‘Issie.’ At the sound of her name, the little girl charged to Janine’s side, half-hiding behind her mother’s leg. ‘Short–short for Isabel....�� ‘Hello Issie.’ I softened my tone as I addressed the little girl directly, beginning to get that now familiar feeling I was trapped in a bad dream. ‘How old are you, then?’ ‘She’s eighteen months,’ Janine answered, looking increasingly uncomfortable. ‘Listen–‘ ‘And she’s Daniel’s child, isn’t she?’ It hadn’t really been a question. Isabel was the spitting. Jon also told Bridie and me to ‘get-em off’ again as we started off on the long haul south.The first really amazing events were the Motorway Toll pay booths. Being a British vehicle its right hand drive which meant that it was whoever was in the front passenger seat had to pay the tolls. Not much of a problem when Jon was in that seat, although at least one toll collector noticed a naked female driver, the real fun was when Bridie or I were in that seat.At one stop in an Aires just south of. More

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