‘It’s great to be able to celebrate yesterday’s glorious win with you all.’

‘Carn the mighty Rangers!’ Greg called out.

‘And can we thank our generous host? Nicole!’

Trevor waited for the next round of cheering and clapping to subside.

‘While this weekend is about winning …’

Another cheer.

‘… the cove also lost, well, one of its icons, I guess, this week. Nicole, would you mind saying a few words about Charlie?’

Nicole was not at all prepared. But all eyes were on her. Including the pair belonging to a tall stranger who’d just come through the gate.

‘I gather most of you didn’t know Charlie too well.’ She searched for fitting words. ‘A lot of you were even frightened of him, I hear.’

A few people shuffled their feet in discomfort.

‘But, I did know him, as well as he let me, and he was a kind, intelligent man, who was a good friend to me at a time in my life when, well, I didn’t have too many friends.’ She looked to Mandy, who tilted her head to the side and raised an eyebrow. ‘Something I’ve come to learn about the people of Rosella Cove is how special they are. Their generosity of spirit is boundless, their friendship is genuine, and I can tell you all that Charlie truly was part of this town. From what I can gather, there are a few among you who also saw glimpses of that in him.’

Mandy was next up and told everyone how Charlie had helped her with her mum, leaving out the more intimate details of her mum’s undignified fall into dementia. Danny told of his encounter in the bush. One by one, half-a-dozen people also came forward and recounted personal moments that painted Charlie in a very different light from that of his reputation.

Nicole smiled broadly and raised her glass.

‘To two fine examples of our wonderful community: to the mighty Rangers and to Charlie.’

The crowd echoed the toast.

‘That was lovely,’ Mandy said. ‘He’d have hated it, but it was really nice.’

The tall stranger picked his way through the pockets of happy people until he was standing in front of Nicole and Mandy.

‘Excuse me,’ he said. ‘Sorry to crash your party. You must be Nicole Miller.’ He extended his hand. ‘Mr Dixon said I’d find you here.’

‘Oh, hi.’ Nicole shook his hand, his grip firm. ‘That’s dedication for you. Working on a Sunday.’

‘Working?’ Confusion read across his face.

‘Mr Dixon sent you. From Dixon and Doyle. Charlie’s lawyers.’

‘Oh, no.’ The man shook his head. ‘I mean yes. They are Charlie’s lawyers. But I’m not.’

‘You’re not?’

‘No. Sorry.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I should start again. My name’s Dr James Baker. I’m Charlie’s son.’

Thirty-eight

Nicole dropped her glass.

‘Sorry?’