For as far as Jenna could see there was red dust and railway track. A few low-growing saltbushes grew along the line. In the distance, the train was fading into shimmering heat.

There was nothing else.

Jenna stood motionless, trying to take in the enormity of what she’d done.

When the announcement had been made that the train would stop at Barinya Downs, Jenna had assumed it was some sort of town. She’d glanced out the window and half a dozen trucks had been pulled up at the platform. Staff from the train had been unloading goods, and wide-hatted, farming-type men and women had been tossing the unloaded goods into the backs of their trucks.

It had to be a settlement at least, she’d decided, which was infinitely preferable to two more days on the train watching Brian humiliate his little daughter.

But she hadn’t checked. She’d been so angry that she’d hurled their suitcases from the train and told Karli they were getting off. They’d stepped out onto the platform just as the train had started to move.

So where were they?

Barinya Downs.

The name meant nothing.

Worse. The trucks she’d seen a few minutes ago had now disappeared in a cloud of red dust.

There was nothing here at all.

She stared about her in horror, taking in her surroundings with sickening disbelief. What had she done? Where had she landed them? They were a day and a half’s train journey from Sydney and two days from Perth.

They were nowhere.

‘Where are we?’ Karli asked, in the scared little voice that was all she ever used within Brian’s hearing. It was the only tone Jenna had heard for the last two days.

‘We’re at Barinya Downs,’ she said, speaking loudly into the hot wind, as if naming the place with gusto would give it substance.

It didn’t. Barinya Downs seemed to consist of a concrete platform and a tin roof. That was it. There wasn’t a tree. There wasn’t a telephone. Nothing.