Lina at the Games

by Sally Rippin

  ‘Go and see Teddy,’ said Jilly. ‘You mightn’t be able to for much longer.’ As soon as she said it, Jilly winced as if she wished she hadn’t.

  Alice stopped sharply. ‘You’re not talking about the war, are you? You know Teddy doesn’t believe in fighting.’

  ‘Sorry Alice, I overheard Mother talking, that’s all. Teddy’s seventeen soon, and, well . . .’

  Alice started to walk very quickly, not minding the thump of her ballet bag against the backs of her knees. ‘That’s just rubbish.’

  ‘But your father went – Papa Sir, I mean.’

  ‘Not to fight, Jilly. He’s a doctor – he went to help people, not kill them.’

  Jilly looked uncomfortable.

  ‘As if Teddy would hurt anybody,’ Alice continued. ‘And he’s too young, anyway – you can’t enlist before you’re eighteen.’

  ‘But lots of boys do and no one seems to mind,’ panted Jilly earnestly, trying to keep up. ‘My brothers did. And you know how people treat cowards round here – white feathers in the mail and whatnot.’

  ‘No. Teddy’s staying here to take care of us.’

  And though it made her heart hurt to think of Jilly milking alone, the idea of life without Teddy was so unbearable that Alice sprinted off into the twilight, hoping that if she ran fast enough, she’d leave it behind forever.

  Here’s a sneak peek at Meet Ruby

  RUBY felt trapped. The pale green walls of the classroom seemed to be closing in on her, and the warm, stuffy air was making her feel quite sleepy. If only she could run away! She glanced sideways at Brenda Walker, in the desk across the aisle. Brenda was sitting up very straight and looking interested. How could she? There wasn’t a single thing about maths that was interesting. And the very worst thing about it was Miss Fraser’s droning voice.

  Ruby tried to imagine what it would be like to be Miss Fraser. Everything about her was grey. Her grey hair was pulled back in a tight little bun, and she wore a grey skirt and a long grey cardigan and horrid thick grey stockings.

  Marjorie Mack said that Miss Fraser had once had a sweetheart: he was a soldier, and he’d died in the last year of the Great War. But Ruby didn’t believe that any body could ever have loved Miss Fraser.

  ‘Open your books, girls. We have time for some quick mental arithmetic before the bell goes. Page twenty, problem one.’

  Ruby groaned and turned to page twenty. Sixteen currant buns at a penny-ha’ penny each . . . Picking up her pencil, she began to draw a plate of buns in the margin of the page.

  ‘Perhaps you can give us the answer, Ruby Quinlan? Yes, Ruby, I’m speaking to you. Stand up, please. What is the answer to problem one?’

  Ruby stood up. Oh my hat, she thought. I should’ve known she’d ask me.

  ‘I don’t know, Miss Fraser,’ she said at last.

  ‘Well, work it out. Sixteen times one-and-a-half pennies.’

  Ruby stared at the ceiling. The answer didn’t appear there. She stared at the floor. Not there either. She stared at Brenda Walker. Brenda was scribbling something on a piece of paper, partly covering it with her hand.

  Ruby tried to read what Brenda had written. ‘Um, one pound and four shillings?’

  Miss Fraser’s lips set in a thin line.‘Good heavens, child, use your head. Would you pay one pound and four shillings for sixteen currant buns? I hope you don’t do the shopping for your family.’

  ‘Of course I don’t, Miss Fraser. Our cook does it.’

  Miss Fraser sighed. ‘Sit down,Ruby.Brenda,perhaps you can help us.’

  Brenda stood up, smoothing down her school uniform. ‘Two shillings, Miss Fraser.’

  ‘Thank you, Brenda,’ Miss Fraser said, with an approving smile. ‘Now for something a little more difficult. Hilary Mitchell? Your answer to the next question, please. If it takes three men five days to dig a ditch . . .’

  Ruby saw the startled look on Hilary’s face. As usual, Hilary had been gazing dreamily out of the window. I’ll bet she was thinking about her new little sister, Ruby thought. Baby Cecily was just three weeks old, and Hilary had promised that Ruby could meet her soon.

  Sometimes Ruby wondered what it would be like to have a sister or a brother, but most of the time she enjoyed being an only child. It meant she had Dad and Mother all to herself. Tomorrow was her birthday, and she knew they would have chosen something special for her present. Last year they’d given her a shiny blue bicycle with a wicker basket.

  At last the bell in the quadrangle rang for the end of the day’s lessons. Ruby jumped up and grabbed for her homework books, knocking her wooden pencil-case to the floor with a crash. As she bent forward to pick it up, the end of her plait dipped into her inkwell.

  ‘Gently, Ruby, gently!’ called Miss Fraser. ‘There is no fire, and our building is not about to collapse. This is a college for ladies. Let us have a little decorum, please.’

  ‘Sorry, Miss Fraser.’ Ruby stood still for the tiniest moment, tiptoed to the door, and ran.

  Ruby both loved and hated school. She couldn’t see the sense of school work. When she was about twenty she’d probably get married and go shopping and wear nice clothes, like her mother did. Why did she need to know about isosceles triangles, or the primary products of Brazil? Things like that bored her silly. But as for the school itself – the old stone buildings, the cosy library tucked away at the back of the boarding house, the Moreton Bay fig trees lining the long driveway – she loved it all, and she loved the fun she had with her friends.

  Now, as she set off down the shady drive, past the smooth green expanse of the school oval, she felt free and happy. It was Friday afternoon, and her birthday party was tomorrow! Then she heard running feet behind her, and turned to see Brenda Walker.

  Brenda caught up with her, panting. Her owlish spectacles glinted. ‘Can I walk with you?’

  ‘If you want to.’

  ‘You’ve got ink on your shirt.’

  ‘I know.’

  Ruby didn’t exactly dislike Brenda, but she didn’t like her very much either. She’d known her for most of her life because their fathers were in business together. Ruby’s father built houses, and Brenda’s father was his accountant.‘Donald Walker is a genius with money,’Dadhad once told Ruby. ‘I couldn’t possibly run the business without him.’

  Ruby knew that her father was hopeless with numbers, just as she was, and he was happy to leave the money side of things to Uncle Donald. Dad was only interested in houses. Ten years ago he’d built their house – a big California bungalow not far from Ruby’s school. It had a fishpond with a fountain in the front garden, and coloured leadlight in the windows, and an indoor lavatory. It was Ruby’s most favourite place in all the world.

  Brenda walked faster to keep up with Ruby. ‘You’re not wearing your hat,’ she said. ‘Or your gloves. You’ll get into trouble if anyone sees.’

  ‘Who cares?’ said Ruby. ‘My hat makes my head feel hot. And I’ve lost one of my gloves. I think Baxter might’ve eaten it.’

  ‘Baxter is so naughty.’ Brenda ran a few steps. ‘I wish I had a fox terrier too, or maybe a cocker spaniel. But Mama thinks dogs are too expensive to keep, with all the meat they eat.’

  ‘Baxter doesn’t eat meat. He just eats my clothes. And my books. And my shoes.’

  ‘Really?’ Brenda pushed back her spectacles, which were beginning to slide down her nose.

  ‘I’m only joking.’

  ‘Oh.’ Brenda looked relieved. ‘What are you wearing to your fancy-dress party tomorrow?’ she asked, after a pause.

  ‘It’s a secret,’ Ruby said. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’

  ‘I’m going as a rose. I really wanted to be a mermaid, though. I saw some green spangly material at Myer’s that would’ve made a good tail, but Mama thought it was too expensive.’

  I’d never choose to be a mermaid, thought Ruby. If you had a fish tail you couldn’t use your legs, could you? You’d just have to sit around. Even now she felt impatient to mov
e faster. She wanted to skip and jump and run.

  ‘Brenda, I have to go,’ she said. ‘I’ve got heaps to do. See you at my place at two o’clock tomorrow!’ She made a dash for the gate, only to be stopped by a school prefect.

  ‘Where is your hat, Ruby Quinlan? And why aren’t you wearing gloves? You know you are not to leave the school grounds improperly clothed.’

  Ruby pulled her battered straw hat from her satchel. ‘Here’s my hat. I don’t know where my gloves are.’

  ‘Final warning, Ruby Q. If I catch you without gloves again, you’ll be explaining yourself to Miss Macdonald.’

  The thought of explaining herself to her tall, elegant headmistress didn’t appeal to Ruby one bit. ‘Sorry. I’ll look for them, I promise.’ She scowled as Brenda, neatly hatted and gloved, walked past her with a smirk.

  ‘Told you,’ Brenda said.

  ‘Oh, Brenda,’ Ruby burst out. ‘Don’t you ever get sick of being right all the time?’

  5 QUESTIONS FOR PENNY MATTHEWS, AUTHOR OF THE NELLIE AND RUBY BOOKS

  How are you and Nellie similar, and how are you different?

  My first reaction on reading this question was that Nellie O’Neill and I aren’t a bit alike. Nellie has experienced unbelievable hardship, and yet she is brave and optimistic and resilient – far more so than I could ever be. And she’s passionate and hot-tempered, while I am usually fairly calm. But when I thought about it some more . . . We both believe that who you are is much more important than what you are. We both hate injustice and prejudice. We both value the love of family above everything else. We are both superstitious. And we both love animals, especially cats! So perhaps we are quite similar after all.

  If Nellie were around today, what would she do on Saturday mornings?

  In 1849 Nellie’s Saturday mornings would be like every other morning. She would get out of bed and start work at about five-thirty. She would make sure the kitchen stove was well alight, and she’d start to prepare breakfast, first making bread from the bread dough she’d set to rise the night before. So if Nellie was around today, I think she’d sleep in for as long as she could. She’d read in bed until it was time for breakfast, and she’d read some more while she was eating her muesli. (She’d be reading at least three books at once.) After that her best friend Mary Connell would come around, and they’d go off together to their Irish dancing class.

  Penny, when you sat down to start the OAG books, what was the first sentence you wrote?

  So this was South Australia! It’s hotter than a good turf fire, Nellie thought.

  What’s one thing you wish you could do really well but have always been too timid to try?

  I’ve always wished I could speak a foreign language fluently. But I wouldn’t say I was too timid to try – just too lazy! I’d be much too timid to do bungee jumping or white-water rafting, but I don’t think I’d want to do these things even if I could . . .

  Do you have one piece of advice for OAGs everywhere?

  Be true to yourself, and never give up. You just don’t know what wonderful thing might be waiting for you around the corner.

  5 QUESTIONS FOR ALISON LLOYD, AUTHOR OF THE LETTY BOOKS

  How are you and Letty similar, and how are you different?

  Letty loves lace and those gorgeous Victorian dresses because I do and I wanted to have them in the Our Australian Girl books! Letty is a younger sister, whereas I was a bossy older sister, but we are both trustworthy and responsible. Letty loves babies, more than I did when I was a kid. And she had a tougher childhood than I did.

  If Letty were around today, what would she do on Saturday mornings?

  I think she would lie in bed and her younger brothers and sisters would climb in and snuggle with her. She might sing songs with them. Later she might talk Lavinia into making cupcakes together.

  Alison, when you sat down to start the OAG books, what was the first sentence you wrote?

  ‘The coachman dumped the hope chest in the street.’ I started at the beginning.

  What’s one thing you wish you could do really well but have always been too timid to try?

  When I was a girl I always thought soccer looked like fun. But I wasn’t good at sports, I had no brothers, and there were no football teams for girls then. So I never tried. I also wish I could ride a horse properly. One day . . .

  Do you have one piece of advice for OAGs everywhere?

  Every Australian girl’s story is unique and precious. You are significant whether you’re in a book or not! As Abner says to Letty in the first book, ‘”He tells the number of the stars; He calls them all by name.” If the Lord God can tell the stars apart, he knows me too. And you.’

  5 QUESTIONS FOR DAVINA BELL, AUTHOR OF THE ALICE BOOKS

  How are you and Alice similar, and how are you different?

  Alice thinks she always has to be perfect – that it’s her job to make sure everyone and everything is okay – and that’s just what I was like when I was a little girl.

  But Alice has much more discipline that I do. If I could work as hard at my writing as she works at her dancing, I think I’d feel a lot better! Also, we both like chubby babies, homemade cakes and Dalmatians.

  If Alice were around today, what would she do on Saturday mornings?

  Ballet, of course! I think she’d have an extra-long class with Miss Lillibet (first barre work and then on pointe), and when they’d finished, Little would bring them a scrumptious morning tea.

  When you sat down to start the OAG books, what was the first sentence you wrote?

  ‘Papa Sir, why did the war make everyone so horrible? You weren’t there, you didn’t see, but it was awful.’

  I started right at the end of Book 4, so I knew where I had to end up.

  Davina, what’s one thing you wish you could do really well but have always been too timid to try?

  Stand-up comedy! And that’s not a joke!

  Do you have one piece of advice for OAGs everywhere?

  I’d give the same advice that Papa Sir gives Alice, which is this: Make beautiful art with everything that you do – how you live each day.

  It’s wonderful to have big dreams and goals and ambitions, but it’s how you do the small things in life – how you talk to people, the effort you put into the things you do – that will shape how your life turns out.

  5 QUESTIONS FOR GABRIELLE WANG, AUTHOR OF THE POPPY BOOKS

  Gabi, how are you and Poppy similar, and how are you different?

  Poppy is much braver than I would ever be. She lived in a time where you had to be brave. In the 1860’s there were not the comforts of today and there were many dangers out on the road like bushrangers. Poppy likes to ride horses and so do I. And Poppy loves her dog Fisher, like I love my dog, Hero.

  If Poppy were around today, what would she do on Saturday mornings?

  Poppy would read a book while she’s having breakfast. She’s reading Tiger in the Bush. Then she would go outside and climb a tree. The tree looks over into her best friend, Noni’s back yard. She would call out to Noni, and together they would get on their bikes and go on an all-day adventure to the beach.

  When you sat down to start your OAG books, what was the first sentence you wrote?

  I don’t remember what my first sentence was. I plotted all the Poppy books out in one sitting so it would have been something like, ‘Poppy lives at an Aboriginal mission near Echuca’. It sounds boring doesn’t it? Of course you can’t begin a novel like that. Nobody would read past the first page. It is only after a lot of research is done and some rough drafts are complete that I begin to try and make the sentences sing.

  What’s one thing you wish you could do really well but have always been too timid to try?

  Gliding. I would love to have the feeling of being completely free, soaring in the sky with only the wind to carry me. I have tried hang gliding and was really scared when I had to jump off the cliff. But I didn’t go very far and I was with a friend. I think gliding would be different
. I could be up in the clouds for hours.

  Gabi, do you have one piece of advice for OAGs everywhere?

  If you want to be really good at something you need to practise. Talent is only a small part of it. If you have a passion, then practise that passion every day.

  5 QUESTIONS FOR SHERRYL CLARK, AUTHOR OF THE ROSE BOOKS

  How are you and Rose similar, and how are you different?

  I think Rose and I are alike in that we both like to think things through and make a decision, rather than putting it off. I suspect Rose is braver than me, and she is definitely better at sport than me. We both love reading, though.

  If Rose were around today, what would she do on Saturday mornings?

  She’d be playing cricket in the summer! In the winter, I think she would be eating a large breakfast and looking forward to going to the footy.

  When you sat down to start the OAG books, what was the first sentence you wrote?

  I can’t remember! It’s lost in the drafting somewhere, but I am pretty sure it was Rose wondering what she would get for her birthday.

  Sherryl, what’s one thing you wish you could do really well but have always been too timid to try?

  I wish I could play a musical instrument, maybe the piano. I know Rose hates her piano lessons but that’s because the teacher is horrible.

  Do you have one piece of advice for OAGs everywhere?

  Be brave, stand up for what you know is right, follow your dreams.

  5 QUESTIONS FOR SOFIE LAGUNA, AUTHOR OF THE GRACE BOOKS

  How are you and Grace similar, and how are you different?

  Just like Grace, I loved horses when I was a girl. I have always found them so mysterious and beautiful and graceful. Horses remind Grace that the world is a good and magical place full of possibility and adventure. Maybe horses reminded me of the same thing when I was growing up. I am different to Grace too, though. I am outgoing, I have always loved to laugh and share things with my friends. I am confident in ways that Grace isn’t; I love to put on plays and perform and pretend to be other characters. Grace doesn’t get a chance to discover that side of her personality until she meets Hannah.