They’d driven in shell-shocked silence to the next shed. The next lot of shearers’ quarters. The next lot of shearers. The shearing team—usually a dozen of them and all blokes—camped close to each other. She was sick of the constant travel, the weary men and the stench of sheep.

Their accommodation was the same as all the others: one small room for the two of them, nowhere private for a moment’s peace. Rose had to share her new husband with everyone else and there were very few people for her to talk to. Sometimes she wondered how she’d ended up pregnant and on the road at twenty. But she loved and trusted Ian, and was still happy to sit beside him in the passenger seat.

She sighed, turning towards him as he spoke.

‘Surely they do,’ Ian nodded. ‘But …’

The fuel attendant came out. ‘How much would you like?’ he asked, unscrewing the fuel cap.

‘Fill her up. Thanks, mate.’

‘Just passing through?’ the man asked, as the smell of fuel rose into the air.

‘Nah, be around for a few weeks. Got a bit of work out at a shed just north of here.’ Ian walked away from the car and stretched. ‘Out at Jacksonville.’

‘Oh, yeah? Shearer?’

‘Ian Kelly, at your service.’ He held out his hand and the other man shook it.

‘Stuart Martin. Good people out there at Jacksonville.’ He glanced across at Rose. ‘Long way to the hospital from there though. Nearly an hour’s drive when the road’s good. Get a thunderstorm and you’ll be stuck for a while.’

‘An hour, you say?’ Ian answered. ‘Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind. Haven’t been there before. Good to hear they’re nice.’

‘Can’t go wrong with Ross and Ali Barton. Top shelf.’ He looked over at Rose. ‘Long to go?’

‘A month or so yet. I wish they would arrive sooner,’ Rose said, pushing her red hair away from her forehead. ‘I’m sick of being fat and beaten up from the inside.’ She paused. ‘That sun’s got some bite in it.’ She fanned her face. Another kick and she clutched her belly, unable to stop from groaning aloud.

‘Rose?’ Ian took a step towards her.

An older woman, dressed in jeans and a shirt, walked out of the roadhouse, her blonde ponytail bouncing behind her. ‘Hello! Oh, are you all right there?’ She glanced at Ian as he put his hand on Rose’s shoulder. ‘Take some deep breaths now. That’s right, in and out.’

Rose focused on the woman’s voice and did what she was told.

The woman squatted down in front of her and smiled encouragingly. ‘Well done. Keep breathing.’ She turned to look up at Ian. ‘Is she having contractions?’

‘How the hell do I know? She was fine in the car a minute ago.’ Ian took a couple of steps back, looking shaken.