Poppy spent a sleepless night. By the time first light tiptoed through the trees, she’d come to some painful conclusions about who she was and the beliefs she’d accepted without question all her life.
Now that she’d made her decision, Poppy was in a hurry to get it over with. She’d packed her things the night before, murmuring apologies to the absent Nullah for raiding the kitchen cupboards: some food, a knife, fork and spoon, a small saucepan. It was safer to stock up at Brumby’s Run rather than risk being seen shopping in town. She tried not to think of it as stealing – more like borrowing. Finally, she borrowed the little transistor radio on the bench, collected her pot plants from the sill and took a final look around. There, all done.
Poppy drove into Currajong, nerves ajangle, marv
