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balanced the cigarette on his lower lip, fumbled in his shirt pocket for a box of matches, and brought a flame to the end of the twisted paper. It flared for an instant, before he drew the smoke deep into his lungs and then let it trickle out of his nose; the stubble on his upper lip was stained yellow.
    ‘You must know what I’ve seen. You live here.’
    That stopped him. He grunted. ‘Thought you were meant to be working in the house.’
    ‘I’ll be doing some gardening, too.’ She wondered why she was explaining herself to this man who must surely rank low on the Downe pecking order. ‘I want to learn about this place and how it works.’
    ‘What the bloody hell for?’
    It was a fair question, but Mary was ready for it. ‘I’m blessed with insatiable curiosity, like the elephant’s child.’
    He had nothing to say to that — he’d probably never heard of the elephant’s child — dragging instead on the cigarette, making it wither with a perceptible crackling sound.
    ‘She letting you loose in the garden, is she? Must be bloody crook to let anyone loose in her precious garden! Might at least’ve asked me. I know where things are. I top-dressed the sparrer grass while she was away — nobody asked me but I knew it was the right time. Like sparrer grass, do you?’
    Sparrer grass: asparagus. ‘Love it. Especially fresh out of the garden.’
    ‘Ellen planted it. Should be up soon, better keep your eyes peeled.’
    ‘Excellent. Now, if you’ll pardon the question, what do you do here?’
    He looked at her as if he couldn’t believe such ignorance. ‘Sheep. I’m the sheep man. Used to be called the shepherd in the old days.’
    ‘Ah. So where do you live?’
    ‘Here, of course!’ He gestured somewhere beyond the curtain of foliage. ‘Used to be Ben’s. When he passed on, I came and took over — his quarters, well as his job. Been here ever since. Get me dinner at Gloria’s. Get into town now and then, play up.’ He grinned at her, wrinkling his eyes, and just for a second his look was one of speculation.
    Mary felt a twinge of uneasiness, but it passed.
    ‘Just been in, matter of fact.’ He winked to let her know what a good time he’d had and took a last deep drag on the cigarette before crushing it into the dirt with the heel of his boot. ‘Better get back to it.’ He stood up, no taller than Mary, his legs shorter than hers and bandy. ‘See you round. Any time you fancy bit of a wongie, just knock three times and ask for Angus.’ He pantomimed knocking on the empty air and ambled away, swishing through the green foliage to vanish from sight.
    C LIO LAY IN THE DARK, wide awake. She could clearly remember when, in the dimness of the hospital ward, she’d be on the verge of drifting off: that lovely moment when the pain lost its grip and her mind let go, conscious — if only just — of that moment of falling, of blurring, of disengagement, and they’d come rattling around to take her temp or offer a sleeping pill, and she’d have to surface again to deal with them, trying not to let the irritation drag her back to the pain of complete wakefulness.
    Tonight, she realised with surprise, she wasn’t feeling hazy or in pain. Right now, unlikely as it seemed, she was feeling more alive than she’d felt for months.
    She mused on the day just past. Except for her excursion out to the kitchen, it had been like every other day since she’d come home. After her chat with Mary, she’d drifted into a deep sleep. She was at home, in her own bed, with the house to herself, except for Mary, out in Ben’s old sleepout. There was no routine to give structure to her days; she could do whatever she liked. She lay there, savouring the freedom. The bed was comfortable, and she could still taste the delicious meal Mary had cooked for her; those prawns had been wonderful — she’d never have thought of wrapping them in bacon like that.
    Mary was the first new person she’d met properly for — how