The smell hit Marty first. The animal was almost unrecognisable. Its grey innards curled in a heap, the head separated from the body, tufts of grey fur scattered across the dirt. Most likely a rabbit ripped apart. He wouldn’t tell Bella what it was—her bunny had died just a few months ago. Marty steered her away from the remains and kicked dirt over the mess.

‘Like Janice’s chooks,’ Bella said.

Their neighbour across the road had bailed them up as they were leaving the house earlier. Between sobs, Janice described the carnage in her chook pen: all five chickens mauled to death during the night. The victims of a fox, presumably. Bella wanted to organise a funeral—she knew the name of each hen. Lexie had been in tears and beseeched him silently. He’d ended up helping Janice dig a grave for the chooks while Bella and Lexie sang ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’.

Soft in the head. Marty could almost hear his father scorning the tearful women. ‘Buck up,’ his dad would have said. ‘Life in the bush is hard, get used to it.’ Not that they were living in the bush exactly: Merrigang was a village with a foot in each camp—the suburbs of Canberra over the ridge on one side, and farms and wilderness on the other.

He’d fallen for the place; it felt like coming home. And Lexie seemed better, he was sure of it; she was even making friends.

Not long after he’d pulled Bella away from the dead rabbit mess, one of those friends had appeared on the ridge: Tara, jogging in rainbow leggings, her cropped red hair plastered to her head with sweat.

‘This must be the elusive doctor,’ she’d said, winking at Lexie. ‘You didn’t tell us he was such a hottie! You’ve been keeping him away from us on purpose.’

A hottie. Marty had to stop himself from guffawing. He was pretty sure that, at forty-six, the term no longer applied. Did Tara prefer older men? She must be younger than thirty. Marty watched as a blush flared on Lexie’s cheeks, then his wife sidled closer to him and draped her arm around his shoulders. He could feel the warmth of her body, the weight of her arm, the curve of her breast pressed against him. When was the last time his wife had spontaneously hugged him? Those hugs were saved for Bella.

‘Hi, I’m Marty Parker,’ he said. ‘Hopefully not too elusive.’

‘I’m sure you’ve heard all about me.’ Tara put her hands on her hips and drew in a lungful of air. She was shorter than Lexie and had to look up at them both. ‘I’m the one who makes them laugh every week.’

Lexie giggled. ‘You’re the one who shocks us.’ She arched her eyebrows and said to Marty, ‘Tara swears all the time.’