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them up here, for a story about an orphan who’s been ripped off by the people who were meant to be protecting her interests. On the other hand, if Ralph and Sylvia are out by five o’clock they might just get lucky, and avoid seeing their names in the newspapers.’
    That was all. I’d finished. I’d covered everything I’d thought of, everything I wanted to say. I leaned back in my chair, my hands spread flat on the table so he couldn’t see them trembling, and waited.
    Finally he said: ‘I told you the other day you were very like your mother. By God, I was right about that.’
    He got up. ‘I’ll go and see them now,’ he said. His voice was subdued. ‘I’ll see what can be done. But, well, if you’re absolutely set on this, I suppose I’ll have to find a way to make it happen.’

CHAPTER THIRTEEN
    I didn’t particularly want to see Matthew Kennedy that afternoon, but it just so happened that I went for a walk along the same stretch of road I’d seen him on the day before, and at about the same time. I mean, it’s a free country. I can walk where I want, when I want, and if some conceited guy on a horse happens to want to ride there too, well, it’s a big country as well as a free one, so I guess there’s room for us both.
    The main reason I went that way was that despite my courage in dealing with Mr Carruthers I was so terrified at what I’d done, and what the consequences might be, that I virtually hid for the rest of the day. I desperately didn’t want to see Ralph and Sylvia, and if the choice was between them and Matthew Kennedy, I’d settle for Matthew Kennedy.
    I knew it was really gutless to leave it all to Mr Carruthers. I remember hearing some saying once about people who make the bullets but then get other people to fire them. That was me all right. But I felt like I’d done enough for one day. No way could I have handled any more drama.
    I’d gone past the point where Matthew had left me the day before, and had just about given up and decided he wasn’t coming—not that I cared one way or the other—when I heard a brisk rat-a-tat-tat from behind.
    â€˜Winter! G’day!’ he said, slowing the horse to walk alongside me. He was on the chestnut again. ‘How’s it going? Ready for a riding lesson?’
    â€˜I’m not taking any riding lessons thanks very much. And certainly not from you.’
    â€˜You don’t know what you’re missing. I’ll have you know I got third in the under-ten Novice at the Christie Pony Club, a few years back.’
    â€˜Who was under ten? You or the horse?’
    â€˜Well, both of us actually.’
    We went a bit further, neither of us speaking.
    Then Matthew said: ‘Hey, are you all right? You look kind of stressed.’
    â€˜Thanks. That’s what a girl always likes to hear, that she’s looking her absolute best.’
    Usually he was the one laughing. This time I was trying to put him off by being funny, and he was determined to be serious.
    â€˜Hey, you really are upset about something aren’t you?’
    â€˜What are you, the school counsellor?’
    He swung himself off the horse, without even stopping him properly, which seemed pretty impressive. Holding the reins, Matthew walked alongside me, peering closely at my face. I’d forgotten that this was what I’d wanted, to meet him on equal terms. All I could think was how terrible I must look.
    But I had to say something. So I told him: ‘I just sacked Sylvia and Ralph.’
    I think apart from anything else I wanted reassurance that I’d done the right thing, that I hadn’t made some horrible mistake and turned a couple of aging and devoted servants out into the harsh winter. I was scared that Sylvia and Ralph might be the most popular people in the district.
    Matthew buckled at the knees. Only for a moment, but he really did