He let her lead him to the car. His face was scrunched with agony, and his eyes were dilated and dark. He shuffled into the driver’s seat, right hand clenched like a claw. ‘Put the keys in the ignition,’ he gasped. Miki fumbled but couldn’t find the right key. ‘The big square-topped silver one,’ he said. ‘Yes, now turn it to the right.’ She did as he said, flinching as the ute roared to life. ‘Okay, now get in. Fuck, it hurts.’

He drove bent forward, grimacing with pain, using only his left hand, the fat-looking right one folded across his chest. It was lucky he’d reversed down the trail because that meant they didn’t have to turn. The rear wheels spun in wet grass, then they were jerking through the bush.

It seemed to take forever to reach the main road. Kurt pulled up on the verge. His face was puffy now. ‘You’ll have to take over,’ he said. ‘My vision’s gone blurry.’

Miki was terrified. She’d never driven a car. ‘I don’t know what to do.’

‘Get behind the wheel,’ he ordered.

She sat in the driver’s seat but her feet couldn’t quite reach the pedals.

‘There’s a lever beside the seat,’ he said. ‘Grab it and pull yourself forward.’

She struggled with the lever, eventually dragging the seat into a better position.

‘Now, the clutch,’ he said.

When the ute finally took off, lurching along the road, Miki was afraid to switch gears, but Kurt made her do it. She was whimpering with the stress of it. Panic burned in her chest. She was scared of the ashen colour of Kurt’s bloated face, the swelling of his hand.

A car overtook from behind, blaring its horn because she was swerving all over the road. Her stress morphed into anger. She could have learned how to drive years ago on the farm; it would have been easy for them to teach her on the tractor. But Father and Kurt had restricted her to the vegie patch, the cow and the kitchen.

Without changing gears and with the engine screaming, she drove into town, barely slowing to make a wild turn into the medical centre, bouncing the car over the kerb. She had no idea where to find the brake so the ute stalled in the driveway. Kurt was beyond caring. He was groggy, his breathing harsh. She jumped out and tugged at his arm. ‘Come on, we need to get inside.’ His lips were fat and his bloodshot eyes barely open as she dragged him to the door.

The receptionist gasped as they stumbled inside. ‘Oh my God. I need a doctor here, right now!’