As the afternoon fell, the last lick of paint went on, and they started cleaning up. Jim and Cheryl took charge of washing out the brushes and rollers, Mandy folded up the drop sheets. Danny packed the paint away. Within minutes they were all done, each with a cooler bag of leftovers to take home.

Nicole hugged Cheryl at the door. ‘Thank you.’

‘What are mates for?’ Trevor gave her a kiss on the cheek and jumped down the verandah steps.

‘Act your age,’ Mandy called after her husband, embracing Nicole before following him.

Danny was the last to leave. He lingered at the front door making small talk, clearly not wanting to go.

She didn’t want him to leave, either. But she was exhausted. And if he stayed she’d have to tell him everything now. But she still didn’t know how to do it.

‘Would you … maybe we could have a picnic tomorrow?’ she suggested. She had to get this over and done with. ‘We can make a dent in all those leftovers.’

Danny laughed. ‘Sounds like a plan.’

He kissed her softly on the cheek and walked off into the dusk.

It was amazing the difference the finished paint job made to the place. A mix of joy and sadness washed over her. It was like home. But once the outside was finished, she’d have to find somewhere else to live. Even if that was in Rosella Cove, it wouldn’t be Ivy’s cottage.

The thought was daunting, but she knew she’d be okay. Nothing could ever be as hard as starting over after she left Mark. Nothing could ever be as hard as leaving Mark.

This was just a fork in the road.

There was still twenty minutes of daylight left, so Nicole went for a walk along the peninsula. It was her favourite time of day – she loved the way the soft light bounced off the trees, bathing everything around in a pale yellow glow, the scores of rosellas flitting from tree to tree to find their evening rest spot. She loved the sense it gave that one day was behind you and another one, a fresh one, was just around the corner.

She passed the boatshed on the way back home and saw Charlie’s light on. She sighed at the thought of him in there all alone.

Coming up the path, Nicole could hear music wafting on the breeze from the cottage. Which was strange, given she didn’t own a stereo. Maybe Danny couldn’t wait for their picnic.

She quickened her step, but as she reached the verandah she realised what the music was, and stopped dead.

No. No, no, no. She tried to run but fear filled her feet with lead.

Adele’s husky tones wafted through the door, familiar lyrics assaulting her ears.

Thirty