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said.
    “Like all places of great beauty, when you see the South Island from a distance, you must say, this is the place. That’s what I said. Peace is here. But up close, we all have pimples on our arses. Behind the hymn singers and pulpit thumpers of Christchurch are some sanctimonious savages. Knock on any door…but you know that, Rory. You’ve knocked on a few of them these days yourself.”
    “Don’t tell me your old man played around on you. Not on you, Georgia.”
    “With a minister’s wife, among others.”
    “Bleeding Jesus, a preacher’s wife!”
    “Tight-arsed and wearing a quivering potted plant on her head. The tip of her nose wiggled when she talked, like there was a fly on it.”
    “I don’t understand it. Not to a woman like you. Georgia, you’ve forgotten more about loving a man than any woman knows. You were just too much for him to handle, that’s what.”
    “He never found out what I could give him. And he was no Rory Larkin. Once I was collected and in place, loving him was like trying to love a preening peacock.”
    “But a woman like you…”
    “Men like Calvin Norman are only interested in the head count. Numbers to stroke his vanity. Conquest of no-matter-who reassures his virility. Have any idea how many desperate women fling themselves on a doctor during an intimate examination? Well now, I’m asking the wrong lad. You’re doing a bit of head hunting as well. All of you like it when the girl says, ‘Let’s go to it.’ Few refuse.”
    “Now wait a minute. I’m generally faithful to you,” Rory blurted. “That’s not what I meant to say. I meant to say, if you were mine, I wouldn’t be doing that. But you aren’t mine and it’s almost as if you want me to go out and find women so I won’t think of you as a jealous sort. Right, love?”
    “I’d never put pressure on you. I can’t because I’m married. I wouldn’t because I’d run you off.”
    Rory reached for her, but she backed up a bit, out of reach and their rocking chairs stopped.
    “Anyhow,” she went on, “he got his cheap thrills with a minister’s wife. Afterward he used up all the hot water taking baths to clean the itch off his skin.”
    “Want him back?”
    “When the war came I gave him amnesty,” she lied, almost spilling the secret. “Stitching up men with their guts hanging out and cutting off arms and legs could have a positive effect on him about what really matters.”
    “Had your husband been straight with you, would we have happened?”
    “No,” she answered. “I’ve seen my share of glorious bodies. There was one boy I loved desperately who died in the Boer War. The few other lovers until Calvin were part of growing up in the colonial service. I’ve never been cynical. I’ve cared for them all. It was what it was, but I neither lied nor cheated.”
    “Were they all bad numbers in the end?”
    “They were soldiers. I was a nurse. And boys will be boys. But, the fact of the matter was, it was I who wanted to be free. I settled on Calvin because he was part of the illusion of the South Island.”
    “Could you have loved me?” Rory asked suddenly.
    “Don’t be foolish. We’re an odd couple.”
    “We’re not that odd,” Rory said. “Could you have loved me?”
    Georgia shrugged. “It’s a moot question. We are uncomplicated. I want it to stay that way.”
    “I’ve been thinking,” Rory said, “of the three things I’ll miss the most. I’ll miss the Ballyutogue Station and I’ll miss RumRunner, and yourself as well.”
    “I’m in fine company,” she said. “Now, go find your wars.”
    Rory suddenly lifted her into his arms, and she was notprecisely weightless. He edged the screen door open with his toe first, then his backside, and carried her to the bedroom. Georgia did not stop screaming and laughing and beating at his shoulders until he dumped her on the bed.
    Then, he wrapped himself around her to still her like a calf he had just roped and they grabbed each