They took another turn and already she was lost. They came to a place with many houses and buildings close together lining the street, cars parked nose-out on an angle, people, signs, rubbish bins, footpaths, children on bicycles. ‘What is this place?’ Miki asked. ‘Town,’ Mother said. This was where Miki’s parents came shopping; she had always wondered what it looked like. She wished she could see inside all the shop windows. She knew her parents bought flour and sugar, broomsticks, soap, clothes, wool for knitting jumpers. But there must be other things too. She leaned forward, trying to see out, but Mother snapped at her to sit back and be still. Miki knew she should focus on her guilt and the chopped-off fingers and ask God for forgiveness, but it was hard. There were so many new things, and everything was rushing past: a school, a park, children playing on swings, a lady walking a dog. Her heart was beating quickly because she had to remember it all. She had to seal it in her hungry mind. The world was bigger than she’d ever imagined, full of fields and farms, fences, cars, people, buildings. She used to think everything was made up of apple trees and forest because that was all she could see from the top of the tallest apple tree on the highest hill on the farm.

They passed out of town and drove over hills, and the road widened. All was quiet in the car. Mother was still as stone, and Father was silent in the front seat with the blood-red towel wrapped over his hand. Kurt was concentrating on driving, and Miki stared through the window, taking it all in. Soon there were cars going in both directions. Big noisy trucks. Tourist buses heading up to the hills. They passed an enormous wooden apple shed. Poplar trees with brown leaves lining the road. Purple mountains in the distance. Green signs with white writing.

It was a long drive, nearly an hour, and Miki was exhausted from looking and seeing and storing things in her memory. Her brain was like a pot of hot water boiling over, hissing and fizzing on the stove.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take any more, they drove around the shady side of a dark mountain, and craziness exploded all around: rushing cars close and noisy, crisscrossing roads, crowds of houses, tall buildings, red-and-green-eyed lights, people on paths, women in smart suits and high-heeled boots, men in black coats. Rain started to tumble and umbrellas appeared like mushrooms popping skywards.

The shadow of the mountain reared above everything, clouds low on its stern black brow.