‘Oh, right. I think I remember. It’s been a long time since I lived here. Actually, Mum mentioned you this morning—said you had great coffee at the roadhouse. I don’t know why she didn’t tell me you lived here.’

‘When you have a husband who is a coffee snob, you learn to make good coffee. Come down and I’ll make you one. So, what are you doing back here? Last I heard, you were a high-flying journalist.’

Kim came down the steps and walked across the yard to lean against the fence, and Zara could see she was wanting a long conversation.

‘My brother is sick,’ she answered. ‘And I just moved in today, so I still have a heap of unpacking to do.’

‘Ah …’ A heavy sadness entered Kim’s voice. ‘Yes, I’d heard that Will wasn’t well.’

Zara felt her throat close over. Don’t be too nice or I’ll cry, she thought.

‘I’d heard he was having more treatment. Not good then?’

Zara shook her head.

‘Well, what a beautiful thing for you to do. To come back here and help. How’s your mum holding up. And Will?’

‘We’re all fine. Adjusting.’ What a load of shit.

‘Well, Dave and I are here if you need anything. Even if it’s just help to shift some of the furniture.’

‘Thanks.’ Zara felt awkward accepting help from someone from her childhood who she barely remembered. ‘That’s nice of you …’

‘Are you still going to be working while you’re up here?’ Kim wanted to know.

‘Yeah, I’ve had a transfer from work, so I’ll report on this area now. It won’t be as busy so I can spend a bit more time at the farm and help out there.’

‘I’m sure they’re both really pleased you’re home.’

A car turned into the street and drove slowly into Kim’s driveway.

‘That’s Dave now,’ said Kim. ‘Come on and I’ll introduce you.’

‘I really should—’

‘Won’t take two seconds to say hello,’ she insisted.

Zara felt like rolling her eyes. Fantastic. She’d managed to get a house next to the town chatterbox. Just what she didn’t need.

‘Hello, honey,’ Kim said as a tall man with greying hair got out of the car. He was solidly built, Zara noticed, but had a gentleness about him.

‘Hey you.’ He leaned down to give her a kiss.

Zara could tell he whispered something in her ear, because a smile spread across Kim’s face. Zara looked away uncomfortably. Public displays of affection were not something she liked.

‘Come and meet Zara. She’s Lynda Ellison’s daughter.’

‘Oh, g’day, Zara. Welcome to our street.’ He walked towards her and held out his hand.

‘Thanks. Nice to meet you,’ Zara answered politely, shaking his hand. How had she ended up here when all she wanted was to go inside and unpack, a glass of wine next to her?

‘Dave’s the local detective,’ Kim said, proudly putting her hand on his arm.

‘Oh.’ Zara’s ears pricked up. ‘That’s great to know. I may have to come and interview you at some point.’