Furious with Kylie and her move to Daintree, I thundered home, kicking up dust, skidding on the gravel as I rammed on the brakes and swung the car into my driveway. I had enough fire in me to light the whole of Croajingolong.
Two door slams and I was in my kitchen with Sam looking up at me, startled. The fire was out. The day was warm but inside wasn’t. I set about fetching wood and kindling. By the time the firebox blazed, my own rage had lessened. It settled down even more when I threw Kylie’s letter on the flaming logs. It smouldered then caught alight, turned to grey ash and disappeared.
I couldn’t make my daughter disappear. Damn Kylie and her wilful nature. I sat back in the battered armchair feeling I’d been cut off from my own blood. Axed. It occurred to me I could head up there.
