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He laughed. ‘What impeccable timing. It’s so rarely on schedule, it must be you. And here’s the station again,’ he said, as they neared a hut.

‘It’s even smaller than it appeared last night.’

He grinned. ‘You know we have horse races, dances, concerts, fairs, tennis, bowls . . . We have hotels, a library, even an underground forge. We have schools and churches. You name it. It all goes on.’

‘I didn’t mean to suggest—’

‘I know,’ he said, smiling. ‘I’m just proud to be from here, that’s all.’

‘And they’re all very proud of you, John. Thank you for being so kind to me yesterday Your whole family is lovely and so generous.’

‘Mum’s a bit of a handful at times, but she’s very good for the town, always pushing hard to improve things around here as best she can.’ At Fleur’s nod, he continued. ‘I know she gave you the impression that she—’

Fleur squeezed his arm. ‘No need to explain. I’m not offended. I’m a modern woman with broad shoulders and I can handle the pursed lips of the previous generation. I didn’t plan this, John; life’s just gone a little crooked for me, that’s all.’ She gave him a hug, keeping it deliberately brief so she wouldn’t cry.

The rattle of timber and the screech of iron combined with clouds of steam to announce the train’s arrival. She could taste the metal of the engine and the tracks. People were hanging out of the windows and calling out to others at the station, passing on messages from family and friends. Bursts of laughter and whistles to catch attention were all part of the cacophony.

Men rushed up with bags of mail and other product to be loaded, while passengers alighted or stepped on board alongside Fleur. She found a seat and lowered the window to say a final farewell to her friend.

‘What will you do?’ John asked.

Fleur smiled more bravely than she felt, adding a breezy tone she certainly wasn’t feeling. ‘What I know . . . back to Adelaide and the business.’ She put a hand on her belly. ‘And what will be, will be.’ She reached her other hand out to squeeze his. ‘Happy flying. Good luck, John.’

‘You too,’ he responded, squeezing it back. ‘I hope . . .’ He trailed off, unable to find the right words.

She nodded. ‘I know. Now, go . . . get back to Eva or she’ll have something to say. High tea and all that!’

He laughed aloud. ‘She’s unstoppable.’

Fleur waved and John reluctantly turned away, slowly loping back in the direction they’d come from. Fleur deliberately avoided staring out wistfully at the desert, reminding her of what might have been. She pulled out a book and was determined to lose herself. She did not wish to speak to anyone, so she hoped the book and her focused attention, even if she didn’t take in a single word, would dissuade anyone from striking up a conversation. She was grateful that today, at least, she was not feeling the familiar nausea.

A baby. If she was honest, it was privately exciting and something to look forward to, even without Tom. She would raise her child with love and all the tenderness that Mae and Henry had raised her with. She had the means to give her child anything that was needed in life and for that alone, Fleur knew she should be grateful.

Her baby would want for nothing, except its father.

And she would want for nothing except its father too.

Tears stung but she would not let them fall. She opened the book and blinked them away. Absently she heard whistles, doors banging and an increase in the sound of the engine revving to be on its way.

A man and presumably his son sat opposite her. She couldn’t avoid the eye contact, so she smiled.

‘Good morning,’ the man said, lifting his hat and then removing it to his lap.

Fleur looked at the boy; he was probably twelve. ‘Hello,’ she said.

‘Dad says the train struggles to get up the hill and out of Farina,’ he said, by way of introduction. ‘I’m Billy.’

Fleur grinned, then glanced at the father, who shrugged and said, ‘It’s true. You might have felt it on the way into Farina – it all but coasts down the hill after a struggle to get to the top just before it reaches town.’

‘I came in late last night and I have to admit I didn’t notice because I was so tired.’

‘That’s a quick visit.’ He raised his brows, opening a question but she didn’t answer it.

‘Yes, very,’ she said, dipping her gaze.

‘Well, the point is, we don’t always get up the first time,’ he said. ‘I think Billy’s hoping that happens.’

‘I am . . . Hey, Dad, can we go more to the front to look out?’