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Chapters (52)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Tricia Stringer
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. Chapter 1
  7. Chapter 2
  8. Chapter 3
  9. Chapter 4
  10. Chapter 5
  11. Chapter 6
  12. Chapter 7
  13. Chapter 8
  14. Chapter 9
  15. Chapter 10
  16. Chapter 11
  17. Chapter 12
  18. Chapter 13
  19. Chapter 14
  20. Chapter 15
  21. Chapter 16
  22. Chapter 17
  23. Chapter 18
  24. Chapter 19
  25. Chapter 20
  26. Chapter 21
  27. Chapter 22
  28. Chapter 23
  29. Chapter 24
  30. Chapter 25
  31. Chapter 26
  32. Chapter 27
  33. Chapter 28
  34. Chapter 29
  35. Chapter 30
  36. Chapter 31
  37. Chapter 32
  38. Chapter 33
  39. Chapter 34
  40. Chapter 35
  41. Chapter 36
  42. Chapter 37
  43. Chapter 38
  44. Chapter 39
  45. Chapter 40
  46. Chapter 41
  47. Chapter 42
  48. Chapter 43
  49. Chapter 44
  50. Chapter 45
  51. Chapter 46
  52. Acknowledgements

The dog rushed forward and licked the tears that rolled down her cheeks.

Chapter 41

CHAPTER

41

Paula woke with a start. The sheet was twisted all around her and the air was warm. The only respite was the breeze from the overhead fan blowing gently over her damp skin. She rolled over and sat up quickly. Morning light filtered into the room but Dan wasn’t there. Why hadn’t he come home? This would be his third day away fighting the fire, instead of one, but he’d said the fire was under control when he’d rung last night. She glanced at the bedside clock but little black spots danced before her eyes and she clutched at the sheet.

Gingerly she opened her eyes again and the clock came into focus. It was nearly six o’clock. She pushed away the sheets that clung to her and slid her bulky body off the bed. Yesterday afternoon she’d had to make a few dashes to the toilet with mild bouts of diarrhoea but this morning her stomach had settled and the pain in her back had finally faded to a dull ache.

Last night she’d gone alone to birthing class. The exercises she’d learned there must have helped, along with the cool bath she’d had when she’d returned home. She had gone to bed feeling cooler and more comfortable than she had all day. She’d slept soundly. After some restless days and nights, her body must have been making up for lost time.

She pulled on a loose dress and went into the passage. Perhaps Dan was in the kitchen letting her sleep. She pushed open the door from the passage to the back of the house.

“Dan?” There was no reply. She stopped abruptly and sniffed the air. She could smell smoke. The weight of the baby on her bladder urged her to the toilet. In the back verandah, the smell of smoke was stronger.

“Dan?” she called again. She listened but could hear nothing but the wind flapping a loose sheet of iron over the back door and buffeting the prefab walls of the verandah. Dan’s boots weren’t in their usual spot.

She opened the back door and stepped out into the hot wind. Already the sun was a huge red ball in the hazy sky. Paula looked in every direction. There was no sign of smoke. It must be the smell carrying on the wind. Back before Christmas, there had been a fire on Kangaroo Island and they had smelled the smoke. It carried a long way.