Grinning broadly, Nicole headed to the hardware shop. As she arrived she waved at Trevor, who was helping Mr Greene jam a mower into his car boot. Amy blew spit bubbles in greeting.

Cheryl and Mandy rushed over and happily made a fuss over the baby, taking it in turns to hold her with one arm, all the while continuing to man the counter and scan nails, painting tape, and wooden stakes with the other, chatting to Amy in between serving customers.

When Nicole started to leave she was met with cries of protest. ‘Can’t you stay longer?’ Cheryl pleaded. ‘Playing with this little sweetie sure beats counting screws any day.’

‘Sorry, but I’d better get her back.’ Nicole slipped Amy back into the pouch. ‘She’s been so good; I’m afraid my luck’s going to run out.’

Mandy came out from behind the counter. ‘One last kiss before you go, cutie pie.’

‘Mandy,’ Nicole fanned herself with her free hand, ‘I never knew you felt that way.’ She raised her cheek for a peck.

‘Ha, ha.’ Mandy bent down and kissed Amy on the forehead.

‘Oh,’ Nicole said, turning back before leaving the shop. ‘What do you reckon about post-match celebrations at my place on Sunday?’

‘I reckon great.’

‘I reckon you’re pretty confident they’ll win.’ Cheryl laughed.

‘If not, it will be a commiserations party instead.’ Nicole smiled.

By the time she got back to the post office, Jacqui was awake and looking much brighter.

‘Thank you,’ she said as she took Amy back.

Meandering up Wilson’s Road, Nicole began to sweat, yet the day had cooled. A goanna walked beside her in the gravel, its head bowed, and her stomach churned, her pulse quickened.

A sudden gust of wind made the branches of the gums sag, the burden of their leaves too much to bear under such force. The tiny hairs on the back of her neck tingled. She looked around. No one was following her.

She walked straight past her cottage, something telling her to keep going down the path to the boatshed. Her chest tightened and she picked up her pace, breaking into a jog. With every step she got faster. She ran straight past the open boatshed door to the side of the small building.

Charlie was sitting on the bench, face turned towards the sky, his head resting on the wall behind him, one shoulder dipped down.

Nicole stopped.

She took three deep breaths and walked slowly towards him, squatting beside the bench. She checked his neck and wrist and placed her hand close to his mouth and nose to feel for breath. A futile gesture, she knew. She’d noticed his sunken cheeks, ashen skin and open mouth the second she saw him, and she knew.

She leaned her head against his knee, held his cold hands. ‘Oh, Charlie.’ Great gulps of tears burst forth and she let them come. ‘Goodbye, friend.’