Zidra watched Lorna. Lying face down on the ground, Lorna wriggled like a snake through the gap under the grey paling fence. One sock had slipped down so that her right heel was exposed, and her sandshoes were worn and dirty. Behind her she left a small tunnel through the long green grass.
‘This way, Dizzy!’ Lorna’s voice was a little muffled. ‘Come on, you slowcoach!’ Now her head peered over the top of the fence. So wide was her grin that it seemed to split her face in two. A few blades of grass were caught up in her wavy black hair.
Zidra lay down on the grass. Feeling it prickling through her blouse, she inched along the tunnel Lorna had made, and squirmed out the other side. Lorna held out a calloused hand and pulled her up.
‘We’ll get to the lagoon this way.’ Lorna pointed along the lane, which ran behind the houses opposite where Zidra lived, and right down to the water. ‘Then we’ll double back to the jetty. When yer ready to go home it’s straight up the hill.’
‘How will you get home?’
‘Around the lagoon and across the paddocks.’ Lorna shrugged. ‘Won’t take me long. I got all afternoon.’ She started skipping along the lane.
Zidra tried skipping but that was no good; she had to long jump to match Lorna’s stride. Lorna imitated her and they laughed so much that Zidra got stitches and doubled over. When something hard hit her leg she thought it was Lorna but her friend was staring up the lane. ‘Watch out,’ she whispered. ‘Get ready to run.’ Looking around, Zidra saw Roger and Barry and two other boys from school running down the lane towards them, hands full of pebbles and faces creased with concentration.
‘Go home, wogs! Don’t wancha here, ya bloody reffoes.’
‘Get outta ’ere, ya bloody Abo!’
More pebbles rained about them. One hit Zidra on her face. It hurt and she started to feel frightened. Lorna picked up a pebble and hurled it back. It struck Barry on the leg. He howled and lobbed a stone at Lorna. Though laughing defiantly, she put a hand on Zidra’s arm and said, ‘Run, Dizzy, we gotta get out of here.’
Zidra reeled as another stone hit her. This time it landed on her chest and almost knocked her to the ground.
‘Pick on someone yer own size,’ Lorna yelled.
‘He is my size,’ Zidra said, momentarily confused.
‘There’re four of them and two of us. Twice two is four.’ Lorna’s eyes were sparking almost as if she was enjoying the fight. Or maybe it was anger, Zidra decided, as she hunted around for something to throw. Bending to pick up a stone, she remembered her school-case on the grass several yards up the lane. Her mother would be furious if it got lost; she must get it back.
‘Leave it,’ Lorna shouted.
‘Wogs! Dagoes!’ shouted the four boys advancing towards them.
‘Jeez, you want your silly heads clapped together,’ said a loud, calm voice. Zidra turned to see Jim Cadwallader. Unnoticed, he’d somehow got himself into the lane next to them. ‘Talk about dumb. Haven’t you got anything better to do with your time?’ Leaning against the fence with his hands in his pockets, he looked as relaxed as if he’d been there the whole afternoon. ‘Why don’t you carry on, you two,’ he said to Zidra and Lorna. ‘I just want to have a few words with my friends here.’
Deep gratitude made Zidra’s knees wobbly, or maybe it was the shock. The morning that Jim had brought around the kindling and laughed at her, she’d thought he was just another smartypants boy. One of those who thought they were better than you for any old reason, but she’d been wrong about that; he wasn’t a smartypants boy after all.
A quick glance at Roger and Barry and the others now made her feel almost cheerful. They looked as if they’d been caught out by Miss Neville. Cowish, no, sheepish, was the word she was looking for. She picked up her case and ran down the lane after Lorna. They could’ve dealt with the boys even without Jim, Lorna said. But Zidra wasn’t so sure. They ran all the way to the jetty. Although it was deserted – and Zidra would, for once, have preferred to be where there were adults – she followed Lorna onto the planking. Lorna bounced along as happily as if the stoning had never happened while Zidra followed more slowly. There were big gaps between the boards and through these gaps she could see clear water and, below that, sand and bits of weed.
The girls sat side-by-side on the bottom step at the end of the jetty. It was a bit damp, but it was out of sight of anyone on the shore. Zidra stared out over the lagoon and took deep breaths to steady herself. Two black swans were cruising along on the far side of the water and a pelican followed them at a slight distance, as if it was in charge. The water in the lagoon was flowing towards the sea, towards the narrow mouth of the estuary that was just below the headland.
‘Once the tide comes in the water starts flowing the other way,’ Lorna said.
‘I know,’ said Zidra, although she didn’t. To make up for this lie, she asked Lorna when the tide would turn. Lorna knew everything about tides and the weather, but she was even worse than Zidra at multiplication. It was because she’d moved around so much and hadn’t had a decent schooling. That’s what Mrs Bates had told Mama yesterday after the piano lesson.
‘Got something for you.’ Lorna pulled out of her pocket a small flat shell, wider than it was high, and almost as pink as fairy floss. It nestled in her paler pink palm. Zidra reached out and stroked the seashell; it looked smooth but it had fine ridges that only touching could reveal.
‘It’s lovely.’
‘You can have it.’
A present; how Zidra loved to be given presents. She scooped up the pretty pink shell and stroked its surface again. She smiled at her friend. She’d like to give her something in return. Then she remembered it, the little wooden elephant – about the same size as the shell – that she’d been carrying around for days.
Putting a hand into her pocket, she pulled it out. Without a moment’s thought she held out both her hands, palm side up. On one palm lay the bright pink shell and on the other lay the green elephant. ‘Take it,’ she said. ‘I’d like you to have it.’
‘You sure?’
‘Of course I’m sure.’ Although now Zidra thought about it, she was starting to have her doubts. This was no sort of a swap. A pink shell that could be picked up from any old beach for an exotic green elephant that could only be found at Woodlands. But Lorna’s hand moved so fast that all Zidra saw was a blur, and the elephant had gone straight into her friend’s pocket.
It’s better to give than to receive, Zidra reminded herself; one of Mama’s sayings that Zidra had never thought much of. She’d rather receive than give any day.
She looked at the pink shell and held it up to the light. It cast a rosy light. She’d never seen anything quite like it before. It wasn’t just any old shell but a special shell, and probably the only nice thing Lorna had to give.
‘No one at school’s ever given me anything before,’ Lorna said, caressing the elephant. ‘This is the best present ever.’
Zidra smiled. Now she was glad she’d given it to Lorna. Maybe Mama was right. Giving was better than getting. ‘That’s Jingeroids for you,’ she said. ‘A mingy lot. No one at school’s ever given me anything either. Not even Miss Neville.’
‘She’s not allowed to whack the girls,’ said Lorna, laughing. ‘Glad you’ve come, Dizzy.’
‘Me too,’ Zidra said automatically. Afterwards she realised she meant it.
They sat in silence for a while. The light shimmered off the water like little light bulbs going on and off. Soon the water began to advance up the lagoon again, in small ripples that slapped against the piles of the jetty. The tide was turning, just as Lorna had said it would.
‘Time to go,’ she said. ‘Mum’ll worry if I take too long to get home.’ The word Mum still sounded strange but Mama was acquiring many names. There was the indoor name of Mama and the outdoor name of Mum, and then there was what she called herself, Ilona, and what the others like Mr Bates had started to call her, Elinor. Four words for the one person: Mama, Mum, Ilona and Elinor. ‘Mum’s still not used to me coming home on my own.’
‘She’ll learn.’
Zidra wasn’t so sure. It would be good to have a sister like Lorna, or maybe even a brother like Jim, to share some of Mama’s attention. Though at least she had some friends now. And a present too – Lorna’s beautiful pink shell.
Lorna headed off around the edge of the lagoon and into the bush, while Zidra trudged up the hill. When she was almost home she heard shouts from the top. Boys with billycarts were milling about in front of the war memorial. Her hands started to tremble and she wished Lorna were with her. Hoping the boys wouldn’t see her, she walked more slowly, close to the ragged hedge bordering the gravel verge. Then she realised that one of the boys was Jim. He waved at her and she waved back. The others didn’t notice, they were so intent on lining up their carts. Once through the front gate she felt safer. Now she could hear the sounds of Mama giving a piano lesson, a five-finger exercise that was being endlessly repeated.
‘I’m home, Mama!’ Zidra stuck her head around the door of the lounge room. Elizabeth, a girl of about eleven from school, was sitting at the piano next to Mama.
Mama looked around briefly and said, ‘You’re a little late, darling.’
‘Had stuff to do,’ Zidra said vaguely, but she needn’t have worried. Mama was focusing on the piano keys again; you’d have thought daughters would matter more than an old piano. Maybe she could have stayed out later with Lorna after all, though Mama was probably saving up her complaints ready to tell her off once the lesson was over.
Zidra went into the kitchen. She took the milk jug out of the ice chest and poured a glass. After gulping this down, she selected the largest apple from the fruit bowl on the dresser, and wiped her milky upper lip on the tea towel. Anxiety about Roger did not prevent her from going outside again. Down the back steps, along the side passage and under the hedge without being seen by anyone. Munching her apple, she watched the billycarts race down the hill. Maybe the Cadwallader boys would let her have a go one day but she wouldn’t be asking any favours while that Roger was hanging around.