31
Rachel didn’t emerge from her room until three o’clock. She’d heard Esther leave the house ages ago.
Naomi called from the kitchen, “I’ve put the kettle on. Come and sit with me on the verandah for a while.”
Gran had sharp hearing. She’d probably heard the tiff in the garden. Esther was easy to brush off, but she couldn’t do the same with Gran. Not to the one person who had cared for her when she’d first run away. It hadn’t been a lack of care that had made her run again. Gran couldn’t help it that the word Jesus gave Rachel the shakes. And the word had echoed around her grandmother’s home.
Rachel looked out into the back garden. “The laundry will be dry. Why don’t I bring that in first.”
“Thanks, honey.”
Honey. When men had said the word, it meant they wanted something. When Gran
