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flash of running man. Again her twin beams sprayed their light, but whoever she’d seen had gone, or gone to ground. She slid across the seat and was out running across the paddock towards the road. She knew this land better than any prowler, and if he was heading back to town, she’d cut him off.
    No movement on the road. No sound of movement. She stood amid the trees, waiting for him to creep out from behind one. He’d been heading towards the goat paddock, towards Elsie’s house. He could have gone east towards the bush, or cut back south towards Flanagan’s land. Or gone to ground beneath Elsie’s house. There was three feet of space beneath it and plenty of stored junk to hide behind.
    She walked down Elsie’s gravelled drive where she felt for the rake, always leaning against the fence. Armed then, she circled the house, expecting movement from every shadow. No movement, except for Teddy, standing in the dark of the back steps.
    ‘What are you up to?’ he asked.
    ‘I saw someone running this way. Have you got a torch handy? He’s probably under your house.’
    Teddy brought two torches. They checked beneath the house, checked the road again, checked the trees on the far side of the road and Granny’s shed – then Teddy turned off her ute’s headlights. He had a better relationship with motors than with people.
    She stood in the yard when he left, watching him disappear into the dark. That was when her mind started asking questions. How long had he been standing on the back steps? If he’d been standing there when she’d driven in, he would have seen the prowler as he ran towards him. She squinted, attempting to visualise the running man. Light shirt and movement, that was all she’d seen.
    Teddy’s shirt was grey. Had he been taking a short cut home?
    Then why hadn’t he said so?
    Because he’d been up to something he shouldn’t have been up to. Drinking or raiding Joe Flanagan’s orchard, no doubt.
    *
    Myrtle told Cara she could invite two friends to their New Year’s Eve party. She invited five: Rosie, Henry Cooper, who everyone called Coop, Ding-dong Bell and his girl, and Dino Collins. Myrtle invited three neighbours and their families. Robert invited two teachers and their kids. With Aunty Beth, Uncle John, the cousins and in-law cousins, the house was packed solid, as was the veranda.
    It was almost midnight before Robert noticed her talking to Dino Collins. When he did, he took her arm and led her inside, into his bedroom, where he closed the door.
    ‘I don’t want you to have any more to do with that Collins boy, poppet.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘You’ll need to trust me on this,’ he said.
    ‘What’s he done?’
    ‘He’s not fit company for a fourteen-year-old girl,’ Robert said.
    She knew Dino had been expelled from school, way back near the start of the year. All the kids knew. No one knew why, or if they did, they wouldn’t say.
    ‘Your Uncle John is asking the boys to leave. Remain in here until they’ve gone.’
    ‘Rosie will go with them!’
    ‘The Hunter girls are here, and more fit companions.’
    Mrs Hunter taught history at the high school and her daughters were bigger pains in the bum than their mother.
    ‘If I had a bed, I’d go to it,’ Cara snapped.
    ‘Hop into ours,’ he said.
    The tents were pulled down the following morning, the cars and trailer loaded, then at nine they all left in convoy for the return trip to Sydney. Gran got the last word. She always got the last word.
    ‘You get your family back home where you belong, my boy.’
    Cara stood with her parents waving them out of sight around the corner, and as the caravan disappeared from view, her heartbeat quickened. Now she’d tell them that they were a pair of liars.
    Now. Tell them what Gran had said.
    Except Robert put his arm around her and kissed her nose. ‘Always nice to see visitors arrive, poppet, but maybe nicer to see them go, eh.’
    That was honest. They went inside and the house looked,