From inside the hire car, James saw the Kippen pub looming above the street, with its upper-story verandah casting a deepening shadow over the long row of parked vehicles. He recognised Yvonne and Pete’s four-wheel drive, so he knew there’d be somewhat friendly faces inside, but he waited until a group of men in suits entered the main door before marching in, prepared to act like he owned the place.

In the foyer, a choice confronted him: the women’s bar on the left and the public bar on the right.

The spineless shell opted for the left.

Yvonne was sitting at the bar chatting to Pete, and when she noticed James she smiled. That was something, James thought, so he approached them, ready to make some kind of amends for disinheriting them.

‘Hi, mate,’ Pete said, looking like he wanted to get away.

‘Want a glass of my wine?’ Yvonne asked, sounding a bit slurred.

‘You’re wasting your time in here,’ Pete said. ‘They only serve this side if they’re not busy in the public bar. If you want a drink, you’ll have to come through with me,’ he added, and disappeared the way James had entered.

At the other end of the room, James noticed Doris and Leanne sitting in a booth, the little girls asleep in the one adjacent. Light from the street poured through the high windows and picked up both women’s hats.

‘My husband doesn’t like it when I drink,’ Yvonne said, leaning over the bar and retrieving a grubby cocktail glass. ‘This’ll do,’ she said, and poured it full of white wine. ‘When are you coming up to stay with us, city slicker?’

‘Oh, you know, when I get some time off,’ James said.

‘Well, make sure you do. We’ve got plenty of spare room,’ she said.

‘Listen Yvonne, I don’t think I’ll ever go back to Queensland.’

She dropped her gaze to her lap. ‘I know.’

‘They’re not that friendly out your way to people like me, you know?’

‘What, journalists?’ Yvonne asked, looking up with a glazed expression. ‘Nobody cares what you do up there, they only care where you fit in. Which family, which property. Whatever!’ she added, and paused on a pensive look. ‘You could bring someone with you. I’d be really pleased to see you settled, as long as you found someone who made you happy.’

Straight advice on gay dating scene.

Before James’s bum could hit the stool next to hers, Yvonne grabbed him by the arm and led him between the empty tables to the booths. Doris noticed them coming and turned her head midway through a sentence.

‘Leanne, you remember Jamie Brandt?’ Yvonne said.

‘Yes,’ Leanne said, dipping her chin and looking up. ‘Hello James.’

‘Leanne married Ian Taylor last year,’ Yvonne said. ‘They’re on five thousand acres of cotton, not quite over the border.’