Chapter 12
Kim pulled in behind a row of cars at the Tingo Memorial Hall. It was the first time she’d been out socially among strangers for more than two years, and she felt sick.
Jake grabbed the Tupperware container off the back seat and jumped from the car. Abbey’s fingers crept into Kim’s hand. ‘Mummy, are you alright?’
Kim gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. Trust Abbey to understand. Her daughter was a living, breathing, emotional barometer. ‘I’m fine, darling. Let’s go.’
The little hall, like Doctor Who’s Tardis, seemed larger inside than out. Kim stood by the door, holding Abbey’s hand. The interior was a time capsule. Displays of black and white photographs: timber-cutters, plough horses, rows of children sitting outside Tingo’s schoolhouse in nineteenth-century clothes. Chint
