A real page turner

Retreating to the country after a tough year, Fiona Winslow decides to restore the dilapidated family estate — until an intriguing novel opens a mystery that spans across generations.

- KELLY RIMMER

I'm feeling brighter with the dawn of a new day.

Uncle Tad always said a good book could fix just about anything, and reading The Midnight Estate last night certainly did help me wind down until I could sleep.

Now, it's time to get back into something of a healthier routine, so I rummage through the boxes in the ballroom until I find some activewear and my running shoes, and then I hit the road. Tad always started each day with a walk around sunrise, and I used to do the same, back before everything went to hell.

I'm running a little late on that schedule by the time I get going today, but I walk for about half an hour, almost as far as Jack's house, before I turn back to Wurimbirra.

The cold morning air burns my lungs and throat and I'm so out of shape that every incline has me panting in an undignified fashion, but the only way I'm going to fix that is to get started. So it feels good to have made a step in the right direction.

My good mood lasts exactly as long as it takes me to walk back through the house to the kitchen. My footsteps stop as I walk through that door, because there's glass everywhere.

Last night when I went to bed I left a neat line of Uncle Tad's glassware drying along the countertop, and now more than half of those glasses are on the floor, most shattered.

I'm so stunned that for a moment, all I can do is stand and stare, as if I can will that baffling mess away.

And then I do the next logical thing, which is to try to explain it away.

Freak wind? But the windows and doors are shut, so that doesn't explain it.

Did I knock the glasses somehow when I came down to get the book and did I somehow just not notice the noise? I was tired and a little off, but I wasn't in a coma, so no.

And then in a heartbeat, my mind goes to more alarming places.