‘Where are you staying?’ he asked.

Usually I’d advise women not to tell strange men the exact location of their whereabouts, but as I was leaving, I didn’t see a problem. ‘I was staying there,’ I said, gesturing behind us towards Xiang’s shack.

‘Was?’

‘One night was more than enough.’

Dan snorted. ‘I don’t blame you—that place is probably a demolition order waiting to happen—but it’s a pity.’

Did he mean the state of the shack was a pity or the fact I was leaving? His expression was hard to decipher.

I shook my head. The answer didn’t matter. ‘Do you live out on that island?’

‘No. I was just feeding the cat.’

That made no sense whatsoever, but I didn’t get the chance to ask any further questions, because Dan glanced down at his wrist. ‘Shit, is that the time? Better be going or the boss will have my head. See ya.’

And then he turned and jogged up the beach, sand flicking up from his bare feet.

‘Bye.’ I waved him off and headed back to the shack.

‘No!’ I shrieked as I stepped into the kitchen to find my furry adversary sitting on the counter, lapping up milk from the overturned carton. What the hell? Did possums even like milk?

‘Shoo, shoo,’ I screamed as I flapped my arms at the beast, all the while wondering how it managed to get the milk out of the fridge. What kind of gifted animal was I dealing with?

The possum had one final lap of stolen, spilt milk, glared at me and then made its way up into the roof in exactly the same way as it had done the day before. Fury burned inside me as I saw a fresh hole in the cardboard that I’d used to cover the previous one. I sighed. Not only had I obviously done a crap job of covering it, I also appeared to have been so tired I must have left the milk out after my final cup of tea last night.

If this wasn’t a sign that going home was the right decision, I didn’t know what was.

15

Harbouring huge resentment towards the possum because I couldn’t make a coffee to go in my travel mug, I packed my car in record time, secured the house—at least from human intruders—and began my journey back to Perth. As I drove down the main street of Ragged Point, I noticed a chalkboard sign outside Brewed Awakening advertising home-baked muffins.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafted towards me as I stepped out of my car.

‘Good morning,’ said a perky voice as I entered the cafe.

‘Hello,’ I replied as my eyes adjusted to the lack of sun.

‘Oh, it’s you. Ashling, right?’ Jedda, who was taking chairs down off the tables, recognised me before I did her. ‘Nice to see you again. Take a seat and I’ll bring you over our breakfast menu.’