Eloise blew her nose hard and stood up. “I’m sorry, Natalie. I always seem to be crying on your shoulder. It was tricky with Emile today. His lack of English makes some lessons harder than others, and Tabitha wet her pants again. The other kids noticed before I did and a few of the boys teased her and it took me ages to get everyone back on track then Paul came in.” She took a deep breath.

“Try not to think of him as judging you. He understands how difficult teaching can be some days.” Natalie spoke with an authority she didn’t feel. She wasn’t sure Paul did understand but she didn’t want to undermine him or Eloise.

It was after four and Eloise had dried her tears and gone back to pack up her own room when Natalie’s mobile phone rang from the bottom of her basket. She turned back in surprise from the whiteboard she’d been cleaning. She usually kept the phone on silent. Thank goodness it hadn’t rung during class time.

“Terry was only ringing to say the damned rolls of pipe and wire had arrived.” Milt’s voice bellowed from the speaker before she’d even said hello.

“Hello, Milt. How was your day?” she said gently.

“One stuff-up after another,” he grumbled but at least his tone had dropped a few decibels. “What about you?”

“Yes, all good here.” Her day in the classroom had gone particularly well until Paul’s visit and then Eloise’s tears.

“Do you think you could collect the pipe and wire when you get the other stuff on the list?”

“Yes.”

Her phone beeped softly. She glanced at the screen. There was another call but an unknown number. “I’ll see you tonight,” she said and accepted the next call.

“Mrs Natalie King?”

“Yes.”

“Mrs King, I’m ringing from the breast care centre. Last week you had a mammogram at one of our mobile clinics.”

Natalie’s mouth went dry. “Yes.”

“An anomaly has been found and we would like you to come to Adelaide for further investigation.”

“An anomaly?” What did that mean? Was it a lump? She put a hand to one breast and then the other. Which one was it? She’d fronted up to the travelling bus for her two-yearly mammogram last week feeling confident there was nothing to find. She knew the drill; she checked herself regularly, her breasts weren’t dense, she hadn’t felt any lumps, there was no family history, she’d breastfed her three daughters, each for longer than a year. How could there be anything left in there when they squeezed her breasts so flat? She felt sick in her stomach and fear gripped her heart.

“I realise you live in the country, Mrs King, but can you be here by tomorrow afternoon?”

“Tomorrow?”

“We like to call people back quickly…so they don’t worry.”