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She was going to kill Jack Miller.

Spending her life in prison was preferable to spending another day dealing with the idiot. Nope. She was going to do the world a favour and get rid of him. Now. This minute. She narrowed her eyes. It was justice. After all – he’d just killed her car. Her precious Pink Lady was well and truly dead.

“Now, Davina, think about what you’re doing,” Jack said as he held up his hands.

He seemed to be backing towards the house. He kept glancing over his shoulder as though there was something there that would rescue him. Fool. Nothing could save him now.

“I didn’t see the car. I wouldn’t intentionally drop a tree on it. I know I said it was an abomination and should be trashed, but I was joking. It was a great car.” He backed up the steps towards the veranda. “A great pink car. So I’m sorry about the tree. I’ll fix the car. You have insurance right? You must have...”

Davina stormed towards him. All she could think about was inflicting pain. She ran up the steps towards him. At the corner of the building, towards the back of the house, she managed to get close enough to aim. She pulled back her fist to shoulder level. Jack’s eyes went wide. Her aim was perfect, but he was too fast for her. He ducked out of range, making her even more mad at him.

“You need to calm down,” he told her, which had the opposite effect.

Steam came out of her ears. She heard it hiss. She picked up the nearest plant pot and aimed at his head. Jack ducked and it shattered on the wooden floor.

“Seriously,” he told her. “This can’t be good for your blood pressure. Take a few deep breaths.”

She lobbed another plant pot instead. It smashed against the wall. Davina stamped her foot with frustration.

“Stand still and take it like a man,” she told him.

“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m going to do,” he said before he lunged at his jacket, which was hanging on the rail beside the kitchen door.

“Coward,” Davina shouted as she came up beside him.

“Smart,” he said as he twisted out of her reach.

And then, in slow motion, he lost his balance and landed on an old rattan chair. A look of panic flashed across his face just as Davina prepared her right hook. She aimed at his nose. But she never got a chance to throw the punch.

There was a loud ping. Jack’s eyes went wide. For a second time stopped still. Then he fell through the seat of the chair.

Davina took a step backwards. Her jaw dropped to her chest. There was a commotion behind her as the rest of her crew came screeching to a halt on the veranda. For a minute there was stunned silence.

Jack’s backside was on the floor, while the rim of the chair had his knees trapped up around his shoulders. His arms flailed about at his sides. He looked bewildered. His dark, moody eyes peered up at all of them.

“Is anybody going to help me?” he asked.

The group exchanged looks and then, as one, they began to giggle. Jack was not amused, which made them laugh louder. They were clinging to each other wiping tears from their cheeks while Jack sat trapped on the veranda floor.

“Hey,” Jack shouted, “I need a hand here.”

He tried to wiggle in the chair, but he was well and truly stuck. He put his knuckles on the floor like a chimpanzee and pushed, but nothing happened. Davina had to hold on to the veranda pole, she was laughing so hard.

“I’m going to get the camera,” Marianne announced.

“Don’t you dare,” Jack shouted. His threat was so impotent it made everybody laugh even harder.

Davina sat on the top step beside him and wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I couldn’t have planned this better myself,” she said.

“Come on, Davy, have a heart. This is painful.”

It looked it too. Shame. She grinned.

“You killed my car, Jack. Now seems like a good time to talk about that.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he said. “I didn’t see it.”