Chapter Seven
It was a hot Sunday afternoon in early summer. The flush of flowers at Benbullen had begun to wane, though late spring rains meant the pastures remained lush and green. The garden took on an attractive, unkempt appearance as Beth’s sporadic pruning failed to match its rampant growth.
The children were at Mark’s house and Noah was visiting his parents in Ballarat. Beth didn’t relish spending the whole weekend alone, so she’d invited Karen and Paul over for lunch, along with eleven-year-old Rebecca and nine-year-old Simon.
They all lined up to watch as Rebecca tried to ride Skittles over several small jumps. A combination of heat and laziness made the pony less than keen. With much whooping and flapping of arms and legs, Rebecca rode towards a pole resting on some bricks. Sk
