As though he had timed it, Henderson put in an appearance, not from the bedrooms upstairs, as Lorna had expected, but dismounting from his horse outside the kitchen door.

‘Mr Henderson must have been oot early,’ Lorna said.

‘’E’ll ’a’ bin out checking the stock,’ Mary said. ‘The same every morning. ’E don’t let the grass grow under his feet, I can tell you.’ She laughed. ‘Nor no one else’s.’

As Mary took the chops and damper off the fire and started heaping the plates the door opened and Henderson strode in, the others on his heels. A breath of the cold, damp morning came in with them and the smell of the mist was on their clothes.

‘G’day, Mrs McLachlan. See Mary’s already getting you organised. Good, good. Slept well, I hope.’

Obviously no reply was expected. Henderson sat at the head of the table. The other men joined him, Andrew a little awkward, taking his lead from George.

Mary put a piled-up plate in front of each man.

Henderson started talking as he ate. ‘George, you got enough to keep you busy the next couple of days?’

‘Plenty.’

Henderson reached for more damper and spread it liberally with butter from the earthenware dish that Mary had put on the table. Prompted by Mary, Lorna filled a huge cup with tea from the kettle boiling on the corner of the fire and put it in front of him before doing the same for the other men.

Henderson spooned sugar into his tea, added milk and stirred it energetically. He looked up at Lorna, standing by the fire. ‘Going to steal your husband from you, Mrs McLachlan. Show him the run and all the things that need doing. Should be back tomorrow night, all being well. Put us up some food, Mary,’ he directed. ‘Quick as you can. I’ll like to be off within the next fifteen minutes. We’ve a lot of ground to cover. We’ll get you kitted out while we’re waiting,’ he said to Andrew, gulping down his tea. ‘Come on.’

He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and strode to the door. ‘Thanks for the breakfast, Mary. You’ll look after Mrs McLachlan, won’t you.’

He threw open the door and went out, Andrew hurrying after him.

George finished his tea in more leisurely fashion, then stood. ‘Thank the good Lord ’e d’leave me run me own shop,’ he said to no one in particular. He strolled leisurely across to the door and opened it. Outside, the sun had broken through the mist and the morning was a mixture of gold and pearl. ‘See you later, then.’ The door closed behind him.

‘See what I mean about not letting the grass grow?’ Mary said. ‘Better get that food ready, I suppose.’

After the men had left they sat down to their own meal and then cleared away.

‘Does Mr Henderson no’ have a wife?’ Lorna asked, washing plates. For the time being she had decided against the word Gav.

‘Not ’im.’

‘Why not?’

Mary shook her head.