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Back One Winter Morning Save as PDF
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. By the same author
  4. Dedication
  5. 1
  6. 2
  7. 3
  8. 4
  9. 5
  10. 6
  11. 7
  12. 8
  13. 9
  14. 10
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. Acknowledgements
  54. Read More
  55. Two Years Later
  56. THIS IS JUST THE BEGINNING

‘Tui would disagree,’ he says, and it’s ridiculous how happy his words make me feel. My half-sister has definitely brought out a protective side of me. Tui just has a way to her that is irresistibly uncomplicated and easy to love – there is no pretence to her, no games, no real Tui lurking underneath. What she puts out into the world is who she is, and she makes no apologies for the fact. I love her because of her free spirit, and her big open heart. If only I had inherited those same traits from our mother, but in contrast to Tui, I have always kept my guard right up to my hairline. Most people have to earn my trust, and my love, but not Tui – she has both.

‘Do you think she would like a brother or a sister one day?’ I ask Kit.

‘Oh yeah, I reckon so,’ he says. ‘A playmate is what she craves the most. Bonnie is always so busy – that’s why Tui started hanging out with me all the time, and why she was allowed to have a puppy. There’s so much affection in that girl – I think she would love the whole world, given half the chance.’

‘She’s amazing,’ I say again, and this time Kit touches a hand briefly to my arm.

‘I think she would say the same about you.’

Penguin walking logo

32

Steampunk HQ is without a doubt one of the most bizarre yet brilliant places I have ever been in my life. From the enormous steam engine crashing through the ground by the entrance to the gloomy, cavernous room full of artefacts and oddities inside, the whole place is deliriously inventive and brilliantly entertaining.

‘I feel like I’ve walked on to the set of Mad Max,’ I remark to Kit, my mouth falling open as I spy an enormous metal beetle mounted against a wall. Tui runs off ahead to bash the keys of a makeshift organ, shrieking with amusement as each key plays a different creepy note or sound effect. There are ghoulish heads, a gorilla and frog made from the scraps of old cars, a fossilised wheelchair with a cracked leather seat and TV screens that have been tuned in to static fixed high on the walls. It is difficult to know whether all the flashing lights and strings of tinsel are part of the decor, or simply there for Christmas, but it is all completely bonkers in the best way.

After exploring a backyard area full of even bigger and weirder creations, Kit beckons Tui and me towards a doorway with ‘The Portal’ written in lights above it.

‘You have gotta see this,’ he says, looking more animated than I have ever seen him, and after pressing a large red button on the wall, he quickly ushers us inside.