“I have to be quick. Lindi hit her head. She fell out of a tree. She’s not moving.” I clattered out sentences in the wrong order, glancing over towards the town.

Elsie Weather swapped her stick from one unsteady hand to the other, reached into her pocket and brought out a hanky. She coughed into it, like she was coughing up her insides. My legs quivered, ready to run.

“Lindi Chowdhry.” She refolded her hanky. Her fingernails were thick and yellow. “An eldest, isn’t she?”

The sun spilled over Elsie’s shoulder straight into my eyes. “Yes, but – I’ve got to hurry, Mrs Weather. I’ve got to go.”

“Wait, Cruise girl.” She reached forwards and grabbed my hand. “How old is she, this Lindi?”

Her thumb bone pressed hard into my palm. I tried to pull away.

“How long till she goes to camp?”

“Mrs Weather, I don’t have time.”

She pulled me towards her. Breathed into my face. I coughed.

“How old is she? How long till she goes to camp?”

It was Lindi’s fourteenth two nights ago. Everyone was there, even Elsie. She can’t have forgotten, can she?

“She’s fourteen. She’s going on Saturday.” I pulled my hand away, right out of her grip. Her thumbnail scraped my skin. “I’m sorry, Mrs Weather, I’ve got to go. I’m sorry.”

“Storm’s coming,” she called out after me.

I ran. Away from Elsie, away from the caravans, over to the town.

The Parker brothers were coming out of Frog Alley. Robbie, Neel, Grif and Lyle, all thick beards and rolled-up sleeves.

“Help!” I called out. “Help! We need help!”

CHAPTER 3

Robbie Parker knelt down and put his ear close to Lindi’s mouth. Like she was whispering something he wanted to hear.

“She’s breathing,” said Jed. “Trig checked. Then he rolled her on to her side—”

“So she wouldn’t choke,” said Trig.

I squatted on the ground, not too close. Lindi’s dress had green stains on it from the grass and red ones from her blood. They’d be a job to get out.

“You did well,” Robbie said.

Was he talking to Trig? Jed? Me? He didn’t take his eyes off Lindi. He slid an arm under her shoulder, pushing through her hair. His brother, Neel, cupped her head in his hands. Then Robbie tucked his other arm under her legs, rocked her towards him and stood up. Lindi hung pelt-like between his arms.

They carried her back across the cemetery – slowly, steadily – the way you’d walk if you were fetching mugs of milk that’ve been filled up too high.

“What were you lot doing all the way up here anyway? Not making trouble, I hope?” Lyle Parker took a pair of glasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on. The glass bit – the bit you look through – was dark.

“No.” We stared. How could he even see?