Mum nodded, and got back to work on clearing the noticeboards.

‘Doris has got the key, hasn’t she, Sal?’ Grandma said.

‘Yes,’ Mrs Beaumont said, removing her apron and rolling it up into a string bag.

‘Well, you’d better give me a lift then, if you wouldn’t mind?’

‘Right you are, Gladys.’

‘Show me this family tree, Jamie,’ Grandma said, making for the place where James was gathering the sheets into one pile. ‘Cousin Norman thinks I don’t know anything about it, but I can remember your grandfather used to talk about old Sarah Brandt. She was on the same ship as her husband, only she was in the hold and he was not, do you see? Once they were on Australian soil, she was pardoned after a while, and they married. Cousin Norman reckons all the Brandts back in England were shocked to their boots, but he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,’ she said, as she waved her stick over the names. ‘They would never have even known, and why should they? Sarah Brandt bore him seven children and nursed her husband until the day he died. Who cares what she did before? I don’t. Your Grandfather didn’t, and none of you kids should either. Every single one of us has done something we’re ashamed of,’ she said, and her lips trembled. ‘It can be a hard life up in this country. It’s not for everyone, but we don’t have to make it worse by calling anyone a convict.’

She’d let the word go softly.

‘They should have buried her next to her husband, but we don’t know where they put her.’

‘Why?’ James said.

‘The stigma,’ Grandma whispered.

‘What’s that mean?’

‘It’s a kind of shame,’ Grandma said, planting her stick and holding James by the shoulder as the rattle of the servery door rolling shut hammered the point home. ‘Right then, we’re off. See you in the next school holidays, I suppose,’ she added, running a hand quickly across the back of Mum’s arm, the other finger on her lip as though there was plenty more to say, but no time, willingness, or use. Things were the way they were, and the hall had been left as it should be.

At the crossroads, Mum accelerated past the pub and only seemed to breathe easier after they crossed the Kippen Bridge, heading for Deloraine.

‘I bought some new tapes on the way up,’ she said. ‘Put one on if you like.’

He shrugged, so she pushed one into the player with a crunch and upbeat jazz burst into life.

‘Did you have a nice time, Jamie?’

He shrugged again, which made her look.

‘You didn’t want to go to the pub with your dad, did you?’

He shook his head, uttering a dismissive grunt.