Chapter 23
A lone kookaburra cackled at Harry’s ute as he turned into his driveway, as if it was scolding him for returning from town with so little. He wove between potholes, trying not to think about the three meagre bags of groceries he’d brought home. The sales assistant had sounded heartbroken when she’d told him that the supermarket no longer accepted personal cheques. It was a good thing Lucas had taken such good care of his hens so at least there were plenty of eggs for them to eat. Maybe he should dig out a recipe book and try to find a new way to cook them. He and Uncle Willie were both getting a bit tired of omelettes. Not that Uncle would complain, so long as they could still afford to buy tea.
When he crested the small hill near the house, he noticed two things. Firstly, som
