Free The Road Back by Di Morrissey Page A

‘Your money,’ he said.
    â€˜Bunny said that she keeps things that mean something to her, so I’m getting these to remind me of this day,’ Megan explained.
    Chris looked at his mother, but didn’t say a word.
    â€˜Do we have to race back home, Chris?’ his mother asked. ‘If we have time, we should take Megan to see the waterfall. We’ve had quite a bit of rain lately, so it should have plenty of water going over it.’
    As the waterfall was only a few minutes’ drive away, Chris agreed that it was worth taking a detour. They parked the car in the small car park and walked to the edge of the well-fenced observation platform. They could see the waterfall and the river flowing far below. There was certainly a lot of water coming over the falls, which plunged about thirty metres into a large pool beneath.
    â€˜Dad, this is gorgeous,’ said Megan. ‘I just love it.’
    â€˜It certainly is lovely. It’s not one of the world’s great waterfalls, not like Niagara, but you’re right, it’s very pretty.’
    â€˜There’s a path right down to the base of the falls,’ said Susan. ‘You can walk down and swim in the pool, but the water is very cold.’
    â€˜Dad, can we do that?’
    â€˜No time today, but maybe after Christmas.’
    â€˜I’d like to come back here,’ said Megan. She smiled at Chris. As they climbed back in the car, Chris felt relaxed and happy. Showing Megan around Neverend was proving to be just the bonding experience he had hoped for.
    *
    On Christmas morning the house was filled with people, as neighbours and friends dropped in to share good wishes and exchange small gifts.
    On Christmas Eve, Susan had shown Megan how to flake the smoked trout they had bought up on the plateau and make a dip from it by putting it into the food processor with herbs, crème fraîche, shallots, parsley and lime juice. Now Megan served it to the visitors with tiny toasted triangles of bread.
    â€˜Mmm,’ said one guest. ‘Bunny’s famous smoked trout dip.’
    â€˜Megan made it this year,’ replied Susan.
    â€˜Well, all I can say is that she’s done a great job.’
    Megan beamed with pleasure.
    Later, as those who were staying for lunch congregated on the front verandah while Susan’s organic turkey finished cooking, there was the roar of a motorbike rumbling up the driveway.
    A figure in leathers dismounted, took off a black helmet and, pulling out a large red handkerchief, mopped a perspiring face.
    Chris put down his drink and exclaimed, ‘Well, Carla! What a fabulous surprise! I haven’t seen you for ages.’ He walked over to embrace the large, smiling woman before calling to Megan. ‘Carla, you haven’t met my daughter. This is Megan.’
    Carla held out her hand and Megan shook it. ‘I feel I know you already. Bunny talks about you such a lot. Lovely to meet you at last.’
    â€˜Pleased to meet you,’ said Megan. ‘Wow, that’s some bike. Do you live around here?’
    â€˜I rode into town a few years ago and liked the place, so I often come for a visit,’ said Carla. ‘I met Bunny, who offered to let me stay here for a while. She’s a great woman, your grandmother.’
    â€˜I know,’ said Megan, smiling. ‘Would you like a glass of water?’
    â€˜I would, thank you, dear, but then I’ll ask your father for a beer. I’ll go inside and get out of some of this clobber. It’s too damned hot to socialise in it.’ She picked up her small backpack and headed indoors.
    Chris’s old friend Duncan, who’d popped in to see the Baxters before going to his family celebrations, looked at Carla heading indoors and then at the bike.
    â€˜Your mother is very hospitable and certainly has a varied group of friends,’ said Duncan. ‘Well, I’d better be off. Going to the out-laws for dinner