COVER PAGE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Eleanor Limprecht spent her childhood in the US, Germany and Pakistan but now lives in Sydney, Australia. Eleanor’s previous novels, What Was Left and Long Bay were both published by Sleepers Publishing to critical acclaim.

BY THE SAME AUTHOR

What Was Left

Long Bay

DEDICATION

In memory of Charlie

Up ahead they’s a thousan’ lives we might live, but when it comes it’ll on’y be one.

JOHN STEINBECK, THE GRAPES OF WRATH

CHAPTER 1

CHAPTER 1

I watch her at the railing, looking out to sea. Skin so soft it slopes from her cheeks, fine white hair billowing around her face. I like to imagine her—the same age I am now—making the opposite journey, with no idea of what is on the other side. I’ve seen old photographs, curling at the edges, of her lounging in a chair on an upper deck, shading her eyes from the sun with a hand. Shorts and a halter top, hair wild from the wind, mouth open in laughter. I hold her coffee now and wait for her to turn, studying the rough, wrinkled skin on the backs of her elbows, the veins which bulge behind her knees.

Grandma turns and her bright blue eyes blink away the water from the wind.

‘Hannah.’ She smiles and steps towards me, taking my arm. ‘You’ve brought coffee. Aren’t you a doll.’

We walk the deck in the early sunshine, the yellow hulls of the lifeboats above us. The only sign the ship is moving is the vibration of the deck. Hardly anyone gets seasick now, Grandma says, because they put stabilisers on all the cruise ships.

‘Good for you,’ Mom said when I told her I wanted to travel back to Australia with Grandma. ‘She’ll need your help—she’s not exactly spry these days.’

‘I know. That’s why she asked me. And I need to get away. Come with us?’

Mom had sighed, a rush of air in the phone, and I could hear the turn signal in her car ticking, the low murmur of the radio news.

‘Can’t afford to take that much time off. But this is something she’s talked about forever. Since before Grandpa died. I’m glad one of us can go. You need to be strong, though, to help her. Up stairs, in and out of cars once you’re there. Are you being healthy?’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘You forget I’m a nurse—at least, training to be one.’

‘Like I’d forget.’

Now the deck has grown busy with passengers making their way to breakfast.

‘Are you hungry?’ I ask.

‘I will be when I see the food.’ Grandma threads her arm through mine and we turn around to walk to the dining room. ‘Let’s go see what’s on offer.’