‘We’ll organise the undertaker to deal with ’im,’ Amos said in his matter-of-fact tone. ‘If ’e’s the only death, then we did well.’

They rode in silence through the devastated landscape. Now the drama had passed, exhaustion caught up with Adelaide. Her limbs had turned to lead. Her fingers, numb from gripping Penrose’s belt, had no strength and she slumped against his back, hardly able to keep her eyes open. He shifted in the saddle, causing her to start awake.

‘If you fall asleep, Adelaide, you’re going to slide off the horse,’ he warned.

But as they crested the last ridge and Maiden’s Creek came into view, the gentle movement of the horse had begun to lull her into semiconsciousness. She had only the vaguest recollection of the ride down the main street of Maiden’s Creek, of the cheers of the townspeople. Only the cessation of movement jerked her fully awake and she registered that they had stopped outside the post office.

‘Adelaide.’

She raised her head and smiled at Caleb’s filthy, unshaven face. She slid from the back of Penrose’s sturdy gelding into Caleb’s arms. She put her arms around his neck and leaned her head against his chest, breathing in the odour of smoke and unwashed male.

He carried her into the house and lay her on the day bed in the parlour.

‘Take the boy through to his bedroom,’ she heard him say.

‘I must—’ Adelaide started to rise but he pushed her back.

‘There’s nothing useful you can do. Leave him to Netty and I.’

‘He needs me.’

‘I only need Netty. You’ve done enough.’

Netty’s familiar round face came into view. ‘You just lie quiet. Sissy, where’s that tea?’

‘Sissy?’ Adelaide murmured. ‘What’s she doing here?

‘I’m here to help,’ the girl said. ‘You’ll feel better after this.’

Adelaide pulled herself up and drank the tea down in one gulp. Sissy handed her another cup and a tray bearing a plate with a large slice of egg and bacon pie.

Revived by the food, Adelaide stood up and limped over to Danny’s bedroom door. Her son lay propped up on the pillows, his face too grimy to check his pallor, but he turned to look at her. His eyes seemed sunken into his skull and gleamed unnaturally brightly, but a shaky smile caught the corners of his mouth.

Netty stood at Caleb’s elbow, holding a basin in one hand and bandages in the other.

Caleb did not look up. ‘You should be resting.’

‘Never underestimate the restorative power of tea,’ she said. ‘Are you hungry, Danny?’

‘A bit.’

Netty set the basin down on the chest of drawers. ‘First we’re going to give you a proper wash and get you into your nightshirt, young man. I’m going to have to change those sheets,’ she said. She looked up at Adelaide. ‘As for you …’