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not surprised when Rupe came charging in.
    ‘We’ll have to shed up now or we’ll be too late. Give Ian a ring and tell him I’ll swing half the mob over to his place. He’ll give me a hand. You can put these into the shed here. The boys will be home in a few minutes, so they’ll help you.’
    He charged off and Frances eyed the phone reluctantly. To her joy Jenny came out and she was able to pass on the message. Jenny rang as Frances fled, calling Scamp and Fay to follow.
    Frances went first to the woolshed, opening the gates as she did. The yards were well kept, the posts concrete or tanalised wood. She realised that by keeping the mob to the side she could pen up much more quickly. Although she had no experience she remembered what Rupe had told her. The dogs soon had the sheep running up into the shed. Fay was a wonder dog, seeming to be in ten places at once. The two younger boys appeared on the scene: Thad had apparently joined his father. Together, they worked steadily, if noisily. Ivan the Terrible was doing an unconscious imitation of his father and Frances had to work hard to keep her face straight. When the sheep jammed up Ivan sent Fay scampering on to the top of the woolly wall, soon clearing a space. Frances went into the shed to spread the sheep evenly. That took her a long time, but she knew it was important that the sheep were not packed in too tightly. Rupe had explained it to her over lunch. Finally, satisfied, she glanced round the shed. The odour of sheep was distinctive but at this point was unpleasant. The shed was much older than the rest of the buildings on the farm. The building was not large, but it was sufficient to hold six hundred sheep. There were four big pens plus three shearers’ holding pens. The gates were designed to lift up as well as sideways and shedding up Frances had appreciated their design. She was standing now along the shearing floor and could see a press and bins in the background. She was surprised at how dark it had grown and wondered if Rupe had managed to get the other mob penned safely. The boys were anxiously waiting for her to join them and she decided to drive over to help Rupe. Gleefully Ivan ran to get her keys while Greg and she headed to the garage.
    It was the first time the boys had been in a Mini and they showed their delight in their questions. As Frances had not the vaguest notion as to where Ian lived Ivan and Greg both gave her a running commentary. She was glad of the distraction as it kept her mind off meeting Ian. Regardless of what she thought, it was obvious that the small boys thought he was Superman, Batman and Spiderman wrapped in one package.
    Now they could see the neighbouring stockyards, and Frances drew in her breath at the sight. They seemed a vast network and the woolshed was enormous. She' pulled up neatly and the boys jumped out, running eagerly to join their father. Fay had followed them and raced to Rupe too.
    Glancing quickly up at the sky, Frances was aware of the heavy clouds. She joined in with helping push the sheep forward and was rewarded with a quick nod of thanks from Rupe. Lightning flared brightly as they fought to get the rest of the mob under cover. The crashing of thunder echoed in the mountains, followed by the rain. It came in great sheets, relentlessly soaking everything in its path, great plops mixing to instant mud in the dusty yards. Rupert swung the main gate down not wanting the sheep outside to dampen the dry inside. There were about thirty left out and he seemed unconcerned about those few. He asked Fran to shift them into one of the bigger old yards where some grass was growing and the sheep were only too happy to move.
    Conscious of her rain-soaked body, she moved quickly, and had soon finished. She returned to the shed where Ian and Rupe were finishing penning Up. She had to admire their skill ruefully, remembering her own efforts.
    ‘You remember Frances?’ Rupe said to Ian when they stood on the board