Have another smoke and we’ll go and see if we can find some more. Next lot we find, you just make sure you take a bit more time to do it. Oh, I could see in your face how much you loved doing it.’

Jake looked at him. ‘Yes. You’re right. I did like it. It was good. Now I’ve got to go. Please open the door. I’ve got to go to the dunny.’

Jake retched out his empty stomach and his heart. He wiped his hands on his overalls trying to rid himself of the feel of those small warm bundles of struggling fur. Tried to wipe from his mind the sight of six pathetic kitten bodies with lifeless eyes. ‘Please forgive me, dear God, because I had to do it. It was better for them that I did it. You have to believe me, God. It was better that I did it.’

Darcy Pearson had not quite extracted every ounce of personal pleasure from Jake’s agony. ‘Boy oh boy, Dad,’ he said, piling porridge into his bowl. ‘You should’ve seen what old Pongo did to a litter of kittens he cornered over in the shed. Worse than me, any day.’

‘I didn’t want…he made me…’

Old Pearson slapped Jake hard on the back. ‘Getting into our farm ways, eh, Pom?’ and he guffawed a hoarse laugh. ‘There’s another couple of litters over in the hay barn. The two of you can sort them out, too. Damn strays everywhere. Breeding bad as rabbits.’

‘Yeah, Dad. We will. We’ll get them together, won’t we, Pongo? Bet you can’t wait.’ Darcy turned to Jake and nudged him with his elbow.

‘If he has time to be playing around with cats he’s got time for more work,’ said Mrs Pearson. ‘Ragwort is starting to come through in those top paddocks. You can get to work on the end of a grubber before it gets any bigger and starts to spoil the milk.’

Whatever ragwort might be, Jake didn’t care. Whatever a grubber was, he guessed he’d find out soon enough. Whatever both of them were, he knew it would mean more work for him.