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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

Suddenly, miraculously, he was clear. He tore down the field, bouncing the ball every few strides. The players were after him, but they couldn’t get traction in the mud. Leon was in command of the ball. He sized up the goal, found his balance and swung his boot through. At the critical point of contact between boot and ball, his support foot slipped a fraction, but there was margin for error. The ball sailed through the air on trajectory for a goal.

Then it wobbled in a gust of wind and clipped the goal post, dropping through for a point.

Leon was crushed and so was his team. They were going for him, he realised. He’d almost made it.

‘That was fucking bad luck,’ Toby said. ‘We could have used a goal.’ He hoicked and spat on the ground, then grinned. ‘I suppose that’s what you’d expect from a Parkie.’

11

11

On the designated devil-trapping night, just before seven, Miki fetched her hidden key and unlocked the back door with shaking hands. She was wired with excitement. As she closed the door behind her and stepped into the blue light of evening her skin tingled with the sweet joy of freedom.

It seemed she’d been waiting for this day forever: a window of light in her ordinary week. She hadn’t known until late whether she would escape or not. This morning she and Kurt had gone to the forest as usual, but when they came home Kurt had retreated to the storeroom under the shop and spent hours down there while Miki busied herself in the kitchen, lining up mugs in the cupboard, organising tins in the pantry, listening to him bang around and hoping he’d leave. All day, she had worried he might not go and her plans would be ruined. Maybe he knew about the key and was going to confront her. But nothing was said.

It was a relief when he’d finally locked her in the house and headed to Hobart. She had been sitting in the kitchen ever since, waiting in her overalls with a fast-beating heart.

Now, in the lane, she slid the key in her pocket and inhaled deeply. It was cold and dark, the air thick with wood smoke. Up towards the mountains, silver stars blinked in the indigo sky. She glided along the laneway, where a crouching cat inspected her with green eyes and clawed its way over the fence. The main street was quiet—nobody about; everyone must be home eating dinner and watching TV.