combat?’
‘With sumo wrestlers,’ Amy guessed. ‘I’d imagine he takes on ten every morning before breakfast.’
‘And now we’ve taken his steak,’ Rachel said mournfully. ‘Buster, how could you?’ She giggled and Amy thought wow, her sister was giggling. She giggled back and it was a gorgeous moment.
And then a camel hove into view. Another one, racing the train.
But only one?
In the dining car they’d been able to see out both sides of the train. Now, back in their tiny compartment, they could only see the right side of the train.
Rachel was looking out, entranced, at the lone camel and Amy couldn’t resist; she opened the door to the corridor to see if more camels were racing on the far side.
There were. Five of them.
‘Oh,’ Rachel breathed. ‘I wonder if Maudie’s seeing…’
‘Buster!’
And for one fatal moment they’d been distracted. For one moment they’d had the door wide open and had been staring in delight at camels.
And Buster, fourteen years old, sleeping out his days content to be with the people he loved and the occasional sunbeam, had just had rump steak for dinner—and he’d looked up and seen camels!
The camels were gaining on the train. They were stretching out away from the near windows.
And Buster, a tiny dog in spirit but a guard dog at heart, went flying along the corridor in pursuit, barking as if he were a hound in full cry.
No!
Amy flew along the corridor after him, her heart in her mouth. Luckily, the end of the carriage was the door through to the next car. He could go no further—but he was still barking.
No!
She reached him and scooped him up and tucked him under her sweater, just as compartment doors started to open.
‘A dog…’ An elderly man with a walking stick was staring in horror in both directions. ‘Did you see a dog? Who’s barking?’
‘It must have been outside the train,’ Amy said, beetling past him with her bulge held away. Praying his eyesight wasn’t good.
‘I heard a dog.’ It was a young mother. ‘I hate dogs. Our Polly’s allergic.’
‘I didn’t see a dog,’ Amy lied and bolted for their compartment.
‘Did you see a dog?’ the young woman demanded of Rachel, who was outside their compartment looking worried.
‘It was racing the camels,’ Rachel managed, trying to retreat as well. ‘I think it was a dingo.’
‘But it sounded like it was in the train,’ the woman said.
‘I think you should report it to the conductor.’
‘I need to go to bed,’ Rachel said, and retreated into the compartment after Amy.
She slammed the door, still giggling.
But Amy wasn’t giggling. That had been too close for comfort.
She knew it had been a really bad plan to bring Buster, but what choice did she have? Rachel had hugged Buster since she’d come home from hospital. Rachel’s life was hugging her dog and reading her textbooks.
The Ghan had been a dream they’d shared since they were children, to travel through the outback, to see their grandmother’s birthplace, to see the rocks Rachel loved.
It might just haul her out of her misery, Amy had thought, and it was starting to, but ooh, Buster-smuggling could cause complications. Rachel was giggling, but at what price?
‘She won’t go find the conductor,’ Rachel decreed. ‘She won’t leave those appalling children. I’ve met them in the bathroom and they’re awful.’
‘The other guy might.’
‘It doesn’t matter. Buster’s hidden now. He’s safe.’ Rachel looked fondly at Buster, who was peering innocently out from under Amy’s sweater. ‘What a good thing you wore that.’
‘It has its uses. But if anyone searches…’
‘They won’t. And they don’t need to come in here. It’s not like we’re in a classy cabin that has turn downs.’
They weren’t. They’d requested their beds stay up all the time—’as Rachel needs to rest’. No one needed to come near them.
And Rachel was smiling.
Okay, she could live with this.
‘Bed,’ Rachel said. ‘Buster can come under the covers with me. If anyone looks in, we’re fast asleep.’
‘I’d like a shower,’ Amy said doubtfully. ‘But I might wait for a few minutes, just to be sure.’
‘You do that,’ Rachel said and retired to her bunk, Buster with her.
Amy waited for half an hour, holding her breath the whole time.
Nothing.
Rachel and Buster fell asleep.
Okay, they were fine.
She took her towel and pyjamas to the bathroom at the end of the carriage. She showered and washed her hair. She also tried, weirdly, not to think about Hugo. Which was nuts. She had enough to think about without worrying about Hugo Thurston.
She’d seen Rachel smile. She should be happy.
She was happy. She emerged from the bathroom feeling clean and determinedly cheerful.
The conductor was emerging from the second compartment.
‘Miss,’ he said as he saw her, ‘have you seen a dog?’
Miss stopped in her tracks. To say she felt at a disadvantage was an understatement. She was wearing pink satin pyjamas with cream lace trimming, with fluffy pink flip-flops to match. She’d bought Rachel beautiful nightwear when she’d moved from hospital to rehab. Normally Amy slept in a T-shirt and knickers, but on the train, with a shared bathroom, Rachel had decreed they’d share her pretty ones.
So she was respectable—almost—but she didn’t feel respectable. She felt numb with panic. She stared down at her pink-painted toenails in her fluffy pink flip flops and tried to decide what to say.
Had she seen a dog?
‘Urn… no,’ she lied.
‘We’ve had a report there’s a dog in this carriage,’ the man said. ‘I’ve had orders to search.’
‘Ooh,’
