While reading the feminist classic, My Brilliant Career, many years ago, I realised that not all stories have what I would consider a happy ending. The deliciously handsome (and rich and kind) Harold travels the arid, broiling Australian outback in order to propose to wild-haired, ambitious Sybylla. His ardour could only have increased when he sees her, muddy and exhausted, pulling a cow out of a swamp. My love-starved, teenage heart soared. This was it. They would fall into each other’s arms and they could live happily together in his lovely, well-watered estate. Except… they don’t.