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“Truth in fiction?” I echoed, topping up my coffee That sounded like a fairly epic procrastination exercise I wondered what Nathaniel was supposed to be writing that required such distraction; he never liked to talk ress until they were shiny and published and winning awards

“Are all stories just reflections of ourselves? Are even the fictions rite based on the truths of our own lives?” I tried and failed to come up with a satisfactory response to what I hoped was a rhetorical question “Take your work at the paper,” Nathaniel went on, apparently not noticing that I hadn’t responded “How much do your own life and your life experiences colour the reports you write?”

Since most of what I wrote for the Perth Herald was based entirely on press releases, andthem all in on time, probably not a lot But, on the other hand, I didn’t want Nathaniel thinking that I wasn’t properly investing in my artistic side, so I said, “Probably htful voice

“Exactly my point! So, the conclusion I’ve reached is that it is only through knowing ourselves, understanding our true selves, that we can hope to create anything ful in fiction”

“That’s…interesting” Did I have anyinvited to a family party definitely deserved self-pity toast

“So, you agree, then?”

“Absolutely” Maybe even chocolate spread

“Perfect! We can discuss itParty”

I froze, halfway through putting more bread in the toaster “I can’t come, Nathaniel Not if I’m not wanted there”

“I want you there,” he said “And I’m sure the others do too, even if they don’t know it yet And you wouldn’t let an old man doould you? Leave hi white tails and a bow tie? I’ll probably even have to make a speech…”

“I’m fairly sure you can cope with a party with your friends withoutspeeches You’ll survive”

“Oh, I don’t know You haven’t heard what I’ve got to say in this one, yet Really, Kia You don’t want to miss it Trust me”

There was soic, so I’d ed atto lead me home

I wanted to be there I wanted to go ho

And so I said, “Okay I’ll co that it was a terrible idea Sometimes you have to let your heart win

Nathaniel whooped “Fantastic! Send ust 24th See you there!”

And with that, he hung up, leaving arden party thrown by Isabelle, not to mention the rest of the weekend

After all, Roseas another world, a throwback to a tiht the house We always dressed for dinner at Rosewood, and had pre-dinner drinks on the terrace if the sun shone Rosewood didn’t have Wi-Fi, or video games, and Isabelle had even hidden the telly in the middle room, down the darkest downstairs corridor Rosewood had stories, and ne…and

Maybe, if I could find the right costuht clothes to blend in, no one would think to ask what I was doing there in the first place

Chapter One

“We’ll take it,” I said,house

“You can’t just buy it! We haven’t even stepped inside yet”

I pulled her close against my side “I don’t need to This is it This is home”

Biding Time, by Nathaniel Drury (1967)

Two long years away, and the first person I saw upon host Even if I didn’t quite realise it at the time

I’ll ad home so soon, not until Nathaniel called and insisted, and the teo back eventually, for a visit, at least But two years away didn’t seeh Two Christmases, two birthdays, two anniversaries; Ellie couldn’t possibly have forgiven me so soon

This was ain the Rose Garden instead of going

inside

The walled Rose Garden is one of my favourite spots at Rosewood, especially atwith flowers As children, Ellie and I would ent floater we’d sell to charitable passers-by at the end of the driveway This year, however, it seeot there first

Al only stalks, leaves and thorns As I blinked at the eht for a irl, younger thandark hair and pale features The su her up frorandfather’sbetween one second and the next Because when I openedoutside the house that was supposed to beif I’d be welcomed or dismissed

Wasn’t that Rosewood all over? A place out of time, more fiction than real it seemed someties of one of his books, complete with secrets and mysteries – even the paranormal

Before I could fully process what I’d seen, randmother’s voice echoed out from the terrace, imperious and impatient, just as I remembered Isabelle Drury was the ot it, not for a do subjects

“We’ll need o and tell her”

There was no response, and I found hts of the strange girl forgotten I wanted to hear another fa surass, rather than over a too-clear phone line I wanted to feel like I was really hoain

I hadn’t intended to come back to Rosewood so soon But now that I was here, I couldn’t i