Even here, inside the railway station, the salty scent of the sea wafted in on the warm breeze. “All you doom and gloom naysayers are missing out on this,” she crowed to herself. “Tell me I’m mad now, Aunty Joyce.” Who cared if she’d chucked in a perfectly good job? It was totally worth it already. The sun etched sharp lines of light and shadow on the city streets, and even at six p.m. on an Australian summer evening, the heat felt solid, like walking into a wall. Twenty-four—or was it thirty-six—hours ago? The fatigue clogging her brain left her way too tired to compute the changes in time zones—she’d been wrapped in a heavy woolen coat, shivering her way to Heathrow. Now a thin film of sweat stuck her shirt to her skin. The slight discomfort didn’t matter. Kitty was gloriously, delightfully warm. Even the effort of dragging her case along behind her as she set off to find her new apartment didn’t dim her spirits. An avenue of exotic, red-flowered trees, their branches linked overhead, created a cool, shaded tunnel.
