Abstract
The were for of us squashed into the front of the old Ford ute. There weren't enough seatbelts to go around so every time Mum saw a white car in the distance, Lydia, as the smallest, had to slide off the seat and onto our feet. We held her head down until we knew the car wasn't police and then she'd push her way back onto the bench seat, wiggling her hips from side to side to get us all to make room...