Ivy’s grey hair was long and wild. Nicole, for some reason, had pictured it neat. She wore a flowing gypsy skirt and peasant blouse in bright blue. This didn’t fit with the Ivy of well-tailored clothes and prim and proper manners that she’d imagined from the letters. The woman wore no shoes, and her bare feet peeked out from under the layers of her skirt.

In the background of the photo, where the blurred gum trees stood tall, she thought she could make out the dark shadow of a man leaning against one of the trunks.

Could that be …? Nicole could no longer fight the persistent curiosity bubbling inside. She did, however, manage to fight the urge to pull out her notebook and write down the thousand questions flashing through her mind.

‘Here’s another one of Ivy.’ Mandy handed Nicole a photo. Ivy was obviously in it by accident; she was clearly passing by while Mandy’s mum was in the main part of the frame fussing over Mandy and her two brothers standing outside the post office in town.

‘We were heading to someone’s birthday or something in that one, I think,’ Mandy offered as Nicole studied the picture. ‘Dad was trying to get a family shot, but apparently we weren’t being all that cooperative.’

Nicole was transfixed by the image.

‘I hope these help. From what I remember the picnics were held once a month after the Sunday service. The whole town would go. I was only a baby when they started.’

Nicole reached across and patted Mandy’s arm. ‘Thanks for this. It’s brilliant.’

‘As I said, I hope they help.’ Mandy shrugged. She started drumming her fingers on the side of her chair and tapping her foot.

Nicole continued to scrutinise the photos.

‘Okay, Nicole. Time to spill the beans,’ Mandy blurted out.

‘Sorry?’

‘This interest in Ivy Wilson? It’s got nothing to do with the house. Something else is going on. If I knew what you were looking for maybe I could be better help. Otherwise I don’t know what needle I’m searching for in the bloomin’ haystack.’

Nicole looked Mandy in the eye. ‘There’s …’ She wanted to tell Mandy the truth about the letters, talk it over and find out more, but she wasn’t sure what it all added up to yet.

‘If you’re researching for another book, maybe I could help. That would be so much fun.’ Mandy’s eyes lit up. ‘Oh, please say yes. I can just see myself as a research assistant to a famous author.’

Nicole held back a laugh. Even the most famous writers she knew did their own research. Mandy’s view of authors was charming, if not entirely correct.

‘Oh, no. It’s nothing like that.’ Nicole’s curiosity may have been piqued, but writing again was another matter entirely. ‘It’s just …’