He wiped his knife on a tussock of wiry grass, shoved it back into the scabbard. ‘See a dingo, shoot it. Understand me?’

He remounted and stared down at Andrew, who was still looking at the shambles that the wild dogs had left. His rage bubbled over. ‘You planning to hold a burial service over ’em or can we get on now?’

*

When they had finished their work, Mary and Lorna went out and strolled down to the riverbank.

‘Best time,’ Mary said. ‘No flies and too early for mozzies.’

‘Are ye happy here?’ Lorna asked.

Mary raised her shoulder. ‘’S orright. Easier for me, o’course.’

‘Why?’

‘Born in the colony. Currency lass, that’s me.’ She leant her back awkwardly against a tree and patted her distended belly with her hand. ‘’Ere’s another one. Little currency boy.’

‘When’s it due?’

‘Next week, I reckon.’

‘Your first?’

‘Yair. An’ you?’

‘Not yet.’

Mary moved again, uncomfortably, and burped under her breath. ‘You get sick o’ waiting.’

‘What do you want?’

‘Boy, I reckon. George says he don’t care. But men do, don’ they? Want a son, I mean?’

‘I suppose it depends on the man.’ Andrew would, she thought.

‘I was hoping you’d been through it yourself,’ Mary said.

Lorna stared curiously. ‘Why?’

‘You’d know what to do, wouldn’t you? You’re the only white woman ’round here, don’ forget. I don’t want one o’ them blackies.’

Lorna looked at the silent swirl of the water at her feet, thinking, I dinna believe what I’m hearing. I know nothing aboot babies or birth or anything. ‘Is there no’ a doctor in Goulburn?’

Mary laughed breathlessly. ‘I wouldn’t trust ’im with a cat. ’Sides, havin’ a man around then … It’s enough they’re there at the start of it. Don’ want ’em at the finish. Don’ seem …’ she groped for the word, ‘don’ seem decent, some’ow’ She sighed and shifted her bulk again. ‘Regular ton weight, ’e is.’

They walked slowly towards the house, Mary’s hand pressing the small of her back.

‘It’s lucky I’m here then,’ Lorna said half-heartedly.

‘Not luck.’ Mary smiled sweatily. ‘I said to Gav, you want another worker, you better get one with a wife so we kin ’ave her around when the time comes.’

They reached the house. Mary paused, one hand on the door frame, supporting herself. She was sweating freely now.

Lorna looked at her, alarmed. Not now, she thought. Not now, with no one here. ‘Ye sure it’s not till next week?’

‘Maybe I counted wrong.’

A slow convulsion moved through her.

‘Ye’d best lie down,’ Lorna said, anxiously.

Mary took a couple of breaths, holding herself against the sudden influx of pain, of fear.

Presently she said, ‘Reckon you might be right.’

They turned and began to walk slowly in the direction of the sleeping quarters.

The Curtis’ room had a few pieces of furniture, neatly made, and the straw palliasses were spread out on the downstairs floor.