COVER PAGE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Petronella McGovern works in marketing and communications, and has written two non-fiction books. She grew up on a farm near Bathurst, New South Wales. This novel was inspired by her time living on the edge of Canberra, when her children’s playgroup became a source of support and friendship. Petronella now lives in Sydney, with her husband and two children, in a house backing onto the bush with wallabies in the garden.

DEDICATION

For my mum, Ingrid,

who inspired my love of books and writing

THURSDAY

1 LEXIE PARKER

1

LEXIE PARKER

I UNDID THE CLASP AND BELLA CLAMBERED OUT OF HER CAR SEAT, almost as fast as usual. The cast on her broken wrist only slowed her for a moment. She started along the footpath towards the playgroup.

‘Wait, wait.’ I pulled her back by the other arm. ‘We need to put your jacket on first.’

‘No, Mummy. No. I don’t want to.’

Children’s laughter drifted over the wooden fence. Bella wriggled against me, desperate to be inside with her friends. Her elbow jabbed into my sore cheek, shooting pain across my face.

‘Oh God, Bella, STAND STILL! We are not going in until you’re wearing a jacket.’

I pushed her good arm through the jacket sleeve. The flu had killed almost a hundred people across Australia this winter; Marty had seen kids in intensive care. I would not let Bella catch a cold. At least we were finally through the sub-zero nights; this morning it had been five degrees. But nothing like a Sydney spring. September in Canberra was still cool.

‘Too rough, Mummy,’ Bella screeched. ‘Stop!’

The high-pitched squeal reverberated through my aching head. Deep breaths … in through the nose, out through the mouth. Maybe I should have stayed home. But playgroup was my one-day-a-week lifesaver. Especially now. Closing my eyes, I pictured the tablets in my top drawer. Had Marty realised I’d stopped taking them yet?

When I opened my eyes again, Mel was standing near the gate ten metres away, shepherding her son, Sammy, into the little playground. She lifted a hand and waved to us, smiling.

‘Hi, Lexie! Hi, Bella!’

So calm, so happy. She mustn’t have heard Bella’s screams and my shouting. If only I could be more like her. Despite the stress of being a single mum, Mel never raised her voice. And she’d only just turned twenty-five. At her age, I’d been working at the museum and starting a master’s degree. No time for a boyfriend, let alone a child. But I was excited about life back then. Now, ten years later, I dragged myself through each day. Although the last few months had been better; maybe this move to Canberra would give us the fresh start that Marty and I had both been hoping for. Apart from last Tuesday, the day of the broken wrist.