Underneath, inside an old passport containing a picture of Tony looking exactly as he had at the Gold Coast the year of his wedding, James discovered a few more photos. Some of them were the spares from the passport photo machine. In them, Tony was mucking around, his golden curls spilling down either side of his face. Below those was a strip of images of Leanne, taken the same day at almost the same moment, looking as though her new husband had been trying to make her laugh.

One last photo slid into the heel of James’s hand. He could already see it had been torn from a group shot of Tony and Leanne’s wedding. As he carefully let the others fall away, James recognised himself.

He was wearing Tony’s school uniform. It didn’t fit him well at all, but he didn’t appear to really care. Tony was standing just in front of him, smiling that winning smile for the camera, but all there was of Leanne was the very edge of her white dress. The rest of her had been torn away leaving just Tony and Jamie.

He would have been almost sixteen, just a few inches shorter than his gorgeous cousin. Time out on the farm that week had tanned his face, and his nose and brow had already started to mature. James was struck for the first time by the possibility that he might have been handsome.

Tony had selected him and torn away the others. In the photo, James was not smiling but he was not glum either. He gave a knowing look to the camera, and he wondered if that was a glimpse of the promise his cousin had noticed.

‘Thank you, Tony.’

A thump on the hull made the Home Free shudder and James heard his father issuing orders. Angered by the unwelcome company, James closed the door to Tony’s room and returned to the kitchen.

‘He’s here,’ Mr Jones said, his face appearing at the top of the ladder, peering into the gloom. ‘You’d better come up and help with the dinghy; your dad won’t listen to me.’

James emerged and danced awkwardly around the unexpected passenger in the confined space by the wheel.

‘Take the line would you, Jamie,’ Dad called from below.

On the second attempt, James caught the wet rope, hauled his father back towards the ladder, and tied it off.

‘Thought you were supposed to be back in the big city,’ Dad said as he reached the top, where there was now even less room. ‘We parked next to Tony’s Ford. That where you spent the night?’

James nodded.

‘If you’d waited and come with us, you could have had a whole room to yourself at Andy’s weekender up on the headland,’ his father said, starting to scan James with his harsh cop eyes.