The sun had moved behind the shelter and the birds were already quieter. The novelty of the rainless day had long since worn off for them. She wasn’t sure how late it was and didn’t dare move her arm to look at her watch for fear of pain. Was it so late the birds were already roosting? Or did they, like Gran and other animals, know the value of napping in the afternoon?

“A ten- to twenty-minute snooze puts the zing back into your day,” she’d told Clare and her siblings when they’d asked why she typically disappeared after lunch each day. “If humans hadn’t stopped listening to their bodies millions of years ago, we would all sleep for bit during the day. Animals know it works. Watch how dogs and cats slow down during the warmest part of the day and sleep to replenish their energy. Later, when it’s cooler, they come alive again, revitalised. We should learn from them.”

It was true. When Gran reappeared in the afternoon, it was as if she’d been recharged. Her steps were quicker, her focus sharper and her purpose apparent. If the weather was good, she’d work in her garden until the shadows grew long and it was time for her dogs’ evening walk. If it was unpleasant outdoors, she’d spend the hours on one of her carpentry projects in her cramped garden shed. Even in her old age, she was one of the most active people Clare knew.

If I survive this, Gran, I will learn to listen to my body again, thought Clare. I will nap when I am tired, eat when I am hungry and go to Japan with Dad. I will be the woman you believed I would become. Help me get through this, Gran, wherever you are and I’ll make it up to everyone I’ve disappointed. I’ll talk to Dad about it, no matter how hard it might be. And Buhle and Maryanne. I’ll ask them to listen to me, even if they don’t think they’ll understand. And Mark, who I know understands.

She tasted tears on her lips, salty and dusty. She typically hated crying. She was afraid if she started, she’d never stop. Now though, it didn’t matter. She didn’t have the energy, courage or will to wipe her eyes or stop crying. There was no one around. She didn’t have to pretend to be strong. It was okay to wallow and give in to helplessness. She’d fight again when Faye returned.

A flash of wing bar and a shudder of leaves high in the canopy warned Clare that something was moving in the forest. She narrowed her eyes and tried to still her wheezing so that she could focus her senses. The sound came, choof, choof, choof. Heavy footsteps, approaching. Just two. Then they stopped.