The City ‘Rosie! Come on, love. They’ve gone now. It’s time to get down.’ Gran stood beside the tree trunk, not daring to take her eyes off me. Mr Young had gone. The chainsaws had gone. Only Gran was left. She begged and pleaded and even tried shouting a few times. But I still wouldn’t come down. And then Uncle Malcolm arrived. He paced up and down beside Gran, muttering loudly and shaking his head. Glimpses of his green and yellow shorts flashed as he walked. Gran must have called him in the middle of his golf game. Such bright stripy shorts would normally have looked funny, but nothing was very funny today. ‘Rosie, I promise you. Uncle Malcolm will make the developers stop. We’ll get this whole koala thing sorted out. There’s no need for you to guard that tree anymore. Now come on, love. Down you get.’ I didn’t move. Adults always say stuff they don’t mean when they want you to do something. How did I know the men with the chainsaws had stopped for good?
