Burnt by Karly Lane Page B

she wanted to do was cause more unnecessary paperwork over something that wasn’t going to lead anywhere.
    The one thing she knew for certain in this whole warped fiasco was that she was going to do her best to stop wasting time worrying about the stupid prank phone calls.
    She went to the cupboard to take down a coffee cup, then took the phone off the hook as she sat and sipped her coffee, needing its warmth to ward off the chill that had invaded her limbs, leaving her feeling exhausted and disturbed.

Chapter 9
    As Rebecca expected, the girls were beside themselves at the prospect of going to visit a ‘real live farm’, as Sarah put it, when she’d told them Seb had invited them out. They were up bright and early – too early for Rebecca’s peace of mind – and ready to go.
    Sarah was dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and had dug through her dress-up box to drag out a pink cowgirl hat complete with fake tiara and glitter on the rim. It had come in a show bag her grandparents had bought her a few years before and Rebecca couldn’t help smiling at the picture she made. ‘You look gorgeous.’
    â€˜I know. I’m ready. Can we go now?’ she asked with the seriousness and unashamed vanity of a child who knew she was loved and adored by all.
    Natalie, dressed a little less conspicuously than her younger sister, seemed just as anxious to get moving.
    Rebecca packed their swimmers, although it would be too cold at this time of the year to swim in the creek, its water chilled from the mountains that surrounded the farmland where Seb’s father lived. Memories of swimming in the same creek as a teenager in the middle of summer flooded though her mind and she recalled how the temperature of the water had taken her breath away – or had it been Seb and that giddy, all-encompassing passion that had taken her breath away?
    â€˜Mum!’
    She snapped out of her reminiscences, coming back to earth with a thud as Sarah eagerly hopped from one foot to the other in front of her.
    â€˜Can we go now?’
    â€˜All right! Take the bag out to the car and I’ll be right there.’
    As they drove out through town and into the open farmland, the kids quizzed her, as they tended to do since coming back, about the things she used to do as a little girl. Her grandparents had owned a small farm on the outskirts of Bowraville, and she took them out for a drive past it, since they were incredibly early and she wanted to kill some time before she landed on Seb’s doorstep.
    She pulled the car over on the side of the road when they reached her grandparents’ farm. Bittersweet memories flooded her as she pointed out the places she used to play, and told the girls stories about when she was their age and the things she used to do. With new owners, the farm had undergone some changes. Gardens had been replanted and rearranged. The owners had extended an open invitation to visit whenever she liked, but the thought of seeing all traces of her past and her grandparents’ lives erased from the house kept her from accepting. Sometimes it was best to keep your memories of the things that were important to you intact – special, irreplaceable memories, like the way the house had always smelt, a mixture of cooking and preserves and Pop’s molasses, which he ate with his breakfast every morning without fail. The stark reality that her grandparents were no longer there was still something she didn’t want to face. There were times that she missed them so much. How could it have been so long ago? Sometimes, it was hard to believe she was sitting here now with children of her own – she felt as though she were talking about a stranger. Time had changed so many things.
    â€˜Can we go to Seb’s now?’ said Sarah, finally.
    Rebecca shook off the melancholy mood the memories evoked. Turning the car around, she retraced the route and headed out to Seb’s.
    As they inched