‘Gidday, sunshine. How’s your day been?’ Maggie wandered into my room. Well, it was my room in name only. In reality, it was still the domain of its previous occupant, the talented Caitlin, as evidenced by the array of skiing posters and paraphernalia adorning every available space on the walls. There was also a significant display of trophies, medals and silverware on the bookshelf, testament to the high level of achievement the Kershaw girls had attained in their chosen sport. Caitlin’s twin, also a world-class skier, had a similar overachiever look happening in her room. On the plus side, Caitlin and Lisette had achieved the ultimate of earning sports scholarships to the University of Colorado, so not only did their parents avoid having to pay a small ransom for their tertiary education and ongoing sports costs, they no longer had to be the long-suffering, but supportive taxi service to every freezing-cold, ice-ridden and accessible-only-by-goat-track ski field in the country. I didn’t do skiing. As far as I was concerned, snow was just a damned nuisance that, when I was home on the farm, always came at just the right time to kill off the lambs and cut off the electricity. If pressed, I’d consent to building a snowman, but I failed to see the fascination.

It wasn’t all skiing, skiing, skiing for the girls though. This room had a corner shrine devoted to Brad Pitt. Apparently, even teenage sportaholics had hormones.

‘Well, my day started off well, deteriorated by noon and degraded into the truly tedious by mid-afternoon,’ I eventually replied with a half-suppressed yawn.

‘It was one better than mine then, which skipped the starting off well bit and jumped directly to tedium.’ Maggie plonked herself down on the bed.

‘After all that time looking forward to being a student, the reality bites, huh?’

‘No, no, I’m loving it, actually. It’s just this morning’s lab seemed a little dull for a gal who’s spent her working life playing with microscopes, animal body parts and cool electronic equipment. Their idea of a lab and mine are a little bit different. I’m sure it will improve as we get further into the course.’

Maggie had ditched the bright lights of the meat-processing plant at Mataura for a change in direction and further education at the University of Otago. She was indulging her fascination for human behaviour and studying psychology. I had no idea what she meant to do with it when she’d finished, but for now, she’d escaped her former trapped-in-rural-purgatory life for the big smoke – Dunedin, or Dunners as she affectionately referred to the place. I must admit to having been tempted by some of the courses on offer myself, but the extra papers I had to do for detective training kept me more than busy enough.

‘You studying tonight?’ I asked, as I pulled some clothes out of the wardrobe.