‘He took her name! What a thing, eh? Whatever he were called afore he were happy to be a Parker if it meant keeping the name of her faither on the deeds. Parker’s Farm it were and is still and he’s made a profitable business, like I said. Quiet man but kind and though you don’t see Audrey smile over much there’s a happiness in her that weren’t there when she were young. No children but they works so hard they’ve probably no time.’

I rubbed my lip and realized how still I had been holding myself. My joints were aching. I’d been cold too many times. Shivering, I glanced back down at the mess of papers. The words looked like so many squashed lice: a jumble of scrawls all scribbled in the same hand.

‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier,’ I said. ‘You must be going blind.’

Felicity sucked at her teeth, rolling her eyes. ‘Wouldn’t have made a difference, even with a big brain you need to be able to read the writing and I swear Fairfax has just done this to give me a headache. I’ve tried as well as I can to put it into order but there’s no headings and it’s only when I can make out a word that I’ve been able to make any kind of system. That pile by your feet seems to be the earliest stuff. It’s in pencil and the handwriting makes some kind of sense. It’s neat and there are initials. I reckon I’ve worked most of ’em out. Armstrong. Irthing. Sawyer, Lightfoot. Some of ’em have gone but others are still alive and I don’t suppose many of them will be worrying about their secrets being shared. It’s all just memories of school and the jobs they used to do and their mothers and faithers giving them a hiding for this or that. Just pages of how lovely things used to be, though I’ve no doubt when I’m old I’ll say the same about now.’

‘Right, well, that’s a start …’

‘Middle pile have the occasional date on them. Maybe ten years ago. Chats with the navvies, the lads who drained the bog, the charvers who built the base. Lots of people talking about how times are looking up and there’s good money to be made and wouldn’t it be a thing if it were true what people were saying – that Gilsland would be a terminus for the moon.’

‘That lot?’ I asked, pointing at the most chaotic of the piles.