He kicked a rock and it skidded across the road and disappeared into the bush. ‘Well, I was lucky and she wasn’t,’ he said. ‘She never woke up. I respected her parents’ wishes for prolonged life support, but I hated it.’

‘She’s at rest now.’

He nodded and glanced back at the tree and its marker. ‘And I share a story of loss with those little crosses all over Australia. I’m not special for being there.’

‘Were you hurt?’

‘Barely. But Roslyn’s head injury was obvious. Frontal lobe.’ He blinked rapidly and she put her hand out to steady him as he swayed. His face drained of colour until it was as white as the cross at the roadside.

‘Enough walking,’ she said and steered him until he leaned against the car.

‘I’m sorry. I’ll never lose that picture. Everything went dark for a minute there.’

‘We walked too far.’ Or grief could do odd things. She opened the door and nudged him to sit. ‘Do me a favour and have a drink. You’re an interesting shade of pale.’

‘Sorry,’ he said again as she closed his door.

Shock from his recent accident combined with grief, Ava thought as she climbed in and started the engine. She’d been there. She thought of the flawlessness of her infant daughter, Amelia, as she lay in her tiny white coffin. Pale-pink lace around her alabaster face of unmoving perfection. Cold porcelain fingers that lay still and straight against her own trembling palm.

That picture would never leave her, either. She’d never shared it. Yet now seemed a good time. ‘Five years ago, I lost my daughter, Amelia. She was ten weeks premature, and by the time I was flown to Alice we couldn’t stop the labour. She died from necrotising enterocolitis. The lining of her bowel was just too injured when we started the feeding and she passed away at six weeks.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. She didn’t look to see his expression, but she heard understanding in his voice. ‘You’ve known loss.’

Well, he would understand, wouldn’t he? ‘She was perfect,’ she said softly. ‘My family were amazing. It took me six months before I could go back to work and twelve before I could go back to midwifery. But I’ve found peace. And I wouldn’t change it to avoid having gone through the pain if it meant not meeting her – even for that brief time.’

There was silence for a minute, then he said, ‘And the baby’s father?’