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supposed to go over water but instead went over saltpan she turned left onto the highway and headed for home.
    The siren went just once but was piercing and caused her to flinch and tap on the brakes in panic and say sorry to Mathew for the braking, all in one heartbeat. Her rear-vision mirror flickered blue and red. Moira pulled to the gravel verge, stopped the car and turned the engine off.
    Her cunning hat knew what to do. She had Mathew to help her. She’d use his presence to get sympathy for whatever it was she had done. The policeman was a young fellow. Curly blond with perfect muscle in the weightlifting way. His hands rested on the weaponry on his waist. The young ones were nastier, Shane always reckoned. The older ones had more of a worldly style, were more lenient and polite, knowing more about life. The younger ones liked to prove they were better than you.
    ‘Hello, officer. Sorry if I did wrong.’
    ‘Driver’s licence, please.’
    ‘I got it in my purse, I think.’
    She reached across to the passenger floor and pulled up her bag. She had a feel around inside. ‘Don’t seem to be here. I was in a rush. I had to take my grandson to hospital. He’s okay, thank God.’
    ‘What was wrong?’
    ‘He’s just been born. I panicked and needed him checked.’
    As if on cue Mathew let out a hunger sob and followed it up with solid crying.
    Moira put her arm over the seat and stroked him. ‘Easy, darling.’
    She put on a worried face and thought about sniffing, as if close to tears. She stayed with the worried face for the meantime. ‘He needs to get home and be fed and put to bed. It’s been a big day for him. Big day for us both. Have you got children?’
    ‘I need to see your licence.’
    ‘It’s not in my bag.’
    He put on a blue cap and pinched the peak as if gesturing goodbye. It was no goodbye. It was suspicion.
    ‘Was I speeding, sir?’ asked Moira.
    He was slow answering. If he said yes she knew to say sorry at least three times. Make police feel they’re standing over you, in charge, superior, that’s the rule. If they feel superior they feel they’ve dealt with you and might let you go.
    ‘No. Been some roadside fires. We’re stopping cars at random. You local?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Seen nothing unusual?’
    ‘No.’
    He took a black flip-pad from his breast pocket and asked for her name and where she lived. ‘Just off Loop Road,’ she said. He asked for her phone number and she said they didn’t have one. He jotted down the rego and took a stroll around the car, bending to assess the state of the tyre tread and muffler. He asked to see the headlights on, and the indicators. Then he went to his car, sat in it with one leg out the door. Through the mirror Moira saw him talking on his equipment as if to himself. She reached to Mathew and let him suckle the tip of her finger for fake feeding. He was fooled for a second, then continued crying.
    The policeman got out of his car. ‘I’ve got no matches for a licence under your name,’ he said.
    ‘That’s strange.’ Moira knew not to smile or hold eye contact for too long when you’re being cunning. Better to put her wrist over the steering wheel and give a casual flop of the hand.
    ‘I’ll need you to bring in your licence to the station for sighting. We’ll expect to see it by, ah, week’s end, yeah?’
    ‘No worries.’
    He nodded and stood there, staring at her. He put on his sunglasses. He wanted to say more, she was sure of it. He had a quip or question he was keeping to himself.
    He walked to his car. Moira waited for him to leave before she started the engine.

6
    Shane was in a bad mood so Moira didn’t tell him. She’d been stopped before in other towns and simply ignored it. That was a benefit of the travelling life over settling. If she was told to present her licence at a police station they were usually on the road in a few days and she didn’t bother. Because they were settled now she would have to tell him,