Fuzzy headed and blinking in the morning glare, one by one the family gathered in the kitchen.
Elizabeth had laid out a late, light breakfast and fussed over her brood, which now included Peter, checking they all looked respectable as they climbed into the car.
"Church is not all that far away," she told him, but Peter didn't hear. He was too busy holding Jennifer's hand and drowning in the depths of her eyes.
For once, Andrew was silent, possibly, because that damned duck's head had pointed to him so often that he ended up drinking most of the beer on the table.
The church, as Elizabeth called it, was no ordinary country church but a gothic cathedral endowed with a massive pipe organ, wonderful stained glass windows, magnificent hand-hewn sand-stone, walls and a history going back to the gold rushes.
Peter's appearance beside Jennifer caused a stir in the congregation and proudly he held himself tall as he took her arm to walk beside her down the aisle. Lustily he sang the hymns and knelt in prayer beside his love.
Together with her, he took communion and, as he walked back down the aisle to their pew, he fervently prayed that Jennifer would one day be dressed in a white bridal gown walking beside him as his wife.
Eric introduced Peter to the Bishop who was most gracious and friendly in his welcome.
However, the Bishop couldn't refrain from teasing Jennifer about her man. "I'm surprised Jennifer. I heard you had captured a wild Irishman. Glad he knows how to pray."
Smiling broadly, he turned to speak to the next parishioner.
Immediately after breakfast the next day, Jennifer handed Peter a picnic basket.
"We're off down to the creek for a picnic." Her eyes twinkled as she walked off carrying cushions and a rug. "It's been years since I've been down to the creek. Not since Andrew and I were children."
Past the shearing shed, the shearers' quarters and the sheep yard she led the way with Peter dawdling behind, across the wheat stubble towards the distant line of weeping willows, she-oaks and peppercorns.
Firmly fixed on her hips swaying so enticingly under the flared skirt, Peter's eyes did not waver.
As he caught up to her she linked an arm through his.
"We used to hide down here whenever we'd been naughty," she smiled up at him. "It's still the same, after all these years."
He didn't fail to notice the buttons on her blouse, undone just enough to reveal the white tops of her silken breasts.
Unaware of his glance, Jennifer seemed captivated by the setting. She let go the cushions and rug and they tumbled on the ground. Freed of the bulky bundle, she threw her arms out and twirled around, her head back and her hair hanging free.
"This is it!" She cried excitedly, slowing down a little. "Spread the rug out here." She laughed as she came to a standstill, pointing to an area under the largest willow.
Not daring to break into her mood, Peter watched her investigate the clearing.
"It's just like I remember it," she repeated as she examined each section. Shyly, she suddenly dropped her voice almost to a whisper, "Now you're here, it's just like I had imagined when a little girl."
They talked - well - Jennifer talked, while Peter was her captive audience.
Filtering through the trees, the sunlight gave their world a strange mellow light, and the bottlebrushes separating them from the outside world added an insulating barrier against the heat. The babble of the creek and the twittering of birds was the melody to which Jennifer reminisced.
Heads cocked to one side, four magpies strutted towards them as if to enquire why they were there. Satisfied that the humans meant them no harm, they threw their heads back and caroled their welcome to the two visitors.
At last, lunch eaten, the lovers grew silent. Quietly they lay in each other's arms, enjoying the peace in their souls.
Peter knew the time had arrived and didn't shrink for fear of refusal.
"Jennifer, there is something, I must ask you. Every time I've tried..."
Jennifer put two fingers to Peter's lips and smiled with a knowing, amused look in her eyes. "I won't stop you this time," she whispered softly.
For minutes, silently, not daring to breathe, they stared into each other's eyes until Peter stood, lifting Jennifer to her feet. Holding her hands, he dropped to his knees and looked up at her face.
The world seemed to become quiet and still, as if holding its breath in anticipation, even the birds were silent.
