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some space. And some freedom.’

      ‘Maybe. But it’s a dangerous world out there, Mum.’

      ‘The world is whatever you believe it to be. I believe it to be good. And I believe people to be good. Until it’s proven otherwise.’

      Lisa sighed. Her mother was naïve, in her opinion. And out of touch. At the same time, she could see that Cory grew whenever he spent time with her. Not physically. But in maturity and experience. Her mother did allow him to do things she never would.

      ‘It’s good that you’re going out,’ her mother went on. ‘Even if it is just with a girlfriend. So you’re off to Sydney, are you? To a posh dinner in a posh restaurant. That’s great. But watch yourself.’

      Lisa blinked. ‘What do you mean?’

      ‘Sydney on a Saturday night can be a wild place. Don’t go walking around the streets by yourself.’

      ‘We’re going to a restaurant, Mum. It’s a literary-awards dinner with speeches and things. We won’t be walking around the streets.’

      ‘What are you going to wear?’

      Lisa had decided not to show her mother the dress she’d bought. She wasn’t in the mood for being criticised.

      ‘I have plenty of party dresses in my wardrobe.’

      ‘You know, you might see our favourite author there.’

      ‘And who would that be?’ Lisa said, trying to keep a straight face.

      ‘Nick Freeman, of course. His books always win awards. It says so on the inside flaps. You’ll have to tell me what he looks like. There’s never a picture on the back cover. And not much of a biography. I think he writes under an assumed name.’

      ‘He might be a woman,’ came Lisa’s oddly mischievous comment.

      ‘Oh, no,’ her mother said with a rather knowing smile. ‘The creator of Hal is no woman. My guess is he’s ex-military. He knows much too much about weapons not to have personal experience.’

      ‘Maybe he just does a lot of research,’ Lisa said, whilst thinking to herself that her mother was probably right.

      ‘No. It’s all too real. I sure hope he’s going to write some more Hal Hunter books. I’m addicted to them already. Yet strangely enough, I think I like the first one the best. The Scales of Justice. That’s where you really get to know Hal. You understand why he is the way he is after the way his parents get killed.’

      Lisa frowned, only then making the connection between Jack’s parents being tragically killed and the way Hal’s parents were killed. Not in a car accident. In a terrorist bombing.

      Was that why Jack had become a loner, like Hal? Why he didn’t want to marry and have a family of his own?

      The answers to those questions possibly lay in that first book.

      ‘You know, Mum, I think I’d like to read that one again. You haven’t lent it to any of your friends, have you?’

      ‘Nope. It’s in my bedroom, under the bed. I’ll go get it for you.’

      Her mother had just left when the back screen door was yanked open and Cory charged into the kitchen, holding an old coffee jar full of muddy water.

      The nicely washed and ironed clothes which she’d put on him that morning were also muddy. So was his face. It always pained Lisa to see her good-looking boy looking like a ruffian. But she held her tongue for once.

      ‘Hi there, Mum! Where’s Grandma?’

      ‘Right here, sweetie,’ Lisa’s mother replied as she bustled back into the kitchen, handing Lisa the book before going straight over to Cory. ‘Show me what you’ve got. Heavens! You’ve done well. We’ll put them in the pond later. Hopefully, some of them might turn into frogs. By the way, you’re staying the night,’ she continued before Lisa could tell Cory herself. ‘Your mum’s going out to some fancy dinner in Sydney tonight.’

      ‘Wow! Cool.’

      Lisa wasn’t sure if he meant it was cool she was going to Sydney, or cool that he was staying the night.

      ‘Don’t let him stay up too late,’ she said.

      Grandmother and grandson exchanged a conspiratorial glance. They were as thick as thieves, those two.

      ‘It’s Saturday night,’ her mother said. ‘Cory doesn’t have to go to school tomorrow. He can sleep in in the morning. You’re not going to be here to pick him up till lunch-time, I’ll bet. It’ll be you having the late night.’

      Lisa didn’t plan on being that late. But she didn’t want to argue the point, for fear of making a slip-up with her story.

      ‘Oh, all right,’ she agreed. ‘But not too late,’ Lisa added as she picked up Jack’s book and got to her feet. ‘Don’t go taking advantage of your grandmother, young man. And don’t eat too much ice cream. You know what it does to your stomach.’ Cory was lactose intolerant.

      Cory’s blue eyes went blank, exactly like his father’s had when she used to nag him over something.

      ‘Go give your mother a hug,’ his grandmother said, giving Cory a nudge in the ribs.

      ‘Be a good boy,’ Lisa whispered as she held him to her for a little longer than she usually did.

      His weary-sounding sigh made her feel guilty.

      ‘Love you,’ she added.

      ‘Love you too, Mum,’ Cory returned. But there wasn’t a great deal of warmth in his words.

      Suddenly, Lisa wanted to cry. And to keep holding him. Close.

      But she knew he would hate that.

      ‘See you tomorrow,’ she choked out, struggling to keep back the tears as she let him go and hurried towards the door.

      Her mother followed her out whilst Cory dashed off towards the pond with his jar of tadpoles.

      ‘You all right, love?’ her mother said.

      Lisa tossed Jack’s book onto the passenger seat as she climbed in behind the wheel. ‘Yes, of course. Why shouldn’t I be?’

      ‘You seem a little more uptight than usual.’

      ‘I’m not uptight at all,’ Lisa suddenly snapped before banging the door shut and glaring at her mother through the open window. ‘Why do you always criticise me, Mum? I’ve been a good daughter, haven’t I? And I’m a good mother to Cory. I support myself and always try to do the right thing. So get off my back, will you?’

      Regret at her sharp words consumed Lisa when her mother reeled back on her heels, shock in her eyes.

      ‘I…I didn’t realise,’ her mother said, obviously shaken by Lisa having a go at her. ‘I only ever want the best for you, love. But I can see I might have been a bit critical on occasions. Sorry. I’ll try to keep my big mouth shut in future.’

      Lisa was torn between feeling vindicated at having stood up for herself, and guilty over hurting her mother’s feelings.

      ‘I’m sorry, too, Mum,’ she said. ‘I know I’m touchy. I…I haven’t been sleeping very well lately.’

      ‘Then it will do you good to get out,’ her mother said, all smiles again. Nothing ever got Jill Chapman down for long. ‘Who knows? You might meet a man.’

      ‘Mum…’Lisa warned.

      ‘What’s wrong with a mother wanting her beautiful daughter to meet a man?’

      ‘You know I don’t want to get married again.’

      ‘So? I don’t, either. But that’s never stopped me having a boyfriend.’

      ‘Or

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