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Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The oak tree was huge and from where Lucas stood, its shape reminded him of a piece of broccoli. The great trunk was thick and gnarled, the leaves spreading like a vast canopy of deep jade. This magnificent symbol of nature sat alone in a green field, an azure, cloudless sky as a backdrop. Lucas ambled up the hill. There was no such thing as urgency in a place such as this. His heart maintained the sense of peace he had carried since . . .

When?

He wasn’t sure, and when he thought about it he realised the matter was not important. He stalled and looked back down the hill, his journey marked by the path he’d trampled into the deep, emerald grass.

At the bottom of the hill, the fields went on for as far as the eye could see, a writhing mass, making it difficult to focus. For some reason the image of a house with a patched roof and a small boy sitting on a wall came to mind but it drifted away before he could grasp at it.

He shook his head, a smile spreadin
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