‘Yeah,’ Henry breathed, and tossed aside his crutches and looked to his mother for help to go down the ramp. ‘Yeah, I am.’

‘He seems lovely.’

‘He’s not.’ Back inside, Jenny was trying to explain the extraordinary turn of events to her in-laws. ‘He won’t do Kylie’s wedding. She’s not good enough to be a Carver Bride.’

‘Kylie is a bit…’ Lorna said, and Jenny glowered and tossed tea into the pot with unnecessary force.

‘Don’t you come down on his side. Kylie and Shirley were great to us.’

They had been. All of those dreary months when Jenny had needed to be in the hospital-for three awful weeks Henry had not been expected to live-Kylie and Shirley and a host of other locals had run this little farm, had ferried Lorna and Jack wherever they’d wanted to go, had filled the freezer with enough casseroles to feed an army for years, had even taken over the organisation of local weddings. The town had been wonderful, and Jenny wasn’t about to turn her back on them now.

‘I know they’re fabulous,’ Lorna told her. ‘And of course I promised we’d do Kylie’s wedding. But they won’t hold us to more than that. I was just so upset. With Ben dead, and we thought we’d lose Henry…’

‘You would have promised the world,’ Jenny said. ‘Shirley knows that. She tried it on with Guy this afternoon-and why wouldn’t you? But I will do Kylie’s wedding for cost, and Guy can’t stop me. I’ll just organise it from here.’

‘And the rest?’

‘He can have the society weddings. I don’t want them.’

‘They’re the only ones that make us money.’

‘We’ll survive. He paid heaps for the business-more than its worth. But I don’t want Guy Carver as my boss.’

‘There’d be worse bosses,’ Jack said, and Jenny sighed.

‘Just because the man has a Ferrari…’

‘What’s he driving Henry for?’