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Losing a mother before adulthood isn't the norm, of course, but its effect can be profound on a child, therapists say. We look elsewhere for nurturing, but don't know how to receive it. We tend to be hyper-independent, always braced for rejection and unable to ask for help.

Artistic: Charlotte is a gifted painter painted and drawer and budding graffitist. Audrey knows that good art can tell an entire story. She has seen it, and she tries to do the same with her own artworks. The margins of her schoolbooks are murals by the time she’s done with them. Paints and brushes are her favourite tools but more recently she has also started using stencils and spray cans.

Opinionated: Whether people ask for her opinion or not Charlotte is happy to provide it for them. Her outlooks on life tend to be childishly simple but with the cynicism and pessimistic view of a world weary adult. Since people don’t seem interested in what she has to say she prefers to convey her opinions through her artworks. She is becoming rather good at conveying her meaning through them which is more than can be said for many artists.

Inquisitive: Children are naturally curious beings and Charlotte is no exception. If she didn’t want to be an artist then Charlotte would probably be a famous girl detective like Harriet the spy or Nancy Drew. London is full of mysteries and secrets that are just waiting to be uncovered. And that delicious element of danger that goes with it is irresistible.

Distrustful: It takes Charlotte a while to warm up to people. She's very polite (most of the time) but getting her to relax and actively enjoy a stranger's company takes time. These reserved tendencies are greatest with women around her mother's age, especially if they treat her like a child, but occurs to a lesser extent with nearly all the adults she meets. With other children however she's fine.

Playful: Charlotte can’t help but love games and activities, she’s still a child after all. She enjoys large group oriented games that involve lots of running around and shouting, but is equally happy playing by herself with just her paints and imagination for company. It can take a while for her to become relaxed enough to join in with others in their games, but once she gets going she’s gone.

Mature: Well, a pretence of maturity at any rate. Charlotte very badly wants to be able to take care of herself, she’s done it before and she was alright then. But adults then and now persist in thinking that she needs an adult guardian. Charlotte’s on a mission to prove them wrong because really, how reliable are grownups? How can she be sure that they’ll be there for her when she really needs them? Really, she’s better off when she’s looking after herself.

Bossy: Charlotte loves to tell people what to do and makes no apologise for it. Whether it be a school project or a family outing she's all too happy to put herself in charge and direct operations. She's not even afraid to tell adults what to do if she thinks that they need some guidance. This gets her a lot of criticism but she doesn't care, she'd like to see them do a better job at getting the classroom organised!

Contrary: A lot of the time when Charlotte dismisses something as “silly” or “childish” she’s actually very interested in it. Likewise when she pretends to be really into something she’s probably dying of boredom on the inside. Charlotte’s been contrary ever since she was born but at the moment she’s rather worse than usual because she’s hiding the secret of her sneaking out at night to spray paint.

Fun loving: Sure Charlotte might say that Luna Park is for babies, but that doesn’t stop her from being the first in line to buy herself a ticket. Nor will it stop her from going on the largest scariest ride in the place, or running from the other side of the park and back fifty times until the excitement wears off. Being mature is one thing, but denying a fun time for the sake of maturity is quite another.

Frustrated: Being dismissed. Being abandoned. Being twelve years old. Charlotte is continuously frustrated at the sheer blindness that people have to the mess that the world’s in, the mess with her mother not the least among them. Normally this resentment is hidden away behind short words and distrustful silences. The only way she lets it out is through her art and more recently, through her disobedience.

Painting: The initial interest began when she was very young and has been carefully cultivated into a passion. Painting is something she cannot imagine not doing, it the best medium to express herself.

Graffiti-ing: Like her other art it’s a way for her to express her opinion and feelings to a wider audience. But with the added danger of being out by herself and the risk of getting caught. It’s a thrill as much as an escape.

Knick-knacks: Glitter pens, miniature notebooks, charm bracelets, animal shaped erasers… the usual assortment of trinkets you pick up when you’re twelve.

Lucille Nibourette: Every young girl needs a rock star chick to hero-worship, and who better than the amazing fish girl who actually solved her own case, with the help of her fans no less! Charlotte thinks she’s wonderful.

Detective novels: Being a detective must be so exciting! Her favourites are The Famous Five and Nancy Drew and Miss Fisher mysteries.

Rabbits: They’re so cute! Her dad’s apartment block didn’t allow pets, but now she’s with Kyle there’s hope that she may own one yet, he got so many other animals after all. Surely a fluffy bunny-kin will be allowed.

Being ignored: Charlotte finds the dismissive words ‘You’re only a kid, you don’t understand these things.’ Absolutely infuriating, so what if she wouldn’t understand, they’re not even bothering to listen let alone understand.

Spiders: Spiders are scary and hairy and have too many legs. Also they scuttle. Charlotte refuses to be in the same room as a spider, even if they’re not poisonous. You never know what might happen.

Spicy food: Hot, hot! Ouch, Ouch! Nasty stuff. People tell her that she’ll outgrow this as she gets older. Charlotte doesn’t believe them.

People thinking she's "childish": ‘I’m not a little girl!’ Insists Charlotte as she stamps her foot in frustration. All those patronising looks and “we’re just doing what’s best for you” comments don’t help. She hates those dismissive words.

Her mother: If her mother hadn’t been such an irresponsible parent most of the messes in her life wouldn’t exist, Charlotte resents her for this.

Country living: The rustic lifestyle may have it's own charms but Charlotte is a city girl who enjoys having air conditioning and fluoride flavoured water, thank you very much.

~To become an artist: Charlotte loves creating artworks and silently suspects that she’s rather good at it. Being able to earn her living in her own studio on her own terms would be absolutely amazing.

~To become a detective: If the artist plan does not work out then Charlotte wants to become a detective, just like the heroes and she-roes in her books. Catching the bad guys and bringing them to justice seems like such a great thing to do, and exciting!

~To grow up great: Is that not what every child wants? To be tall enough, strong enough and smart enough to look after themselves. Everything from crossing the road by herself to earning her own wages is a longed for dream.

=Being caught: Like most respectable delinquents Charlotte does not want to be caught in the act. This fear isn’t enough to stop her sneaking out to graffiti but it does make her take some precautions, such as leaving a lump under her blanket to give her an alibi and wearing a hat and gloves to conceal her identity 

= Being taken back to her mum: While her mother has repeatedly proven to be an irresponsible parent there are still several years of Charlotte’s childhood left for her to try again. Charlotte would rather live with the gorillas.

= Fire: This is something of a cultural fear, everyone in that big old continent down south dreads the very idea of bushfires consuming their livelihood, and perhaps their lives. 

Cordelia (at least that’s what she called herself) was an artistic woman who lived for the rush. Emotions were never to be denied. She fuelled her passions by converting to a new religion at least once a month, long trips to remote places to “find herself” and having a daughter who would love her utterly and unconditionally. Except motherhood doesn’t work quite like that. There’s love certainly, but there’s also exhaustion, sacrifice and a whole lotta nappies. Cordelia hadn’t signed up for this. Why didn’t the child cry pretty baby tears that could be stopped with a mere kiss? Why did she insist on ruining her clothes in the paint instead of sitting quietly while mum was redecorating? She began leaving young Charlotte more often in the care of her husband Robert, telling him that “I need some me-time and you can bond with your little girl” before driving merrily away and not reappearing for several days.

While Robert did love his daughter and didn’t mind looking after her he also had his job to think about. He called Cordelia back one day and asked her to leave off the trips for a few years and look after her child. Cordelia retaliated by calling her husband conventional, restricting and boring. This continued for nearly a year until the couple divorced when Charlotte was five. Her mother got weekday and her father was given weekends and holidays by a not uncaring but certainly time constrained judge. Cordelia continued on with her “free spirited” lifestyle, loving her daughter to pieces when she felt like it and (when she didn’t) solving the childcare issue with a steady stream of oblivious boyfriends. Charlotte was a fairly low maintenance child, happy to play with her paints for hours on end, but no partner appreciates being used as a free babysitter and the partners usually left fairly quickly.

By the time Charlotte was eight extended periods of time spent by herself had become a familiar event. Consequently she learnt to be responsible for her own care and skilled at lying though her teeth when people at school asked why her mother hadn’t shown up for the swimming carnival. The weekends with her dad continued and Charlotte loved the time she spent with him for he was a good and devoted parent. She longed for her mother to be consistent like him and would do her best to be a very good happy little girl when her mother was home so she would stay with her always, but she never did. On days when her mother wasn’t home Charlotte painted her longing onto paper, along with her growing sadness, resentment and anger.

When she was eleven Charlotte’s father got engaged again and he took his daughter to meet her new stepmother. In fairy tales stepmothers are wicked and cruel but Charlotte discovered that in real life they are actually pretty awesome. Cordelia had always ran away from her seemingly unsolvable problems, Kate faced hers and fixed them, with duct tape. Cordelia screamed at the sight of a bug, Kate kept twenty seven in her laundry room. Cordelia was indifferent to her daughter growing up, Kate brought Charlotte her first bra. When Charlotte declared that she wanted to go to a high school that would nurture her passion for art she had Kate’s full support and together they searched for likely looking places. Eventually they settled on a school in London, there was no boarding facilities but Kate assured her that would not be a problem “You can stay with my son, he has his own house in London, he’s an absolute darling and would love to help you out.” It was arranged that Kate and Robert would see her off on the plane to Sydney and Cordelia would see her off on the one to London.

Except Cordelia didn’t see her daughter off to London. Charlotte waited for over an hour and even tried calling her on a payphone but there was no answer. She was alone, and had to catch a plane in five hours. Any young girl could easily have panicked in this situation but Charlotte reminded herself she had been by herself before and blinked back her tears. She used all her spending money on a bus to the airport and managed to get herself checked in and boarded with nothing more than a few raised eyebrow and an embarrassing ‘unaccompanied minor’ badge. That was the day that Charlotte realised that her mother had never really cared for her and she would have to look out for herself from now on. Kyle met her at Heathrow with a grin and a huge sign saying “Welcome to Pommyland Charlie!” He and his brother/cousin/sheep Wes were nice guys even if Wes was sick a lot and Kyle kept on bringing weird animals in. But underneath her sweet face Charlotte’s inner anger was stirring, she needed to let someone, anyone know how hurt she was. That is when she started sneaking out of the house after lights out to go and paint the town with her spray cans. So far her work is crude, but she is starting to get acclaim for how distinctive and touching her artwork is, others simply look at her graffiti and think “kids these days."

Charlie was ogling the window of the airplane like it was the portal to another universe. Buildings that typically towered above her were reduced to the size of Lego blocks. Highways looked like ants’ trails, with hundreds of tiny ants crawling along in neat little lines to get back to their nests. As the clouds approached Charlie wondered if they would look like candyfloss, she had read that in a children’s book once, but was disappointed to see that those fluffy white bundles were little more than fog up in the sky. Still, it looked pretty awesome though when they were above the clouds and the blue sky stretched out to the ends of the Earth. For someone whose vision had always been blocked by high rise buildings this view was incredible.

“It’s really something isn’t it?” A fellow passenger had noticed Charlie’s fascination with the window “Is this your first plane trip then dearie?”

Charlotte gave the women sitting next to her a cool glance. She was dressed for comfort in jeans and a jumper and was wearing her hair loose. She looked to be around her mother’s age. “It’s okay” she said trying to sound bored “I’ve been on lots of plane trips before”. Okay she hadn’t, this was her first plane trip, if you excluded the two flights in the rickety old contraption that had taken her inland and back. Those contraptions hadn’t flown very far though, and hadn’t gone up nearly as high as this plane did. Still they probably counted as lots so she wasn’t really lying. Charlie dragged her eyes away from the window and dug out her sketch pad and pencils.

By the time she had drawn several planes, declined the silly kiddy pack that had been offered to her by the cabin crew, picked at her dinner and watched a movie the sky outside the window had darkened and people were settling down for the evening. Charlie tried to do the same but sleeping in an upright chair with no sprawl room was very different from sleeping in a bed. Sleeping in fact, seemed impossible in these circumstances, and when she woke up her body felt gritty and unrested. She had managed to sleep for fours in total.

After what seemed like forever the pilot announced that they were now flying over London. The glow of the city lights down below made Charlie anxious. Would her stepbrother Kyle be there to pick her up? Would he like her? Would she like him? He had sounded pretty nice on the phone but now she was about to meet him for real. Would he be there to meet her? She had managed well enough in Sydney when her mother had failed to show up. But London was unfamiliar to her, and so much bigger, how would she be able to find her way around?

The arrivals process was easy enough. Charlie followed everyone else to collect her suitcase and joined the queue for the Commonwealth countries at the security checkpoint. Citizens from the colonies seemed to be regarded as not much of a threat because they were soon through and in the waiting area. Charlie was surrounded in a sea of people and couldn’t see far, everyone else was at least a head taller than her. How was she going to find Kyle?

“There you are” Charlie turned around to see who had spoken and came face to face with a very familiar stranger.

“Kyle?” The stranger grinned and held out his hand for Charlie to shake.

“The one and only, and you must be Charlie. Welcome to Pommyland.”