We came down into Apollo Bay in the afternoon, me, Father and our donkey, Diligence, after we had delivered all our orders and sold out. We do this every couple of weeks. My great-grandfather set up Warrender’s Superfine Spices. We sell the best spices, herbs, medicines and necessities. The things a lonely station owner or lone housewife cannot get in the main shipment of flour, sugar, oats, and so on. Around here those usually come in on a ship every three months. The roads in the interior are unmade and either muddy or sandy. And steep. So we supply the small things which make life sweeter and nicer: ginger for gingerbread, mace and nutmeg for junket, cloves for baked apples, custard powder and mustard powder and curry powder and flea powder and citronella oil to repel bugs. At very reasonable prices. We don’t need to do this, of course. Father is very wealthy. But after my mother died he wanted to get away and continue to talk to God. He talks to God a lot. And in the bush and near the sea there aren’t many people to interrupt him.
