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Greg,’ his mum told him.
    Greg looked at his mother and nodded. Her eyes were damp. That was when he realised that the arrival of the haversack meant Mr Garland had died.
    This didn’t lessen Greg’s desire to go back to Moondilla, though he knew the town would never be quite the same without his friend. An old and very decorated ex-soldier had treated him not as a small boy, but as a mate.
    Years later, when he finally returned to live in Moondilla, Baxter brought the haversack with him. In fact, it was where he stowed the aspirin he’d just bought.

CHAPTER FOUR
    ‘ So what are you doing in Moondilla?’ Julie asked, when they were sitting in a corner of the cosy little coffee shop.
    He looked down at the long, neat line of stitches in his arm before answering. ‘I’m trying to write a book. Although I won’t be much good at typing for a while.’
    ‘The great Australian novel?’
    ‘I’ll be happy just to get it published,’ he said, grinning.
    ‘What’s the theme of it?’
    ‘Well, do you remember that journalism was my day job back in Sydney? When I wasn’t helping out with one of Mum’s cooking ventures.’
    Julie nodded.
    ‘I did a couple of big stories about the increase in heroin usage, and the fact that a lot of prostitutes are hooked on it or something equally obnoxious. Mum’s publisher was impressed with my work. He said if I ever felt like writing something more substantial, even a novel based on the articles I’d written, he’d be more than happy to have a look. So I’ve sort of got a foot in the door. Mind you, I’ve got to produce the book.’
    ‘Hmm. Well, don’t tear those stitches.’ Julie paused, stirring some sugar into her coffee. ‘And is there a Mrs Baxter?’
    Baxter caught a glimpse of hope in her eyes—she was probably just hoping that he’d settled down with a nice woman. He wished he could say that he had.
    Instead he said, ‘I haven’t met anyone I wanted to live with. Not after I lost Elaine. And to be honest, not after you left for the UK.’ He took a breath and plunged on. ‘I have to admit, you were the only woman who appealed to me. But you had other plans. I understood that, and I just hope you never felt I was coming on too strong.’
    He thought she might be offended or even angry, but she smiled gently and said, ‘There must have been others, Greg. There must have been. Men in your mould don’t grow on trees.’
    Baxter shook his head. ‘Nothing serious. Nothing beyond dinner dates.’
    There was a pause as they sipped their coffees.
    ‘So,’ she said, just as the silence grew uncomfortable, ‘you’re out at the Carpenter place on your own and you’re writing a book.’
    ‘I’m not entirely on my own.’
    ‘Ah,’ she said, her cup clattering as she set it down.
    ‘I have a big dog, Chief. An amazing animal. He’s a German Shepherd, bred from imported stock.’
    ‘A dog! You’re living on your own with a dog?’
    ‘Yep, is that so hard to believe?’
    She gave him a look that told him it was.
    ‘Honestly,’ he said and laughed, ‘I’m living on a strict budget, keeping up my martial arts routine and working long-ish hours at the computer.’
    Julie nodded thoughtfully. ‘So you’ve got a German Shepherd. Things are beginning to click in my head. My sister Jane is dog mad—she has two boxers—and she mentioned that a fellow who came to the garage had a very clever shepherd. You might have met her husband, Steve Lewis. He owns Moondilla Motors.’
    ‘I didn’t meet him, just an assistant, but I know him by reputation. He’s supposed to be the best mechanic in the district.’
    ‘That’s right. He’s a decent enough fellow, as men go. Jane could have done a lot worse. His only vice is that he’s fishing mad. Mind you, he’s not alone around here.’
    ‘It’s hardly a vice, Julie,’ Baxter protested.
    ‘No, hardly a vice,’ she said and smiled. ‘Maybe more of an obsession in Steve’s case. And to be honest, it’s an