Read Online Mothers and Daughters by Kylie Ladd - Free Book Online

thin hair, now receding. Anyone could tell at a glance that Tess was Amira’s daughter. As a single parent, that mattered somehow. She squeezed her tightly. ‘Did you enjoy yourself with Tia?’
    ‘Yep,’ said Tess. ‘We went crabbing. I got three and we cooked them, but I kept one for you. Janey!’ she exclaimed, spotting her friend. ‘And Bronte! It’s amazing to have you here. I can’t wait to show you everything.’ She pulled away from Amira and enfolded both the girls in a violent hug, at which Janey winced slightly. ‘Come on,’ Tess said, tugging Janey by the hand. ‘I want to show you my room, and the beach, and the church.’
    ‘The church?’ said Janey dubiously.
    ‘It’s all lined with pearl shell. The missionaries who first came here just picked it up off the beach. Everything glows . . . it’s like being under the sea, or inside an oyster.’
    ‘Great,’ said Janey. ‘Just what I’ve always dreamed of.’
    ‘I think it sounds beautiful,’ said Bronte, taking Tess’s other hand. ‘And I want to see your house too. Let’s go.’
    ‘Take your hats,’ called Caro, reaching into the car for them. ‘You’ll need to watch your skin this week—especially you, Bronte.’
    Janey held out her hand for the cap, then thrust it into a back pocket. ‘We’ll be inside in a moment,’ she said, turning away. Bronte hesitated, pulled hers on and ran after the other two.
    The four women watched them go.
    ‘It’s nice to see them together again,’ said Amira. ‘Tess has been so excited.’
    ‘I can tell!’ laughed Caro. ‘She’s looking great—so fit and healthy.’
    Morag gazed around. ‘It’s so quiet here. Where is everybody?’
    ‘At work,’ Amira replied. ‘There’s no unemployment—everyone has jobs with the garage or in maintenance, or the shop or in tourism. It’s so different to Broome and the Kimberley, where at least half of the Indigenous population is on benefits.’
    ‘Why?’ asked Morag simply.
    Amira shrugged. ‘Lots of things. Being dry helps, but it’s more than that. I think it’s simply that there is work here, and work that feels like it matters—keeping the place running, showing visitors some of the old crafts and traditions, taking care of the children. The people here still have a connection to the land, a sense of history.’ She corrected herself. ‘Not history. Continuity. Life going on. It’s important to them. There are songlines here that are thousands of years old.’
    That’s enough , she thought, noticing Fiona stifling a yawn. Amira felt strongly about the way the community worked, protective and impassioned, but there was no point lecturing. People either got it or they didn’t—anyway, her friends had only just arrived. She smiled at them. ‘Let me show you where you’re sleeping, and then we’ll hit the beach.’

    It wasn’t the Gold Coast, Amira was right about that. It wasn’t even The Mangrove, and that had hardly been the last word in luxury. Caro looked around the room that she and Janey had been assigned, one of four side by side in a drab concrete block marked Visitors . Threadbare curtains, worn carpet, an ancient ceiling fan slowly rotating overhead, as if unable to work up any more effort. Everything was scrupulously clean, thank God, but it was so small. She’d stayed in youth hostels with more space than this. Where the hell was she going to put all her stuff? Caro sank down on the bed to take stock. The springs squeaked, so she got up and tested the other one, which was against the opposite wall. May as well have her choice before Janey arrived from wherever she was, though neither appealed. Single beds! She hated single beds. One of the benefits to Caro of Alex’s never-ending travel—and heaven knows there weren’t many—was spreading out across their king-size mattress, making herself as comfortable as she could, compromising for no one. She hadn’t slept in a single bed since the youth hostels, well before