Nicole tried to be of use to them – she handed them tools, helped hold pieces of wood in place – but in the end she was just in the way. They didn’t say anything to that effect, but she could tell.

The best thing she could do for them was make herself scarce.

She wandered around the garden, perhaps there was something there she could do. No. Jack had that completely under control. Section by section he was turning the mess of shrubs and grass and weeds into something that looked presentable. He would have some good photos for his TAFE portfolio soon. Not having to pay for the kitchen installation meant Nicole could use the stipend to buy the turf, and it wouldn’t be long now till that could be laid and Jack could start putting in some plants.

She went out to the front gate to look at the cottage in its entirety. The inside might well be coming along nicely, and the yard, but there was still the exterior. How on earth was she going to tackle that? Would she even have enough time? Her first couple of months at the cove had gone by so fast. It wouldn’t be long now till her lease was up. She wondered if there was any option to extend it. Probably not, if they wanted it sold.

Nicole’s stomach tightened at the thought of having to move on after her time here. She’d have to start looking for a house-sit soon, she guessed. Line something up so she had somewhere to go.

Staring at the cottage was not exactly doing wonders for her mood, so she turned around and headed down the peninsula.

As she passed the boatshed she saw Charlie sitting on one of the deckchairs, looking out at the sea.

‘Morning,’ she called.

He turned around and nodded in greeting.

‘I’ve been kicked out while they do the kitchen.’ She laughed.

‘So you thought you’d come and annoy me?’

Nicole shrugged. ‘Or go for a walk.’

‘You do that a lot. Walk.’ Charlie got up and pulled out the other deckchair, motioning for her to sit, then went into the boatshed.

He returned a few seconds later with his Scrabble board, and lifted it up to show her, raising an eyebrow.

‘Why not?’ Nicole smiled.

The morning passed in gentle silence. Every now and then Charlie would sprout a fact prompted by a word played – shrew, eleven points, eat eighty per cent of their own body weight a day – and Nicole would try to counter with the next move. Wattle, thirteen points, genus acacia.

As they packed up the game, Nicole tripped on the deckchair.

‘Stumble, thirteen points, you lose.’ The hint of a smile touched Charlie’s lips.

‘Ha, ha.’ Nicole smiled. ‘You think you’re very funny, don’t you?’

He shrugged.