The January Stars

by Kate Constable

  ‘Huh,’ said Alex. ‘So you can. I should look out here more often.’

  Clancy’s heart filled with warmth as she gazed at the pale circle of the moon, hovering above the shining towers. Nan was still travelling with them. And what about Antonia?

  Clancy wasn’t sure if she’d just been lost and unable to find her way back to the arcade, or if The Magpie Bookshop was really gone. Then Antonia might have been inside her own little bubble of time, with her own phases of the moon, some time in the past before the arcade was knocked down. Clancy remembered that years-old newspaper in the back room. Perhaps it had been a time-slip alley after all … Now that really would be magic …

  Well, whichever it is, thank you, Antonia. Thank you, Nan. She patted her pockets and the envelope of photos crinkled reassuringly under her hand.

  ‘See you,’ Alex called mournfully down the corridor as Tash trundled Pa back toward the lift.

  ‘Bye!’ Clancy called back.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp?’ asked Pa as the lift descended.

  Tash said firmly, ‘Food.’

  It was practically lunch by the time they finally ate: fancy toast, pastries and coffee at a café busy with office workers. This time Tash managed to extract some money from Pa’s stash of cash without attracting anyone’s attention, but Clancy was still relieved when they made it out onto the street again without any awkward questions being asked.

  ‘We can catch a train to Quoll Creek,’ said Tash.

  ‘Are you sure?’ said Clancy.

  ‘Of course! Easy!’

  Tash and Clancy pushed Pa all the way back the way they’d come, up and down the same steep hills to Flinders Street station where they’d arrived the day before from Rosella – it felt like weeks ago now, not a single day.

  Clancy waited with Pa in a sheltered corner outside the gates while Tash went to find out the platform for the Quoll Creek train. She was gone for a long time.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp?’ asked Pa.

  ‘She’ll be back in a minute,’ said Clancy; but she eyed the big clock nervously as the minutes ticked past. What if there was only one train today, and they’d missed it? What was Tash doing?

  At last her sister reappeared, flushed in the face. Without speaking, she bent to snap Pa’s brakes off, and spun the wheelchair so savagely that Pa protested.

  ‘What’s happening? Where are you going?’ Clancy trotted after them in alarm as Tash thrust the chair along the concourse.

  ‘Country trains leave from a different station,’ said Tash shortly.

  ‘What station?’

  ‘Back there. The one we walked past on the way here.’

  ‘So we have to walk all the way back?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Bugger!’ said Pa, when he understood what was happening.

  Clancy had to jog to keep up. ‘So – we’re still going, though?’

  ‘Of course! Why wouldn’t we?’

  Clancy fell back, realising that Tash was not just furious, she was also embarrassed. How could she have made a mistake like that? Tash never made mistakes. Clancy was used to her older sister knowing everything about everything. No wonder Tash felt humiliated.

  Clancy guessed that now would not be a good time to remind Tash about her blisters. Or to ask if they could have caught a train to the other station, instead of walking all the way.

  Pa let out a sudden shout.

  ‘What now?’ Tash was so cross, she even snapped at Pa. ‘You can’t need the toilet again, you’ve only just gone.’

  Pa’s arm shot up and Clancy and Tash tipped back their heads to look.

  ‘I can’t see anything,’ grumbled Tash.

  ‘Sp! Sp!’ Pa’s hand traced a path above their heads.

  High in the cloudless sky, wheeling level with the tower-tops, a hawk soared above the city. Far above the dust and noise, riding on the currents, a silent visitor from another time, a time before cities and skyscrapers and cars, a time of endless plains and boundless forests. The hawk banked, and slid out of sight.

  Clancy let out a long breath she hadn’t realised she was holding. She was fairly sure that the hawk hadn’t been sent by Nan; but it still felt like a good omen, a blessing.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp,’ Pa reminded Tash.

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ Tash turned to Clancy. ‘Pa showed me this article the other day about peregrine falcons nesting in the city. On a window ledge, on the thirty-fifth floor. I guess to them, it’s the same as a cliff.’

  ‘Wow, that’s so cool.’

  Clancy hugged the image of that hawk inside herself as they trudged on. It was so proud, so free and wild and strong, riding on the back of the wind. If Tash was a bird, she would probably be a hawk. And what kind of bird would Clancy herself be? Probably a puffin, she decided gloomily. No one could take a puffin seriously, waddling around with their ridiculous big feet and noses. Yes, Clancy was sure she’d be a puffin.

  And Pa? Perhaps a seagull, with snowy white feathers, a harsh call, and a broken wing … And Nan would have to be a shearwater, swooping alone above the ocean all day, but cruising in to the shore at nightfall to check on her family …

  Lost in her thoughts, Clancy bumped into Tash’s back as she and Pa halted at the traffic lights. ‘Watch it!’

  ‘Sorry—’ Clancy gaped as they crossed the road, noticing the name of the railway station on the huge sign spanning the concourse. ‘Tash! Look! It’s called Southern Cross!’

  ‘Yeah, so?’

  ‘It’s the name of a constellation. Stars! Don’t you get it? It’s Nan again. It’s a sign from Nan.’

  ‘It’s just the name of the station,’ said Tash. ‘It’s been the name of this station for years and years. Nothing to do with Nan.’

  But Clancy was content. She knew they were on the right path again.

  The enormous, drafty cavern of the station had a high, wavy roof like frozen surf. It smelled of diesel and echoed with the roar of engines, the squeal of brakes, and muffled announcements that managed to be noisy and incomprehensible at the same time. Pa rubbed the dust from his watering eyes.

  ‘Can I have a drink?’ said Clancy. ‘And I still need Band-Aids for my blisters. I’ve got them on both feet now.’

  ‘You’re not the only one in pain,’ said Tash. ‘My arm muscles are killing me.’ She pulled some coins from her pocket and pointed. ‘There’s a vending machine. You get us all some drinks while I find out about the train.’

  ‘What if there isn’t one? What if we’ve missed it?’

  Tash threw her an exasperated look. ‘You are so defeatist. At least let me check. You can get me an apple juice.’

  Clancy hung back. ‘Can’t you do it?’

  ‘Do I have to do everything?’

  But Tash stomped off to buy the drinks, thrust two bottles into Clancy’s hands, and then marched off to investigate the train situation.

  There was nowhere to sit down.

  ‘You’re lucky, Pa – at least you’ve got your own chair.’

  ‘Sp-sp,’ he agreed smugly.

  Clancy eyed the concrete floor but decided it was too dirty to sit on. Anyway, someone would tell her off, maybe throw them out of the station, maybe report them to the police. She’d almost forgotten that the police were hunting for them … Glancing around warily, she spied a pair of uniformed officers strolling down the stairs from the upper level. With a gasp, she hastily wheeled Pa behind an advertising billboard.

  ‘Sp-sp!’ said Pa indignantly; he’d spilled his drink down his shirt.

  ‘Sorry, sorry,’ whispered Clancy, peeping out. ‘It’s okay – they’re gone.’

  Suddenly she felt super self-conscious. If she and Tash had been on their own, they could have blended in with the crowds easily. But two teenage girls with an old man in a wheelchair? Not so much.

  ‘Hello there, sir. Everything okay?’

  Clancy jumped. She had been so busy looking out for the police that she hadn’t seen the two security officers approaching from the other direction.

/>   ‘Sp-sp-sp?’ Pa looked from the officers to Clancy and back again.

  ‘Sorry, sir. Didn’t quite catch that?’

  Clancy clutched the handles tightly and tried to hide behind the wheelchair.

  ‘Sp-sp-sp!’ Pa pointed at Clancy.

  The officer looked at her. ‘Is he okay?’

  ‘Yes,’ whispered Clancy. ‘He can’t – he had a stroke. He can’t talk.’

  ‘Oh, right. Sorry to hear that. Everything okay with you guys? You looked like you were hiding from someone, tucked away behind here.’

  The officer was smiling amiably, but Clancy had the feeling the question was serious. She nodded vigorously, and looked around in desperation for Tash. Why hadn’t she come back?

  ‘So—’ said the officer, after a pause. ‘Yes, you’re hiding? Or yes, you’re okay?’

  ‘We’re okay.’ Clancy tried to speak more loudly.

  ‘You waiting for someone? Is an adult with you?’

  ‘My sister’s coming back in a minute,’ said Clancy.

  ‘Mind if we have a quick word with her?’

  ‘Here she is!’ cried Clancy in relief.

  Tash walked up, scowling. ‘What’s going on? Everything okay?’

  ‘Just what we were wondering,’ said the officer. ‘You’re the sister, are you?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘You waiting to meet someone? Or going somewhere?’

  ‘Sorry,’ said Tash, ‘have we done anything wrong? Are we breaking some law by standing here? Because I don’t think it’s really any of your business what we do with our grandfather.’

  ‘He’s your granddad, is he?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sp-sp-sp!’ said Pa.

  ‘Okay,’ said the officer. ‘No need to get excited. Got any ID I could take a look at, sir?’

  ‘You know what?’ said Tash. ‘We’ve got a train to catch. We haven’t really got time for this.’

  ‘So you are going somewhere?’

  ‘We’re going to visit our aunt,’ whispered Clancy.

  ‘We’ve got tickets. Look.’ Tash brandished three tickets then shoved them back in her pocket. ‘Happy now?’

  ‘Hey,’ said the officer. ‘Let’s keep it polite, okay? How about that ID?’

  ‘We haven’t got any,’ said Tash.

  ‘Driver’s licence? Pension card? Nothing?’

  ‘He lives in an old people’s home. He doesn’t need any of that.’

  ‘He’s like the Queen,’ said Clancy.

  They all turned to stare at her as if she were crazy.

  ‘The Queen doesn’t have a driver’s licence either,’ said Clancy feebly.

  ‘We’re going to miss our train,’ said Tash, elbowing her sister aside to grasp the handles of the wheelchair. ‘So unless you’ve got an actual reason to keep us here …’

  Reluctantly the officers stood aside to let them pass. Clancy glanced back fearfully as Tash pushed Pa along the concourse, and saw one of them talking into a radio clipped to his jacket.

  ‘I think they’re checking on us, Tash. Maybe the police are telling them that we’re wanted for kidnapping, and breaking and entering, and assault with a wheelchair. Maybe they’re going to come after us—’ Clancy squealed. ‘They’re walking this way, Tash!’

  Tash swore, and broke into a trot, trundling Pa faster and faster along the concourse. ‘This platform – quick, this is our train.’

  Clancy dragged open the door and Tash manoeuvred Pa inside with a thump. ‘Are they coming? Did they see us?’

  Clancy leaned out. She couldn’t see the security officers on the platform, but maybe that meant they’d already climbed on board the train. Anxiously she peered through the glass doors into the next carriage. There was no sign of the officers there either, but Clancy didn’t feel safe to sit down and relax until the train lurched forward, then began to glide out of the station, slowly at first but then picking up speed, heading west.

  The air-conditioned train was so chilly that Tash pulled her hoodie out of her backpack and put it on. She parked Pa in the space reserved for bicycles, prams and wheelchairs. He shifted fretfully in his seat and complained, ‘Sp-sp-sp.’

  ‘A drink? The toilet? Are you cold?’

  ‘He doesn’t have a cardigan or anything,’ worried Clancy.

  Pa shook his head impatiently. ‘Nah, nah.’ He sniffed his armpit and grimaced.

  ‘You are getting a bit stinky,’ agreed Tash. ‘When we get to Bee’s place, she can wash your shirt.’

  Clancy glanced down at her own grubby T-shirt. ‘Chuck in our stuff while she’s at it.’

  ‘Speak for yourself.’ Tash pulled a deodorant from her bag and flourished it smugly. ‘Some of us are still quite fragrant, thank you.’

  That reminded Clancy of Nan’s perfume, and she sniffed hopefully. But there was no scent of lily-of-the-valley. Tash snapped, ‘For God’s sake, blow your nose!’

  Clancy stopped sniffing and turned her attention to the view through the window as the suburbs rolled past, with abandoned factories and half-built apartment blocks, rows of hundred-year-old terrace cottages and the feathery treetops of hidden parks. A golden pagoda appeared on the horizon, its roof dazzling in the midday sun. ‘Wow, what’s that?’

  ‘A temple, I guess. I could look it up if I had my phone.’

  Clancy couldn’t think of anything witty to say. How did Tash always manage to pull out a perfect put-down? Instead, Clancy poked out her tongue.

  ‘Mature,’ said Tash. ‘Impressive.’

  The temple slid out of sight and the train crossed a wide, sleepy river. The factories and houses slipped away, and before long the train was racing though flat yellow paddocks dotted with black and white cows and sprinkled with sheep. Here and there a dead tree stood out against the sky like a majestic sculpture.

  Tash gave her sister a nudge. ‘Pa’s asleep.’

  Pa’s head drooped on his chest, and his eyes were closed. His scalp, pink from the sun, showed through his feathery white hair like the skin of a baby mouse. His chair rocked gently with the swaying of the train.

  ‘Tash?’ murmured Clancy. ‘You know how everyone’s after us … do you think we should take him back?’

  ‘To The Elms? No way!’ whispered Tash fiercely. ‘If we take him back there, I think he’ll die. Like a bird in captivity.’

  ‘Literally die?’ Clancy was shocked.

  ‘We’re taking him to Bee’s. We promised. We can’t turn round now.’

  Clancy swallowed. ‘I wish Mum and Dad were here.’

  ‘Well, they’re not,’ snapped Tash. ‘We have to do it ourselves. There’s just us.’

  And Nan, thought Clancy. But unless you counted the name of the station, there hadn’t been much sign of Nan’s guidance this morning. Even the daytime moon had disappeared.

  Clancy stared down at the floor, and a lump rose in her throat. Then, unexpectedly, Tash put an arm around her shoulders and squeezed. Tash didn’t do hugs, except on the footy field. Clancy was so surprised she nearly fell off her seat.

  ‘We’ll be all right, peanut,’ said Tash gruffly. ‘But don’t cry.’

  Clancy rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand, and swallowed. ‘Okay,’ she said in a small voice.

  ‘Do you want your book?’

  ‘Yes, please.’

  The books were definitely real, thought Clancy, as she turned hers over in her hands. So maybe the arcade was still there. Otherwise, time travel was the only possible explanation. If the bookshop had gone, where was Antonia now? Clancy hoped she was strolling along a beach somewhere with her friend Verity. And was Antonia the one who’d worked the magic, or Nan? If it was magic. Clancy would never know …

  She sighed, and opened her book. Soon she was lost in the Aboriginal stories of the stars: the seven sisters being chased across the Western Desert before escaping into the sky as the Pleiades; the Yolngu story about three brothers fishing from their canoe, more familiar to Clancy as the stars of Orion; about
the emu in the sky, a constellation of dark spaces spread out across the bright backdrop of the Milky Way in Gomeroi country; and Barnumbirr, the Morning Star, who rises before dawn, drawing behind her a rope of light along which Yolngu people are able to communicate with their ancestors. Clancy’s heart skipped a beat. Carefully she read the story again. Was Nan’s spirit using that rope of light to send messages to her?

  Clancy wasn’t a fan of ghost stories; she’d always been terrified of the idea of lurking malevolent presences in the night. Ghosts were supposed to be transparent, or dressed in white, and they were meant to glide silently down dark corridors and make the air turn cold. They weren’t supposed to laugh gently and leave star clues and smell like lily-of-the-valley.

  But maybe Australian ghosts were different. Maybe Nan was different. The thought of Nan’s spirit hovering nearby was comforting, not frightening. Even if Clancy couldn’t see her, she liked to think she was still there … the way the light of a star was still there, behind the sun’s light …

  Clancy drowsed, rocked by the rhythm of the train, her forehead resting against the glass. She woke with a start at the sound of Pa’s low, grumbling voice as he fidgeted in his chair. Tash’s head was nodding, her eyes were shut. A shot of panic jolted through Clancy: what if they’d missed Quoll Creek? What if they’d travelled straight across the desert, all the way to Perth? Nan wouldn’t let us do that, she thought. She’d wake me up in time. Her panic subsided.

  ‘Plan B,’ she murmured, and chuckled to herself.

  ‘What?’ Tash’s eyes flicked open. ‘Did you say something? Are we there?’

  Clancy shook her head. ‘Plan B. That was all. This is Plan B. Bee for Beatrice.’

  ‘That’s not bad, peanut,’ said Tash.

  Clancy glowed. ‘Thanks.’

  The yellow paddocks were behind them now, and the train was rushing through wooded hills, crossing narrow creeks and rushing past grey-green trees. Clancy could see holes dug into in the hillside, overgrown with brambles and bush. Alex had said this was gold rush country. Perhaps there were caves and tunnels still out there, hiding secret veins of gold in the darkness, like Pa’s treasure had been hidden under the Rosella house. Perhaps Bee had found gold. A gigantic nugget, big enough to pay for a whole farm with lambs and chickens and kittens, and a full-time nurse for Pa …