The River Charm by Belinda Murrell

baked bread smothered in creamy yellow butter, topped with pale-pink ham and a smear of mustard.
    When the billy boiled, Charlotte made cups of sweet, milky tea for everyone, which they drank out of tin mugs, while Mamma handed around slices of bread and ham. James stood sentinel on the bank, watching the lines of five makeshift rods carefully to see if one of them twitched.
    â€˜Mmmm,’ said Charlotte, feeding a scrap of ham to Samson. ‘Why is it that everything tastes better out in the open air? This is the best ham I have ever tasted!’
    â€˜Tea tastes completely different out of a tin mug,’ added Emily. ‘It has an exotic smoky flavour, as though it has travelled thousands of miles on camelback.’
    â€˜I wish we could live out of doors always,’ added Louisa. ‘Then we would never have to do chores or study or practise the piano.’
    Louisa fed her doll a crusty crumb and a teensy sip of tea.
    â€˜Being outside is the best place to learn, poppet,’ replied Mamma, gesturing at the creek, the paddocks and the graceful trees. ‘Surrounded by the beauties of nature. Out here, you are learning without even realising it.’
    One of the yabby lines dragged taut. James dropped his bread, where it was quickly gobbled up by Samson, and grabbed the net.
    Slowly, slowly he inched the line in and gradually pulled it up to reveal a plump crustacean clinging to the strip of bait. In an instant, James had the net under the yabby so that when the creature realised it was out of the water, it dropped off and was captured safely.
    â€˜I caught one,’ James cried. ‘We are having boiled yabbies for supper tonight.’
    â€˜Boiled yabby ,’ corrected Charlotte, her hand on her hip. ‘At this rate we will have barely a quarter of a tea­spoon each!’
    A second string tugged. James smiled triumphantly at Charlotte and dropped his first catch into an iron bucket of pond water. Charlotte and Emily raced down to the waterhole to help, trying not to slip on the mossy, muddy bank.
    In a moment, another rod twitched sharply, then another.
    â€˜Come on, Louisa,’ called Emily. ‘That one is for us to land.’
    Louisa skipped down to help hold the rod while Emily scooped the net. The bucket soon held four plump yabbies.
    â€˜That’s one for Mamma, one for me, one for Louisa and one for Emily,’ James said, tying a new strip of meat onto his string. ‘Looks like you might be going hungry tonight, Charlotte.’
    Charlotte tossed her head, flicking back her long black hair. ‘With all this racket you are making, it’s a wonder we have caught any yabbies at all,’ she retorted. James poked out his tongue.
    Mamma had been sitting quietly, mending some of James’s torn breeches and sipping on her tea. She rubbed her forehead as though it ached.
    â€˜My darlings, there is something I must talk to you about,’ Mamma began, putting aside the sewing. She slipped her hand inside her pocket and took out a small, red-brown pebble, which she rubbed between her fingertips. ‘It is something of grave importance . . .’
    Emily stopped tidying up the bread scraps and sat down quietly, her head to one side and her hazel eyes gazing steadily at her mother. James safely landed a fifth yabby in the bucket while Louisa continued to feed her doll.
    Charlotte felt her stomach knot. What does Mamma want to talk to us about? Why does she look so worried? Is it something to do with that letter?
    â€˜I have been corresponding with the executors,’ Mamma announced. She took a deep breath and smoothed out a crease in her skirt.
    Charlotte glanced at Emily. Louisa put her doll down.
    â€˜The executors have decided that it is not in your interests for us to live here at Oldbury anymore,’ Mamma announced, her eyes on the yabby lines. ‘They plan to sell all the sheep, cattle and horses, and lease out Oldbury