Sarah Thornhill. Kate Grenville

      Will! Will’s home! he shouted.

      Pushed past me, took the steps two at a time, out the gate and down the road with that funny crooked run he had and the telescope still in his hand. Didn’t care that the men were staring at Mr Thornhill with his boots flapping from where he hadn’t taken the time to lace them up.

      I was halfway down the track after him when the dog ran past and when I got to the jetty it was standing out on the end, straining towards the boat, but it was still way off down the end of the reach. The sail hanging slack from the yard, the people on board no bigger than ants. One of them must be Will. And one of the others would be Jack.

      That thought—Jack!—brought something into my throat, as if I’d run too hard. I knew then what I hadn’t known all those months of mooning about. It was Jack I was waiting for.

      There was a crowd on the jetty now, Mary and Ma and Bub, all telling each other how long Will and Jack had been gone and how slow they was coming up the reach, and was the tide on the turn or would they have to get out the oars. On and on they went, and the boat not seeming to move.

      Give us the glass, Pa, I said. So’s I can see.

      The eyepiece full of sky, then bush. I slanted down too fast, missed the boat. Tracked along those blue ripples and there was the old grey wood of Emily, and up on the bow, leaning forward as if to get to us quicker, there he was. Jack. Black hair glistening in the sun, beard so thick it hid most of his face. Looking straight at me. I waved and he waved back, even though I must of been nothing more than a shape with an arm coming out of it.

      When Emily got up to us at last, Jack jumped across the last yard of water, didn’t wait for them to tie the boat up. So light on his feet for such a big man. Landed next to me neat as a cat.

      Well, he said. It’s Sarah Thornhill, I do believe.

      The same as I’d remembered, his eyes crinkled up with smiling.

      Dolly Thornhill, stuck for words! That was a new one.

      The speckled dog ran in circles with its tail going like a carpet-beater. Pa slapping Will’s shoulders, Will slapping Pa’s, the two of them shouting at each other.

      Still want to marry me, Sarah Thornhill? The humour of it was on Jack’s face, he took a breath, his mouth started the words. But then he saw the new shape of me, changed his mind. The words hung between us.

      It was nothing. A silence the length of a heartbeat, and Jack’s eyes looking into mine. But it said everything is different now.

      When the others walked up to the house the two of us hung back. We’d walked up that track together a hundred times but I’d never had to think before how you walked beside someone. How much space did you leave between you? Did you touch them as you walked, did your hand brush against theirs as it swung backwards and forwards, and how did you breathe?

      Pa stoked up the fire in the parlour and splashed out his best madeira into the good glasses. His hand shaking, he was that pleased to see Will back. Anne brought in cake but Pa said, none of that stuff, Anne, these fellers need some of that meat from last night. Pickle with it and plenty on the plate, mind!

      I made sure I ended up next to Jack on the sofa. Took a leaf out of Sophia’s book, working it that way as we come into the room, but making it look like chance.

      Pa wanted to know everything. How many storms and how many skins, was the first mate any good and did they give you enough victuals. Couldn’t get enough of their tales of hardship, sitting in his cosy parlour with his rich acres round him.

      An ember flew from the grate and I put out my foot to snuff it. New boots from Abercrombie’s, buttons up the side, made my feet very small. Took my time with the ember and when I sat back I saw Jack was smiling to himself.

      They’d had a dangerous time of it. Not enough seals, so they had to stay too long, past the good season, and the storms caught up with them. Went way down south, some island too far and too cold for anyone to live on. Took the risk rather than come home with the boat half empty.

      Hard to find as a damn flea, Will said. Wasn’t it Jack?

      But Jack was smiling at the fire, and I was the only one who knew why he wasn’t listening, because my hip was jammed up tight against his and where we touched something was running from his body into mine and from mine into his.

      Wake up, Jack! Will said. Good living sending you to sleep!

      So you find it? Bub said. Or what?

      Found it right enough, Jack said. And these fellers on it, been there three years. Left behind to get the seals, some bugger of a captain forgot to come back for them.

      Three years, I said. They’d be dead!

      Well and they near was, Jack said. Ever think what a seal might taste like, Sarah Thornhill?

      His face very close, I could see how the hairs of his beard sprang away from his red lips.

      What does it, Jack, I said. Taste like.

      He was watching my mouth, my eyes. His were flecked, green and brown. The eyelashes very black.

      Bloody awful! Will shouted from across the room. Rank like fish, that right Jack?

      So these fellers, Pa said. No boat to get away?

      That’s right, Mr Thornhill, Jack said. No boat, so it was make one or stop there till they died. A few trees on this place, but no saw with them, only an axe.

      What, cut the tree down, chip it away to a plank! I said. One plank out of a whole tree!

      You’re a quick study, Sarah Thornhill, Jack said. That’s it. One tree, one plank.

      God in heaven save us, Pa said.

      How many they done when you got there, I said. How far off a boat?

      Eight done, Jack said. Long ways off a boat. By God they was pleased to see us.

      Kissed us, Will said. Bloody kissed us!

      Pooh! Bub said. What, on the mouth?

      Get away with you, lad, Pa said. They never.

      Reckon you’d find it in yourself, Sarah Thornhill, Jack asked me under everyone laughing. Set in to cut that first tree?

      I would, I said. Got a stubborn streak, Jack, and not as dainty as you might think. What I want, I don’t stop till I got it.

      JACK ALWAYS sang for his supper when he was with us. Carried in wood for the parlour till the box was full, always the one to tend the fire till it blazed up bright. Got out the yard broom, had the verandah and the front steps swept before anyone was up.

      That first morning he was back I woke up early. Lay for a moment, then I remembered. Jack’s home! Got dressed and went downstairs where Mrs Devlin was in the kitchen, saw Jack in the yard splitting kindling. The hatchet never missing, the wood falling away clean from the blade. His body moving so smooth and easy, him and the wood and the hatchet like a dance.

      Well, it’s Sarah Thornhill, he said. Bright as a bird.

      How did I pass those months without him? Now he was here, it felt like I’d been half dead.

      Come to stack for me, have you, he said. Just mind them splinters. Them soft fingers of yours.

      Our valley was that deep, the sun came into it late. Gold on the hills all round before it reached down to us. A lovely time. That soft light, and knowing the sun would soon shine warm on you. Me and Jack. Nothing said because nothing needed to be.

      Then Ma was bustling out from the house.

      Jack, leave that, she said. And Dolly, look at you all over splinters!

      Happy to do it, Mrs Thornhill, Jack said. You and Mr Thornhill good to me, least I can do.

      Well, Jack, she said. Glad you’re not a cadger like some. But we got the boy to do the firewood,