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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

The house was almost empty. Nothing in the lounge room except a pile of rubbish in the fireplace. Skewed venetian blinds at the windows. Mantelpiece thick with dust and possum shit. In the bedroom: a squeaky bed. He sat on the bed frame, and springs poked his bum. Underneath, on the floor, he found a rusty chamber pot. The old lady who’d lived here must have been incontinent. Suddenly the bed looked even less appealing.

He continued his tour of the house. In the kitchen, two vinyl chairs spewed stuffing from their seams, and possum shit was everywhere. He screwed up his nose. What had happened to recently vacated and partly furnished? This wasn’t what he’d signed up for. He considered calling the agency and blasting them. Then he sighed. He wanted to be a new person here, the sort of man who didn’t snap to anger, different from his dad. There were ways to sort things. He had a couple of days to clean up before starting work. Tomorrow he would use some savings and buy a new mattress, maybe find cheap furniture at garage sales. But it was a shame the place was such a mess. The irony of it almost made him smile. Three years of dealing with the emotional mess at home, and now this. The grime was daunting, but it would be easier than looking out for his mum whenever his dad was tanked.

Outside, he lifted his kayak from the car and stashed it alongside the house. Then he lugged in his gear and dumped it on the floor. Where to begin? He would start with the fireplace, because any bet the house wouldn’t be insulated and he would freeze tonight if he couldn’t light a fire … assuming there was wood.

When he searched out the back there was none.

In a cupboard he discovered an old radiator, so he plugged it in. The stench of burning dust permeated the lounge room, then the power snapped off; the radiator had shorted everything out. He checked the fuse box and switched the power back on, but there would be no heating until he organised a delivery of wood. He found a number on a fridge magnet and arranged for a load to be dropped off that afternoon.