 From the studios of Books in Motion, this is Kevin Foley, reading Walk About, by Aaron Fletcher. Now let's begin with Walk About. PART 1 CHAPTER 1 Benjamin, come here, please. Gripped by fear, the boy ignored his mother's voice. He sat on a limb in an iron-bark tree in his back garden, his refuge in times of distress. The events which had unfolded over the past weeks seemed to be drawing to a conclusion. Something dreadful was about to happen. No one had told him the reasons for what had happened, and he had avoided asking. He had tried to disregard what was taking place, merely wanting his secure, orderly world to remain unchanged. But that morning his mother had kept him home from school, and she had put out his Sunday clothes for him to wear. Benjamin, I know you can hear me. Clara Tavish called. Now, come here, my dear. Reluctantly the boy climbed down from the tree and stepped toward his mother in the kitchen doorway. Among the things that had happened, the one that had troubled him most was how she had changed until only her loving smile was the same as always. Doctor Oliver Willis had come to the house with increasing frequency to see her, but she had still become ever more pallid and thin, her eyes often red from crying. They were once again red from crying as she bent over him, brushing bits of tree-bark off his clothes. Promise me that you'll be a staunch little man, my love? She said softly. That was what she always said when he had to keep from crying, and it made his fear swell within him. Stealing himself against some unknown ordeal, Jeremy managed a nod in reply. Then his mother took his hand and led him through the house toward the parlor. Their footsteps echoed hollowly in the house, the furnishings having been taken away. The boy's half-brother and two half-sisters, all much older than he, had moved out and taken some things. Then people had bought other items. He had begun running home from school each day, fearing that nothing would be left of his home when he got there. In the parlor was a middle-aged couple whose expensive clothing marked them as having position and wealth. He knew the woman who had visited twice before that he could recall, and brought him toys and sweets. Her white hair seemed out of place because her attractive face had no hint of wrinkles. She had been very affectionate toward him when she had visited before, and she smiled now as he stepped into the room. The man with her was a stranger to Jeremy. His white hair was matched by wrinkles and other signs of middle age, and he had the bearing of a youthfully vigorous man. He was tall and muscular, with strong rugged features that relaxed in a smile as he gazed at Jeremy. Jeremy, Clara said, I'm sure you remember your grandmother, Mistress Alexandra Kerrick. As I've told you, she and her husband live far away in the outback, and he came to Sydney with her this time. He is Mr. David Kerrick, your grandfather. The boy bowed, muttering a greeting. The relationships his mother had mentioned meant nothing to him, because his only bonds of kinship and love were with her, and to a lesser degree with his half-brother and half-sisters. He knew he was different. In the schoolyard boys had pointed it out bluntly by calling him a bastard. He had stepped closer to Jeremy, bending over him. The tulle trim on her wide hat brushed his head as she hugged and kissed him, and the scent of her perfume stirred his vague recollections of the several times she had visited, when he had been too young to remember clearly. It's always such a joy to see you, my dear, she told him, and each time I do I'm astonished by how you've grown. She turned to her husband. Jeremy is very large and husky for his eight years, isn't he, David? Indeed he is, the man agreed, is a fine, handsome lad. Jeremy tried to smile, but he was uneasy about them, and wondered why they were there. Then as he noticed what was beside the front door, his fear exploded into panic. He wanted to run to the iron-bark. Sample complete. Ready to continue?