Space Demons Read online

  It would have been easier if David had talked to her about it. But whenever she tried to mention it he clamped his lips together, and later he would lose his temper with her, apparently over something else. The silence filled her with pain and guilt, and the anger with fear and resentment. Because she had nobody to talk to about the way she felt, she wrote endless letters to her mother in her head. Most of them never got written down, and the ones that actually did get written were never posted—she did not know where to send them—but they gave her the illusion that her mother was still within reach and still cared for her.

  Dear Mum, she now wrote in her mind, I’ve got to go to another new school. I need some new clothes. And do you think I should get my hair cut?

  She sat down at the table and took the mug of tea her father pushed towards her. A few moments earlier she had been complaining that nothing she did mattered to him. Now, perversely, it gave her a feeling of satisfaction that he had no idea what was going on inside her head. She put three spoonfuls of sugar in her tea and stirred it, looking round at the half-built kitchen. On the table were an opened packet of bread, a tub of margarine and a jar of Vegemite. Both the margarine and the Vegemite had flecks of sawdust in them.

  ‘You want something to eat?’ David enquired, putting down his cup and helping himself to bread and Vegemite and sawdust.

  Elaine shook her head. ‘I’m not hungry.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’ He got up, still chewing. ‘I’d better get to work. There’s a heck of a lot to do on this place, and we don’t want to stay here forever.’

  ‘Aren’t you coming up to the school with me?’ she asked quickly.

  He looked at her in surprise. ‘Do you want me to?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said, but in fact she wasn’t sure. He was so noticeable, that was the trouble. People always stared at him: he was so big, and he had such a lot of red hair. But going to a new school alone was dreadful too.

  It didn’t matter that she couldn’t decide. David had already decided. He picked up the power-saw that was lying on the half-finished workbench.

  ‘You’ll be right,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you up there after, okay?’

  ‘Okay,’ she replied. ‘Can I have some money for lunch?’

  He took a two-dollar coin out of his pocket and gave it to her. ‘Have a good day, kiddo!’

  ‘Okay,’ she said again. The noise of the saw started up before she had opened the front door and let herself out.

  Dear Mum, she thought, beginning a new letter as the door banged shut behind her, not only is your daughter going to a new school with no new clothes, she is also going with no breakfast. In the rain, she added, as she dodged the wet, tangled shrubs in the overgrown garden and went out past a front gate that had fallen off its hinges and now leaned against a crumbling stone wall.

  As she stepped on to the pavement a bicycle raced past her and jumped off the kerb, splashing her feet and legs with water from the gutter. She caught sight of a dark-haired boy in a black jacket and black jeans, and she yelled after him, ‘Watch out where you’re going, you idiot!’

  Another boy came out of the driveway of the house next door, shouting, ‘Wait for me, Mars! Mum said you’re to wait for me!’

  The boy on the bike took no notice of either of them, and disappeared round the corner. His brother gave a theatrical sigh, muttering to himself, ‘Wait till I tell Mum.’ He had a round, olive-skinned face, cheerful and rather plump, and brown hair and eyes.

  ‘Hey,’ he said to Elaine. ‘Did you just move in?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘You going to Kingsgate School? I’ll walk along with you, show you the way.’

  ‘I can find it myself,’ she said warily. She had started new schools so often that she had grown canny. It didn’t pay to be too friendly with anyone to start with. Usually the kids who went out of their way to be friendly were the ones nobody else liked. They cornered you, and then nobody else wanted to know you.

  ‘What’s your name?’ the boy asked, unsnubbed. Elaine realised that he would be hard to shake off. He was about as sensitive as a jackhammer. ‘Elaine Taylor,’ she said, with a slight upward inflection, meaning, ‘You want to make something of it?’

  ‘Mine’s John,’ he said. ‘John Ferrone. We live next door to you. That was my brother, Mario. He’s supposed to wait for me, but he never does. He’s at high school, Year 8. I’m in Year 7. What are you in?’

  ‘Year 7,’ she said. This time the inflection meant ‘Mind your own business’. She started walking quickly up the road.

  John Ferrone walked along next to her, wheeling his bicycle. ‘Did you really pay a hundred thousand for the house?’ he said. ‘My dad says you were taken for a ride.’

  ‘We didn’t pay anything for it,’ Elaine said. ‘It doesn’t belong to us. We’re just staying in it for a while.’

  ‘I didn’t think your dad could’ve afforded it. He’s a chippy, isn’t he? I saw the ute with all his gear.’

  ‘Snoopy little fellow,’ Elaine thought angrily.

  ‘He’s fixing the house up a bit, is he?’ John didn’t exactly ask questions, he made statements, and if you didn’t answer them he assumed they were true. Now he made another one. ‘Your mum’s not around. She dead?’

  Dear Mum, Elaine thought, are you dead? Is that why you never answer my letters?

  ‘No,’ she said aloud, ‘she’s not dead. She’s in Sydney.’

  ‘She run out on you?’ John asked.

  Elaine did not answer. John observed a few minutes of silence in sympathy, and then started again. ‘Were you with a circus?’

  This surprised her so much that she turned to face him. ‘Why?’

  ‘I’ve seen you doing those acrobatics. You’re really good. And your dad looks like a circus type—he could be a weight-lifter. And he’s got long hair too.’

  ‘We travelled with a circus for a bit,’ she said. ‘Couple of years ago, in New South Wales.’ Immediately she wished she hadn’t admitted it. She was angry with this boy who had already discovered so many of her secrets.

  ‘Wish I could do that stuff,’ he was saying. ‘You know anything else? Any magic tricks? I love magic tricks. Or juggling?’

  Elaine pressed her lips closer together so she wouldn’t say anything. In fact, David could juggle a bit, knew a lot of magic tricks, and loved showing them to people, but if she told John that, he’d be coming round all the time. She walked faster. John got on his bike and pedalled slowly along beside her. He didn’t ask her any more questions. Instead he told her about himself. She heard about his three brothers, one married with a baby daughter and living in Port Augusta, one still living at home but working, and Mario, the wild thirteen-year-old, whom John alternately feared and admired. By the time they got to the school gate Elaine knew all about his mother, a hospital nurse who worked long shift hours, and his father, who was a builder. She also knew that if she didn’t get rid of John Ferrone soon she would go round the twist.

  John had no intention of being got rid of. ‘Come on,’ he said, as they walked into the school yard, ‘there’s Mr Russell, our teacher. We’ll ask if I can be your minder. Everyone new gets a minder to mind out for them the first week at school.’

  ‘Oh heck,’ thought Elaine, ‘everything’s going wrong! I’m going to be landed with this creep, and I can’t see any other girls wearing jeans!’

  Mr Russell was young and friendly. ‘Hi, Elaine,’ he said. ‘You’re in my Year 7 class. I’ll show you where the classroom is and get you some books. Thanks, John, but I think we’ll find one of the girls to look after Elaine. You go and put your bike away in the rack.’

  ‘Neat,’ thought Elaine. ‘This teacher knows what’s going on. He’d be a hard one to put anything over.’

  Mr Russell walked fast, and she trotted along next to him, trying to check out as much of the school as she could. Most of the buildings were new and modern, painted in bright, primary colours, and there were large playing areas with playground equipment—climbing apparatus and monkey bars—that made her eyes gleam. Mr Russell was asking her questions about her last school and telling her that at Kingsgate she was expected to wear a uniform. If she had any problems she was to go to the office and they would help her.

  ‘Problems!’ she thought. ‘No problems. Just Dad! How do I explain him to the office!’

  When they got to the classroom, a transportable on the edge of the oval, Mr Russell flung open the door with vigour, and a girl inside jumped like a startled rabbit.

  ‘Linda!’ he said sharply. ‘What are you doing in here?’

  She gave him a guilty smile and looked down at a piece of paper on which she had been writing. ‘Oh, nothing,’ she answered.

  ‘You know the rules, Linda. You stay outside until the siren goes.’

  ‘Sorry, Mr Russell,’ she said. She gave him another smile, not so guilty this time, more dazzling.

  Disarmed by it, Mr Russell said, ‘Well, since you’re here you can do something useful for me. You can be Elaine’s minder. Make sure she knows what to do and feels at home. There’s an empty desk in front of you, isn’t there? Where Cathy Clements used to sit? Elaine can sit there. I’ll go and get her books now.’ He tore off at a great pace towards the staffroom, leaving the two girls looking at each other.

  Neither was very impressed by what she saw. They could hardly have been more different. Elaine, skinny and pale in her jeans and jumper, looked untidy and almost wild, her dark red hair already escaping from her not very efficient plait. Linda’s blonde hair was cut in a fashionable style, and she had a certain air of being very well looked after. Her clothes were neat and new and her shoes were polished. All of her looked polished, in fact: polished and cherished. Both girls felt vaguely threatened, and their reaction to each other was guarded and hostile.

  Linda sat coolly at her desk again, and continued writing on the piece of paper, smiling to herself. Her desk was covered with little gadgets—four different self-inking stamps, a pink hedgehog pencil-holder and a little plastic chest of drawers, also pink, filled with erasers. Tiny photographs, cut from a class photo, were taped to the desk top, and an elaborately designed and coloured label announced ‘Linda Schulz sits here’. Elaine studied all these things in silence.

  Linda finished writing and folded the note. She crossed the room and placed it on top of a desk in the back row. ‘Don’t you dare tell anyone,’ she said to Elaine. ‘That was a note to Andrew Hayford. He’s my boyfriend.’ And you had better stay away from him, her tone clearly implied.

  Because she was feeling put down, Elaine sounded nastier than she meant to. ‘I couldn’t care less,’ she said. ‘I’m not interested in that stuff.’

  Linda didn’t need to say, ‘No, I don’t suppose you are.’ Her scornful look and half-smile said it for her.

  ‘Well, are you coming?’ she said. ‘I suppose I’d better show you round before the siren goes.’

  3

  Andrew reached into the back of the Volvo and took out his schoolbag. ‘See you, Mum,’ he said to Marjorie.

  ‘I’ll pick you up after school, it might be raining,’ she said.

  ‘Okay.’ He could tell by her tone of voice that she was in a good mood. It was worth a try. ‘Can I have some money?’

  ‘What happened to your allowance?’

  ‘It all went on Saturday,’ he said cheerfully.

  ‘I haven’t got any change,’ Marjorie said. ‘If I give you five dollars you’ll have to make it last.’

  ‘Five dollars will be fine! Thanks, Mum!’ Andrew swaggered into the school yard. Five dollars in his pocket made him feel as though he owned the whole school. He went to look for Ben. Ben’s parents were both teachers and he was usually at school early, hanging round the entrance waiting for Andrew, who was usually late. This morning there was no sign of him, which was annoying, because Andrew was longing to tell him about the game his father had brought from Japan. ‘I wonder if Ben’ll be able to work out Space Demons,’ he thought. ‘I won’t tell him what I’ve found out so far. I’ll see if he can get it.’

  He tracked Ben down at last, among a group of children outside the Year 7 classroom. They were watching a red-headed girl whom Andrew had never seen before, walking on her hands on the grass of the oval.

  ‘Hey, what’s going on?’ Andrew asked. Ben turned round and gave him a grin, but it was John Ferrone, standing next to him, who answered. ‘It’s the new girl, Elaine Taylor. She used to be in a circus.’

  ‘What was she, the trained chimpanzee?’ Andrew snorted. He felt vaguely irritated that anyone else should be the centre of attention. Linda Schulz heard him and laughed. She came over and stood next to him. ‘What a show-off!’ she said. ‘Her first morning at school, and look at her!’

  Ignoring Linda, Andrew pulled Ben aside. He was busy telling him about Space Demons when the siren went, and the children ran to line up.

  Elaine turned herself the right way up. She was furious with herself. She hadn’t meant to show off, but somehow it always happened. The more nervous and out of place she felt, the more she seemed to have to draw attention to herself. Linda had been so stuck up and nasty as she showed her round the school that when they got back to the oval Elaine hadn’t been able to resist the urge to show what she could do. So while Linda was in mid-sentence she had suddenly done a forward somersault in the air, without using her hands, and then a series of back flips. Other children had gathered round to watch, and she had found she couldn’t stop. Now her hands were muddy from the wet grass, and she had managed to get a smear of mud on her face.

  Mr Russell came up to his classroom and cast his eye over the waiting boys and girls, frowning slightly when he saw Elaine. He was pleased with the way things were going in his class: he felt that he and the children understood and respected each other, and that they had a good relationship. He very much hoped this new girl was not going to disrupt that.

  ‘You look rather muddy, Elaine,’ he said. ‘Linda, show Elaine where to wash her hands, please.’

  ‘He likes us to look neat,’ Linda said, as they walked towards the toilets. On their way back she said, ‘Andrew said you looked like a chimpanzee.’

  ‘Oh, did he?’ Elaine said. ‘He sounds like a pain in the neck.’

  ‘I wonder which one he is,’ she thought as they walked in through the door. The rest of the class were turning to page 88 in Mathematics and Real Life, while Mr Russell was writing on the blackboard. Most of the children stared at Elaine, and a boy in the back row made a monkey face at her by putting his tongue down behind his bottom lip and crossing his eyes. She could feel Linda next to her trying not to laugh. ‘Aha,’ thought Elaine, ‘that must be the famous Andrew. Very funny!’

  Mr Russell turned round. ‘I’d like you all to meet our new class member,’ he said. ‘This is Elaine Taylor. I hope you’ll make her feel at home at Kingsgate.’

  Elaine felt herself going pink. She wiggled her ears. Truly, she didn’t mean to, it just sometimes happened when she was embarrassed. She hoped Mr Russell hadn’t noticed. But half the class had. They stared at her in fascination, wondering if she would do it again.

  ‘You can sit down now, Elaine,’ Mr Russell said. His voice sounded rather cool.

  ‘He did notice,’ she thought. She sat down quickly, and kept her eyes firmly down, in case she did anything else stupid.

  As Mr Russell turned to write on the board again, Elaine felt something hit her on the foot. She looked down and saw a paper aeroplane on the floor. Linda, behind her, was trying to reach it with a ruler. Forgetting all her good intentions, Elaine bent down swiftly and picked it up.

  ‘Give it to me,’ Linda hissed.

  Elaine’s behaviour often surprised even herself. She knew all the unwritten rules about being new at school—act like a new person, don’t show off, let everyone boss you around—but somehow she was quite unable to keep them. So she didn’t give the aeroplane back to Linda. Instead, she opened it out, read what was on it, and gave a very realistic but perfectly silent imitation of someone being sick.

  Linda reached forward to grab at the piece of paper, and Elaine, keeping an eye on Mr Russell at the blackboard, let her take it. Mr Russell turned round at the exact moment when Linda, having recovered her precious love letter, was sitting down at her desk again.

  ‘Bring it to me, please, Linda.’

  She knew him too well to pretend or argue. Casting a glance of pure hate at Elaine, she walked up to the front of the room.

  ‘Thank you.’ Mr Russell took the paper and, without looking at it, tore it into tiny pieces. ‘Now you can throw these in the bin,’ he said to Linda. ‘I expect better behaviour from you. I am disappointed in you.’

  Linda’s face was flushed when she walked back to her desk, and her look said clearly to Elaine, ‘That was all your fault!’

  ‘Silly nit,’ Elaine thought. ‘Fancy writing all that rubbish to boys in the first place. And who flew the aeroplane? How come they didn’t get told off? I bet it was Andrew Hayford.’ She twisted round in her desk to look at him, but he was bending over his desk, apparently engrossed in his work.

  ‘Elaine!’ Mr Russell said, right in her ear, making her jump. ‘Here’s a textbook for you. I want you to work from this page. Let me know if you need any help.’

  Andrew had been working studiously at his maths problems, but after completing four of them at top speed he suddenly felt totally unable to do any more. ‘I must protect my skull,’ he thought. ‘Any more maths and it will be crushed beyond repair.’ He pulled a slip of scrap paper over and wrote on it, ‘Want to bet you can’t work out Space Demons?’ Then he passed it across to Ben. Ben put up a thumb, meaning ‘You’re on,’ and wrote ‘$1?’ on the back of Andrew’s note. Andrew shook his head and held up two fingers. Ben smiled, nodded ‘Okay’, and returned to his work.