You know I used to love summer, don’t you? It used to be my favourite season. When I was younger, before I met you, I used to catch the bus to go swimming at Bondi every Saturday and Sunday throughout the summer. Now I can’t even put my head under the water unless I want an ear infection.

But this year, as soon as we got that first sweltering hot day, right back in September — don’t try and tell Australia it’s still only spring, it doesn’t care — I felt . . . weakened. And I’ve only felt weaker and weaker ever since. Not that you’d know to look at me. I’m good at projecting the image I choose. I’ve been doing it for a long time. But today, well let’s just say I was glad that I was alone when I smelled that wisp of smoke on the air. Because there was no way I was hiding my initial reaction. Do you know I almost vomited? The smell might have been mild, but I could still feel the burn in my throat.

Is it going to be like this every summer from now on? Every time I smell smoke? Every time I hear about a bushfire?

Love,

Jill

*

The smoke was already making her feel uneasy so it was probably no wonder she jumped when the doorbell rang.

She opened the door and widened her eyes when she saw Callie standing there, tears streaming down her face.

‘Callie! What’s wrong? What’s happened?’

She hung her head. ‘Nothing,’ she said. ‘Nothing’s happened.’

‘Well, but then . . .’ Jill realised it was stupid to stand there in the doorway, questioning the poor girl. ‘Come on, come inside.’

She ushered her into the lounge room and they sat side by side on the couch.

‘Nothing’s happened?’ Jill clarified.

Callie shook her head.

Jill put an arm around her granddaughter. ‘What’s going on, then? Why are you crying?’ She paused. ‘How did you get here? Do Mum and Dad know you’re here?’

‘I caught the bus straight from school. I texted Dad and told him.’

‘Okay, good. Now talk to me, tell me what’s wrong.’

Callie scratched hard at a spot on the inside of her arm. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I’m keeping my mouth shut.’ And there was a fresh wave of tears.

Jill looked back at her, horrified. ‘What on earth do you mean? Keeping your mouth shut about what?’

‘I . . . I didn’t mean anything. It was nothing.’

‘No, it was something. Talk to me.’

‘Grandma, please.’ She continued to sob and Jill thought it best to stop pressing.

‘Can I get you something?’ Jill tried eventually. ‘A cup of tea?’ It felt like a ridiculous suggestion, but she didn’t know what else to offer.

‘Okay,’ said Callie.