It belongs to another time. We must move forward to the future.

Rachael could see the lavender fields from where they sat at the kitchen table. They stretched in a purple haze over the landscape, the bright sunshine washing over them. The mauve complimented the blue-grey of the Australian bush in the far distance.

Mark ran his fingers over the bindings and whispered words, written long ago, words that wriggled through the aged leather, trembled beneath his touch. What lives and loves, hopes and dreams, deaths and despair these volumes held.

The time has passed for secrets. Today we fly for real.

Stella crossed to the sink beneath the window to fill the kettle. "Would you like lavender tea?

Shattered thoughts cut through her mind like a chain lightning that zapped her heart, knotted her stomach and riveted her feet to the earth.

Her heart lurched. Perhaps her own grief and sadness called out to Ebony. Rachael didn’t know, but something had happened. It was as if their spirits had touched. Carried through the air like a charge of static electricity, connecting and mingling.

Rachael dropped her handbag on the kitchen bench and sat on a stool. “How do you cope with everything?” “I have staff. Donna is still here. She helps in the gift shop. Pete and Courtney work on the farm. They work longer hours when the lavender is harvested. Karen and Sue - you haven’t met them - help me make lavender candles and pot pourri

Mark put his bag on the floor and looked around. Chintz wallpaper with pink roses on a light cream background covered the walls, while drapes of the same pattern fell across French doors that obviously led outside.