Chapter 18
The wind was bending the jacaranda tree, sending its blossom across the garden like unruly confetti. A branch staggered across the lawn, bouncing, twitching in blasts of air as it lay on the ground. Susan had her nose pressed to the glass in the door. A rattan chair blew over onto its side then clattered down the steps. She opened the door, just a fraction; she wanted a clearer view of the storm. A palm tree shook and swayed. Gusts whistled and thumped around the house. There was a bang from the end of the garden as a pot blew over and crashed onto the path.
“Susan, don’t, there’s a terrible draught.”
She closed the door gently. Her mother was playing cards. With tears in her eyes, Susan watched her. She wanted everything to be normal again. She wanted comfort from her mother
