Danny hadn’t given proper directions in his scrawled response to her letter, just “ask for Danny’s place at the Kullanurra pub” and the woman there had said, “it’s about eight or nine kilometres from the Majura Road turn-off. On the left.” She glanced at the odometer. Seven point eight. Nearly there. A neat white signboard on a gate announced Fairview. More prosaic name than she’d expected but it looked perfect. The narrow driveway led to a well-shaded house with wide verandas, rainwater tanks, sheds, a barn and further on what looked like fruit trees and a large green patch of vegetable garden. Solar panels glinted on the roof and a wind turbine revolved briskly in the hot breeze. Surprisingly impressive. The place had an inviting air of refuge and peace. Just what her battered heart and severely bruised ego needed. Big brother Danny had always been the spiritual one in their shambles of a family. The one who wanted life to be simple, based on need rather than want, in search of happiness while she was intent on perfection, her career.
