She hardly reached the height of the doorbell, but she was a determined little thing. Her curly golden hair was uncombed and needed a wash, but so did her face, with two tear streaks from her blue eyes to her trembling chin. The door opened, and a kindly face looked down at her. "Oh, my darling girl, what're you doing here? Where's Mum?"

The little girl turned and pointed towards a car parked in the driveway with one door open, from which protruded a pair of tightly leather-clad buttocks, slim legs, and gold sandals. The rest of her was trying to retrieve something from the back seat.

"Mum's just getting my things. Can I stay with you, Auntie Marg? Mum said she has to go away for a while, and I would be a nuisance."

"Of course, you can, darling. Go inside now and see if Uncle Ken can find you some ice cream. Would you like that?"

Her little face lit up with a smile, and dragging her worn and torn teddy bear by one paw, she disappeared into the cool house in search of Uncle Ken and the promised ice cream. Margaret closed the front door and went across to where her sister was now wholly visible standing beside the car. "Okay, Tiffany, what's the story this time?"

"Well, Scottie and I have heard of some work down the coast, and we can't take Meredith with us. She would just be in the way. Can you look after her for a couple of weeks? Will let you know how long we'll be away once we line up the work."

Margaret shook her head in disgust. "Why can't you get any work in Sydney? It's not as though you're fussy about what you do, is it?"

"Don't be such a bitch," her sister replied. "It's all right for you with Mr Suburbia inside supporting you. I have to work for a living, and I don't have many choices. Are you going to look after Meredith or not?"

Margaret reached down for the small suitcase that Tiffany had thrown on the driveway in temper. "Of course, we'll look after her, for her sake, Tiffany, not for yours. Go and say goodbye to your daughter and be on your way. Just let me know when we might expect you back to play at being mother again." Margaret followed her sister back into the house, and within a few minutes, Tiffany was disappearing down the road in a cloud of exhaust smoke.

Meredith was looking a bit cleaner after Ken had washed her face and hands, but the ice cream smeared around her smiling mouth was a delight to see. "Where's she off to this time?" Ken asked his wife.

"Tell you later. Not important now."

Ken took Meredith into the family room and propped her and Teddy up on the lounge with a few of her favourite books. She loved to look through them, slowly turning the pages while telling Teddy what the story was about. She had an amazing memory for a 3-year-old, and there were always a few new books waiting for her each time she came to visit.

Margaret had never seen any of the places Tiffany had lived in as her sister was constantly moving houses and changing her lovers. Meredith's father was long gone, and his present whereabouts were unknown. She had seen the latest "love" on Tiffany's Facebook page and was not impressed. He looked rough and tough, and she was concerned about his appearance and his apparent influence on her sister.

In the twelve months that Scottie had been around, Ken and Margaret had been asked nearly every month if they could mind Meredith for a few days. It was not unusual for her to stay with them for weeks, but they didn't mind the extended time they had to spend with her. They loved the little girl as though she was the child they had never been able to have.

They feared for her safety as Scottie had a bad temper according to Tiffany, who had arrived late one Saturday afternoon with Meredith, a suitcase, and a black eye. When Margaret challenged her about leaving Scottie, her sister defended him, saying that it was just an accident and that she had tripped when he pushed her. It was all Margaret could do to say, "Why do you let him abuse you, Tiffany?"

"He didn't abuse me. I just told you. I tripped when he pushed me, and I fell on the floor. Anyway, mind your own business. I just want you to get Meredith out of his way until he calms down. He doesn't like it when she whinges."

"Tiffany, I swear to God that if he ever hurts that child, he will have more to deal with than he even knows is possible," said Margaret.

"Oh, get off my back. Just take Meredith for a few days." And with that, she turned and went back to her car without even saying goodbye. Her daughter was peeping from behind her teddy bear and clutching Auntie Marg's hand.

"Bye, Mummy," she said tearfully as the car roared up the road.

"Come inside, darling, and you can have a lovely bubble bath. Would you like that?"

"Oh yes, please, Auntie Marg. Can I have some books on the lounge with Teddy when I am all dry?"

"You certainly can, but I think something to eat after your bath would be better before the books, don't you? I'll get Uncle Ken to get one of your favourite meals ready. Would you like an egg and toast fingers or chicken nuggets?"

"Chicken nuggets, please. Do you have something Teddy can have too?"

"I'm sure Uncle Ken can find something not too messy for Teddy but a bath first for you, Miss Meredith."

When Meredith had been bathed, fed, and read to, she was put to bed in the room kept for her use with lots of cuddles and kisses. Teddy was also dressed in a pair of pyjamas that Margaret had made for him out of an old shirt of Ken's.

Within minutes, there was silence from the small bedroom where Meredith slept, but she didn't like sleeping in a darkened room. On one of her shopping trips, Margaret had found a ceramic fairy light that plugged into the wall power point and gave a soft glow. Meredith was thrilled with it and settled into sleep quickly once her fairy light was turned on.

Back in the kitchen, Ken was cleaning up after dinner and was immersing the dishes in the sink. He turned when Margaret walked into the kitchen. "Do you want a cuppa, love?"

"I think I need more than a cuppa, but in the absence of any alcohol in the house, that will have to do tonight. Isn't my sister the absolute limit?"

"She certainly is," replied Ken. "She's a walking disaster. I don't think she has ever grown up, but then again, she was the golden-haired daughter, wasn't she?"

"Yes, I was known as the smart one, and she was known as the pretty one. She could bat her baby blue eyes at Mum or Dad and would be forgiven for almost anything. No wonder she has grown up irresponsible and living the crazy life she does. I don't see any chance of her improving anytime soon."

"Me either," said Ken. "I just hope that nothing happens to that darling little girl asleep in the other bedroom. I love her as though she was our own, but unfortunately, she isn't."

Three weeks had gone by, and there was no word from Tiffany about when she would return. Mobile messages had gone to voicemail, and although the lack of returned calls was not unusual, Margaret had a bad feeling about this trip south with Scottie. She didn't trust him and knew that he had a drug habit as told to her in one of Tiffany's drunken rants.

Each time Margaret heard of a motor vehicle accident, she ran to the television to see if Tiffany's car was involved. One item of interest was a huge drug bust in the Riverina where itinerant workers were harvesting cannabis in a purpose-built hydroponic warehouse. There were scenes on the television of the police arrests, and...