Flight of the Jabiru by Elizabeth Haran Read Free Book Online

claims she’s innocent of the first charge and the second charge was an accident. I actually believe her, but there are no witnesses to support her case. She’s a well-respected member of society, a teacher actually. Her pupils love her, their parents love her, and she’s never been in trouble before.”
    â€œThen give her a bond. As she has no prior record that would be the most practical thing to do.”
    â€œIt’s not that simple. Both of her so-called victims want her to receive a custodial sentence.”
    â€œThat’s for the court to decide, not them,” Paul stated.
    â€œIf only it were that simple,” Winston mumbled, thinking of his sister. He would have liked to tell his friend about the problem, but that was impossible without revealing the difficulties of his sister. Instead he changed the subject. “Where should lead your next trip?” “Where will your travels take you next?” he added, wanting to change the subject.
    â€œI’m here to see if there’s any way I can recruit teachers who would be willing to work in Northern Australia.”
    â€œTeachers? Why?”
    â€œWith so many men serving in the war, the children in Northern Australia are running amok. They hardly ever attend school so they get up to mischief and end up in trouble with the law. I fear most of them will be in jail as soon as they’re adults.”
    â€œWhy don’t they attend school?”
    â€œThe lifestyle is different in Northern Australia. The children want to be outside more. They are distracted by pursuits such as fishing and swimming. The schools are so short staffed that the numbers in the classes are double what they should be. So when students are missing, nothing is done about it. Some of the smaller schools don’t even have teachers, so they are forced to close.”
    â€œThankfully that problem does not exist here,” Winston said thoughtfully.

CHAPTER FOUR

    Sleeting rain washed over Lara’s face, plastering her hair to her head. She was hoeing weeds between a long line of cabbages and carrots. Her hands were raw with blisters and her back ached, but she was outside. That was all that mattered.
    Lara was wearing an oversized raincoat and wellington boots, as were three other prisoners working between different rows of vegetables. Neither was adequate protection. Raindrops from her hair trickled down her neck and under the raincoat, soaking her back. The inside of her worn-out boots had also become damp. She wouldn’t complain though. She was able to breathe fresh air, something she’d never again take for granted. If it had been blowing a gale she still wouldn’t complain or go inside.
    As someone being held without bail, it wasn’t mandatory for Lara to perform labor. For the first three days of being incarcerated she stared at the four walls in her cell in the Hollesley Bay Prison in a state of near panic. Finally, she begged the prison staff to let her work outside. It didn’t matter that she’d never tended a vegetable in her life. She volunteered to weed. That had been a week ago and four of the seven days since had been wet.
    Lara would’ve done anything to avoid her claustrophobic, damp cell, inhabited by scuttling insects, where twenty-four hours felt like a week. Her bed was as hard as a plank of wood; her blankets smelt like dogs had slept on them, and they were itchy against her skin. They provided no warmth, so she shivered through sleepless nights with a cold breeze coming through the bars of the tiny window too high to afford a view. She’d cried so much that she felt she had no tears left. Fortunately, she didn’t share a cell, but she could still hear screams and anguished cries echoing in the corridors at all hours of the night. It was like being awake in the worst nightmare imaginable.
    â€œPenrose! You’ve got a visitor,” one of the guards called from the shelter of an