Maybe accepting Jake’s invitation for accommodation at the lodge was a mistake, she decided. But staying up here tonight in the empty refuge seemed unthinkable, and landing on Barb again was equally impossible. There were relocatable homes set up down in the valley for anyone displaced by the fires. She could move into one of those.

But not tonight, she thought. She’d give herself this night of respite.

A night with Jake?

No.

This was a night at a lovely guesthouse, she told herself fiercely. It had nothing to do with Jake. It was a night of indulgence before moving onto practicalities. To the dreary other side…

She glanced at Rusty, sitting passively beside the cardboard box that held all her worldly possessions, the practical things-changes of clothes, toiletries, things she’d had to find to survive.

She would survive. She and Rusty.

‘And we’ll come back to the ridge,’ she told the little dog as he looked mournfully along the road towards where they used to live. ‘Dad and Micki and Benedict, and Mutsy and Pogo and Bandit-they’re still here. Just a little bit, but they’re still here.’

But for now they had to leave.

‘We’ll come back,’ she said again, and she flicked the engine into life and drove out the gate-and to Rusty’s great sorrow she turned right instead of left, down into the valley instead of where they’d left so much. ‘I promise you, Rusty. We’ll come home.’

She was coming. She rang Rob and it was all Jake could do not to listen in on the extension.

‘You’re really worried about her,’ Rob said when he finished.

‘She’s had a tough time.’

‘So has half this valley.’

‘I don’t know half this valley,’ he growled. ‘I know Tori.’

‘Only since yesterday… Right,’ Rob said thoughtfully. ‘So shall we give her the honeymoon suite?’

‘What?’

‘The best,’ Rob said patiently. ‘The one I tried to put you in. It’s expensive.’