'Well that's good,' Ruby says. 'He's an excellent person to get advice from on this.' It's hard for her to speak at all as she reels with shock at the news of Todd's correspondence with Jackson. She hasn't heard from him at all since he left, not that she'd expected to just the same, the fact that he's corresponding with Todd gives her a jolt. She gathers herself together in a long breath.

'The other thing you could do,' she says, forcing herself to concentrate on Todd, 'is to choose a course simply because it's something that you'd really enjoy. You'll be doing some bookkeeping and other things with Fleur, so you could pick something you're interested in just for itself.'

Todd c.o.c.ks his head on one side. 'Like what?'

'Well, I was thinking about all the reading you were doing with Catherine, and what you've read since then. You might want to think about a course that would put those books or books like them in a historical and social context for you, that would explain the issues in them and why they were important to the authors, and what the authors were actually trying to achieve in them.'

He looks puzzled. 'They were trying to write stories, weren't they?'

'Yes,' Ruby says, 'of course they were, but why those stories at those particular times? What did the authors want to say about the times and the places in which they lived, what influenced them? Because those books are much more than just good stories, they tell us a lot about what life was like, and what was important to the authors.'

Todd is silent for a moment, and Ruby could kick herself for boring him, for taking what is his pleasure and turning it into something else, something that probably sounds like the dreariest of lessons that he was thankful to abandon when he left school.

'That sounds cool,' he says. 'What would it be called?' And he turns back to the computer and opens another window.

'Well, probably something like understanding literature, or reading the cla.s.sics,' Ruby says. 'I'll help you look for it in a minute but I want to talk to you about something else first.'

He turns back to her, nodding.

'I know Declan's talked to you about the future,' she says, 'but I want to do that too. You know I'm leaving here soon?'

Todd nods again. 'I wish you wouldn't,' he says. 'I'm going to miss you.'

'Me too, Todd, and that's why I need to tell you this. If, at any time, you need help and Declan's not around, then I want you to know you can come to me. If you need money, or help in some other way, you can call or email. The other thing is that if you decide to go on the technical production course or do a different sort of training course, I'll pay for it.' She leans forward, her forearms resting on her knees. 'I don't have any children, Todd, and so obviously I don't have any grandchildren, but if I had a grandson I'd be enormously proud if he was like you. So I want to be there for you if you need it in the future.'

Todd rocks back and forth on his chair, arms clasped around his body. He looks awkward, unnerved, and he shakes his head.

'Everyone's so kind,' he says, his voice thick with emotion. 'I don't know why but it's like everything changed for me. First Catherine, then you and Declan, and everyone else. I don't understand . . .'

'It's because of you, Todd, because of the sort of person you are. As for the kindness well, we're really not that kind because none of us helped Paula. We all looked at Paula and saw a problem or a nuisance. None of us took the trouble to look beyond that to what was happening for her, to see what she needed, or question why she behaved as she did. So, don't start to think too well of us. Now let's have a look for some literature courses.'

Side by side they sit at the screen, and Todd prints out their findings to read later.

'Okay, time for me to get on with the dinner,' Ruby says eventually, getting up from her chair and heading for the door. 'By the way,' she says, turning back to him, unable to help herself, 'how is Jackson?'

'He's cool,' Todd says. 'He's going to Canada next week. Just him, not The Crowbars, it's not like a festival or concerts or anything, just something for the university.'

Ruby nods. 'Good,' she says. 'That's nice. I'm sure he's really good at that. Well, say h.e.l.lo to him from me when you email again.'

In the kitchen she opens the fridge and stares at the contents without seeing them. She holds the door open for so long that the alarm starts to beep and she closes it. And still unable to think about whatever it was she was going to cook, she sits down at the table, remembering the moment she first saw Jackson, how that felt visceral, certainly, but also so much more, the sense of a deeply intimate connection. Was he lying when he'd said he felt it too? Was it all just a figment of the florid imagination of an old woman grasping at youth, a desperate last attempt to find something that had eluded her for so long? She feels shamed by her self-delusion, shamed when she remembers standing naked in front of the mirror, shamed by the erotic dreams, and shamed most of all by the way she still can't quite let go of it.

Oh, she'll be all right, she knows that. And coming here has helped her to reclaim her past, and to make new friends. But she had briefly allowed herself a glimpse of other possibilities, and the more she thinks back on it the less clear she is about what was real and what was mere imagination.

It's time to leave. Time to take up her old life once again, and the sooner she does it, the better.

Ten days later she is home again. Islington in August is mild and pleasantly green, but as she walks through Highbury Fields, sits on a bench watching the joggers with their iPods and mothers strolling with their toddlers in pushers, Ruby struggles to find her place.

'Perhaps this is how astronauts feel,' she attempts to joke with Jessica, 'totally disorientated and struggling with re-entry.'

'That's a good way of putting it!' Jessica says. 'A few more days and you'll be through the jetlag and back to normal. And you don't have to go back again, you know. When you've decided what you want to do about Benson's Reach you can let them know in writing or send someone else. I can go for you if that helps.'

But Jessica doesn't know how it was to be there, to be in the house where she had once lost everything, and then to think she had found it again. And Ruby can't begin to explain the magic of four such different people, each with their own problems, connecting in such a profoundly satisfying way. Why couldn't you have been satisfied with everything else that happened? she asks herself. You found love with them, why did you have to run after another sort of love as well? It should have been enough but she had wanted more, and in that wanting she had deluded herself. Well, she has lost love before, through war and politics, through death and deceit, and she has recovered, so she supposes she will also recover from this.

Think how fortunate you were, she tells herself, remembering the pleasures and satisfactions of the last few months. Think of Paula, who had so little and lost it all. Get up, get back to work, get on with your fortunate life you've done it before and you can do it again. But she knows that this time it will be harder because what she has lost is a dream and one can only lose so many dreams in a lifetime.

But time does work its old magic and in the weeks that follow she feels she is waiting, waiting for it to be time to go back, to tie up the loose ends. Catherine had asked for a year, but what difference will a few months make? To distract herself she employs a builder to fix the roof and add a small conservatory at the back of the house, which she has planned for years. At least one item can now be crossed off her bucket list. And over and over again she ponders her plan for Benson's. But most of all she thinks of the future and what it means to be old: to be a woman who had learned to be entirely comfortable alone but who stumbles and injures herself while grasping at the chance to feel young, to be wanted, to be precious, to come first with someone once again. Old age looks different, less attractive, today from the way it looked a year ago.

And then early one morning in late October she stoops to collect The Guardian from the doormat and reads that next month the Australian prime minister is to move a motion in parliament to apologise to the child migrants for the hardship and neglect they suffered in Australia. Ruby has to grasp the back of a chair to steady herself. Finding her mother and discovering the truth of what had happened all those years ago had resolved only part of her story. The greater story of the ruthless and unlawful removal of thousands of children the horrors perpetrated on them, the misery, the humiliation, the shame remains. The lies and denials, the defensive rationales, have all raged back and forth against the background of increasingly poignant and painful personal stories. At last, after all this time, there is at least to be acknowledgement, validation; someone is finally willing to say sorry.

Restless with a churning mix of emotions, Ruby puts aside the newspaper, pulls on her old anorak and boots and goes outside to burn off some of her nervous energy in the garden. And with little awareness of what she is doing she pounds back and forth, digging, hoeing, clipping, dumping and finally, as she rakes leaves from the lawn, she comes to an abrupt halt.

'Sorry, Cat,' she says aloud. 'I've done my best, and I need it to be finished now. I need to let go of the reins. They don't need me to sit on my hands for the next few months.' And she drops the rake, goes back into the house and books a fight to Perth.

In the arrivals hall Alice pushes her way through the waiting crowd to the barrier. The drive took longer than it should have and Declan has dropped her and gone to park the car. For the last half-hour, as they seemed to catch every red traffic light and get stuck behind truck after truck, she had thought they weren't going to make it in time. As Alice weaves through the crush she can feel the impatience of the people waiting for the appearance of the first pa.s.sengers. Relieved to have made it in time she takes a deep breath and positions herself close to the barrier from where she can see both exits from the customs hall.

'Can you book me a car, please?' Ruby had asked in her email. 'I'll drive straight down from the airport.'

'Do you think something's wrong?' Declan had asked when he showed Alice the email. 'She said she wouldn't be back until February.'

'What could be wrong?' Alice had asked. 'She's probably just decided to sort things out sooner. Or maybe she wants to escape another English winter. In any case, what difference would another few months make? The year was only Catherine's idea.'

But Declan is obviously worried by this sudden change of plan. For her own part Alice is longing to see Ruby again. She realises now how firmly but discreetly Ruby had taken charge when she first arrived, and then how carefully and respectfully she had slowly released control to Declan, and then to herself. By the time Ruby left, although they missed her company, they were managing the place between them. This, Alice suspects, was always Ruby's plan a way of supporting Declan and encouraging her to think beyond the cafe and broaden her understanding of the business. It worked, and now she wants to show Ruby the changes they've made: the different reservations system, the reorganisation of the shop with its new range of merchandise, and the decision to abandon the berries and replace them with more lavender to meet the antic.i.p.ated demand of the online business. It's good, she thinks, that Ruby will see it all at the start of the season rather than the end.

The doors open and the first pa.s.sengers begin to emerge. Lone men in crumpled business suits hurry purposefully out, scanning the small cl.u.s.ter of drivers holding up name cards. Young couples, old couples, exhausted parents with fractious children, are greeted with whoops of delight by families and friends and block the exits with their trolleys piled high with luggage. And then, behind a huge man with an equally huge suitcase, there is Ruby. Looking older, Alice thinks, and tired.

Ruby hesitates, seeking the easiest route through the crowd.

'Ruby!' Alice calls, waving. 'Ruby! This way, over here.'

Ruby looks into the crowd, her face lights up and she does a swift manoeuvre with her trolley and slips through a gap to reach her. 'You shouldn't have come all this way,' she says as Alice hugs her, 'but I'm awfully glad you did. What a lovely surprise.'

And Alice can see that there are tears in Ruby's eyes. They edge out through the crowd to the exit where Declan is waiting.

'You too,' Ruby cries, 'how lovely of you both to come. I feel so spoiled being met.'

In minutes they are heading out of the airport to Fremantle for lunch before the long drive south.

'I've something to show you,' Alice says when they have found a table and ordered their meal. She reaches into her bag and takes out a postcard with a picture of dolphins and hands it to Ruby.

'Hmm, what's this then?' Ruby asks, smiling as though she's already guessed.

'Turn it over,' Alice says, 'read it.'

Ruby turns the card over. 'From Jodie?' And she reads the carefully written message, looks up, smiling, and grasps Alice's hand. 'Alice, how wonderful, you must be over the moon.'

Alice nods. 'I could hardly believe it. She was on a school camp in Exmouth. Isn't it amazing? The photograph and then this it makes me feel so . . . well, so hopeful.'

'She's been a different woman since it arrived,' Declan says. 'I think it's a really good sign, don't you, Ruby? Another step forward. I know it's only a small one but it's important.'

'Absolutely. It'll take a while, Alice, but I think you have plenty of grounds now for optimism.'

The waiter brings cutlery and gla.s.ses to the table and they settle back in their seats, but Alice can feel the tension and she knows this is not going to be an easy ride. Declan is bursting with questions, and she too is anxious to know what the future holds for both of them and for Benson's. But Ruby is a person who cares about process: whatever her decision means for all of them she won't want to discuss it at a restaurant table, nor in a moving car. It will happen later, at the big table in Benson's kitchen where the other decisions about the business have been made. The tension weaves its way through the conversation, causing abrupt silences and nervous laughs, and it lessens only when they are on the road and Ruby tilts her seat and closes her eyes. She is asleep in minutes and Alice leans forward from the back seat to put her hand on Declan's shoulder.

'It's going to be okay,' she says. 'I'm sure it is. It won't be long now.'

And he smiles at her in the driving mirror and nods, and keeps on driving as though his life depends upon it.

t's clear that Ruby notices it the minute she walks into the shop. She stops, looks around, waves h.e.l.lo to Lesley, who is handing a credit card back to a customer, hesitates and then goes straight to the big display by the window. Lesley puts the customer's purchases into a Benson's carrier bag and comes out from behind the counter.

'h.e.l.lo, Ruby,' she says, 'great to see you back again.'

Ruby looks up, smiling. 'h.e.l.lo, Lesley. These are just beautiful,' and she picks up a small, lavender-scented elephant made of purple corduroy. 'This display is terrific and you've completely transformed the shop.'

'Well, Fleur and me together,' Lesley says, delighted at Ruby's evident appreciation. 'And we are pretty happy with it. And the toys and pillows and the lavender bags are selling really well. We think they'll do even better as we get closer to Christmas. They make lovely little gifts.'

Ruby keeps hold of the elephant and picks up a floral cotton hippo. 'They're gorgeous do you think you're charging enough?'

'We talk endlessly about that,' Lesley says with a laugh. 'We might raise the prices a bit, but we're very caught up on the idea that every ten dollars means five birthing kits and if people like them and they're appropriately priced, they'll come back for more.'

Another customer arrives and she leaves Ruby to browse, thinking that she looks worn out and a bit fragile, unlike her usual robust, energetic self. There is a series of customers now, but Ruby continues to move around the shop looking closely at the new range of silver jewellery, the locally made beads and scarves, the novelty bottle openers, the hand woven baskets and boxes, chopping boards, bowls and mugs. And she stops even longer to check the lavender products with their new, more elegant containers and labels.

'I really like the way you've developed that separate range for men,' Ruby says when Lesley is free again. 'I know they're not all new products, but they got lost among the others and differentiating the packaging makes a big difference.'

Lesley nods. 'Yes, and Fleur's working on baby products now, nappy cream, powder we could have another complete range. The online business is shaping up well too. I can talk you through it later if you like. Fleur's actually away for a week, having a break in Bali.'

'Good, I'm sure she can do with it. I'm very glad that we were able to encourage her to stay on. And what about you, Lesley? You've been through a bit of a rough time.'

'I have but it's a lot better now. Gordon and I are working things out. I think we're going to be fine. Things have changed for me, Ruby, and I've changed. It's not just working here, I've got involved with the women's group in Bunbury it was through someone there that Paula first heard about the birthing kits. It's Zonta you know all about them. I'm really enjoying it. This probably sounds really silly but I honestly think that coming here has helped me to grow up. A bit late I should have grown up decades ago.'

'It doesn't sound silly at all,' Ruby says, putting the things she's holding down on the counter. 'I'm much older than you and right now I'm battling with a serious bit of growing up myself. Perhaps it never stops. One can only hope it's a continuing state of improvement, but sometimes it just feels like a mammoth pain in the b.u.t.t.'

'I got you a present,' Todd says, and as he hands over the carefully wrapped parcel he is suddenly crippled with embarra.s.sment. 'It's only small, and you've probably got it already, but . . . it looked sort of special.'

Ruby takes the package from him and begins to unwrap it. Thankfully she doesn't say anything like 'Oh, you shouldn't have', or 'You didn't need to buy me a present', which is the sort of c.r.a.p adults do all the time. Everybody likes getting presents, even old people. In fact, Todd thinks, they must like it more because they probably get fewer presents as they get older.

Ruby discards the wrapping and turns the book over to read the t.i.tle. 'Oh, Todd, it's beautiful,' she says, and he can see from the way her face is all lit up that she's really pleased. It's a copy of Madam Bovary, bound in navy blue leather with gold lettering, and gold edges on the pages that are thin as tissue and light as silk. He'd never seen pages like that before.

'It's not new,' he says, blushing. 'I got it in the secondhand bookshop. I liked the cover, and the gold bits. I thought you'd like that too.'

'I love it,' Ruby says, and she hugs him. 'I shall treasure it.'

'Have you got it already?'

'I did have,' she says, 'but I lent it to someone and never got it back. And this one is so much nicer. Did you read Catherine's copy?'

He nods. 'Yep.'

'And did you learn something about women, like she said?'

'I think so,' Todd says cautiously, 'and I learned something about writers.'

'Really?'

He turns around and takes Catherine's copy down from the shelf. 'I actually learned it in the introduction it's by Anita somebody.'

'Brookner.'

'Yes, Brookner, that's right. You see here,' he says, pointing to the first page of the introduction, 'she says that Flaubert said, "Madame Bovary c'est moi!", which means "Madame Bovary that's me!" and she sort of explains about how writers identify with characters, like get inside them and tell stories through them. I never thought about that before. And you know, the subt.i.tle is "Life in a Country Town". And Alice said to me that it could be like Margaret River, and once you know that you can just go and sit outside one of the cafes in town and you can see all the characters going past. So we did it one day, me and Alice, we sat on that seat near Target and watched, and we said that could be Emma, and that man looks like Charles or Rodolphe. And it made me think all those people could be in stories too, they have stories. Like you, Ruby, you have a story that Flaubert could have written . . . you and Catherine and Declan's Uncle Harry . . .' He stops abruptly, shocked by what he's just said. 'Sorry,' he says, blushing, 'sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I didn't mean . . .' He wishes he could just sink into the ground and disappear.

'It's okay,' Ruby says. 'Catherine and I we had a long story and it ended really badly and for a very long time I couldn't forgive her. For years and years she was the most important person in my life but I was so hurt by what happened here that I chose to bury the good and remember the bad. And you're right, it is a story that Flaubert could have written. Thank you so much for my book.'

Todd nods, relieved that he got the present right, and that perhaps what he'd said wasn't too bad after all. 'You're not coming back again after this, are you?' he says abruptly.

Ruby looks taken aback. 'Who told you that?'

He shrugs. 'No one, I worked it out. You came back now for the prime minister's apology, to be here while it happens. It's like an ending.'

He sees Ruby swallow and she seems to be struggling for words. 'You got it in one,' she says eventually. 'How did you get to be so smart?'

He grins and shrugs. 'Must be mixing with all you olds all the time,' he says, and suddenly he feels as though he's crumbling, and he stumbles over to her and she opens her arms and grabs him. 'I love you, Ruby,' he says, 'I wish you'd stay.'

'I know, Todd,' she says, hanging on to him tightly. 'And I love you too, but we'll see each other again. Not for a while yet, but I'll come back here as a visitor. And you'll come to London, I know you will. I'll show you my big untidy house, and introduce you to my friends, and I'll take you to see all the places you need to see in London. In fact we can make a plan before I leave. You should come next June, when the English raspberries are in season. You've never really tasted raspberries until you've picked from the canes at the start of an English summer.'

Todd nods, rubbing his eyes on the sleeve of his sweatshirt. 'Cool,' he says, 'that'd be cool. But it won't be the same.'

'No,' she says, 'no it won't, but it might be even better. All your life, Todd, people will come and go, and it will be wonderful and it will be awful, and when you get to be ancient like me, all those people and their stories, good and not so good, will be part of who you are. We'll all be talking to you from the past, making up a big jigsaw of your life. I want to be a part of your jigsaw, so we will see each other again, many times, I think, and we'll make many more pieces of the jigsaw.'

It's early evening when they finally sit down together at the kitchen table. Declan doesn't know how he's got through the day because, despite her rea.s.surances and the fact that he knows that Ruby believes he's put his heart and soul into Benson's, he has continued to feel as though he's on probation. Perhaps it's the legacy of his past work failures and disastrous lifestyle choices together with his chequered relationship with Catherine, but in many ways he feels he doesn't have a right to the place and that to lose it now would be the sort of punishment he deserves. If Ruby wants to sell it's most unlikely he could borrow enough to buy her out, and he dreads the prospect of a new partner one who would have Ruby's controlling share.

'Somehow this feels rather formal,' Ruby says. 'That's not what I intended, but I do think this is pretty important to all three of us so perhaps it's as it should be.'

'Shouldn't it be just you and Declan?' Alice says. 'It's between the two of you, you're the partners.'

Declan opens his mouth to say something but his throat is so dry with nerves that he just starts coughing. What he wants to do is beg her to stay, to be here with him through whatever it is Ruby has to say, but now he can't stop coughing. Alice gets up to fetch a gla.s.s of water and puts it on the table in front of him.

'Okay?' Ruby asks, looking at him with concern. 'Are you okay? If not we can do this later, or tomorrow . . .'

'No,' Declan gasps, and gulps at the water. 'No, no, let's do it now, and, please, Alice-'

'Alice, you need to stay,' Ruby cuts in. 'We both need you to stay.'

And Declan nods furiously as he always does when nervous, and he swallows more water.

'Good, well I'll keep it simple,' Ruby says. 'I have a plan that I want to put to you. I'd sort of come to this position before I left but I felt we should all take a bit more time before making the final decisions. I'm absolutely clear about my preferred solution for dealing with my share of Benson's.'

Declan coughs again, and Alice refills his gla.s.s.

'So the first thing is, Declan, that I am going to transfer enough of my share to you to bring your share up to fifty per cent.'