‘Hey, aren’t you supposed to be at Naira’s by now?’

  I looked out of the window and was shocked to see that it was getting dark. Time had flown!

  ‘Oh no!’ I said, jumping up. ‘I’m gonna be late!’

  I started running around the room, grabbing my PJs out of the drawer and searching for my ugg boots.

  ‘Hey, Vi,’ Dad said. ‘I’m sorry to ask on your Sunday, love, but could you help out again in the morning, please? Jemma’s staying in the city with her mum for a bit longer, and we’ve got a big group of birdwatchers coming in.’

  My heart sank. If I worked in the café, it meant I wouldn’t have as much time to find the witch costume or all the other props and costumes before rehearsal in the afternoon. But I also didn’t want to let my parents down. I knew they were both still stressed about the business.

  ‘Sure,’ I said as I finally spotted my uggs in the corner of the room. ‘No problem.’

  ‘Thanks, honey, you’re the best,’ he said, looking relieved. He peered over my shoulder. ‘What have you been doing all afternoon?’

  ‘It’s my history project,’ I said, pulling on my uggs and explaining about the diary entries. ‘And I’m going to tea-stain the pages and burn all around the edges to make them look super old.’

  ‘Can I read them?’

  ‘Sure!’ I nodded. ‘But you’ll have to wait until tomorrow. I promised the girls I’d read them out tonight.’

  He smiled then and leaned over to kiss me on the head. ‘You’re so clever,’ he said.

  I blushed and felt that warm, glowy feeling run through me. ‘Thanks, Dad.’

  ‘Make sure you get the cupcakes before you go,’ he said. ‘A big brain like yours needs sustenance!’

  Naira’s mum made us a delicious vegetarian curry, and after we’d eaten so much I thought I might burst, we went into Naira’s room to play one of our favourite board games. It’s called Articulate and always involved a lot of excited yelling. We loved it. I was just about to open the box and set it up when Zi put out her hand.

  ‘Hang on!’ she cried. ‘Violet promised she’d read out her diary entries!’

  ‘Oh yeah!’ Abbie said. ‘I wanna hear them too.’

  I looked at Mackenzie and Naira, to check that they were okay with this, and they nodded.

  ‘Yeah, us too,’ they said together.

  ‘Okay,’ I said, putting down the box and leaning over to grab my history notebook out of my backpack. ‘I’ve only written four so far. I still need to write the last two.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ Zi said. ‘Go on!’

  As soon as everyone was settled around me on Naira’s bedroom floor, I started to read.

  20 JUNE 1855

  My first day at the factory was tiring, I’ll say that much. I walked around all day and swept under the machines, and a few times the foreman told me to crawl under the machines to remove some of the fluff. Mr Roach, the man who owns everything, I think, talked to all of us this morning and told us what he expected. Then he showed us what we had to work in. It’s a really big hole, and there are all these big things making a lot of noise, and kids and adults everywhere.

  I get eighteen pence a week, which is really good. I get half an hour for lunch and my hours are from 5 am until 9 pm. Then the orphans have to clean up after everyone goes, and then we sleep in this little room until the next day. Today, I saw something really cruel. A girl got hit on her back in front of me. I didn’t see what she did, but it couldn’t have been that bad.

  I started to cry. I hope she’s okay.

  I paused to check they were all still listening, then read the final one I’d written that day, where Daisy explained how things were getting worse in the factory.

  22 JUNE 1855

  Sam is a good friend. I always try to sneak-sweep near her, but it’s not very easy with the foreman around. Today, while I was working, I vomited all over the floor and the foreman was really mad. He hit me over the head and it really hurt, so I started to cry. Sam comforted me, but then she got hit too. I don’t know why I vomited because I was feeling fine afterwards. There was an explosion today too, right near me. I was so scared.

  At lunchtime, Sam told me that she wants to get a good education like the rich kids and then be a teacher to the poor kids. I hope she does. The factory is a pretty exciting place, but I don’t like getting hit.

  ‘That’s all I’ve done so far, but . . .’

  I stopped when I noticed them all staring at me with wide eyes.

  ‘Um . . . you didn’t like it?’ I asked nervously. ‘It’s amazing,’ Mackenzie said softly. ‘Just so sad.’

  ‘SO sad,’ Abbie agreed.

  ‘It was the way you read them too,’ Naira said. ‘It was like you really WERE Daisy, and that made it even sadder.’

  ‘How do you write like that?’ Zi said, throwing her hands up. ‘You’re so smart!’

  ‘Aw, thanks, guys,’ I said, blushing a bit. ‘That’s so nice of you all.’

  ‘It’s true!’ Mackenzie said.

  ‘Um, okay,’ I said. It was nice to hear my friends say such great things about my writing, but it was also really embarrassing. I needed to change the subject ASAP.

  ‘Who wants to play Articulate now?’ I asked.

  ‘Me!’ Abbie said, leaning over to grab the box.

  ‘And maybe a comedy movie after that,’ Naira added. ‘Anything to stop me thinking about poor little Daisy!’

  fourteen

  ‘BIRDWATCHING MUST BUILD QUITE THE APPETITE,’ Mum whispered. ‘They’ve nearly cleaned us out!’

  ‘I know.’ I giggled. ‘Who knew?’

  It was early Sunday morning, and Mum and I were standing behind the counter in the café, looking out at the large group of people whose plates were piled high with toast, bacon, eggs, tomatoes and mushrooms. The birdwatchers were all dressed alike in beanies or wide-brimmed hats, khaki or brown pants and shirts, raincoats and hiking boots. Basically, my idea of a fashion nightmare. I wouldn’t be caught dead in khaki or brown, and I couldn’t imagine anything more boring than looking for birds all day. But the birdwatching people were super nice and very chatty. I’d had a fun morning serving them all, even though I was pretty tired from the sleepover the night before, and they loved talking about kookaburras, wedge-tailed eagles, king parrots and loads of other birds I’d never heard of. I even wrote down snippets of their conversations in case I wanted to use them in a script one day.

  The big group stayed at the café for ages, so it was almost lunchtime by the time I finished up. I was about to head back to the house to start organising all the props and costumes, when Naira and Abbie came into the café and talked me into going for a walk along the beach.

  ‘Okay, but only for half an hour,’ I said. ‘I’ve gotta do stuff for the talent show.’

  ‘Can we help?’ Abbie asked.

  ‘No, that’s okay,’ I said. ‘I can do it.’

  I appreciated the offer, but I was the director, so it was my responsibility, not theirs. Besides, they were already doing me a huge favour by being in the show, and I knew they had Sleepover BFFs business stuff and the history project to do.

  The three of us chatted all the way down the hill, but as we got near the bottom, Abbie suddenly stopped and frowned.

  ‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘Look.’ Abbie nodded.

  We followed Abbie’s hard stare to the grass near the surf club, where Yasmin, Piper and two of their friends were doing some kind of choreographed dance.

  ‘So, that’s what they’re doing for the talent show,’ I said.

  Just then, Yasmin and Piper turned around to smirk in our direction.

  ‘Amazing stuff!’ I called out, giving them a slow clap. ‘Beyoncé better watch herself!’

  Yasmin and Piper glared, and Abbie and Naira snorted.

  ‘They’re furious.’ Naira giggled.

  ‘I know,’ I shrugged, still waving and smiling, ‘but I had an urge.’ I knew I was stirring, and probably making things even tenser than they already were, but I didn’t care.

  When I got home, I spent a bit of time hunting around for the witch costume, which I found right at the back of our shed in a box. Then I dug out the rest of the props and costumes for the show, and gathered up the materials I needed to make the campfire and lanterns. By then it was dinnertime, and I still had to make everything.

  ‘Careful,’ Dad said, watching me shovel the pesto pasta into my mouth at the speed of light. ‘You’re gonna inhale that fork in a minute.’

  ‘Sshhoorry,’ I mumbled with my mouth full.

  Mum raised her eyebrows at me. ‘I’m sure there was an English word in there.’

  I swallowed. ‘Sorry, but I’ve got a lot to do,’ I said. ‘I have to make props for the talent show.’

  ‘Okay, but don’t stay up too late,’ Mum said. ‘You had an early morning, and you’ve got school tomorrow.’

  I nodded, shovelled the last forkful of pasta into my mouth, ran to the sink to wash my bowl and raced out of the kitchen. I could hear Mum and Dad chuckling as I hurried down the hallway.

  fifteen

  ‘WOW,’ NAIRA SAID THE NEXT AFTERNOON AFTER school, leaning over to touch the cardboard campfire. ‘The cellophane flames look so good.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said.

  ‘The lanterns are awesome too,’ Mackenzie said, picking one up to inspect it. ‘When did you make these?’

  ‘Last night,’ I said.

  ‘Craft Queen!’ Abbie cried.

  Despite my promise to Mum, I’d ended up staying awake later than I should have to finish them, so I was relieved that the girls liked what I’d done. I also gave everyone their props and a couple of costume bits and pieces, like backpacks, hats and hiking sticks (Zi insisted on having those). And now that the stools and the campfire were set up too, it was starting to look and feel like a real show.

  ‘How did everyone go learning the script?’ I asked once everyone was propped, costumed and in their positions. ‘Besides Mac, who knows all her old lines AND her new ones.’

  ‘SUCH a show-off,’ Zi said playfully.

  ‘Great,’ Naira said.

  ‘Yep, I’m all over them.’ Abbie nodded.

  ‘Zi?’ I asked.

  ‘Yeah, pretty much,’ she said, looking a bit sheepish.

  ‘Hmm,’ I said, raising an eyebrow at her. ‘Well, let’s go from your line about the screaming and running away. That’s where we got to with the blocking on Friday, so we’ll see how you go. ACTION!’

  ZI: You know what I hate in horror movies? When someone screams while they’re running away. Have you ever tried screaming and running? It’s not easy.

  VIOLET: How about when someone is being chased in a house and they run upstairs instead of out the back door?

  ZI: So annoying!

  NAIRA: What about the ones who trip and fall for no obvious reason and can’t get back up when the villain is coming towards them?

  ALL: Yeah!

  MAC: And then, if they are running and the villain is just walking, the evil dude can always keep up for some reason!

  ABBIE: It really annoys me when cars won’t start until the villain has smashed the window with his axe.

  MAC: And why do they always go into the basement? That’s, like, horror survival rule number one: never go into the creepy basement!

  ABBIE: Well, technically, basements are the most structurally sound part of a house during a storm.

  VIOLET: Yeah, right, because structural integrity is what you worry about when a psycho is chasing you.

  MAC: Okay, I think we should stop talking about horror movies now! We’re freaking ourselves out.

  ZI: Maybe we should split up into groups and go find the adults.

  NAIRA: No way! It never goes well for groups that split up in horror movies.

  There was a huge pause. We all turned to Zi.

  ‘Oh, is it me?’ she said, looking stressed. ‘Um . . . sorry . . . um . . .’

  I smiled and leaned over to grab a script out of my bag.

  ‘It’s fine,’ I said. ‘Here, just read off it for today, but promise you’ll learn them for Wednesday’s rehearsal.’

  Zi held up a hand. ‘Scout’s honour.’

  sixteen

  ‘HOW’S IT GOING?’ BILL ASKED WHEN I WENT TO HIS office to give him the key after rehearsal.

  ‘Awesome!’ I said. ‘So much fun.’

  ‘That’s what I like to hear.’ He grinned. ‘Everyone’s getting excited for the show now.’

  ‘Oh yeah,’ I said. ‘Right.’

  I’d been so busy thinking about what we were doing that I’d almost forgotten other people would be performing on the night as well. I was suddenly desperate to know if there was a similar act to ours.

  ‘Have any extra acts signed up?’ I asked, hoping I didn’t sound as nosy as I felt.

  ‘Yeah, a couple of different ones to add to the dances, songs and stand-up comedy,’ Bill replied. ‘It’s gonna be a good night.’ He grinned. ‘You’ll have some stiff competition, Violet.’

  Hearing this only made me more determined to do our best on Saturday night. I knew the main thing with stuff like this was to have fun, but it would be nice to win too.

  As I walked towards home, I spotted Zi sitting inside our café. She had an open folder in front of her and was staring out of the window with a worried look on her face. I went in to see if she was okay.

  ‘Hey,’ I said, walking up behind her.

  When Zi turned around, I was horrified to see tears in her eyes. Zi NEVER cried.

  I sat down and put my arm around her. ‘What’s wrong, Zi?’

  ‘It’s nothing,’ she said, glancing down at the empty page in front of her.

  ‘Zi, tell me,’ I said gently. ‘Please?’

  ‘It’s this stupid history project,’ Zi said, swiping at her wet eyes. ‘I have no idea what to write. I’m not creative like you or my mum.’

  ‘Of course you are,’ I scoffed. ‘Everyone is creative.’

  Zi shook her head. ‘I’m not. And I’ve never kept a diary, so how am I supposed to know what to write?’

  I suddenly remembered that it was Zi who’d suggested we work on the project together this week. Also, she’d been asking us all week what we were doing for it. Our friend had needed our help, but I’d been so busy with my own stuff that I hadn’t even noticed. I suddenly felt terrible. I was a bad friend for not realising she was struggling with this. And I could understand Zi comparing herself to her mum because she was a kids’ book illustrator, and me because I loved writing and acting. But just because Zi didn’t do creative stuff very often didn’t mean she couldn’t be good at it.

  ‘I’ll help you,’ I said.

  ‘No, Vi,’ she said. ‘You’re super busy.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ I snorted. ‘Now, didn’t you say you wanted your kid to be a worker in a machine factory?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Okay, so imagine you’ve just had a really busy day at school,’ I said, ‘and then you went for a surf as soon as you got home. What would you say if I asked how you felt at the end of a day like that?’

  ‘Um, maybe that I was feeling tired?’

  ‘Perfect,’ I said. ‘Let’s start there.’

  Zi grinned and picked up her pen.

  By the time Zi left the café an hour later, she’d written three diary entries, and was feeling much happier and more confident.

  ‘Thank you so much, Vi,’ she said, giving me a huge hug. ‘There’s no way I could have done this without you.’

  ‘Of course you could have,’ I said firmly. ‘I don’t want to hear any more ridiculous talk about you not being creative, okay?’

  I’d planned to write my own final diary entries when I got home, but was too tired to even pick up my pen after dinner and a shower.

  I’ll do it tomorrow afternoon, I told myself. It isn’t due for two more days.

  Just as I was getting ready for bed, Mum came into my room.

  ‘Hey, Vi,’ she said. ‘I’m so sorry for the late notice, but Jemma is still in the city with her mum, and we’ve just found out there’s another big group coming in for breakfast at 6.30 am tomorrow.’

  ‘Um, okay,’ I said. ‘What time would I have to get up?’

  Mum made a face. ‘Around 5.30 am.’

  What?! That was brutal!

  ‘I’m so sorry, darling,’ Mum said, sitting on the bed next to me. ‘Jemma should be back on Wednesday, so this is the last time we’ll ask you to help out so early.

  I promise.’

  I could hear the stress in her voice, so I nodded. ‘Yeah, of course, Mum.’

  Mum smiled and leaned over to give me a hug. ‘Thank you, love,’ she said. ‘Hey, tell me, how are the rehearsals going?’

  ‘Yeah, good.’ I smiled. ‘Everyone’s doing an awesome job.’

  ‘Fantastic,’ Mum said. ‘Dad and I can’t wait to see it on Saturday night.’

  ‘I hope you like it,’ I said.

  ‘We’ll love it,’ she said. ‘Goodnight, and don’t stay up too late. You’ve got an early one tomorrow.’

  seventeen

  EARLY WAS RIGHT. I NEARLY BURST INTO TEARS WHEN my alarm went off the next morning. All I wanted to do was roll right over and go back to sleep. Instead, I dragged myself out of bed and zombie-walked into the bathroom.

  Twenty minutes later, I was standing behind the counter, staring at the scene before me in total horror. Teenage boys. Everywhere I looked. Big, loud, rowdy teenage boys. Not exactly the Tuesday morning I had in mind.

  I turned and walked back into the kitchen and over to Dad, who was cooking dozens of eggs and strips of bacon.

  ‘Um, Dad? What’s going on out there?’

  ‘Pirates footy club breakfast,’ Dad said, cracking another egg onto the griddle. ‘Didn’t Mum tell you?’

  The Pirates! My chest tightened. That meant . . .

  I peered through the hatch, and sure enough, there was Christos Sammut, sitting with his coach, Ken, and a bunch of other guys at the big blue table in the corner. Horror filled me.

 

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