As if the wind understood her conversation, there was an extra-strong gust and the office door banged shut.

‘That sounds awful. I’d prefer the heat and not the dust, if I had a choice. I saw pictures on Facebook of massive dust clouds coming in over Adelaide. Is it like that there?’

‘I guess that’s why you live south and I’m not usually living north! And, yep, it is. Revolting.’

‘How’s Will?’

‘On the downward slide.’ Zara ran her hands through her hair and sighed deeply.

‘Oh shit, I’m sorry, Zara.’

‘You know, someone told me once that when a person with cancer dies, there’s a massive amount of relief. And I thought that was awful. Surely there should be grief and sadness, not relief. But I’m beginning to understand why. The relentlessness of it all is so difficult.’

‘Is he bedridden?’

‘Not yet. Most days he tries to get up and spend a bit of time in the office. Then he goes back to bed. He’s sleeping heaps. And when I googled what the end might look like, that’s one of the signs.’

‘How long have you been up there?’

‘Not even a week! Five days today.’

‘Do you think he was waiting for you to get there so you could help your mum?’

Zara paused. She hadn’t thought of that. ‘I don’t know.’

‘I’ve heard of people managing to hold on until loved ones arrive and they get to say their final goodbyes. Maybe Will was waiting until you got there to help Lynda.’

‘I guess so.’ She stopped talking as that sank in. ‘Shit. Maybe I should head out there tonight. I’ve been thinking about it, but with the dust and everything, I decided to stay home.’

‘I’m not saying that’s it, just a thought.’

‘Anyway, let’s change the subject. Let’s talk about something happy.’

‘Excellent idea! You start.’

‘Now, just because I had the idea doesn’t mean I have to start! Anyway, I haven’t got much good news. Or at least fun news.’

‘We’ve been having trouble with protesters out the front of the farm. Not that that’s at all funny. Scary, more like it.’

In the background Zara could hear the occasional deep grunt of contentment and the hum of the farm’s cooling system. They were gentle sounds and, knowing what a well-run piggery Tammy and Stu had, she was gobsmacked to hear the protesters had targeted them. ‘What the hell are they doing that for? Have you got a journo down there covering the protest? I haven’t heard anything about it.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, the cops have been out and are making sure they’re all kept off the farm. There’ve been a couple of papers down here but, really, it happens so often now, the shock factor has gone, and we’re just getting on with our work, whether there are protesters around or not. Bloody annoying, though, getting the kids down to the school bus and that. It’s not great for them to have to see it all, but until someone trespasses on our property, we can’t do anything about it. They’re allowed to be on the road.’