Nev whistled. “What’s this?”
“Guilt money from Rainbow’s sperm donor.”
Nev swore, flattened the bills. “Not feeling heaps guilty, is he?”
“Right? That’s my feeling. What would you do with it if you were me?”
“Me?” Nev sounded incredulous. She looked at the ceiling for a moment and puffed out her cheeks. “Uni fund.”
“That’s what he wants me to do.”
Nev nodded. “Shakespearean dramas have been written about lesser dilemmas. Is the right thing to do still the right thing if some dickhead wants you to do it?”
Ronnie smiled. Nev jiggled the blow-drier.
She watched Nev shrug into waterproof overalls and a canary yellow raincoat. The radio predicted heavy rain would hit the Tablelands in the middle of the night. Nev unplugged rechargeable batteries from the charger and tucked them under her arm.
Ronnie reached under the sink for a trash bag.
“No, Dain’y, you stay here.”
“Cast is already wet.” Her fingers stretched and broke through the thin plastic with a satisfying pop. She snapped a rubber band around the bag at her elbow again. She flipped through the coat closet until she found her old pair of rain pants.
“Fine,” Nev said. “Stay where I can see you.”
Floodlights mounted on the barns and shop buildings lit up the farmyard, but outside the circle of light the night was pitch. Wind was picking up, storm approaching. They drove down the gravel drive, trees groaning, wind howling, then parked in front of the horse barn.
Nev set two battery-powered lanterns on the table in the office. She turned on the walkie-talking that was sitting on the charger. Farm radios.
Nev held the radio to her mouth, pressed the button. “Kaz.” They waited. After a minute Nev tried again. “Drover.”
A rough voice crackled over the radio. “Balmy weather, eh?”
Nev sighed, straightening. “How are the girls?”
“Wet,” Kazi said.
Ronnie chuckled.
“What can we help you with, boss?” Nev asked.
“I have Barney here. Keep the generator going if the power goes. We’ll need it to run the telly.”
“What are you watching?”
“The match.”
“Beautiful. Carry on. I assume you’re counting them.”
“No point. They’re behind the shed, not going anywhere. If they head for the hills, we’ll find them in the morning. We run around the perimeter every two hours.”
“Looking for what?”
“Beats me.”
“Keep doing what you’re doing. I have faith in you. If you need anything…”
“Ron there?”
