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The dry heat hit Graysen as he wheeled a luggage trolley ahead of him through the main sliding doors. His eyes felt gritty immediately and he dug in his pocket for his sunglasses. There was a small queue at the taxi rank and the woman he’d assisted was at the end near the terminal entry. He carefully placed his trolley to the side and she turned to him.

‘I guess there’s taxi queue etiquette as well?’ Her smile was rueful.

‘The same all over the world.’ He smiled at her again. She had a very calming demeanour. ‘First in, best dressed.’ He looked to the head of the queue, unsurprised to see a tower of hot pink suitcases there.

‘I can’t remember the last time I took a taxi,’ she said. ‘Even though I live in the city, I think I’d still qualify for the country bumpkin tag.’

‘Which city?’ Graysen surprised himself as he asked the question.

‘Not far. I’m afraid I’m not very adventurous. Darwin.’

He nodded. ‘A nice city. Almost a big country town the last time I was there, but it’s been a while.’

‘Still much the same, although the tourist numbers seem to increase every winter.’

‘Everyone loves the warmth,’ he said.

She was quiet as they waited for the taxis to arrive, and Graysen was pleased he wasn’t next to someone who had to talk constantly. He could hear Cecily, at the front of the queue, giving her opinion on the heat, the flies, and the lack of taxis.

As her voice rose, the woman turned to him and grimaced. ‘Maybe she should have stayed at home.’

‘I think she’d be the same wherever she was. I had to share a lounge with them in Sydney.’

‘You’ve had a long flight then. From Sydney, I mean.’

‘Yes. Although not so much the time in the air. We were delayed because of wind and storms in Sydney.’

Four taxis arrived and they moved closer to the front of the queue.

‘Not long now,’ he said. A couple of the taxis were vans and the drivers were trying to fill them. The driver of the van that Cecily and Paul had boarded called along the queue. ‘Anyone else for the city?’

‘No, thank goodness,’ Graysen said quietly. ‘Sorry, that was a bit rude.’

She shook her head. ‘Didn’t bother me.’

Two couples ahead of them on the queue moved forward, and soon they reached the head of the queue.

A small sedan pulled up and the driver stepped out and approached them. ‘Where to, sir and madam?’

‘We’re not together,’ she replied. ‘But I’m going to Lasseter’s, I mean the Crowne Plaza.’

‘I am too, if you’d like to share,’ Graysen said.

‘Of course. We don’t have much luggage between us.’

‘We don’t.’

As the driver loaded their bags and his box into the boot, Graysen held out his hand. ‘I’m Graysen Hughes.’

‘Sandra Porter,’ she replied, taking his hand. Her fingers were warm and soft.

‘A pleasure, Sandra.’ He climbed into the back seat beside her.

The trip to the hotel from the airport only took ten minutes, but Graysen noticed how Sandra took everything in as they drove along the Stuart Highway. Eventually when they turned right onto South Terrace and across the dry Todd River, she spoke.

‘It’s so different to what I expected. I was imagining something like Darwin.’

‘You haven’t been to the Alice before?’