“Okay, well, I don’t care, I guess.” Bree remembered the rip in the back of her shirt. She’d hooked it on barbed wire as she’d climbed through a fence. “I don’t suppose you run to sewing as well, do you? I’ve got a hole in my—”

“No!”

Bree felt mean then. She couldn’t sew and she didn’t enjoy cooking. Laura had made life easier while their mum was away. Bree wasn’t sure she’d let her know that. “I do appreciate you cooking for us.”

“I’ve invited someone for dinner.” Laura glanced towards the door.

“Who did you invite?”

“Paul Brown.”

“Mum’s principal!”

“He’s a really nice guy.” Laura sipped her beer. “I like him.”

“When have you even seen him?”

“I met him a couple of weeks ago. We’ve caught up several times since.”

Bree grinned, tapped the neck of her beer bottle against Laura’s. “Go for it. You might as well be getting some action; Kate and I sure as hell aren’t.”

Laura’s face went pink. “Paul’s not…we’re taking things slowly.”

Bree lifted a hand in the air. “Okay, don’t be so touchy.”

“I’m not but I’m wondering, if Kate’s not well, do you think I should cancel?”

The kitchen door opened and Kate stepped through, a rug draped around her hunched shoulders. Bree was pleased to see she’d brushed her hair and pulled it back into a ponytail and she’d put some colour on her lips.

“What are you cancelling?” Kate fought with the door to make it stay shut then crossed to the fire and held her hands to the heat.

“I thought if you’re not feeling up to it I should tell Paul not to come.”

“I’ll be fine.” Kate pulled her face into a smile but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’d like to meet him and you’ve gone to all this trouble for him.” She winked at Bree. “He’s a vegetarian.”

“Oh. I see.” She looked back at Laura. “So the vegetable hotpot is for Paul, not for Kate.”

“We’ll both enjoy it,” Kate said. “Shall I set the table?”

“I’ll do it,” Bree said. “For four?”

“I guess it’s a bit late to call it off now,” Laura said.

By the time Bree had set the table, Kate had drawn a chair up closer to the fire and was sitting staring at it. Usually she said it was too hot and stuffy in the kitchen. Bree went to her, put a hand on her shoulder. “You all right?”

Kate pulled a smile. “The sleep helped but now I feel cold. I’ve got a bit of a scratchy throat.”

“Maybe you’re coming down with something.” Laura drew a chair up beside Kate’s. “It’s impossible to keep this place warm. Mum and Dad should install ducted heating.”