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‘Well, I don’t know. It’s such a strange word.’

‘It’s ancient Greek – I’m sure you can guess that much.’

She stared back at him, loving him even more for being interesting, for knowing something she didn’t and for not being boorish or boastful about it. ‘All right, but what does it mean?’

‘It means river horse.’

‘Ah.’ She sighed, full of wonder. ‘I like that. What else do you know about hippos?’

‘You should never get between a mother hippo and her calf. Mothers have been known to kill lions, crush crocodiles and bite them in half, if her baby is threatened.’

‘I knew I liked them for a reason.’ She chuckled. ‘Most mothers feel the same way about their young.’

Tom grinned. ‘You’re going to make a great mother.’ He kissed the top of her head fondly and Fleur, who’d never allowed herself to dream about motherhood because she’d not met the right person, felt the rush of a strange new pleasure at the mention of it. The joy of that thought . . . to be a mother. How extraordinary and wonderful at once.

The sound of complaining metal announced the arrival of the miniature train, whose diesel engine had been designed and built by zoo staff. It eased around the corner, passing them to deposit another pile of families excited to see Newsboy.

‘We’d better let others get to the front,’ Fleur suggested, breaking out of her happy thoughts, and they moved on. ‘We’ve got two ageing lions remaining and some tigers here too – two parents and three cubs . . . all grown up, though.’

‘Is that the giraffe house?’ Tom pointed, laughing at the height of the enclosure they were approaching.

‘No giraffes at the moment, sadly. Our last one died a few years ago and, before you ask, we don’t have any rhinos – but we want one. I imagine it’s a case of remaining patient. We do have two female polar bears and some sun bears, though.’

They walked around the full circumference of the zoo, holding hands, smiling affectionately at excited children and being amazed by everything from the incredible pink of the flamingos to the shagginess of a new llama baby. The day was neither warm nor cold, but it wasn’t windy either, so Fleur was glad she hadn’t saddled herself with a coat to lug around. Besides, she was sure if she felt suddenly chilled, Tom wouldn’t think twice about taking off his jacket and placing it around her shoulders.

The more time she spent with Tom, the more Fleur began to enjoy the comfortable silences between them and how unaware he was of all the women’s glances that sliced his way and lingered. She allowed herself to privately enjoy their envy.

‘Last night you promised to tell me about your ambitions, Fleur . . . I’m keen to hear them.’

‘I’ve not spoken this aloud, other than alluding to it with Dad, but it seems easy to say it to you.’ She smiled. ‘I want to open the first all-female undertaking business in Australia.’ As they continued walking, enjoying the sunshine and pleasant noise of the crowds, she explained her rationale in a similar way to how she had presented it to her father, but giving Tom plenty more detail because he seemed keen to hear it all.

Tom finally gave a small whoop of pleasure when she shrugged as they walked, suggesting that was it, he’d heard all her plans. ‘That’s really clever, Fleur.’

‘I’m glad you think so. I’m intrigued to hear why, though.’

He seemed to sense this was a test, as though she wanted to be sure he was not just paying her lip service. ‘I suppose when the time comes, I’d rather have someone like you preparing me and my loved ones than someone like Jimmy Coglin. You care. It sounds as though he cares more about income and profit. But perhaps, just more objectively, your idea is unique. Anything with a fresh approach to how we have always done things is going to win attention. I could apply that thinking to sheep shearing and wool classing and even . . .’ He paused for a moment, thinking of an example. ‘Well, those new electric buses. Who would have thought twenty years ago we’d have those carrying people to and fro? I imagine you have new techniques, new ways of doing things in your business from time to time.’

‘We do – regularly.’

He grinned. ‘But this is a big leap, I imagine. Right now, it’s likely few may think what you’re suggesting is a great idea, because it’s so radical and it probably feels threatening too. You’re going to really shake up the industry.’

‘A lot of the undertakers in this state and everywhere else belong to the Freemasons. The funeral business, like the Lodge, is a male-only domain – an industry that is increasingly worth a fortune, I might add. I pay attention to news both here and internationally. I watch what’s going on in our industry and, Tom, the Americans are eyeing off Australia. Their industry is massive; you’d think there would be more than enough business to go around. But I can feel their collective eyes on our nation, and I sense they think we’re ripe for the picking. My father doesn’t share my sentiments but he’s older, set in his ways. He believes in doing things the old-fashioned way. But the very history he’s come from proves that generations don’t sit still. They change with the times. He changed his father’s business and somewhere along the line he’s forgotten that.

‘I’m the next generation, and I can bring the change, but those men who dominate the funeral business sit around in their meetings and plot ways to keep it wholly male-owned. I know they’ve criticised my father down the years for involving his daughter, but there wasn’t much they could do because Dad was one of the first in the state and certainly the first in this region to offer a proper undertaking service. They’ll be overrun by the big American companies who will gobble them up.’

‘Not you, though, Fleur. I can see the local blokes won’t enjoy you striking out in this way.’

‘I’ll probably receive threats,’ she jested.

‘I’ll protect you.’

Fleur squeezed his arm. ‘You were sweet at ten, Tom, and you haven’t changed despite all that’s happened.’ She paused walking and he followed suit, their gazes locking, and she felt as though a current had been encircling them. It had begun with slow revolutions drawing them towards one another, first relying on that childhood familiarity but increasingly over the journey of the past hour it begun to travel faster, bringing them so much closer as they shared their innermost thoughts and feelings.

Now it felt like an invisible rope bound them . . . it had connected them two decades ago but was now finally secured around them with a firm knot of secrets and emotion.

By the time they made it back to the gates, she was ready for a break. ‘Shall we have a pot of tea?’ she asked, checking her wristwatch. ‘It’s past eleven.’

‘Great idea,’ he said, and led them down the nearest pathway that would take them into the deepest part of the zoo. ‘I know you want to see the monkeys, so let’s save them to last. If we wait until noon, all the children will need feeding and I imagine picnics will be laid out, so it will be quieter at the enclosure.’