"God," Miranda said, "it's not Spring Carnival time already, is it?"

She and Eric were walking through Flinders Street Station, because Miranda wanted to see the giant sculptures that had been placed on Swanston Street for the Melbourne Festival, and on their way out through the gates they passed a group of excited women in expensive-looking dresses and impractical hats.

Miranda turned to stare at them as they walked past, but Eric barely blinked. "Yeah" he said in answer to her question. "Sure it is."

"I thought that didn't start 'til November!"

"It's spring" Eric said. "The football's over. There's no cricket yet. So there's racing." He nodded his head to acknowledge a counter-point in his own mind. "Well, I mean there's racing all year 'round, but . . ."

Miranda narrowed her eyes and looked at him suspiciously. "How do you know so much about it?"

"My dad's into it" Eric said.

"Serious?"

"What, you don't think it's likely for my dad to be into horse-racing?"

"I don't think it's likely for anyone to be into horse-racing" Miranda replied.

"And yet they are." Eric shrugged. "He used to go to the races all the time. He can't any more, he's not mobile enough, but he used to go all the time."

"Did he bet?"

"A little. Mostly on the Melbourne Cup and the Caulfield Cup. Mainly he just liked watching the horses run. Feeling it. He used to get down as close as he could. Didn't like being up in the stands if he could help it."

"Huh" Miranda said in sudden understanding.

"What?" Eric asked suspiciously.

"Just doesn't seem likely" Miranda said.