kce

CHAPTER
1
‘Come in,’
I said as
I pushed the front flyscreen door open for my
visitor. ‘I thought you were one of my kids at the door.’
The woman on the
porch lifted her sunglasses from her head and
smiled. ‘You must be Kelly Cahill.’
‘And you must be Wendy Ryder,’ I replied, trying to feel enthusiastic
about my part in the ritual introduction.
I was smiling, but I was not
amused. I wasn’t looking forward to this interview. I didn’t know this
American woman. I didn’t know
what I might expect from her and,
emotionally, I was feeling
vulnerable and exposed.
Do your duty, I reminded myself. It’s only for three days, four at the most,
then she’ll be gone
and you can get back to the business of living.
‘Nice place
you have here, Kelly,’ shee said, adhering to the standard
form. She was tall, her hair was brown and
shoulder length, and she was
wearing jeans and a sweater.
She had a slightly Mediterra
anean look
about her, and there couldn’t
have been a greater physical contrast between us. I was half a head shorter
than she, easily
ten years younger, blonde, with blue eyes, and pale
by
comparison. I looked at her brown
eyes and
they seemed friendly. Mine, I
knew, were probably sharp with distrust.
‘Make yourself at home.’ I showed her to the lounge
room, then
duckedd out to the kitchen
and left her standing at the front window. She
could occupy herself for a moment
while I fixed coffee.
‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ she called
out.
The weather was good that day, and I knew she
would be staring
out
at the hills, which were dotted with
sheep and lush green from
recent rain.