Angela stretched and pulled back a corner to look out. The storm had passed in the night and pink rays from the sun now tinged the cloudy sky. She eased herself from the bunk – careful not to wake Claudia – pulled on some clothes and climbed out of the truck. The crisp air made her shiver. She drew in a deep breath, wrinkling her nose at the strong smell of sheep. Another truck had pulled in alongside her during the night. Angela sighed when she saw the telltale colours and the name ‘Berl Stock Transport’. The truck’s motor was running but there was no one in sight. The only other sign of life was the occasional bleating from the trailers. Angela moved a little closer. She wondered which of Berl’s drivers was in charge of this rig. A man appeared, striding towards her between the two trucks. She took a quick step back but there was no avoiding him. ‘Well, well, you must be Ms Angel, although the name doesn’t really fit you, does it? Should be Ms Spitfire.’ He came to a stop in front of her.
