‘Oh yes? The first or the second?’ Mrs Jenkinson said, as though they’d interrupted something very important.

‘The second,’ Jamie said, and started up his sulking again.

‘You’ve caught me making scones,’ the old girl said, whipping off the apron.

‘Yum,’ Tony said.

No response; he better stay quiet.

‘Father’s out, I’m afraid,’ Mrs Jenkinson said, looking Tony in the eye.

‘I’ve got my dress,’ Leanne said, and the old lady rolled her eyes. ‘We just came to show you Jamie’s idea for the place-names.’

‘Oh, very good,’ the old girl replied. ‘We’ll take a look right here. Anthony, would you head out the back for me and see if Father’s filled the car up yet?’

‘Yeah, will do, Mrs Jenkinson.’

‘You’d better start calling me Merle.’

‘Alright, Merle,’ he said, and laughed. Thankfully, when he pulled at his hair in nervousness, they were all looking at Jamie.

Tony slipped out the short hallway that ran past the laundry. Across the lawn, a white gate gave onto what looked like a long garage, but there was no sign of the old boy. He turned back to the kitchen window. Jamie and Leanne’s mum were already chin-wagging like chooks, waving their arms and holding up the place cards.

He looked the other way, up the hill. The wheat stubble had already been burned, but since the Jenkinsons were mainly in cattle, they only had a few hundred acres of grain close to the house. A bit of fast money. That crop would probably pay for the wedding.

A tap on his shoulder made him turn. Leanne had followed and closed on him, her lips parted. Tony had to bend down a little, and he let his mouth linger for only a moment before patting her on the shoulder.

‘Tomorrow’s our big day,’ she said, right into his ear.

She went for another kiss but he’d already dodged and was looking to see whether the old girl was watching. Sure enough, she was, and Jamie was too.

Shit.

Tony yanked off his tie and went to unbutton his collar as soon as Inverlochy Park disappeared behind the ridge.

‘Get this, would you Jamie?’ he asked, leaning across and pointing to his neck.

His cousin did what he was asked. Tony exhaled and checked the road.

‘Thanks,’ he said, and punched Jamie’s thigh. ‘Great work, with the old lady. You probably impressed her more than I ever will.’

Jamie didn’t seem to see anything funny about that. Tony went quiet for a minute, rolled up each sleeve of his good shirt with one hand still on the wheel, but spotted the red graze from two nights ago and rolled them back into place.