Miki helped to collect the paper plates stained with tomato sauce, sausage packs, napkins, dented drink cans. It amazed her people could be so disgusting. Whoever had done this must have come to enjoy this beautiful place, and it would have taken quite some effort to get here, forty minutes on a dirt road. Then they’d left their trash behind—it didn’t make sense.

Leon lugged the rubbish and tossed it into the back of the Toyota, then he lifted out the tin of paint and the brushes. ‘All right. Time to tackle these toilets.’

The toilet walls were splashed with graffiti. Greenies Go Home, Greens Cost Jobs and Fuck Off Green Cunts in red capital letters. Miki was embarrassed but Leon didn’t seem fazed. ‘It’s a spray-paint job,’ he explained. ‘A can of paint makes anyone an artist.’ He paused. ‘I think I know who might have done it …’

Miki thought she had a fair idea as well.

‘I reckon it was probably Mooney,’ Leon said. ‘He’s struck with his spray can before … He painted my car.’

‘I think he wrecked our beehives too. In the forest.’

Leon shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t surprise me.’

‘He’s not a nice man.’

‘No.’ Leon was short. ‘He belts Liz. I’ve spoken to Toby about it. Hopefully things will change.’

Miki hoped so too. She thought of Liz’s sad eyes, that scared-rabbit look as if she was being hunted. Someone like Mooney could do that to you. He could make you live in fear.

Leon used a screwdriver to open the paint tin then mixed the paint using a broken-off stick. The paint was bottle-green, perfect for blending with the landscape. They got to work, dipping their brushes and running them up and down the walls of the toilet block.

‘What’s it like living with Kurt?’ Leon asked. ‘It can’t be easy.’

‘He’s good most of the time.’

Leon chuckled. ‘I reckon it’d be like living with a tiger. Fine so long as you keep him fed and make sure you don’t stir the pot. Hard going if you let him get hungry or do something he doesn’t like.’

Miki had never thought of Kurt as a tiger; she’d always thought of him as more of a bear. But perhaps Leon was right.

‘Where is he today?’ Leon asked. ‘I assume he’s not in the shop.’

Heat flushed Miki’s cheeks. ‘No, he’s gone to Hobart.’

Leon paused to look at her, his eyes sympathetic. ‘Do you need more time to get out?’

She bent quickly to dip her brush in the paint. ‘I’m out now,’ she murmured. ‘Making hay while the sun shines … painting while the rain holds off.’