‘That’s when your father first thought about going into the police force,’ she said as she turned and called the dog.

When it didn’t come, but sat panting at a distance, James witnessed her falter. She clicked her finger to interest the dog, and muttered, ‘Go down to your dad’s, or come back to Deloraine. It’s up to you.’

But she hadn’t actually answered any of his questions about stealing, and as she wandered back along the lane, it seemed as though everything she had said was designed to prevent her ever having to answer him.

James watched his mother and the dog walk all the way back along the road and turn into Deloraine’s driveway.

By the time he followed as far as the top of the drive, the sun had reached the horizon and a damp scent rising off the creek caught in his nostrils. To escape it, he decided to find a way into his grandparents’ old house and spend the night there. He took a few purposeful steps up the slope towards Glen Alpine, but the sight of the last sunlight slipping off the empty homestead removed every shred of his determination, and he turned back.

When he stepped carefully across Deloraine’s cattle grid he could see Yvonne showing off her flower girl dress while his mother and aunt encouraged her to parade up and down the enclosed verandah.

The dogs were quiet on their chains, which meant there’d be no sign of Uncle Bill. James sat by them and put an arm over each. The younger kelpie gingerly licked at his jaw. The old dog seemed to know that all James required was a calm welcome.

But the scrape of the screen door made them all lie prone as the beam from a torch swung across the wide driveway.

One of the dogs grizzled, and the spotlight bathed them all with stark light.

‘Jamie, get up,’ Tony said and flicked the torch off.

The young dog relaxed. The old one surrendered more slowly, eyes on the farmer.

‘Everything’s alright,’ his cousin said. ‘Just come inside.’

When James quietly closed the screen door behind him, the evening news was on the television in the living room, and he could smell dinner.

Aunty Doris and Yvonne were setting the table. Tony ripped a cork out of a wine bottle and his mother let out a cry of approval. Even Uncle Bill tore himself away from the weather report and welcomed his nephew with a smile.

‘Drink, Aunty Beck?’ Tony asked, pouring her one.

‘Take it with you and run a bath,’ Aunty Doris said. ‘There’s time, I’m just doing steak and veggies, and I’ve got some of those vegetarian sausages for you, Jamie,’ she added. ‘Your mother brought them up, but I’ve made a special gravy to go with them.’

Tony winked and said: ‘Wanna beer, mate?’

James looked to his mother.