needed and followed Nan’s comfortable shape into a kitchen at the side of the house. It was a vast, well-lit room with French Provincial-style sinks, copper-bottomed pans hanging above an island bench, a farmhouse oven, a burnished steel fridge and a sizeable wooden table with cane-bottomed chairs.

‘Sit.’

Hirsch sat. The window looked over more roses, a clothesline and a side fence and farmland. Nan put the kettle on and rummaged for biscuits. Good, Hirsch was starving, too. Still bustling about, she turned off the radio, reached for cups and side plates, filling him in on her day. Had he stopped by earlier? She’d been out since breakfast, just got back. First her mother, in a nursing home over in Port Pirie, then visits to the bank and her accountant, had her hair done for tomorrow night, generally a day trying to fit everything in. It isn’t nerves, Hirsch thought, she likes to talk. There was a husband, but he lived in a caravan out east and spent all of his days ranging the back country with a metal detector. A bit cracked in the head, apparently, but harmless.

Finally, tea made and biscuits delivered, Nan said, ‘Now, what can I do for you?’

Hirsch took a sideways approach. ‘Did you happen to look in the shed when you got back?’

‘No. Why?’

‘So you wouldn’t have seen that your ute is missing?’

A look of pure astonishment. ‘Missing?’

‘Have you driven it today, by any chance? Did it break down on you?’

‘It’s undriveable. What are you getting at?’

‘I found it abandoned just off the highway a little while ago. Not far, about a kilometre past the silos.’

‘How did it get there?’ As if aware that she’d asked a silly question, she added, ‘I never drive it, it just sits in the shed.’

‘So you haven’t let anyone borrow it?’

‘They’d be in for a shock. It conks out after a couple of minutes.’

‘Where do you leave the key?’

She wriggled uncomfortably. ‘In the ignition. No one was going to steal…Well, I guess someone has.’

Hirsch reached for a biscuit. His fingers melted the chocolate. ‘How do you manage without a ute?’

‘I don’t really need one. Things like hay or oats I get delivered, and I can always load things in the back of the wagon. I use the wheelbarrow if I need to move hay from A to B.’

‘Heavy lifting?’

‘There’s always someone I can call on,’ she said, and Hirsch saw a glimmer of understanding reach her eyes. Looking away, she added, ‘Laura Cobb helps me with the grooming and feeding and her brother lends a hand if we need extra muscle.’

A pause developed. Hirsch said, ‘Is Daryl ever here with his friend, Adam?’

‘Adam Flann? Once,’ Washburn said, and she straightened her back and shut her mouth.