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Gina’s laugh trilled over the phone. ‘No, you really don’t want to. It’s like a zoo over here then. Bath and bedtime. It’ll turn you off kids for life. I’m planning an early night with my Kindle. I’m fine, really.’

‘How about lunch on Wednesday? I’ve got a couple of hours off in the middle of the day.’ Ellie had taken note of the schedule when she’d pulled it up earlier.

‘Honestly, you don’t have to look after me. We’re fine.’ Gina sounded a bit embarrassed.

‘No, I’d love to get to know you. How about I meet you at noon? It’ll be a nice break from all the flights we’ve got on this week.’

‘Okay, then. I’ll look forward to it.’

‘I’ll call if anything changes. Bye.’ She disconnected and frowned. One call down, one to go. Clearing the air with Heather was a priority, but not something she really wanted to do over the phone. But it couldn’t wait – she’d be finished work by the time Ellie got back. And her friendship was too important to let things get worse.

She hit the shortcut button and waited for Heather to answer as her car sped towards Jabiru.

*

‘Bill!’ Terry threw an apologetic glance Kane’s way and leaned over close to the older Aboriginal guy at the back of an air-boat. They were inside a shed in the enclosed compound at the back of the lodge, and the boat was propped up on a long timber ramp that led down to the river.

‘What?’ The old guy lifted his head and stared at them. A dead roll-your-own was wedged between his lips and he narrowed his eyes as he looked at Kane.

‘This is Kane McLaren,’ Terry said. ‘The new mechanic over at the flight centre. Jock sent him over to help you.’

Kane held out his hand as Terry turned back to him. ‘Kane, this is Bill Jarragah, my uncle.’

The old guy finally straightened and held a filthy hand out to Kane. ‘Don’t need help.’ His voice was gruff.

Kane nodded and shook his hand, ignoring the smear of grease transferred to his fingers. The guy’s hands were as filthy as the stained overalls he wore.

‘I thought you were having trouble with the motor?’ Terry shook his head as Bill turned back to the boat.

Bill grunted and ignored them.

‘Jeez, Uncle Bill. What’s put the bug up your arse this week? You’ve been a real cranky old bugger lately.’ Terry rolled his eyes at Kane.

‘I’ve sorted it.’ Bill lifted his head again and gestured to the workbench that ran along the side of the shed. ‘So quit your jabbering and pass me a thirty mil spanner.’ Whether it was the problem with the motor or another problem he’d sorted was not clear.

Kane looked around the workshop, barely holding back a shudder. Every surface was covered with tools, bits of pipe and assorted pieces of metal, and the floor was littered with junk. It was a workplace safety nightmare and he was surprised. The rest of the lodge – the parts he’d seen – were immaculate. Even the gardens around the staff car park down the back were well cared for. This workshop was an accident waiting to happen. If the hangar had looked anything like this, he would have turned on his heel and walked out last week, contract or no contract.

To his surprise, Terry crossed to the end of the bench, reached into the assortment of junk and pulled out the required spanner.

He shrugged as he handed it to Bill and looked guiltily at Kane. ‘Bit of a mess in here. Jock’s given us till the end of the month to get it back in order but we’ve been flat out with the crocodile management and the monitoring for salvinia.’

‘Salvinia?’ Kane hadn’t heard of it.

‘It’s a noxious floating weed. We help out the national park blokes with spotting it when we’re out in the air-boats.’

Kane nodded and looked around. ‘If you want a hand with the clean up, I’ve got some spare time. When I’m not rostered on anywhere else that is.’

‘We’d appreciate any help we can get, hey Bill?’

Another grunt from under the boat.

Kane wandered over to a second boat that was propped up at the front of the shed. He bent down to look at the motor and Terry followed him over.

‘Really interesting set-up, these boats. I haven’t seen one of these up close before. Is that a V8 engine?’

‘Yep, they have automotive engines in them. You’ll have to come out for a spin one afternoon. They get a good speed up.’ Terry lowered his voice. ‘Don’t be put off by the mess. Bill’s a damn good worker, but he stretches himself too thin. He represents our people on a lot of committees. He’s a good man.’

‘Ah, ya fuckin’ bastard.’ The clang of a spanner hitting the wire frame around the motor brought an oath from the lips of Bill, and Kane raised his eyebrows as he grinned at Terry.