There was an adventurous feel to the place, an excitement and a buzzing of expectation, and despite his tiredness from the five-hour drive, he could feel the effect lifting his mood. And the smiling Indigenous woman at check-in with her brown eyes crinkled in good humour and the expansive wave of her arm towards his room left him with a definite feeling of welcome.

He climbed the stairs to the Rock View Room he’d requested, a recommendation he’d taken from Ava. On opening his door, he could see why she’d pushed him to be specific. The room itself was fine, an upscale hotel room in desert reds and greens, but it was the view that drew him through the screen door onto the small balcony.

Across the road, and across the far red desert, past the rocks and low, scrubby desert foliage, Uluru sat grandly in the distance as it had sat for millennia. Drawing the eye with a subtle power and insistence that kept his eyes roving over the shadows and lines of the face. He’d go there soon.

First, he dropped in to the medical centre where George had said he’d almost died, and one of the nurses there made a fuss of him. Actually, she became quite animated about how agitated and critical he’d been and remembered the smoking ceremony the traditional healer had performed. Ava had mentioned that briefly and now he wished he’d asked more at the time. The nurse kept touching his arm as if reassuring herself he was real, and he had to laugh, which he was severely reprimanded for as ‘it’s no laughing matter’. Ava’s name came up a lot and he found himself growing wistful the more he heard it.

He left there and drove the twenty-five kilometres out to Uluru, stared in awe, walked a little way along the winding base walk path, and when he could, at different sections, he ran his fingers along the rough surface of the rock, but the magic wasn’t working for him. All he felt was loss and being lost.

He drove back to the resort and sat in his room, out on the verandah, and contemplated the rock in the distance as he remembered his time at Setabilly and how much more interesting this would be if Ava were with him.

The next day, he drove to the cultural centre in the shadow of the monolith. He examined the history wall and marvelled over the artefacts and artwork, which seemed to draw him in. A tall woman with glowing ebony skin rose from her seat where she’d been creating a dot painting and came across to him.

‘Zac. Welcome back to Uluru.’ She held out her hand. ‘You don’t remember me. I’m Denise. Ava’s friend. I was there when the twins were born and the night they brought you in from the accident.’