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Back The Orchardist's Daughter Save as PDF
Chapters (57)
  1. COVER PAGE
  2. PRAISE
  3. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  4. DEDICATION
  5. PROLOGUE
  6. PART I SEEDS
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. PART II GERMINATION
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. PART III GROWTH
  29. 21
  30. 22
  31. 23
  32. 24
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. PART IV UNDERSTOREY
  42. 33
  43. 34
  44. 35
  45. 36
  46. 37
  47. 38
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. EPILOGUE
  57. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

There was no way back in. The house was alive with fire. She stood powerless, watching it burn. Flames in the lounge room, in their parents’ room, behind the windows. Somewhere, the tinkling of glass. Clumps of ceiling were dropping like stones. Her brother was taking too long.

When it seemed the whole house had been converted to hell and that everyone must be dead, he lurched from a window. Flames danced on his back, and he tumbled to the ground, rolling frantically, then ripped off his woollen jumper and flung it away.

In the leaping light of the blaze, he staggered across to her, soot-blackened and gasping, eyebrows singed.

He was clutching something to his chest: Father’s black leather folder.

When she looked in his eyes, she knew her parents were gone.

PART I SEEDS

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PART I

Seeds

1

1

Leon drove into town on a clear autumn Saturday. Blue skies, leaves turning golden, a hint of smoke in the air. He felt optimistic. New home, new job, new life—he was going to make this work. For too many years he’d been living on Bruny Island with his folks. He’d had his reasons for being there, but it was time to move on. This was a fresh start, and no matter what his dad said, Leon was up for it. Being a Parks ranger in a timber town would bring challenges, but there were ways to fit in—you just had to find them.

He would miss the island, there was no doubt. He loved its wild beaches, columnar cliffs and shifting winds. The sea frothing against the shore. The still waters of the channel with its hook-necked, red-beaked black swans. Dragging his kayak across mudflats alive with waterbirds and scuttling crabs. But he’d left all that behind and now he was here. At least he was still in southern Tasmania, and working among forests and trees, which were in his blood.

Pretty much everything he owned was in his old red car. Kayak on the roof-rack. Box of books in the back. A few folding chairs. Suitcase stuffed with worn clothes. Hiking boots. The down sleeping-bag he’d bought when he was studying in Hobart. Oh, the trips he’d planned: big multi-day hikes in southern Tasmania that never eventuated because he’d had to move home. It had been a necessity—his mum had needed him. He would never forgive his dad for wrecking his life and ruining hers.

But today none of that mattered. Twenty-five wasn’t too late for a new beginning, and he was excited. This was the first opportunity he’d had in forever.