During one of the final outings when the old woman accompanied the family, she described the differences between wilderness and city skies and how they affected the world. Then seven or eight years old, Clare had peevishly scuffed the sand with her bare toes as Gran rattled on about “human light pollution” and how sea turtles and dung beetles relied on “pristine night skies for navigation.” Images of lumbering turtles and beetles were one thing, but when Gran started up about how the combination of the darkness and silence was a good time to “contemplate how immense the universe was,” Clare had groaned out loud. She was certain that Angus and Linda would’ve guzzled all the marshmallows by the time she got back to the campfire. The moment Gran gazed upwards, still rambling on, Clare scampered away.

Now, at the tap, Clare tipped back her head as she rinsed her mouth. Was that the Southern Cross? She’d ask her father what had happened to his mother’s astronomy books.

“Are you sure you want to sleep out here alone?”

Wearing running shorts and a t-shirt featuring a faded, eighties-style surfing logo, Derek wore no shoes, and his thin legs were pale.

“Yes,” said Clare.

“You’re not afraid?”

“Why would I be?”

He put his hands on his hips and leaned his long, narrow torso towards her. “Baboons,” he whispered. She smelt toothpaste on his breath. “Didn’t you hear them barking when we arrived?”

“I did, but they’re unlikely to move around at night.”

“Ah, because of the leopards,” he said, continuing his cartoonish performance. Clare felt embarrassed on his behalf.

“That’s a myth,” she said. “Leopards rarely prey on baboons. They, the monkeys, move about in large groups and fight back viciously. Anyway, the baboons in this area are not habituated. They’re unlikely to approach while we’re here.”

“Ha! Geoff taught you well.”

She gave a half shrug and turned to go, not bothering to say that it was her grandmother, not her father, who had explained the habits of leopards and baboons to her. Derek walked with her.

“It’s nice to have you along,” he said. “We don’t see much of you anymore now that you’re all grown up.”

Clare didn’t respond as she closed her backpack.

He looked around. “You’re right. It’s lovely out here. Perhaps I’ll bring my mattress outside, too.”

“Derek?” It was Faye from the doorway of the hut. “Are you coming?”

He hesitated and opened his mouth as if to say something to his wife, but sighed instead.

“Sleep well,” he said, walking away.