I yank the back door open and get a shock. Uncle Joe is in the driver’s seat glaring at me, and Mum is now in the back, arms stretched out. ‘Get in this fuckin car, Tace!’

I turn and shove Rhi in first. Total coward I know. She has to climb onto Mum’s knee to make room. Helping Aunty May into the middle, Sam gets in the back while I take the front seat. All doors close and lock, and I still can’t trust we’re safe. Maybe because we’re surrounded by silent fury.

‘What about the fires?’ Rhi asks. We haven’t thought it through. It’s too dry to just leave them burning out here.

Uncle throws a grin over his shoulder. ‘Hold on!’

He hits the accelerator and flings the steering wheel around, sending us into an epic donut that many a teenage boy would envy. It isn’t perfect, but it gets the job done – dirt spews out behind us. As we whip around at speed and take off out of there I stare back at the dying embers. The shadows that move past them send shivers all over me.

‘They’re following,’ I whisper.

No one says anything for a moment.

‘Someone tell me what the fuck is goin on, right now!’ Mum yells and we all jump sky-high.

I take one look at Rhi and we can’t help it. We both double over, laughing till our sides ache. Sam and May join us.

Uncle Joe makes it back to town in record speed. Rhi and I have most of the story out by now because we’re talking so damn fast while the Millers sit silent. Probably uncomfortable with that many Thomsons in one place. Kind of like putting cats and dogs in the same car and expecting them to communicate.

We screech into our driveway and Uncle Joe orders us all out. He doesn’t have to tell anyone, we know they’re close. I help Sam bring his aunty in as fast as possible without picking her up and carrying her. Mum runs ahead and turns on every light in the house, even putting some Sam Cooke on the stereo at a low volume. Rhi sprints around shutting up the whole house, screw the heat, while Uncle Joe kind of flaps about ‘checking things’.

All jobs done. Our strange little party meets around the kitchen table and looks at each other.

A soft scraping noise sounds at the back door and everyone flinches.

‘It’s the wind,’ Mum says.

Feeling antsy, I do what is normal and put on a pot of tea. Pulling out mugs I don’t even think about asking who wants one. If we had beer I think the adults would’ve preferred it right now. I know I would.