Peter and Maria hurried back to their room. Her heart was thudding with panic, her brain a muddle of thoughts. They settled the children to sleep, then huddled by the fire, ashenfaced.

“She is not a vindictive woman,” Maria said. “She has known for some time without saying anything, so I doubt they will run to the authorities now. But all the same, it is not good . . .”

Peter was rubbing his chin between his fingers. “There is bound to be a reward for our capture. It will be hard for them to resist in these straitened times. Maybe they will not report us tonight, but as the winter continues and food remains scarce, they will weaken.”

“I shouldn’t have forced you to keep the fish for us. You didn’t want to.” She should have listened to him; he was a better person than her.

“There’s no point regretting what’s done,” he said, staring into the fire. “It’s what we do next that counts.” He came to a decision. “We have to leave tonight.”

“No!” She was terrified. “We can’t! How would we survive?”

“I will take Joe’s horse and wagon. We can leave one of your jewels in payment. They will be furious, but by morning I hope we will be many miles away.” He stood up. “It’s the only way, Maria. You pack our things and I’ll harness the horse. We must leave within the hour.”

“But where will we go?” she asked, feeling dread deep within her bones.

He shrugged and shook his head. “As yet, I have no idea.”

Chapter 19

Sydney, March 1974

NICOLE WAS THRILLED BY THE TINY FIRST-FLOOR apartment in Balmain, and delighted that she and Val would be sharing a bed. She unpacked her storybooks and colored pencils and put them in the little cabinet on her side of the bed, arranged her dolls along the pillow, then helped Val to put the few pots, pans, and plates she had brought into the kitchen cupboards. When they had finished, they went for a walk down the road in the direction of the bay, which glinted blue between the houses. Three girls, slightly older than Nicole, were skipping on the other side of the road, one jumping while two turned the rope, chanting: “Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the woods is he . . .” They turned to watch Nicole passing and she gave a quick smile and a little hop, clearly hoping that one day soon she might be invited to join their game.