‘Out of the sky she had come, back to the sky she had gone.1

ALLORA, MAY 1906

Tucked into her bed, Lyndon could hear Aunt Ellie complaining to her mother.

“The children are behaving abominably. Lyndon is the eldest and she must at least try to tidy up. The least she could do is put her toys away at night. My dear, I know money is hard to come by, but you really should think about advertising for a nanny.’

Lyndon wished Mummy wasn’t so busy all the time, fussing over Moya. The baby was ten months old now, trying to walk but always falling over. Mummy never seemed to have a moment to just sit down and talk. Imagine if there was another mother in the house, someone as nice and sweet smelling as her, but funny too. Who might even make shopping fun, and take her for walks in the park. Instead, she had to act grown up and be a mother to Biddy and Moya when she was not even seven herself.

Lyndon knew she looked really grumpy and ugly. Mummy would say, “Better be careful or the wind will change and you will look crabby forever.”

She pulled the blankets up toward her chin. Lyndon could hear the wind whipping up around the corner, rustling the grass out the back by the stable. She loved her mother, truly, but if only she could have a fairy godmother as well.