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'Mary Sisley,' said Lucy and Malcolm in unison at once.

'Then you know something about it?'

'The camp was abandoned,' Malcolm told the man. 'It was made by a homeless, mentally ill woman who came in to us as a patient. I'm the director of emergency medicine at Black Mountain. She's still in hospital. Her medication is almost back under control, and she'll be living with her niece once she's discharged. So I don't think you need to worry, unless there were signs of more recent occupation by someone else.'

'Can't tell.' He shook his head. 'But I expect not. It was a pretty out-of-the-way spot.'

'Which was why she chose it,' Lucy murmured to Malcolm after the emergency worker and his vehicle had passed on. She shivered slightly. 'Imagine if she'd still been there, if this had happened during that first spell of bushfire weather a few weeks ago while her niece was away on her honeymoon. I doubt very much if she'd have been able to get away in time. She'd have been burned to death.'

'It's an ill wind,' Malcolm agreed. 'She lost a leg, but she didn't lose her life. And speaking of the wind...'

They both felt it, a new freshness in the air and the smell of rain. There was lightning in the distance, too. The thunderstorm ahead of the change hit a few minutes later, and the rain came pelting down like liquid mercy in huge, cold drops. Racing for the car, Lucy and Charlotte got drenched, and they were even more drenched by the short trip from the carport to the front door at home.

Lucy put Charlotte into a warm bath at once, washed her hair to get rid of the smell of the smoke and had her tucked up in bed twenty minutes later. She'd just bent to give her daughter a goodnight kiss when Charlotte looked up at her with guileless blue eyes and said in an extremely unconvincing fashion, 'Oh, dear, Mummy, I just remembered. I left Debbie—I mean Debradoria Santafloria—at Ellie's place.'

'You left— Charlotte, I didn't even know you'd
taken
her!'

'No, well, I did, and I left her there. It was an accident. And you'll have to go and get her tonight because I need her for tomorrow at school.'

'Debbie?'

'Debradoria—'

'Yes, OK, but you need Debradoria Santafloria at
school?'

'It's "Bring your favourite cuddly toy" day.'

'Oh.'

'So...'

'No!'

'Mummy-y-y!'

'Charlotte, how can I possibly leave you alone in the house at night to go back in the pelting rain and thunder to get your doll? I can't, and I'm not going to.'

'But—'

'What I
will
do...' What I'll have to do, although I really don't want to, and I have the strongest suspicion I'm being conned here! 'Is ring Ellie's dad and ask him to make sure that Ellie brings it in her backpack to school tomorrow for you.'

So she did, although if either she or Malcolm had realised at the time what a dangerous precedent they were setting...

'Are
we going to put a stop to this?' Malcolm asked.

He had appeared at the door on a Saturday morning at eight o'clock with Charlotte's home-reading folder in his hands. Thanking her lucky stars that she was now dressed, as she hadn't been five minutes earlier, Lucy gave a rueful shrug.

'I'm not sure that we can,' she answered him. "They're cunning little creatures, even though they're so obvious about it. You and I both know that Charlotte left her folder at your place on purpose yesterday—'

'Yes, but I didn't want to call her bluff on it without consulting you,' he acknowledged, 'because I'm sure you want Charlotte to do her reading homework, and they're not seeing each other this weekend for one reason and another.'

'I wonder what they think they're going to achieve?'

'Isn't it obvious?' he drawled. His eyes swept over her and she could read them very easily.

She blushed and nervously brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Yes, but do they think that forcing us to spend an extra two minutes in conversation while we return or retrieve all these left items is really going to deepen our relationship that much?'

'Lucy, they don't care about depth!' he pointed out with a touch of impatience. 'They're going by the stick system, not the carrot. They're trying to show us that it's such an incredible nuisance for the four of us to live apart that we really ought to live together.'

'I see. Of course.' She nodded. 'I'm obviously not quite as in touch with the kindergarten mentality as you are. Oh! That sounded like an insult, Malcolm, and I didn't mean it to.'

'I know,' he said, then added softly, 'I think I'm confident enough about the state of our relationship at this point not to suspect you of wanting to insult me.'

'I'm glad...'

'In fact, I'm wondering if the best way to get the dear little monsters off our backs is to— Damn! This isn't the right moment, is it?'

They'd both just heard Charlotte intoning rather persistently in the background, 'Mum-my! M-u-u-mmy!'

'Are you off to work?' Lucy questioned brightly instead, noting the way he was dressed. Tailored pants, a cream shirt, a fresh shave, in contrast to her own casual denim and cotton knit. She
could still smell his aftershave, and it was fabulous.

'Yes, there was a gap in the roster, and I'll probably be on till late. Ellie is going on a picnic with Jenny and her family. But let me finish, Lucy.'

'M-u-u-mmy.'

'Am I the one who's preventing you?' she murmured drily.

'Yes, because any minute you're going to make the fatal mistake of
answering
that little voice, and then she'll know where you are, and— So I'm
not
going to waste any more time! I wanted to ask if you'd like to go out again,' he finished, rapid and determined. They could hear footsteps in the living room, heading their way.

'Yes, I would,' she answered urgently. 'Very much.'

'I'll ring you. It seems like the phone probably offers us the greatest peace and privacy!' He was already halfway down the steps.

Charlotte frowned after him. 'Did he bring back my reading folder?'

'Yes, and it's the last time either of us is going to return the things you and Ellie leave at each other's houses, Charlotte. Is that clear?' Lucy said sternly. 'You both have to take more care.'

'OK, Mummy...' She sighed resignedly.

They both watched Malcolm as he got into his car, gave a brief wave and drove away. Then Charlotte said in a tone of gentle accusation, 'You really should have invited him in for a cup of tea or coffee, you know.'

Lucy recognised the tone as one she'd used herself with Charlotte many times, so it probably wasn't fair to criticise it. 'He had to go to work,' she explained.

'But he's the boss. He can be late if he likes.'

'Well, Charlotte, no, that's not really how it works All in all, it was a long weekend, made longer, Lucy knew, by the fact that she couldn't help waiting for Malcolm to phone as he'd said he would.

His call finally came on Sunday night. 'I was going to ask you for dinner and a movie next Saturday, but Ellie informs me that she and I have both been invited down to "meet Granny and Grandad" next weekend. I'm sorry, the etiquette is delicate here, but I have to get it sorted out. Is this something you knew about? Something you planned to—?'

He broke off as Lucy's horrified gasp told him what he needed to know.

'Thought not,' he said grimly. 'Another kindergarten conspiracy.'

'Charlotte mentioned the idea last week,' Lucy explained. 'Pestered me about it, really, as has been her wont just lately. And I told her specifically not to say anything to Ellie until I'd thought about it and decided if—'

'If it was a disastrous idea,' he finished for her. 'Which, evidently, you did.'

'No,' she answered reluctantly. 'I'd love to have Ellie down. I just didn't know...' She hesitated, then plumped for honesty. 'If you'd regard your inclusion in the invitation as a blessing or a curse.'

There was a brief silence at the far end of the phone, then he answered carefully, 'You know, that really depends on how
you
would view it, Lucy.'

That wasn't hard, and she answered simply, although it took courage, 'I'd like you to come. Very much.'

By the time Lucy put down the phone ten minutes later, it had all been arranged—an entire weekend with Malcolm and Ellie at Lucy's parents', when the most she had hoped for had been a single evening. She didn't know whether to start singing or groaning.

On hearing about the plan the following morning, Charlotte was in no such quandary. She literally rubbed her hands together with glee, then proceeded to jump up and down in excitement, and did that at intervals for most of the week. On Thursday night, Lucy extracted from her an eager admission of the wonderful new theory she'd concocted with Ellie.

'We'll all have
such
a good time that we won't want to be separated any more, so you and Ellie's daddy will decide to get married.'

Charlotte didn't bother to tell Malcolm about this idea. Somehow, she suspected that he would already have heard the entire thing from Ellie.

As long as he doesn't think that's what I'm hoping for as well. An adult just can't get away with being so blatant about it...

Lucy's parents welcomed their new guests with open arms on Friday night, just as Charlotte and Lucy had both known they would. It was nine o'clock by the time they arrived, as Malcolm hadn't been able to leave work early.

They'd eaten an evening picnic at the municipal park in Braidwood on the way through, having passed through several areas of stark, fire-blackened bush and ground covered in ghostly blue-grey ash on the way. More than two weeks after the fires, the air still smelled strongly of burnt-out wood.

Now the girls were ready for bed. It was a three-bedroom house, which made for some moments of mild embarrassment as Charlotte and Ellie didn't understand at first why they couldn't share.

'Because then Mummy and Ellie's dad would have to share a room, and that wouldn't work,' Lucy tried to explain.

'Why not?' Ellie wanted to know.

'Because big people need their privacy,' Granny cut in very firmly. 'Now, off with you, or you'll be too tired for the beach in the morning.'

Later, over a cup of tea once the two girls were settled, she told Lucy and Malcolm, 'And I think I'd better order both of you off to bed as well, or you won't be fit for the beach either.'

The next day was glorious. Along this part of the coast, the water temperature was often at its warmest in March, and the girls were able to play in the surf and on the sand for the whole morning without getting cold. Sunburn, in fact, was still the greater danger, and both parents made sine that their daughters were well covered in the protective long-sleeved bathing suits that most Australian children wore these days, as well as sunhats and sun screen. The adults were similarly covered.

Lying back on her towel on the sand, Lucy would have given a lot to know what Malcolm was thinking as he watched the children's play on his way back from the surf.

We fit together so well, the four of us, she thought. And my parents like him already, and they love Ellie, of course. Who could fail to love Ellie? It seems
obvious.
Yes, it seems as obvious to me as it does to Ellie and Charlotte, but he's seeing a lot more than that. It would be the worst mistake in the world to marry because we
look
like a family. He knows that. And I have to try and see it the way he does.

Not easy. Malcolm was quite close now, lying on his back after his vigorous swim, with droplets of sea water still rolling down his bare sides. His hair was wet and messy and dark, and his chest and shoulders glistened from the fresh layer of sunscreen he'd just applied. He looked strong and fit and at ease in his body.

If they'd been lovers, or husband and wife, she would have rolled towards him to caress those smooth, undulating shapes of muscle and sinew and bone, but with only the tentative accord that existed between them, she couldn't be nearly so bold.

Are his feelings changing at all? she wondered. Will he ever feel the way I do...the way I have for so long? Or did Bronwyn's death kill that in him for ever?

'Hello!' said Lucy's mother brightly at that moment.

She had Lucy's father following closely in her wake, and they were both dressed for swimming, after staying up at the house for an extra hour so that Dad could do some work in the garden.

'Looks so inviting,' said Mum. 'But if you two would like a swim together first,' she offered, 'go ahead. Dad and I will watch the girls.'

'I've just had one, thanks,' Malcolm returned. 'Lucy, it's your turn. Have a go with your mum and dad. That boogie-board is great. I'll help with that "swimming pool" they're working on.'

'So will I,' Dad decided. 'I like to get baking hot before I take the plunge.'

'You'll realise in a minute, Malcolm,' Lucy's mother came in, 'that taking the plunge is not something he does often. This is only the third time since we moved here that I've got him into his swimming costume.'

'I'm working up to it,' Dad protested. 'Maybe I'll just paddle in the girls' pool.'

So Lucy and her mother took their boogie-boards and waded out into the surf, while the two men joined the girls and turned a rather modest hole about half a metre across into a huge gouge in the sand, with mountainous sand walls all around it.

A cynic might have suggested that the men were soon enjoying themselves even more than the children, and Mum laughed out loud a few minutes later as both she and Lucy heard Dad saying enthusiastically, 'Dig it out a bit more on that side, Mai, and, quick, build up the wall. The tide's coming in, I reckon. We're going to lose the lot if we're not careful. Hang on, where's that shovel?'

'Getting on together like there's no tomorrow,' she commented to Lucy.