"The
Place"

 

 

Graeme Chapman

 

 

 

 

Published by the author
Melbourne
2000

Copyright © 2002

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be
reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in
any form by any means; electronic, mechanical,
photocopying, recording or otherwise without permission.

Enquiries should be addressed to the author.
g.chapman@minerva.com.au

 

 

Chapman, Graeme.
"The Place"
A Story for Lauren

ISBN No 0 9585346 7 5

 

 

 

 

Published and printed in Australia by the author
Melbourne 2002

Chapter 1

      Cindy Hardacre was sitting at a table with three other girls. Two of them were speaking to each other in whispers. They kept their hands in front of their mouths. She did not know whether they were talking about her, but suspected they were. The other girl, who was seated on her left, was looking over her shoulder at a striking, dark-haired girl, who was surrounded by admiring friends on the opposite side of the room. This girl had a malicious look in her eyes. It was as if she regarded Cindy as a possible rival, and had already determined, on the first school day of the new year, that she would remain Queen Bee. Cindy was right. Lisa Carbonelli had made up her mind to keep the new girl in her place.

      This was Cindy's first day at her new school. This year would be her second last year in primary school. She was 11. It was less than three weeks ago that Cindy and her mother, Elsa Hardacre, shifted into the small New South Wales Country town of Yarranduck. It was the third shift they had made in the last five years.

      When Cindy's parents died, shortly after she was born, Brian and Elsa Hardacre adopted her. Though Elsa explained to Cindy, when she was old enough to understand, that she was adopted, she was never told anything about her real parents. Whenever she raised the subject, Elsa and Brian appeared embarrassed, and quickly distracted her attention. The desire to know who her real parents were grew. It was only natural that she would want to know. When she was old enough, Cindy would search for information about her parents. It was a secret passion.

      Brian Hardacre, Cindy's adoptive father, whom she loved very deeply, died over five years ago in a motorcycle accident. A drunken driver knocked him off his motor bike. He was rushed to hospital, but died several days later.

      Elsa Hardacre had been bright and bubbly. Cindy felt secure with her adoptive parents. When Brian died Elsa changed. [5] She lost her confidence. Occasionally, when Cindy arrived home from school, she found Elsa crying in her bedroom. Her mother continued with normal household tasks, but was no longer the person she had been. She was distant, distracted.

      After Brian's death, Elsa and Cindy moved from the suburbs of Sydney to a small country town. Elsa wanted to escape painful memories and start again. This hadn't worked. They continued moving, in the hope that a new country town would make the difference. This shift, to Yarranduck, was the latest in a series of moves.

      Changing schools had not been easy for Cindy. The children, in the succession of schools she attended, had known each other for years. As a newcomer, Cindy was regarded with suspicion. She was sometimes seen as a threat, particularly by the popular girls. "In groups" can be nasty to those they exclude. Cindy did not understand why this often happened to her, but she became expert at reading others' intentions. Changing schools often, and finding herself the outsider, made Cindy feel lonely. She knew what it was like to be isolated.

      Sitting at the table, to which she had been taken this morning by the teacher, Cindy felt the eyes of the other children on her. She knew some were whispering about her. Others were signaling to each other with their eyes. Her mind was distracted that he did not hear the teacher speak to her. Miss Blumenthal called her name a second time.

      "Cindy!"

      Cindy looked up and saw the teacher, several feet from her desk, smiling down at her.

      "We would like to welcome you to the class", Miss Blumenthal began. "Make sure you come and ask me about anything you need to know. You will probably find that we do some things differently from your old school. It will take time for you to understand the way we do things here."

      After she had spoken to Cindy, the teacher looked around the class, and began, "You must make her welcome. Cindy is starting a new school today, which is always difficult. She [6] probably does not know anybody in Yarranduck. Cindy has come to us from Wallget, and I want you to make sure she feels at home."

      Cindy was a little embarrassed by the attention she was receiving. She kept her eyes on the table in front of her. She also wondered how the others would treat her. She sensed that the girl with the dark hair and intense eyes, on the other side of the room, might be planning to make life difficult for her. It was a feeling she had.

      The teacher stood at the front of the room before a big whiteboard. She wanted to see whether the children had done their homework. They had been asked to look up the meaning of a list of words. They were also expected to know how to spell them.

      The teacher began with the easy words. Hands shot up all around the room. When she came to the more difficult ones, there were fewer hands in the air. Finally, she asked whether any of the children knew what "perceiving" meant. Automatically, without thinking about what she was doing, Cindy raised her hand.

      "Yes, Cindy?"

      "P-e-r-c-e-i-v-e", Cindy responded.

      "Do you know what the word means?", Miss Blumenthal asked.

      "It means 'to see'", Cindy replied.

      "Very good! That is a very difficult word. Did you learn this word at your last school?

      "No. I found it in a book I was reading, and asked my mother what it meant. She told me to go to the dictionary and look it up."

      "Your mother has been teaching you good habits. You must enjoy reading?"

      The teacher, turning to the class, began, "We can all learn from what Cindy has done. If you find a word you don't understand, go to the dictionary and look it up."

      The teacher then turned to the white board, on which she had written several maths problems. She showed the class how to [7] solve them, and left the students to work out the answers for themselves. They were to work together on the problems at their tables. She told them not to wander about the room, unless they had permission.

      Most children worked away quietly on their own. Some were having difficulty, and asked others to help them.

      One of the girls at Cindy's table lifted her hands in the air, and rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, indicating she needed help. Cindy, with her legs under her on her chair, leaned towards her and began to explain, in simple steps, what she needed to do. Cindy loved Maths. It was a game to her.

      After she helped her table-mate to understand how to work the problem out, she asked her, "What is your name?"

      "Sue. Sue Lambton," the girl responded, "I hate Maths! I can't follow the teacher's explanations."

      "It is not so difficult once you understand what it is all about", Cindy responded, gently.

      "Thank you for helping me, Cindy", Sue said, looking up into Cindy face.

      Sue, who had little confidence in herself, warmed to Cindy. She did not find it easy making friends.

      Cindy was half standing, and leading over the table, explaining something to Sue. Suddenly, she found herself knocked off balance. She fell forward onto the table. She looked up to see what had happened, and found himself looking into the hate-filled eyes of Lisa Carbonelli. The next thing Cindy heard was the teacher's voice.

      "Lisa, what are you doing over that side of the room. You should remain at your table."

      "I needed to get another pencil from my school bag."

      "You should have asked me before moving across the room. I said that you were to stay at your table. Return to your table and I will lend you a pencil."

      Having spoken to Lisa, the teacher walked to one of the tables where children were having difficulty with the maths problems. With the teacher's attention distracted, Lisa turned to [8] Cindy, and whispered, "Miss Smarty Pants! So you want to be teaches pet. You little brat!"

      The bell rang for lunch, and the children made their way to the playground. Cindy went to her school bag, and took out her lunch. She wondered whether anyone would want to sit with her. She wandered over to one of the benches, and opened her lunch. She was aware of someone behind her. It was a hesitant presence. She looked around and saw Sue. Sue asked, almost apologetically, "Can I sit with you?"

      "Of course you can", Cindy replied, making a space for her.

      As soon as Sue took out her lunch, she said to Cindy, under her breath, "Lisa Carbonelli is nasty. Make sure you keep out of her way. If you don't, she will make your life miserable."

      Cindy looked up and noticed that Lisa and her friends were sitting together under a tree in another part of the playground. Lisa was holding forth. Her voice was loud, but Cindy could not hear what she was saying. It was obvious that Lisa was the leader of the group gathered round her.

      After they ate their lunches, Cindy and Sue wandered around the playground, Sue pointing out the more interesting areas. She also talked about groups that hung out together.

      Cindy realized the lunch hour would soon be over. She excused herself, and walked to the toilets. As she entered through the door, she passed several of the girls who had been with Lisa Carbonelli. When they noticed her, they raised their eyes. They lifted their hands in a mocking gesture, and sang, "Little Miss Smarty Pants. Little Miss Smarty Pants."

      Cindy wondered what she had done to deserve this, and decided she wouldn't be answering too many more of Miss. Blumenthal's questions. She did not want to be noticed, and become disliked. She certainly didn't want to become the target of Lisa Carbonelli's jealousy and spite.

      After she washed her hands, Cindy walked out the door. She was thinking about Lisa Carbonelli. She was so distracted she didn't notice that someone had stuck a leg across the doorway. She tripped and fell forward, hitting her forehead on the cement [9] path. For a moment she lay on the path. She was in shock. Her head began to throb. Finally, she pulled herself up. As she did so, she caught sight on the two girls who passed her in the toilet with their sing-song chant. They were laughing and giggling. She saw them take off for the far corner of the playground, where Lisa Carbonelli was holding court. A smile broke out on Lisa's face. If Cindy had been suspicious before, she now knew that she would need to look out for Lisa Carbonelli and her friends.

      During the lunch hour Cindy noticed that Lisa Carbonelli had been talking excitedly with one of the boys.

      "Who is that boy", she asked Sue.

      "Brian Jenks."

      "What's he like?"

      "Thinks he's somebody special", Sue replied. "He spends a lot of time with the Russell twins, and with Syd Gafney. Syd is always getting into fights. Brian is the captain of the under 12 soccer team, and the fastest runner in the class. His parents take him to little athletics. He has a special coach. He's a favourite with the girls, and he knows it. Lisa Carbonelli has her eye on him."

      The bell rang and the children filed back into the classroom. As Cindy was about to sit down, one of the boys, who said little all morning, whispered, as he past her, "Don't worry about the Carbonelli girl. She tries that on everyone who is new."

      When she was seated, Cindy leaned over to Sue, and asked, "Who was that?"

      "Tom Piggot", Sue replied. "Doesn't say much. Don't know what he's like. He hasn't been at the school long. Keeps to himself."

      In the afternoon, after a session on social studies, the teacher gave the children at ten-minute break. As Cindy was straightening her books, a girl from one of the other tables approached Sue.

      "I heard Lisa Carbonelli tell her friends that she was going to "The Place" again this afternoon after school," the stranger said.

      "What do they do there?", Sue asked. [10]

      "I don't know. It's a spooky place. You wouldn't catch me dead there!"

      "What is this "Place" you two are talking about", Cindy interrupted.

      "Oh, I am sorry", Sue cut in, "I forgot to introduce you two."

      "I'm Belinda Forbes", the stranger said, "I'm sorry. I should have introduced myself. Welcome to the school. I'm a friend of Sue's."

      "And I'm Cindy."

      "Yes, I know. I hope you'll have a good time here." Dropping her voice, she went on, "Make sure you keep out on the way of Lisa Carbonelli. She can be hurtful. There are girls, those you will see with her, who will do anything to be part of her group. And keep away from Brian Jenks. Lisa considers he belongs to her. Brian laps up the attention she gives him. His family is important in this town. Lisa likes to think that being with Brian makes her important. She is not from one of the important families. She was picked on when she started school. Her parents don't have a lot of money. Some of the others laughed at the way she dressed. She didn't like it. She got into a fight with one of the other girls. After that, she decided to get in first and show the others that she wasn't going to be pushed around. Since then most of the girls in the class are scared of her.

      "I would like to know what Lisa and her friends do at the 'Place'", Sue broke in, "Maybe one day we'll find out."

      Cindy walked home that afternoon, accompanied part of the way by Sue, and her friend, Belinda. She parted company from her friends several blocks from home. Once she was on her own, she began reflecting on the day, her first day at the new school. She had found a friend in Sue, and liked Sue's friend, Belinda. And that boy, what was his name? Yes, Tom Piggot. Don't know what to make of him? Didn't say much. And "The Place"? Was it a secret hideaway? Why were her new friends so scared of it? Was it because of Lisa Carbonelli? Or was there really something spooky about the place? Maybe she would have a chance to find out. [11]

      "How was your first day?", her mother asked, as Cindy entered through the back door.

      "Okay."

      "Did you make any friends?"

      "Yes, one of the girls made me feel welcome, and I met her friend."

      "What's that scratch on your forehead. You've bruised yourself?", her mother inquired, as she walked over and began examining the graze and bruising on her forehead.

      Not wanting to alarm her mother, Cindy replied, "I wasn't looking where I was going. I tripped and fell on the path."

      "You'll have to watch where you are going", her mother replied, returning to the kitchen table, where she was preparing vegetables for the evening meal.

      Cindy took her school bag into her room. It slid off her shoulders onto the floor. It hadn't been too bad a day, in spite of Lisa Carbonelli. Cindy had learned that most schools had their Lisa Carbonellis. She had made new friends, and was excited about the future. She made one important decision. She wasn't going to answer questions the teacher asked the class. She did not want others to think she was a know-all. She particularly wanted to avoid provoking Lisa Carbonelli. [12]

Chapter 2

      When she woke the next morning, Cindy reminded herself that she had survived the first day at her new school. In the weeks that followed, she managed to avoid provoking Lisa Carbonelli. There were niggles, but these irritations were to be expected. Cindy also realized that she was not the only one on the receiving end of Lisa's sharp tongue, or her spiteful behaviour.

      One day, when the teacher asked her to take a message to the Principal, Cindy returned to discover that the library books she had been using, which she left on her table, were missing. She turned to Sue, and asked, "Those books! Do you know where they are?" Sue hadn't noticed they'd gone. She had been caught up with what she was working on. Cindy stole a glance in the direction of Lisa Carbonelli. Lisa glared back maliciously, her face breaking out into a smile.

      Even though Cindy refrained from saying very much in class, even when Miss Blumenthal directly questioned her, it was obvious that she was one of the brighter students. Lisa was an average student. This got under Lisa's skin. The fact that Cindy was also attractive, with her long blonde hair and green eyes, further infuriated her. That Lisa's anger had been coming to the boil was obvious from occasional cutting remark she made about Cindy in her absence, remarks overheard by Cindy's growing circle of friends, and passed on to her. Cindy was expecting some sort of explosion. The disappearance of the book confirmed her suspicion.

      Tom Piggot had not said anything more to her since that first day, though she was aware that he occasionally glanced in her direction. He was not forward, like some of the other boys, who were not afraid to let it be known that they were attracted to her. However, in spite of the fact that he kept his distance, Cindy sensed that he was looking out for her, as a brother might. Cindy had never had a brother. Nor did she have a sister. She was an [13] only child. She sensed that Tom might become a good friend, if ever she got to know him.

      The boys in the class generally kept to themselves, as the girls did. Both groups pretended they had little interest in each other. This did not stop some of the boys, including Brian Jenks, from showing off in front of Cindy and her friends. Lisa was not present when Brian demonstrated his skill on the bars, but several of Lisa's friends were. They immediately told Lisa. Black anger rose in her, like mercury in a thermometer. Struggling to control herself, she pushed the anger down. She whispered to her friends, "I will get the bitch!"

      Cindy did not tell her mother about Lisa Carbonelli, about the incidents, or about her fears. She kept these to herself. She was aware that her mother was having a hard time. Elsa was anxious and fearful, emotions she couldn't hide from Cindy. Cindy said nothing. She decided that she needed to deal with her problems herself.

      Cindy continued to wonder about her real parents. What were they like? Why had she been told so little about them? There were times when she wished they were there for her. But, at the moment, they were no more than question marks, shadowy figures who had no identity. Her imagination often conjured up imaginary parents. But that's all they were, imaginary! She wondered if she would ever find out anything about them?

      For some reason, Cindy could not get "The Place" out of her mind. It was like a magnet, drawing her. She could not explain the feeling, but it would not go away. She knew that at some time she would need to explore this building. It wasn't that it was used by Lisa Carbonelli, and her friends, as a clubhouse, that aroused the interest. It was something much deeper.

      Cindy was not all that interested in boys. They were strange creatures. She was occasionally amused by their antics.

      Though other girls in the class did not want to admit they were interested in the boys, they found it hard to hide their fascination. They occasionally glanced furtively at the boys who interested them. [14]

      Cindy was not impressed by the show-offs, particularly those boys who tried to chat up the girls. She saw through them. This did not mean that she did not fantasize about having a boyfriend, someone she could talk to, someone who, if she were in danger, would rescue her. It would be even better if this friend were good-looking. However, the good-looking ones appeared to be only interested in themselves.

      Cindy was unaware of how attractive she was, and did not welcome the advances of some of the more forward boys. She could see through their antics and intentions. In spite of her lack of interest in the boys the other girls thought desirable, she secretly longed for the companionship of a boy whom she could count on as a friend.

      The school was preparing for its annual athletic carnival. This was an exciting time for many of the children, particularly those who fancied their chances of winning. Many had begun practicing on the school grounds, or at the local oval, after school.

      It was rumoured that Brian Jenks had been training for some months under the guidance of his coach. His wealthy parents were able to pay for this tuition. Jenks was considered the fastest of the under 12 boys. Other of the boys, and some of the girls, watched him train. They had to admit that he was fast. Chief among his cheerleaders was Lisa Carbonelli. She walked home with him after training sessions. If he won, she wanted to share some of his glory.

      However, while Lisa let it be known that she had put her brand on Brian, he didn't consider their relationship exclusive. He tried to charm any girl who took his fancy. He craved their admiration. This infuriated Lisa, who took it out on the girls to whom he was drawn.

      As the athletic carnival approached, Bryan dreamed of winning and being the centre of attention. His friends assured him he had the under 12 fifty-metres in the bag. They were already working out how they would celebrate his win.

      The day of the carnival finally arrived. It was a sunny day, with little wind. By nine o'clock the school had gathered at the [15] Oval. As it was a Saturday, most of the students were accompanied by their parents, who had come to cheer them on. Teachers were marshalling students of different ages. A long jump pit was prepared, and the uprights and crossbar for the high jump were in position. Sacks, sticks, scarves, spoons and hard-boiled eggs were piled in different areas around the oval for novelty events.

      The vice principal, Mr. Ted Jones, who was responsible for organising the carnival, called for silence. Holding a microphone in his hand, he welcomed parents, students, and teaching staff to the Sports Day. He told the contestants that he hoped they would be able to do their best. Teachers sorted students into age groups and the carnival got underway.

      During the novelty events, there was a great deal of laughter, as students had fun making fools of themselves. It didn't matter who won. If you ended up sprawled on the ground, so long as you weren't injured, it didn't matter. You would have a story to tell afterwards, which you would share with your friends, who would be falling over themselves with laughter.

      The serious events were scheduled for mid-morning. As the time approached for the races to begin, the hilarity subsided, and the crowd quieted. The contestants could not disguise their nervousness. The call came for different age groups to arrange themselves in lines. The boys and girls formed up separately. The youngest children would race first, the eldest last. The teachers, and some of their parents, helped marshal the children. They held up the tape at the finishing line, identified the place-getters, and recorded the results.

      Once a race began, wild cheering broke out from the crowd, parents urging on their children. Friends barracked for each other. Occasionally a child fell. They sometimes picked themselves up and kept going. Others scrambled to their feet, and, in disappointment, disappeared into the crowd of spectators.

      The time arrived for the under 12's to test their skills. The girls were brought to the starting line first. Cindy found herself alongside Lisa Carbonelli. Anger burned in Lisa's eyes. She [16] leaned across to Cindy, and whispered, in a spiteful voice, "I hear the bitch doesn't have a proper mother!"

      Cindy felt a stab of pain, a deep hurt. But she controlled herself. She did not respond, as Lisa intended she would. Lisa had done her homework. She had been working out ways to hurt Cindy, without actually physically attacking her. Cindy's mind was a whirl. There was part of her that wanted to respond, to explain that she loved her adoptive mother.

      Before she had time to think about her reaction, the starting gun went off, and the other children were off and running. Recovering herself, Cindy took off. She was well behind the others. However, by the time she was halfway down the course she had begun to catch them. Four metres from the finish she was level pegging with Lisa. She was about to pass her when Lisa thrust out her foot and caught Cindy on the right leg just above the ankle. Thrown off balance, Cindy tumbled onto the ground, grazing the outside of her right knee. Before she had a chance to pick herself up, the other children had passed the finishing line. Lisa Carbonelli came third. As Cindy hobbled off the track, Lisa caught her eye and smiled. The smile was full of satisfaction and malice.

      Cindy's mother pushed her way through the crowd, reaching out her arms to embrace her daughter. Cindy, who was feeling more anger than disappointment, or embarrassment, threw herself at her mother. Several tears ran down her cheeks.

      "Are you all right?", her mother asked, in a voice that was full of concern, "Let me look at that leg."

      "I'm alright, Mum", Cindy responded, adding "My leg is a little sore, and my knee is grazed, but I will be OK."

      "That girl ran into you. I don't know what got into her."

      At that moment one of the fathers, who was acting as a steward, to keep spectators off the course, came up to Cindy and asked, "Are you all right?"

      "Nothing broken", her mother explained.

      "Are you sure you are OK", he asked Cindy.

      "I'm OK", she replied. [17]

      Looking at the graze, this kindly man commented, "It will heal quickly. Make sure your mother dresses it tonight before you go to bed."

      Before moving further down the line, the steward said to Cindy and her mother, "Would you two please move back a little, to clear the track for the next race."

      "Of course", replied Elsa.

      When she looked around, Elsa discovered that Cindy had already stepped back. In spite of the discomfort in her leg, she was thinking about the next race. Would Brian Jenks win, as everyone assumed?

      All eyes were on the starting line. The boys were waiting to be told to get on their marks. Some looked awkward, as if they didn't know what to do. Others, who had been preparing, were dancing up and down on their toes. Brian Jenks, confident of a win, was smiling as he ran his eyes over the competition. As far as he was concerned, first place was already in the bag.

      The boys were instructed to get on their marks. They leaned forward. For a moment, all was quiet. The silence was broken by the crack of the starting gun. Young legs pounded the grass. Jenks was off to a good start, flying over the first 10 metres. He was edging ahead. At the 25-metre mark it looked as if no one could catch him.

      Suddenly, a wiry young man emerged from the pack behind him, his thin legs thrusting into the air. The roars from the crowd were almost deafening, as the two young men fought it out. Jenks, unaware that his rival was making ground, was already anticipating the sweet taste of victory. Suddenly, he caught sight of movement to his right. He realised he was being challenged. He tried to push his legs faster, but the other was gaining on him. Two metres from the finish line the two young men were side by side. In that two metres, Jenks rival, digging deep, pulled ahead. It took time for all contestants to pull up. When the winner looked around, Brian Jenks found himself looking into the face of Tom Piggot. Swallowing his [18] disappointment, he walked towards the exhausted Piggot, and congratulated him.

      Forgetting the pain in her leg, and without thinking about what she was doing, Cindy ran up to Tom, who was walking towards the table where his name would be recorded. With wide-eyed admiration, and a smile on her face, she reached her hand towards his shoulder, and burst out "Congratulations, Tom. You were like a racehorse."

      Taken aback, Tom, who was gasping for breath, responded, "Thanks. I did not expect to beat him. The only running I have done has been to chase rabbits in our paddocks."

      With the moment of excitement having passed, the two young people looked away from each other. Cindy was embarrassed by her spontaneous response. Tom also felt a little awkward. They were rescued from this situation by a call from one of the parents at the table where results were being registered.

      "First place getter! Come over to the table. I need your name."

      As she was walking back to where her mother was standing, Cindy tried to work out why she had responded so instantly, so warmly, to Tom's success. She did not know much about him. He had only spoken to her once. And she had not paid much attention to him since, except to notice that he tended to keep to himself. Maybe her excitement was the result of a secret wish that Brian Jenks would be beaten. He was so full of himself. Or it might have been because he was Lisa's boyfriend. It was impossible to tell.

      Though Cindy had been embarrassed by her enthusiasm, she kept replaying the race in her mind. Every time she did, she noticed that Tom's win left her with the same warm feeling.

      After dinner that evening her mother bathed the graze on the side of her knee. Then Cindy wandered into her bedroom. She lay on the bed, going over the events of the day. Though Lisa had tried to torment her, and had injured her, it had been a good day. But it was a day that raised more questions than it answered. Her [19] foster mother came in to say good night, and turn out the lights. After Elsa left the room, Cindy rolled onto her side, and was soon asleep. [20]

Chapter 3

      Several weeks after the carnival, Cindy invited Sue and Belinda to her home after school. They spent most of the time in her room, going over all that had happened that day. Their excited voices occasionally drifted out to the kitchen, assuring Cindy's mother that the girls were enjoying themselves.

      When Cindy began to explain to Belinda how to work on one of the difficult maths problems they had been set that day, Sue wandered out to talk to Elsa Hardacre. She stood by the stove, occasionally peering into the saucepan Cindy's mother was stirring.

      Sue lived with her father. Her parents had divorced. While her father took care of her, cooking her meals, washing her clothes, keeping the house clean, and occasionally taking time off work to attend school functions, she missed her mother. Sue missed a woman's touch. While she loved her father, he was no substitute for her mother. She saw her mother every fortnight. She lived in the City, and it was difficult for her mother to visit more frequently.

      What she missed most was talking with her mother. Sue discovered that "women talk" was different from "men talk." While it was good to have a father around, when her bicycle needed repairing, or when she required help with her homework, he rarely sat and chatted as her mother had done. He usually knew when she was upset, and would sit with her, and she would pour out her heart. But sometimes she just felt like talking, talking about what her friends were doing, about the difficulties she was having with some of the other girls. She wandered out to talk to Elsa, almost without intending to.

      As she chatted away, Sue discovered that she like talking to Cindy's mother. She was kind, and listened. They talked about clothes, boys, schoolwork and teachers. Sue became expansive, and said more than she realised. At one point she began talking about "The Place." Elsa listed intently. While she tried to play down her interest, Elsa began to probe. [21]

      "What is this "Place?'", she asked.

      "It's an old house that no one lives in. It's hidden behind trees. It is hard to see from the street because the garden is like a jungle. There are blackberry bushes everywhere."

      "Does anyone live there?", Cindy's mother inquired.

      "Nobody lives there, except perhaps ghosts!", Sue responded, lowering her voice when she mentioned "ghosts."

      "Ghosts!"

      "Well, maybe not ghosts. But it is a scary place. Some people say it's haunted."

      Suddenly, from the direction of Cindy's room, a voice called out, "Sue. Are you there?"

      Sue excused herself, and joined the others. As Elsa Hardacre continued stirring the soup, which was simmering on the stove, anxiety began to well up within her. She didn't want her daughter going near that house.

      One afternoon, shortly after Sue's visit, Cindy came home from school, and plopped her bag on the kitchen table. She sank exhausted into a chair, and reached for a glass of warm Milo her mother had prepared for her.

      "You know that building over on Bennett St, on the far side of the town, the house they call The Place", Elsa began.

      Cindy looked up, startled that her mother had mentioned "The Place", as she was unaware that her mother knew anything about the derelict building. After a moment's hesitation, Cindy responded, "Yes, I heard some of the girls talking about it the first day I was at school. Some think it is haunted. Some of the girls use it as the clubhouse. I think they made up the story that it is haunted to scare us away."

      "I was talking the other day to Mrs. Carbonelli", Cindy's foster mother continued, "And she said that Lisa sometimes goes there. She has told her not to, but Lisa is headstrong. Her father works out of town, and is not often home. Mrs. Carbonelli finds it hard coping with six children on her own, without a husband around. Apparently Lisa is a handful." [22]

      "Lisa has a mind of her own", Cindy acknowledged, without giving anything away. She didn't want Elsa to know how terrible Lisa had been to her.

      "I would like you to be careful. I am told the house is in a poor state of repair. If you go exploring, you might hurt yourself. I would be happier knowing that you were keeping away from 'The Place.'"

      After the brief hesitation, Cindy replied, "I will be careful."

      This was not the answer her mother wanted to hear. But Elsa did not want to directly forbid Cindy to have anything to do with the house. That was a sure way of exciting interest.

      Cindy did not want to disobey her mother. She was happy that Elsa had not absolutely forbidden her to go to the house. If she did visit "The Place", there would need to be a special reason for doing so.

      Several weeks after Cindy's mother cautioned her about "The Place", the school organized ball games at the local oval, which was on Bennett St, a short distance from the run-down house. The children ate their lunch at school, and then walked several blocks to the oval. The games continued until three o'clock in the afternoon, after which the children began making their way home.

      This was too much of a temptation for Cindy, Sue and Belinda. A slight detour would take them past "The Place." Cindy could see no harm in this. Nothing could happen to them if they merely walked past the house, and peered into the yard.

      As they approached the dilapidated house, the girls could see that it had been a large, sprawling home. Over time, the weatherboards, which had not been painted for many years, had turned gray. Through gaps in the bushes, they could see that some were missing. It was impossible to get a good look at the house, however, because of the number of trees surrounding it. The front lawns were overgrown with bushes that had not been cut back for many years. There were blackberry canes a metre high and thickly entwined. There were also tufts of grass. That part of the roof that was visible was in serious need of repair. It [23] had once been painted red, but the paint had worn thin. Much of the corrugated iron had rusted through.

      The three girls were standing outside the fence, craning their necks to get a better look. They were concentrating so intently on the house they didn't realize another student had joined them. It was Cindy who first became aware that they were not alone. She looked around, and found herself gazing into the face of a bemused Tom Piggot.

      "What are you looking at?", Tom asked.

      The sound of Tom's voice caused Sue and Belinda to turn around. His voice broke the spell the derelict house cast over them.

      "We are wondering what is in there", Sue responded, "We have heard so much about this house, about how it's haunted. We thought we'd take a look."

      "Why don't you go through the gate and get a closer view?", Tom asked.

      "We are too scared", Belinda replied.

      "What is there to be scared about? It is just an old house!"

      "But it looks scary", Sue said.

      "We have an old house like that", Tom responded, "It's on our property. It was built by one of the pioneers in the district. It's run-down, like this. We use it to store things. It's not scary at all. Just old and worn out."

      "I'm not afraid. And I would like to go in and have a look", Cindy explained, "But I know my mother would not be happy with me if I did. She has warned me against going near this place."

      Tom propped his bike against the fence, under the overhanging branch of a large bushy tree that hid it from view. "Look after my school bag", he said, as he draped it over the bike. "I'm going to have a look."

      "Don't hurt yourself", Sue cautioned.

      Tom looked back, and smiled. "I'll be okay", he said. [23]

      Tom pulled several of the large blackberry canes aside, and disappeared out of sight behind several large bushes. They could hear his feet crunching the leaves, but could not see him.

      Suddenly they heard his voice in the distance.

      "You beauty!"

      "What is it", whispered Belinda, loud enough to be heard.

      "You'll have to come and see", Tom answered, "He's a beauty."

      "What's a beauty?", Sue responded, "What are you talking about Tom. What have you found?"

      By this stage Tom was pushing his way through the bushes behind the blackberry canes. He emerged into the clearing, his eyes alive with excitement.

      "You haven't found a ghost?", Sue asked, apprehensively.

      "No! Nothing like that", Tom responded, "But something just as exciting."

      "What is it then?", Belinda asked.

      "I'm not going to tell you. You'll have to see it for yourself", Tom responded.

      Tom's excitement was so infectious that the girls found themselves following him through the blackberry canes, through the bushes, and into an area free of bushes at the side of the house. They had been so caught up by his enthusiasm that they didn't stop to realize what they were doing.

      "What are you going to show us?", Belinda asked.

      "Shhhh!", Tom answered, almost in a whisper. "I don't want you to scare it away.

      "Scare what away, Tom!", Sue asked, in a whisper.

      "Wait a moment, and I'll show you", Tom answered, in a voice that indicated he was becoming impatient with their questioning.

      "Get down, because it is under the house", he explained.

      The floor of the house was several feet above the ground. The house had been built on stumps. There was a lot of rubbish under the house - old bottles and cans, as well as rocks and other rubble. Tom reached out his hand, ever so slowly, and gently [25] lifted up an old piece of corrugated iron that was lying on the ground.

      "Ooo!", Sue squealed. "What is it? A dragon?"

      "Look at its tongue!", Belinda whispered, her eyes agog at the sight in front of her. She was very nervous, as was Sue, and would have run back through the bushes if Tom had not been there. "Tom must know what he is doing", she assured herself.

      "It's not a dragon", Tom responded, a smile breaking out on his face. "Haven't you seen one of these", he asked, looking around at each of the girls.

      "No!", they answered, in unison.

      "This little beauty is a blue tongue lizard. We have many of them on the farm, but I haven't seen one this big before."

      They were only half assured. Tom reached for the lizard and picked it up with expert care. Its tongue darted in all directions. A blue, gray, brown colour, it was solid, almost fat. It had discovered all the food it needed in the old derelict home, with its overgrown garden.

      The four young people were gazing at the lizard when they heard voices, girls' voices. They looked at each other. Without saying a word, and before they had time to think of what they were doing, they ran to the back of the house, where they hoped to hide.

      They could clearly hear the voice of Lisa Carbonelli. They listened as the voices came closer. Then they heard the sound of shoes on wooden boards. Lisa and her friends must have been entering the old house through the front door. Cindy, Sue, Belinda, and Tom could have waited a few minutes, and then crept back through the bushes, and escaped, without being seen. But something kept them where they were. The fact that Tom was with them gave the girls confidence.

      They could hear voices inside the house. Lisa was giving instructions to the others. They were too far away to hear what was being said. Before long, however, they heard what sounded like dancing, the sound of feet thumping on the floor. [26]

      "Let's see what this is all about", Tom suggested, looking at the girls for a response. He could read the fear in the faces of Sue and Belinda. Cindy was keeping her own counsel. She was thinking about her mother's warning. Her curiosity, however, was too strong. The girls remained where they were, while Tom scouted around to see whether there was another door into the house. He was gone about three minutes. When he returned, they knew he had found a way.

      "You'll have to be quiet", he explained, "Otherwise they may hear us."

      The girls crept around the back of the house, making sure not to kick old tins scattered across the yard. At one point, Belinda almost stumbled. She had not seen the branch of a fallen tree. She managed to steady herself.

      Tip-toeing along the far side of the house, which was in shadow, the four adventurers reached sagging wooden steps that led to a small porch. They squatted on their haunches, while Tom mounted the steps, slowly, one by one. They could hear Lisa and her friends making a great deal of noise in one of the rooms at the front of the house.

      Tom pushed the door to see whether it would open without making too much noise. He could hear it begin to creak, but it was opening. He lifted the door a little, as he opened it, so it would not drag on the floor. When it was open sufficiently, he crept back, very carefully, and signaled to the others to make their way slowly up the steps. When they were all inside, he closed the door slightly, so that it would not be obvious that it had been opened. He left enough room for them to squeeze out, one by one, if they needed to escape quickly.

      Once in my house, the noise that Lisa Carbonelli and her friends were making became much louder. They could not tell what they were doing, because, at this point, they could not see them. It sounded as if they were dancing. Once Cindy, Sue, Belinda and Tom adjusted to the darkness, they discovered that they were in what had once been the kitchen. At the opposite side [27] of this room they saw a door. Tom crept across the floor, while the others waited, to determine whether he could see anything.

      He looked through the tiny crack between the door and the door jam, then motioned the others to join him. He put his finger to his lips, indicating that they should be quiet. Cindy, Sue, and Belinda crept across the floor. At one point, Sue's foot put pressure on a board that made a slight noise. She stopped, looked around, and took another path to the door.

      Four sets of eyes peered into the room, where five girls were dancing in a circle. They could not tell what they were saying. They appeared to be speaking a foreign language. It sounded like chanting. Three candles were burning in the centre of the room, their dancing flames throwing shadows on the walls and filling the room with slithers of red and purple light. The atmosphere was eerie.

      The longer they looked, the more each of them felt that there was someone, or something else in the room. While Cindy was gazing at Lisa Carbonelli, she felt she saw the flickering image of a ghost-like figure emerging from the wall behind her. Surely it was her imagination, she thought to herself. There were no such things as ghosts. But she was not convinced. The others must have had similar feelings, because Sue, suddenly forgetting which she was, let out a muffled "Ohh!"

      One of Lisa's gang, who was close to the kitchen, heard something, because she turned and looked towards the door.

      In a moment, the four sets of eyes, sizing up the situation, quickly retreated through the kitchen.

      "I heard something in the next room", the girl said.

      "You are imagining things", another of the girls responded, "You're always imagining things. I don't know why we bother with scaredy-cats like you."

      "But I did hear something", the girl protested, wincing under the rebuke.

      Lisa walked across from the other side of the room, pushed the door open, gazed around, and, seeing nothing, turned to the [28] girl who had been protesting that she's heard something, and said, "There's nothing there. The room is empty."

      Tom, Cindy, Sue and Belinda were pressed against the wall of the house, immediately outside the kitchen door. They did this in the hope they would not be seen from the side window of the room in which the girls had been dancing. They were standing, leaning against each other like sardines in a tin, hoping against hope that they would not be seen. They held their breath. They hoped Lisa's friends would soon return to their dancing. Cindy, Belinda, Sue and Tom could not remain in this position on the porch for long. It was too uncomfortable. There was too little space.

      Once they heard the chanting start up again, and the pounding of feet on the floor, they crept back into the kitchen. They realised they could be spotted it they attempted to make a break for it now. They decided to remain until Lisa Carbonelli and her friends left the house.

      They waited, and waited. It seemed as if Lisa and her friends would never leave. Finally, the noise of the dancing and chanting ceased. They heard the girls talking. The talking went on for what seemed ages. They couldn't make out what they were saying. At one point, Cindy though she heard her name mentioned, but she could not be sure. The voices were muffled. Finally, when they were becoming desperate, because it was so late, they heard footsteps on the front verandah, and the front steps. The voices became fainter. They waited another five minutes. Hearing nothing, they decided that the coast was clear. They slipped out the side door, scooted round the back of the house, and pushed their way through the bushes and blackberry canes until they reached the front gate. They opened the rickety gate, and found themselves on the footpath outside.

      Tom was not concerned that it was late, as he often stopped at the homes of his friends after school. His mother would not be worried. She knew he could look after himself. He collected his bike and schoolbag from behind the tree. Throwing his leg over the bar, he pedaled in the direction of the family farm. [29]

      The girls made their way home. Belinda was the first to be dropped off, and then Sue. Cindy walked the rest of the way home on her own. When she reached the front door, she could see her mother pacing up and down in the kitchen.

      "Where have you been", Cindy's mother demanded, in a voice that was filled with anger and concern, "I had been imagining all sorts of things. I thought you might have hurt yourself, or worse."

      "I'm sorry", Cindy replied, somewhat sheepishly, "I was with my friends."

      "You should not have stayed out this late. You know how I worry."

      "I'm sorry", Cindy replied, "I did not intend to stay out this late. It just happened."

      "You will be grounded for a week", Elsa Hardacre said, looking intently at Cindy.

      "A whole week!", Cindy responded, despairingly.

      "Yes, a whole week. You'll come straight home from school. You won't be able to visit your friends."

      "I guess I deserve it", Cindy commented, almost to herself, her shoulders fallen.

      "Oh Cindy", Elsa said, her voice betraying her relief, "I'm glad your home." Rushing across the kitchen, she embraced Cindy, who was standing with her schoolbag hanging from her hand. Cindy threw her arms around her mother. They held each other tightly.

      "I feel so responsible for you", her mother said, in a voice that was so faint it could scarcely be heard, "Sometimes I think it is all too much for me."

      Cindy continued hugging Elsa. The last thing she wanted to do was to cause her mother further concern. She felt a little guilty, but knew the incident had not damaged the relationship between them. She was glad that Elsa had not asked her more directly where she had been. She did not want to lie to her mother, but she was afraid that if she was forced to tell her what [30] they'd done that afternoon, that Elsa may forbid her to visit "The Place" again. As she walked into her bedroom, she heard her mother's voice from the kitchen, "When you have put your bag away, and washed your hands, come out to the kitchen. Dinner is almost ready. I'd like you to set the table for me. [31]

Chapter 4

      When Cindy walked into the classroom the following Monday morning, she noticed the eyes of both Sue and Belinda fixed on her. None of the girls was able to concentrate on their lessons that morning. They could not wait until the mid-morning break to catch up, and share their experiences.

      After the bell rang, the teacher gave them permission to leave the classroom. The three girls made for their favourite meeting place, under a large gum in a corner of the playground, where it was unlikely that they would be disturbed.

      "What happened to you", Belinda asked Cindy.

      "Grounded for a week", Cindy explained.

      "You poor thing!", Belinda responded.

      "It could have been worse", Cindy replied, "She could have asked where we were, and what we were doing."

      "But you'll miss the party!", Sue broke in.

      "Everybody is going to be there", Belinda went on, "And I know that Lauren particularly wanted you there."

      "Oh, I'd forgotten", Cindy answered, "And I did so want to go."

      "I will ask Lauren to save some cake for you", Belinda offered.

      "Thanks", Cindy responded weakly, unable to hide her disappointment. "And what about you, Sue?", Cindy went on, "How did your father react?"

      "He was unhappy. But he wasn't too upset. He's used to me arriving home late. He knows who my friends are. If he's worried, he will ring their mothers to see if I am there. That afternoon he was home late himself. He was asked to work back at the shop. He was worried that I might be home on my own. He was relieved when he got home, and found I wasn't there. He imagined I had stopped by to talk with friends. He began to get a little concerned, when it was 5:30 and I still wasn't home. 1 didn't tell him where we'd been, or what we'd done.

      "What about you, Belinda", Cindy asked. [32]

      "My Mum was beginning to get worried, and she was going to send Dad out to see if he could find me", Belinda began, "But I arrived home before Dad got the car out. He was glad to see me, and didn't say much. Mum wanted an early tea, as she was going out. We all sat down to dinner, which was already on the table. Mum seemed to have things on her mind. She was off to a committee meeting. Something to do with the tennis club."

      "Seems like you both got off lightly!", Cindy suggested to her friends. "I can't complain, though I am disappointed in not be able to go to the party. I like Lauren, and most of the class will be there."

      "At least you won't have to put up with Lisa", Sue suggested.

      "I would be happy to put up with Lisa if I could go to the party", Cindy reflected. "I guess there is nothing I can do about it. I will speak to Lauren, and let her know I can't come."

      Lauren's family had lived in the town for the last five years. They were not yet accepted as locals. Lauren's father was the town doctor. Her mother was warm, and loads of fun. She had been a nurse, and helped in the school tuckshop. It would be a fun party, and Cindy was disappointed to miss it. But there would be other parties, and other times for catching up with Lauren.

      The party was scheduled for Thursday afternoon. Cindy would be one of the few girls in the class who would not be there. When Thursday morning arrived, she felt sad, and wondered why. Then she remembered that it was Lauren's party.

      The students did not give full attention to the lessons that day. They were thinking about the party. Most parents were at the school to collect their children when school finished for the day, so they could take them home, and dress them in their best clothes, before driving them to Lauren's house. Cindy walked home on her own, feeling a little sorry for herself.

      When she arrived home, her mother could see that she was disappointed. Cindy drank her Milo, and ate the cakes her mother placed on the kitchen table. Cindy did this automatically, [33] as if she was not concentrating on what she was doing. Her mind was on the party. She did not blame her mother for grounding her. She deserved to be grounded. It was just a pity that it was the week of Lauren's party.

      When she finished in the kitchen, Cindy picked up her bag and made her way to her room. Cindy deposited her bag in the corner of her room, took off her shoes, and lay down on the bed. She did not have to worry about homework. It was up-to-date.

      Cindy's body had hardly hit the bed before the phone rang. She thought it would be someone wanting her mother. She could hear her mother talking in the kitchen, but the voice was muffled, and she could not hear what was being said. It was not long before Elsa appeared at the door, the cordless phone from the kitchen in her hand.

      "It's a boy. Says he wants to talk to you. I think he said his name was 'Tom', but the line isn't good, and I can't be sure."

      Why would Tom be ringing her, if it was Tom? This was the first time she had been rung at home by a boy! Her friends had begun to ring, but they were girls.

      Cindy looked quizzically at her mother. "I wonder what he wants?"

      Cindy put the phone to her ear.

      "Hello!", she said.

      "Hello", the voice answered, "This is Tom. Tom Piggot."

      "Tom, I didn't expect you to ring!", Cindy said, still unable to guess why Tom had rung.

      "I thought you might be able to help me", Tom explained, "That homework the teacher gave us. Miss Blumenthal asked us to write about what we want to be when we grow up."

      "Yes, that's right", Cindy replied, "I have already written mine."

      "I left mine until the last minute", Tom responded, "I don't like essays. I was wondering if you could help me?"

      Cindy was hesitant, and didn't answer for several seconds. [34]

      "I don't want you to write it for me", Tom explained "That would be cheating. I want to do it myself. But I would like help in setting it out?"

      "Of course I will help you", Cindy responded, warmly, "That is, if I can. I don't really know what the teacher wants, but Mum helped me. I could tell you what she suggested."

      "My Dad's too busy", Tom explained, "He's harvesting wheat at the moment. He wants to get it in before the rain starts. My Mum cooks beaut meals, but doesn't know how to write exercises. She told me to ring one of my friends. I immediately thought of you. I knew you were good at it."

      "What do you want to be?", Cindy asked.

      "I want to be an archaeologist", Tom responded.

      "What's an archaeologist?", Cindy asked, stumbling to get her tongue around the word.

      "It's someone who digs up old bones", Tom answered.

      "Old bones!", Cindy shot back, "What sort of bones?"

      "Dinosaur bones", Tom volunteered.

      "Is that what archaeologists do? Dig up dinosaur bones?"

      "That is one of the things they do. They also dig up ancient cities. They dig up people's bones, people who lived long ago. They find out how they lived and how they died. It's terribly exciting."

      "But I thought you might want to be a farmer", Cindy suggested, "like your father."

      "I don't mind farming. But I would rather be an archaeologist. Last year we found some old bones in one of our paddocks, where we hadn't ploughed before. The plough hit something hard. I called my father. I got down from the tractor, and we squatted down to see what it was. It was a human bone. My father called the local policeman. He took the bones away, and sent them to the university. They said they were the bones of an Aborigine who lived a long time ago. I was excited. I wondered if there were any more bones in our paddocks."

      "I don't know that I would like to spend my life digging up old bones", Cindy said, "Especially people's bones. Yuck!" [35]

      "I am not asking you to dig up any bones", Tom interrupted, "But just to help me with the writing. What do I do?"

      "Mum said you should have an introduction", Cindy began, "You need to say what you are going to talk about. Then you need to put down that you want to become. An arch!! What was it?

      "Archaeologist", Tom butted in.

      "Good. Archaeologist. Mum's says it's best if you use points."

      "What are points?", Tom asked, finding himself at a loss to understand what Cindy was talking about.

      "A list of things you want to say. Mum says its good to leave the most important points till last. Then you need to finish it off. It's called a "conclusion." Anyway, that's what I tried to do with my story. I don't know what the teacher will think. Mum likes it."

      "Thanks", said Tom, "I think I've got it. When I get off the phone, I will write down what you have told me."

      Before he put the phone down, Tom asked, "Since we visited "The Place" the other day, I have been wondering if there are any bones buried there?"

      "The old house was scary enough, without any bones", Cindy answered, "I don't know that I want to go digging up the yard looking for bones."

      Tom chuckled to himself. Cindy's remark reminded him that he did not understand girls. He had two brothers, who, like him, helped on the farm. Girls were strange creatures. Interesting, but strange. They were different.

      After a moment's silence, while he though about these differences, Tom replied, "I had better go. Mum is calling me for tea. My Dad has come in from the paddock. Thanks for helping me. I will try writing something after tea. Bye."

      "Bye Tom."

      Cindy had hardly fallen back onto her bed, after talking to Tom, before she heard her mother calling her for the evening meal. [36]

      After tea Cindy retired to her room. She was disappointment at not being able to attend the party. The pain of her disappointment exhausted her. She was tired.

      Cindy decided she would get into her nightdress, and climb into bed. On the bedside table she had a copy of Norman Lindsay's illustrated classic, The Magic Pudding. The book was old, but she loved it. She had read it many times before. It was one of the books she read when she felt in need of comfort. Her father bought it for her many years ago. He enjoyed this book when he was a boy, and suspected that Cindy might like a copy of her own. He was right. It was one of her most treasured possessions.

      As Cindy reached for the book, she heard a tap on the door. It was her mother.

      "Would you like a drink."

      "Yes", Cindy responded.

      "Warm milk?", Elsa inquired.

      "Please!"

      Cindy settled back, fluffy pillows supporting her back as she leaned against the headrest at the foot of her bed. Her legs were drawn up under the blankets to support the book. Her mother brought in a warm mug of milk, placing it on the bedside table. She leaned over, gave Cindy a kiss on the forehead, smiled at her, and then backed out through the door, which she closed gently.

      Cindy had hardly begun reading before she found herself too tired to continue. She closed the book, dropping in onto the floor beside the bed. Her hand reached out, taking hold of the mug. She took a few sips. She gazed out over the end of the bed at the wall opposite. She was not really concentrating. There was a distant look in her eyes, as if she were seeing into another world. She took several more sips from the mug, and then placed it beside her on the table. She rolled onto her side, lifting herself on her right elbow, and adjusted the pillows. She lowered herself onto the mattress and snuggled into her pillows. She reached out, [36] turned out the light on the bedside table, and was soon fast asleep.

      That night Cindy had a dream that she was to remember for a long time. It did not seem like a dream. It seemed real.

      Cindy dreamed that she started out one morning with her school bag over her shoulder. But she was not going to school. She was travelling on a long, gravel road. She did not remember seeing any cars. She met others travelling the same road. Some were adults, others children. Some were walking in the direction in which she was travelling. Others were going in the opposite direction. Some were friendly, and talked to her. Others appeared not to notice her.

      Cindy did not have any idea where she was heading. But she was determined to get there. She was seeking something, but she could not tell what that something was. She realised she was not alone. She was accompanied by a small boy, who appeared to be about 5 years old. He did not tire, as most 5-year-olds would, but kept pace with her. For much of the time, she held his hand. He was always wanting to leave the road, and explore the side ditches, as well as tracks that led off in other directions.

      At one point, the road became steep. It was difficult for Cindy and the child to reach the top of the hill. When they did, they could see the sea. On the other side of the hill, the road wound its way down the cliff towards a sandy beach.

      "Let's walk on the sand", the little boy said.

      They left the road, clambered over a sand dune, and sat on the other side of the dune to take off their shoes. They picked the shoes up, and began walking toward the water. The waves were gently rolling in towards the shore. Cindy loved the feel of the sand between her toes.

      They passed a family that was playing in the sand. One child was squealing with delight as her father, lifting her over his shoulder, carried her upside-down. Cindy felt a sadness come over her as she watched the young girl and her father. She wanted to change places with the girl. [38]

      After Cindy and her companion had been walking for some time along the water's edge, Cindy noticed that the sky was becoming grey. Clouds were forming. It looked as if there might be a storm. The waves rose higher, and the sea turned from blue to grey. Cindy began to feel a little afraid. Her young companion seemed unaware of the danger.

      Cindy realized she must look for a place of safety. She could see nothing that would protect them from the storm. The sky grew darker, and the waters more troubled. The waves became so huge they were in danger of being swamped. A giant wave, that appeared from nowhere, began rolling towards them. Cindy picked up the 5-year-old and ran up the beach.

      Cindy could not run fast enough, and the wave picked them up, carrying them back into the sea. Cindy found herself furiously treading water, while she clung desperately to the 5 year-old. While water was lifting and tossing her around like a cork, she noticed dark forms in the water, several feet away. She kept her eyes on several large sea creatures that were circling them. She did not know what these creatures were. They did not appear to want to attack. They were not sharks. It seemed they wanted to have fun with her, to torment her. Suddenly, the head of one of these creatures broke the surface of the water. She found herself looking into the face of a monstrous creature that looked for all world like Lisa Carbonelli.

      Cindy was looking in half amazement, half fear, at this creature, when she suddenly felt herself picked up by another wave, and carried towards the shore. The wave deposited her, and the young boy, on the sand in front of a huge cliff. The five-year was beside her, coughing up seawater. She realised that unless she discovered a place of safety, somewhere where they could hide, the next wave could crush them against the cliff. All of a sudden, a section of the cliff opened up, and she found herself looking into a dark cave. She grabbed the little boy and ran into the dark interior. She found it difficult to see. However, after her eyes became accustomed to the dark, she could see that the cave stretched back a considerable distance. She also noticed a [39] ledge. She grabbed the boy with her right arm, and clambered up onto the ledge.

      Cindy sat down, exhausted, with the little boy between her legs. Her pounding heart began to settle down. Her eyes were adjusting to the dim light. She noticed something sticking out of the sand several feet away. She left the little boy where she had placed him, and crawled over to see what this thing was. Her hand reached out towards it. It was long, and thin, and had a knob on the end. But she could not pull it out of the sand. She began digging the sand out from around the object with her hands. The sand was soft. It was not long before she was able to pull the object free. When she finally held it in her hands, she began brushing away the sand that was caked around it. In no time, she found herself looking at a large bone, at what looked like a human bone. When she realised that this was what it was, she dropped it, and pulled back. As she did so, she looked deep into the pit she had dug, and saw other bones. The little boy had crawled to her side. She picked him up, as if she were protecting him from the bones.

      As Cindy looked deeper into the cave, she found herself gazing into a pair of eyes. A face began to form around the eyes. A body slowly emerged, attached to the face. The eyes were full of warm love. They also twinkled with wisdom. These eyes belonged to an old Aboriginal woman, whose skin was deeply lined. It was like leather. She was dark, and merged with the darkness of the cave. The woman smiled at Cindy, and Cindy knew she was safe.

      Suddenly, Cindy felt herself shaken. It took her a few moments to realise where he was. Like a deep-sea diver rising from the depths of the sea, she emerged from the world of her dreams, and looked about her bedroom. The door was open, and light was shining in from the lounge room. Her mother had heard groans from her room. Woken by the groans, she tip-toed into Cindy's bedroom. Seeing Cindy moaning, her mother shook her.

      "Are you all right?", the mother asked, anxiously. [40]

      Cindy, taking a moment to adjust to the changed scene, replied, "Yes, I'm alright."

      "You were dreaming", her mother explained, "You seemed distressed."

      "I was dreaming", Cindy responded, "But I'm OK." "Would you like me to stay with you for a while."

      After a moment's hesitation, Cindy replied, "No. I'm OK."

      Elsa leaned over and kissed Cindy on the cheek. After tucking the bed clothes around her, she tip-toed out of the room, closing the door behind her. Cindy remained awake for some time, going over the details of the dream. [41]

Chapter 5

      When Cindy set off for school the next morning, she discovered that her mind was still playing with the dream. Some dreams she did not remember. Others she remembered for a brief period. But there were few dreams like this dream. When her mother woke her, her heart was still pounding. When she reached the school grounds, she was still puzzling over what the dream might mean.

      When she opened the gate into the playground, she heard voices, excited voices, and looked up to see Sue and Belinda running towards her. They could not wait to tell her what had happened at the party. Caught up in their enthusiasm, Cindy forgot about the dream, at least for the time being.

      As soon as the bell went for the morning break, Lauren, who had been waiting for an opportunity, walked over to where Cindy was seated. Cindy was putting her coloured pencils in her cloth pencil case.

      "I was so disappointed you could not come last night", Lauren began, "I so much wanted you to be there." Lauren was the sort of girl who made sure everyone felt included. She was like a mother hen; concerned that all her chicks were secure. Because her family had shifted a number of times, she knew how difficult it would be for Cindy to be accepted in her new school.

      "I wanted to come", Cindy answered, looking up at Lauren, "But I was grounded."

      "I heard about that", Lauren replied. "Anyway", she went on, "I have a piece of birthday cake for you, and a bag of lollies my mother wanted you to have."

      "Thank-you", Cindy responded, reaching for the package Lauren held out to her.

      Because Lauren was so open hearted, and concerned for those left on the sidelines, Cindy was even more disappointed that she had not be liable to be a Lauren's party. She suspected that Lauren would make a good friend. The trouble was, Lauren lived on the other side of town. [42]

      While these thoughts were going through Cindy's mind, she was interrupted by Belinda and Sue, who wondered why Cindy had not joined them in the playground. Anxious to continue their discussion about the party, they dragged Cindy and Lauren outside. The four girls sat together in a circle on the grass, occasionally squealing with delight, as some of the fun things that happened the previous evening were relived.

      The bell rang, and the girls made their way back to class. Walking back into the room, they noticed a stranger, a man they did not know, talking with the teacher. After the last student walked through the door, the teacher called for quiet.

      "Children", she began, "I would like to introduce you to Mr. Hall. He is what is called a local historian. He has written many books on local history, the history of towns like ours. I have asked him to come along this morning to talk to you about how you can get involved in local history. I am giving you a project. I would like you to select something in the town, a person, a family, a building, or an organisation, like a Church or the Country Fire Authority, and investigate it. Once you have learned all you can, I want you to write up, in a project book, all you have learned. This will be your major project for this term."

      At this point, Miss Blumenthal noticed that several students had raised their hands.

      "Yes Trent", she began, selecting the student closest to her, "You want to ask something?"

      "Yes, Miss", Trent, one of the brighter students in the class began, "How do we choose a topic?"

      "I have made out a list of possible topics. But first, I would like you all to think about what you would like to know more about. Later, after Mr. Hall has spoken to you, I will get you to talk together about what you would like to do. I don't want you to work on your own, but in groups of three or four. You can decide whom you would like to work with. If your group can't decide on a project, you can select one from my list. Anyway, we will save further questions for later. I would like to hand you [43] over now to Mr. Hall. He will tell you how you can gather information."

      Miss Blumenthal sat on the end of one of the small tables as Mr. Hall began.

      "Finding out about your town can be exciting. Many things happened in this town that you know nothing about. People like you grew up in the town, sometimes stayed here, and sometimes moved on. Their lives were full of adventure. Some were successful, and some were not. Some of these people still live in the town, others have moved on, and many have died.

      "If we are going to explore what happened in other people's lives, we must know where to begin. One of the best ways to start is to talk to older people. They have stories to tell that will amaze you. The world in which they grew up was very different from the one in which you live. When some of them were children there were no television sets, radios, or even motor cars. People rode horses. These horses pulled carts. There were no such things as computers, video games or Gameboys. This may be hard for you to believe. But that is how it was. Some of them fought in wars, others survived droughts that lasted for years. Some learned to survive when few had jobs. By talking to these older folk you will discover how they courageously survived difficult times."

      "In order to learn about what happened in the past, you are probably best to begin by seeking out one or two of the older people of the town and talking to them. Ask them to describe their childhood, to tell you how their world was different from the world in which you have grown up. Then talk to them about your project, about the type of information you're seeking. They may be able to help you. Or they may suggest you speak to someone else."

      "It will also be important for you to develop a time-line."

      Before Mr. Hall could continue, a hand shot up. The boy had been listening intently, and asked, "What is a time line, Sir?"

      "I'm glad you asked", Mr. Hall replied, gratified that the student had been listening. [44]

      "A "time line" is like a diagram, except that you use words, instead of drawings, though you can use drawings. A time line can be drawn across the top of your page, or down the side of the page. You mark on your time line when things happened." He went across to the white board and drew a line down the left- hand edge. He then drew smaller marks across this line, ten centimeters apart. As he was marking off these small lines, he explained, "Each of these little lines represents a ten year period. This is one way of making up a time line. It allows you to get a handle on when things happened, and to see a person, an organization, or the town itself, developing. It can also help you see how what was happening in the town related to what was happening in the rest of Australia, or even the world.

      "Let me illustrate this for you. During what is called the First World War, between 1914 and 1918, when armies were fighting each other in Europe, this town followed events very closely, because many boys from the town were over there doing the fighting. People back here, in the town, were raising money, making bandages, and writing letters to help make the lives of their boys more comfortable. Many of the young men, who fought in the war, lived for weeks, even months, in deep trenches in the ground. When it rained, water filled the trenches. The soldiers also had to cope with bugs and rats."

      Returning to the subject of the "time line", Mr. Hall went on,"This is not the only way of drawing a time line. Instead of marking off ten-year intervals, as they're called, you can add little lines, or arrows, across your time line to remind you of some important event. Instead of marking off ten-year periods, you concentrate on significant events." When you have put in your line, or arrow, write a brief summary of the event you are recording. Time lines help you see important events in relation to other events."

      "Once you have talked to the oldies, and set out your time line, you need to begin filling it in. In your school library you will find books that will tell you about the big events in the past. Your [45] parents should be able to help you with this. There will be lots of things they will be able to tell you about."

      "After you have done this, there are other interesting things you can do. You can look at old newspapers. They will give you lots of information. Reading newspapers, looking at a paragraph here, and a paragraph there, will also help you get the feel of what it was like living in a different time. It will probably feel strange at first. If they are available, and you are given permission to read them, you can look through old records, minute books, diaries. One of the most exciting things you will ever do is to read through old diaries, records people kept of things that were happening to them, and of their reaction to these things. Reading letters people wrote many years ago will take you back into their experiences. You will be able to imagine yourself living someone else's life.

      "There are many other things you can do, depending on your project. Miss Blumenthal will be able to help you with other resources. She can tell you where to find them."

      Aware that Mr. Hall had said all he was going to say, Miss Blumenthal, who was excited by Mr. Hall's talk, stood up.

      "Thank you Mr. Hall. What you have had to say to us today has been very helpful. I can see that some of the children have already begun thinking about what they will work on."

      Turning her attention to the children, she continued "I would like you to spend a few minutes thinking about a project. Decide on whom you would like to work with. After you have talked together about the project, come and see me. If you can't think of anything, I will help you find an interesting subject. You don't have to let others know what you are working on. It would be best to leave it a secret. You can surprise the rest of the class when it comes time to present your project. Until then, it is best to leave them guessing."

      Apart from a few students, who were distracted and doodling absent-mindedly on pieces of paper, most students had listened with rapt attention to Mr. Hall. By the end of his talk, some had not only decided on a project topic, but had begun to [46] think of ways of searching out the information they needed. The moment the teacher stopped speaking, the students broke into a buzz of conversation.

      Sue reached across and placed her hand on Cindy's wrist. Their eyes met. Smiles broke out on their faces. Both then turned towards the table where Belinda was seated. She was already looking at them, a mischievous grin lighting up her face. Tom Piggot, who had been silently observing their unspoken conversation, left the table where he was seated, and walked towards Cindy and Sue. When he reached them, he squatted down, and inquired, "Would you like to see that lizard again?"

      Looking back at him, Cindy, her eyes full of mischievous delight, answered,"We would love you to work with us on the project. It might be good to have a boy around!"

      The afternoon of the following day was set aside by the teacher to enable the students to begin preliminary work on their projects. She suggested they decide how they were going to proceed. They were permitted to leave the school grounds once they had talked to the teacher about their projects, and about the steps they would take to gather their material. If they did decide to leave the school grounds, they had to let the teacher know what they were doing, and when they intended returning. If she was satisfied they knew what they were doing, and she felt she could trust them, she let them go. They had to be back in the school grounds half–an-hour before school finished for the day.

      Several of the students, who were not interested in the project, decided they would take the afternoon off and go chasing ducks in the local creek. However, as they were attempting to leave, without having spoken to Miss Blumenthal, they were pulled up by a voice that called out to them, "And where do you think you're going?"

      Realising they had been caught, they tried to lie their way out of their predicament. One of them, Bob Blunt, whined. "We were going to the toilet, Miss!"

      "If you need to go to the toilet, go. But be back here in five minutes." [47]

      The three boys hurried off to the toilets, their shoulders slumped. Their disappointment was also obvious in their walk.

      Cindy, Sue, Belinda and Tom, who had been talking excitedly about their project, seeing that the teacher was free, hurried over to where she was standing. They began talking to her, excitedly, in whispers.

      "You would like to explore the history of that old house on Bennett St!", Miss Blumenthal responded, in a subdued voice. She did not want to give their secret away. She did not need them to reply because she could read the excitement in their eyes, as they nodded in unison.

      "I think that's a great idea", Miss Blumenthal said, and then went on, "Perhaps you should explore the house this afternoon. Make a pencil sketch of it, and of the gardens. But be careful. The building is not in a good state of repair. Watch where you walk, so that you don't injure yourselves."

      "We will be careful", Tom assured her.

      One of the biggest difficulties the children faced was avoiding Lisa Carbonelli and her friends. The last thing they wanted Lisa to discover was that her clubhouse was their project.

      When Miss Blumenthal's attention was drawn to another group of students, who had begun to cluster around her, the four conspirators walked into the passageway outside the classroom to talk together about how they could prevent Lisa knowing what they were doing.

      The four were huddled together, when they heard Lisa's voice. She was leaving the classroom with three of her friends. She looked as if she had received the most exciting news imaginable.

      "We are a going to study the Jenks, the oldest and best-known family in the district", she announced, in a voice loud enough to indicate that she wanted as many as possible of her fellow students to hear what she and her group were planning to do. So far as she was concerned, hers was the most important project in the class. She also wanted the other girls in the class to [47] know that she had placed her mark on Brian Jenks. He was hers. If other girls became friendly with him, they did so at their peril.

      Tom had a twinkle in his eye as he looked around at Sue, Belinda, and Cindy. He was sure they would be safe from detection visiting the house this afternoon.

      It took the four of them no more than 15 minutes to reach "The Place." They pushed open the front gate, lifted several of the blackberry canes aside, pushed their way through the bushes and approached the side of the old building. They decided that this time they would enter through the front door, rather than through the side porch.

      As she was walking up the front steps, Sue trod on a section of one of the wooden steps that began to give way under her. She went to grab the side rail. It was rotten and pulled away from its supports. She fell back. Fortunately for her, Tom was beside her. He over-balanced, landing on his bottom on the top step. Sue landed on his lap, much to her embarrassment.

      Flushing a bright pink, she said, "Ohh, I'm sorry."

      Tom, who had been winded, after recovering his breath, responded, "That's OK. It looks like we really will have to be careful."

      The front door was not locked. It had an old lock that needed a key, but there was no key was to be seen. Cindy pushed open the door, and peered inside. It was dark. Old blankets were nailed above several of the windows to keep out the light. It was easy to see why Lisa Carbonelli and her friends needed candles. Belinda, who was the last to enter, left the door slightly ajar, to give them a little light. The children didn't want to leave the door open. That would let others know that someone was inside. If Lisa and her crew decided to visit the house that afternoon, they would not become suspicions. If she did visit, they were sure they would hear her noisy chatter, and her footsteps, and those of her friends, on the front steps. This should allow them time enough to sneak out to the kitchen and escape out through the kitchen door. [49]

      It took the children several minutes to get used to the darkness. Then they began to see things more clearly. Once their eyes became used to the dark, they began exploring the house, going from room to room. Here and there, they could see floorboards that were weak, or partially missing. They carefully worked out where they would tread, particularly in the bedrooms, where the floor was in a poor state of repair. Dust lay everywhere, and cobwebs dangled from the ceiling. Tom had a notebook with him, and drew a floor plan of the house.

      Suddenly they heard voices, several voices. They came from outside the house. The girls retreated, on their tip-toes, to the lounge. They hid behind an old sofa that had been pushed close to one of the side walls. It was little more than a skeleton, wooden supports and pieces of cloth. Tom crept into the kitchen, and crawled on its hands and knees towards the side wall. There was a hole in one of the floorboards where a knot had fallen out. He put his ear to the hole. He heard several male voices.

      "Look at that!"

      "A lizard. A blue tongue!"

      There was silence for a few months. Then the sound of metal falling to the ground.

      Tom heard footsteps walking away from the house, towards the front gate.

      "Let's go down the creek", one of the boys was saying, "Let's see if the ducks are still there."

      Tom waited several minutes, and then, convinced that the boys had left, pushed himself to his feet and walked through to the lounge room.

      "It's all clear", he said.

      Three heads appeared over the old couch. Gradually, the girls got to their feet, and walked over to where Tom was standing.

      Belinda, when her heart had resumed its normal rhythms, finally commented, "That was close."

      "It sure was", Sue responded. [50]

      Cindy, who had been the least concerned of the three girls, nevertheless looked relieved. "It might be an idea if we sit down and talk about what we do next. We will need to tell Miss Blumenthal about our plans."

      "This house feels strange", Sue commented.

      "It does feel a little eerie", Belinda responded, "It's like we're not the only ones here."

      "I feel the same", said Tom, "It's almost as if the things that have happened in this house, the feelings particularly, have been absorbed into the walls. And now they're coming out. Perhaps, it is because we are quiet that we notice them."

      "Maybe we can learn something about the house if we sit quietly with the feelings we are experiencing", Cindy suggested.

      The four young people remembered how they felt on the day they observed Lisa and her friends dancing.

      "Let's say nothing for five minutes", Cindy went on, "and see what happens."

      "Sounds a good idea", Tom replied.

      Five minutes seemed a long time. At the end of the time the children looked up at each other. The feelings they had experienced had grown stronger, though they noticed nothing exceptional.

      Cindy, who was still lost in thought, gradually lifted her eyes from the floor. As she did so, she thought she saw something on the wall opposite. A filmy pattern began to form. The others, arrested by her intensity, looked in the direction in which she was gazing. As she continued focusing on the wall, she saw something emerge that reminded her of one of the figures she had seen in her dream the previous night. She saw, faintly visible, two, dark brown eyes, fall of warmth and love, looking directly at her. A dark face formed around the eyes, and then the top part of the body became visible. It was old, leathery, and very dark. The eyes were smiling. After a while, the eyes, the face, and the body began to disappear, like mist.

      The children scarcely breathed as they gazed on this apparition. They were scared. But they also felt a strange warmth. [51] It was as if there was a deep love wrapping itself around them. It held them, embraced them. They remained silent for a few minutes, unable to speak. Suddenly, Tom, looking down at his watch, exclaimed, "We should be getting back to school. We'll have to hurry."

      The children closed the front door, and walked carefully down the steps. As they picked their way along the side of the house, Tom urged, "One last look." He squatted down, lifted the piece of corrugated iron, and there, where they had found it before, was the blue tongue lizard. Only this time it was not alone. There were tiny, baby lizards crawling around it.

      "Look at that!", Tom exclaimed.

      In his excitement, Tom threw his body back, knocking Belinda off balance. Belinda fell backwards. As the others watched, horrified, she disappeared into the ground, sticks and leaves falling in on top of her. The others got on their knees, and peered down at her. She looked to be in state of shock. But she was safe. And she appeared to be unharmed. She had fallen into a hole that they hadn't noticed as it had been covered by branches, leaves and other debris. Tom reached down, taking hold of an arm. He pulled her from the hole. Once she was on firm ground, she noticed she was clutching something in her hand. She must have grabbed onto it as she fell. It was a large stone that fitted neatly into her hand, as if it was made for it. One end of the stone flared out. It was sharpened on both sides, probably from rubbing. It looked like the edge of a primitive axe. Belinda was about to throw it back in the hole, when Cindy shouted, "Wait. Let's have a look at that."

      The four stood around observing the stone. They wondered what it could be?

      "Let's take it with us, and ask Miss Blumenthal whether she knows what it is", Cindy suggested.

      "Look at the time", Tom said, in alarm, "We had better hurry.

      The four investigators were out of breath when they arrived back at school. Miss Blumenthal was counting the late [52] comers. The bell was already ringing when the last groups straggled in. Happy that nothing had gone amiss that afternoon, Miss Blumenthal dismissed the class, and told them that she would talk to them the next morning about what they had discovered. [53]

Chapter 6

      It was Tom who carried the stone back to school. He placed it inside his shirt, so that others would not see it. When the class was dismissed for the day, he took the stone home. He cleaned it up, washing it under the tap. Once it had been washed, and dried, with an old cloth, he could see quite clearly that it had been sharpened at one end. He saw the signs of the sharpening. It was a hard stone, and a heavy stone, which had obviously been used for cutting or chopping things.

      After he cleaned and wiped it again, Tom wrapped it in old newspaper, and placed it in the front pocket of his schoolbag. He took it with him when he rode to school the next morning. He arrived early. Miss Blumenthal was in the class, but no-one else. The other students hadn't arrived. Tom walked up to Miss Blumenthal, opened his schoolbag, and took out the stone.

      "We found this yesterday. We don't want the others to see it. But we would like to know what it is?", Tom began, unwrapping the newspaper.

      Miss Blumenthal looked down at the stone, and her eyes lit up. "What have we here?", she began. She reached down, and took hold of the stone. "This is most interesting", she said, "This was most probably made by the Aboriginal tribe that used to live in this area. It looks like a stone axe. Where did you find it?"

      "In the ruins of the old place we went to look at yesterday", Tom explained. "Belinda fell into a hole. This stone was at the bottom of the hole."

      "Mr. Hall will be most interested in your find!", Miss Blumenthal commented, excitedly. She paused for a moment to think, and then went on, "If you like, I can show it to Mr. Hall. He will be very careful with it. If he doesn't know what it is, he has a friend who is an anthropologist, someone who studies ancient peoples and cultures, who will know."

      Tom did not want to let the stone out of his possession, and took a moment to reply. "I guess you can", he began, "We certainly want to know what it is." [54]

      "We will take care of it, and return it to you," Miss Blumenthal assured him.

      "Okay", Tom responded.

      The teacher re-wrapped the stone in the newspaper, took it to her desk, putting it in her bag.

      Tom wandered out of the classroom so that he could catch up with the girls when they arrived. Belinda was the first to walk through the gate. He took her aside, explaining what had happened to the stone. Shortly afterwards, Cindy and Sue walked together into the playground. They were so involved in their conversation that they did not notice Tom and Belinda waiting for them.

      "Cindy! Sue!", Belinda called out.

      Tom and Belinda walked towards their friends.

      "I just wanted to explain what happened to the stone", Tom began, "I showed it to Miss Blumenthal, and she asked if she could show it to Mr. Hall. She sounded excited. I let her have it. She promised to get it back to us as soon as she could. I did not want to give it up, but we should have it back shortly."

      "That's OK", Cindy responded, "I would have done the same. We need to know what it is, and I'm sure Miss Blumenthal will be careful with it."

      Other children were beginning to pour through the gate, and make their way towards their classrooms. Deciding that they had better do the same, Cindy, Sue, Belinda and Tom began ambling towards their classroom. They entered the school building, and were walking down the corridor when they heard a familiar voice behind them. It was Lisa Carbonelli.

      "We spent the afternoon at the Jenks house", she was explaining to one of the students, "And do you know what?"

      "No!", the other student responded.

      "The Jenks are the oldest family in this area, and the wealthiest. You should have seen their house. They call it "Jenks Station." They own miles and miles of land and have lots of people working for them. They mostly have sheep. But they also have racehorses." [55]

      "Racehorses!"

      "Yes, racecourses. Can you believe it? Mr. Jenks told me that they breed the racehorses, and race them. Sometimes they win!"

      "Hmm", the girl responded, indicating that she did not necessarily want to hear any more. It was obvious that Lisa was big-noting herself again. There would be no surprises when Lisa came to present her project.

      Miss Blumenthal spent the early part of the morning introducing students to fractions. Some had difficulty understanding what she was talking about. Cindy was entranced. She picked new concepts up easily. While other children were working away on simple examples that Miss. Blumenthal gave them, Cindy, who quickly completed these, set herself more difficult problems. Miss Blumenthal could see that Cindy was enjoying the work. So too could Lisa Carbonelli, who was watching her intently. She knew that the teacher was pleased with Cindy, and this galled her.

      Miss Blumenthal was aware that many students struggled to understand fractions. Some failed to grasp what they were about. Others caught on quickly, and enjoyed playing with them. Because so many of the children were having difficulty, she decided to give the class a ten-minute break.

      When she called the children to order, after the ten minutes were over, she told them that she would now test them on spelling. She had distributed, several days previously, a list of words. This test was one of a number of tests that would determine who would win the spelling prize at the end of the year.

      Cindy knew she had a good chance of winning. Because she loved reading, spelling came easily. She was familiar with many words because she came across them in her reading. She did not always get them right, when she was tested by the teacher, or her mother. But she mostly did. Although the rest of the class suspected she was bright, she went out of her way to hide her ability. [56]

      Cindy decided, after the first day at her new school, when Lisa had been so nasty, that she would not answer questions the teacher asked the class. She did, however, answer questions the teacher directed to her. It would have been rude not to do so. She was aware that she knew most of the answers, but did not want to be thought a know-all. She particularly wanted to avoid becoming the target of the Lisa's spite. Lisa was not prepared to take second place to anyone. She liked to be thought the most attractive, the brightest, and the most exciting girl in the class.

      "I am going to hand you each several sheets of writing paper", Miss Blumenthal began. "I would like you to write your answers on this paper. I will collect and correct them. After I had corrected them, I will hand them back to you, and you can paste them in your work-books. Before I hand the sheets out, I want you to put away the list of words I handed out the other day. I don't want anyone cheating. If I find that someone has cheated, they will not receive any marks for their work. I will be very disappointed in them."

      Before she had finished speaking, Lisa Carbonelli's hand shot up.

      "Can I hand the paper out for you, Miss", Lisa asked, an uncharacteristically demure look on her face.

      The teacher, who had been caught off guard, recovering quickly, answering, "Ahh, yes. Thank you, Lisa."

      Miss Blumenthal handed the paper to Lisa, and walked back to her desk. Lisa began handing out several pages of ruled paper to each student. Tom Piggot, who, for some reason, found himself suspicious of Lisa's motives, kept a close eye on her. A smile was playing around her mouth. It was not a happy smile, but the smile of someone planning something dastardly.

      Lisa had her back to Tom when she handed paper to those on Cindy's table. What he did not see was that Lisa had slipped her word list under the two pages she handed Cindy. It was the same size as the blank sheets, and was not noticed.

      After Lisa resumed her seat, Miss Blumenthal asked the class to take up their pencils. She began calling out the words, [57] and asking students to write them down. Cindy had no difficulty with the words. Compared with other words she had come across in her reading, these were relatively simple. She had not had to learn them. She had picked them up through her reading.

      After the teacher finished calling out the words, she asked the children to place their names on the top right-hand corner of each page. After they completed this task, she told them to place their pencils on their tables.

      "Please Miss, my I collect the papers?", one of Lisa's close friends asked. As Tania had never much liked schoolwork, the teacher found herself, once again, taken by surprise. Tom became suspicious.

      As Tania approached Cindy's table, she collected up the papers of her three companions, and then reached for Cindy's work. As she did so, her fingers began playing with the pages. She finally pulled away from the bottom page one of the lists of words the teachers had given the class.

      "Look, Miss", she said, holding the printed list of words up to the teacher, "She cheated!"

      "Cheated?"

      "Yes, cheated!", Tania insisted, "Look, here is the list of words. She cheated!"

      "Did you cheat, Cindy?", the teacher asked, looking directly at Cindy, but finding it hard to believe that she had done what she was being accused of.

      "I didn't cheat, Miss", Cindy responded, still unable to believe what was happening. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes, tears of anger as much as shame.

      "I can't believe you cheated", the teacher said, as much to herself as to Cindy.

      "I didn't cheat", Cindy insisted, as tears began to fall down her cheeks.

      Tom, who had closely observed the whole event, suspected that Cindy had been set up. Sue and Belinda ached for their friend. Like Tom, they could not believe the she had done what she was being accused of. [58]

      Miss Blumenthal was deciding how she should respond when the lunch bell rang. She dismissed the class, but asked Cindy to remain behind. Tom, Belinda and Sue left the room, but waited in the corridor outside, hoping to hear what was said.

      "Cindy, I can't believe you did this!", Miss Blumenthal began. There was not anger, but puzzlement in her eyes.

      "But I didn't do it", Cindy insisted, with a strength in her voice that was not characteristic of her, "I didn't do it."

      The teacher, who had been standing, rested back against her desk. She was thinking. Cindy stood, looking up at the teacher, her eyes pleading her innocence.

      Miss Blumenthal was silent for a moment. She then looked down at Cindy, and asked, "Hand me your papers."

      Cindy was still clutching her work in her left-hand. She handed to the teacher the two pages on which she had written her answers. Miss Blumenthal turned the pages over, and looked carefully at the back of the second page. She noticed several tiny pieces of blue-tack on three of the corners. She then picked up from her table the word list Tania had held in the air, when announcing that Cindy had cheated. There, on the back of this page, were several grease spots. When the teacher placed the two pieces of paper back to back, she could see where they had been pressed together. Because the printed sheet faced the table, Cindy had not noticed it. Nor was she aware that she had been handed an extra sheet.

      As Cindy watched what the teacher was doing, she gradually relaxed. Her heartbeat settled down, and her breathing relaxed. Her body lost some of its tension. Her mind, which had been frozen, began working again. She had a sudden inspiration. She ran back to her desk, picked up her school bag, opened the flap, and took out her word list. She ran back to the teacher, who was still lost in thought, and held it up before her.

      "Look, Miss Blumenthal", she pleaded, "Here is my word list." Pointing to the word list the teacher was still holding, she continued, "That one's not mine!" [59]

      "I can see that", the teacher and said, gently, "But someone wanted to make it appear that you had cheated."

      Miss Blumenthal was certain she knew who had done this, but there was no way of being sure. She would have to wait until the students concerned became bolder in their attempts to discredit Cindy. If she gave them the opportunity of striking again, she may be able to catch the culprits.

      The teacher looked down at Cindy, and began, "I don't want you to say anything about this to anyone, Cindy. I realise you didn't cheat. You are the victim of someone's spite. We both have an idea of who that might be. But we don't know for sure. Let us keep this a secret. Something like it is sure to happen again. When it does, we may be able to catch, red handed, those who want to discredit you. Off you go now, and have your lunch. I am sure your friends will be waiting for you."

      Belinda, Sue, and Tom, who had been waiting in the corridor, and had only heard snatches of conversation, surrounded Cindy as she walked out of the classroom.

      "What happened?", Belinda asked, as she threw an arm around Cindy shoulder.

      "You couldn't have done it", Sue cut in.

      "She didn't", Tom stated firmly, without a flicker of hesitation. Lisa Carbonelli and her friends worked out their scheme in the break between the factions and the test. Lisa couldn't stand Cindy doing so well with fractions, when she couldn't understand them."

      "I didn't cheat", Cindy said, "And the teacher knows I didn't cheat. But that is all I am able to say."

      "We knew you didn't do it", Belinda assured her.

      "I think Tom might be right", Sue added, "I'm sure it was Lisa and her friends."

      "We will have to watch them more carefully", Tom said, stubbing the toe of his right shoe into the cement floor of the corridor. [60]

      The four friends walked together towards the door that led to the playground. They filed through, found a bench unoccupied, and sat together to eat their lunch. [61]

Chapter 7

      Several weeks after Tom handed the rock to Miss Blumenthal, she drew him side, as the others were going to the playground for their mid-morning break. She waited until everyone else had left, and then reached into her bag, and drew out a large padded post-bag. She opened the post-bag and pulled out the stone. It was inside a plastic envelope.

      "I am returning the stone to you, Tom", she began, "Take care of it. Mr. Hall showed it to a friend of his at the University of New England, an archaeologist, who is interested in Aboriginal tribes that inhabited this land before the coming of the white man. He explained that this was a cutting implement, an axe, designed to be held in the hand. It was sometimes used for butchering animals, like kangaroos and possums, that the Aborigines caught and ate."

      "Yuck!", Tom explained, "They killed kangaroos, and possums?"

      "I guess this is no different from our eating sheep or cattle", Miss Blumenthal explained.

      "I guess not", Tom responded, "My father sometimes kills sheep, and then hangs them up so that the blood can drain away. I have also seen him kill chooks. I suppose it's just that it is hard to think of people eating native animals."

      "Actually, kangaroo, and even emu, is rather tasty", Miss Blumenthal went on, "Though it does seem strange that we should be eating the animals that are our national emblems."

      "I suppose when you put it that way", Tom went on, "there is no difference between eating lamb, beef, or pork, and eating kangaroo or possum."

      "When the Aborigines roamed this land, before the white man came, they did not have a lot of choice about what they ate. The animals we raise on farms today were imported from other countries. Native animals, like kangaroos and possums, were all they had." [62]

      Noting that time was getting away, Miss Blumenthal returned the conversation to the matter of the stone axe. "Mr. Hall's friend, the archaeologist, believes that this stone axe may have belonged to a very ancient Aboriginal tribe. The archaeologist spoke to a colleague of his the University, who is interested in the ancient geography of Australia, and told him where the axe was found. What they discovered was that the place you found the axe, in the grounds of that old home, was part of an ancient creek bed running through that area. The creek was used by several Aboriginal tribes that roamed this part of New South Wales. The archaeologist suspects we may find more tools like the axe in the area. Mr. Hall and his archaeologist friend are making further inquiries. They are also seeking permission, from the owners of the land, and from the government, to excavate the area to see whether they can find anything else there. The owners live in Queensland, so it may be some time before they get the permission they need. But they are excited. And so am I."

      Tom was fascinated by what Miss Blumenthal had been saying. He realised they had stumbled across something that could turn out to be very important. He could not wait to tell the others. He was interested to know more, but before he could question Miss Blumenthal further, the bell rang. Children began filing back into the room, some dragging their feet.

      Turning to Tom, Miss Blumenthal said, quickly, and quietly, "Let's keep this to ourselves. You can tell your friends, the ones working with you on the project, but keep it to yourselves. There is no point getting everyone excited before we know what's happening."

      "We won't whisper a word to anyone", Tom assured her, "After all, we don't want others knowing about our project."

      Miss Blumenthal went to turn away, when she had another thought. She squatted down, so that she could talk to Tom without anyone else hearing.

      "I understand there is an old Aboriginal woman in a nursing home on Murphy Street", she said, "It might be a good [63] idea to talk to her. She may know something that will help you with your project. I think you would also enjoy talking to her."

      Tom couldn't wait till the lunch break to tell the others the news. He was so distracted during the session on fractions that he did not hear Mr. Blumenthal asking a question. It took him several seconds to register that the teacher had spoken to him. Realising he had not been listening, and suspecting why, the teacher asked the question a second time. He was able to answer immediately, as he was having fun with fractions. They came easily to him.

      During the lunch break, as they were sitting on a bench in an area of the playground separated from the popular activity areas, Tom filled the others in on what Miss Blumenthal had said. In his excitement, words came tumbling out, and the girls often had to ask him to repeat himself. By the time he had finished relaying the news, they were all infected with his enthusiasm.

      Before they had time to develop further plans, Lisa Carbonelli and her friends, whose approach had been disguised by a clump of bushes, burst in upon them.

      "And what are you doing for your project", Lisa asked, in a voice that suggested she wasn't really interested in their reply. Without waiting for a response, she went on, "We are studying the Jenks dynasty."

      "Dynasty! What is a dynasty?", Belinda asked, half absent mindedly, thrown by a word she had not heard before.

      "A dynasty is an important family", Lisa replied emphatically, "We are studying the most important family in this area. Brian's family! We found out that one of their racehorses just missed out on winning the Melbourne cup!"

      "Really", said Belinda, raising her eyebrows and rolling her eyes towards the top of her head, as if to say "So what!"

      Lisa, having made her announcement, lifted her nose into the air and trounced off, her followers spread out behind her like carriages in a train. When Tom, Sue, Belinda, and Cindy were sure that the Queen Bee and her drones were far enough away, they began discussing what they needed to do next. [64]

      "We should speak to the old Aboriginal woman", Cindy began, "But we will need to call at the nursing home to see whether she will see us."

      "We can do that this afternoon", Belinda suggested, "It is not much out of our way."

      "I have something for you", Tom said, reaching into his trouser pocket, and pulling out a bundle of papers, "I made copies of my drawings of the house. We can take these with us when we visit the house again, and write on them things we find out."

      "This is exciting", Sue said, hardly able to contain her enthusiasm.

      "I spoke to my father the other night about what we were doing", Tom continued, "and he suggested that we see if we can discover the title to the house."

      "What's a title?", Belinda asked, looking a little puzzled.

      "My father explained that it was a document, a large piece of paper that has a drawing of the land and house on it. He says you can tell who owned the land, and when they owned it, from the title. It can also tell you when the building was built, or when it was added to. This way we can work out who lived in the house, and when. It lists all those who bought and sold it."

      "Can we get this title?" Cindy asked.

      "My father said he will help us. He will find out if we can get a copy of the title to "The Place." He will explain what we want it for."

      "Another thing we could do", Belinda suggested, "Is to see if anyone has any old newspapers we can look up. Maybe the library has something."

      "This is getting more exciting every minute", Sue said.

      The bell rang for the beginning of afternoon classes. The four young people found it hard to concentrate. The minds were elsewhere. When they were dismissed at the end of the afternoon session, Tom, Sue, Belinda, and Cindy gathered at the front gate for final instructions. Tom set off on his bike, and the others made their way on foot to the nursing home. When they arrived, they [65] found Tom's bike leaning against the front fence. He was waiting for them in the grounds of the home. As the four young people approached the glass entrance doors, they opened and they entered. They found themselves in a spacious area. In front of them was a curved counter. Behind the counter two women were busily occupied. One was answering a call on the telephone. The other was shuffling papers on the desk, looking a little puzzled.

      Cindy, Tom, Sue and Belinda stood in front of the counter. When the woman who was looking through the pile of papers became aware that they were there, she looked up, and smiled at them. What she saw were four, eager, apprehensive faces sticking up over the counter, which was so high it hid their bodies.

      "And what can I do for four lost children?", she asked, smiling broadly.

      "We were wondering", Cindy began, rather nervously, "Whether we would be able to speak to Mrs. Burns sometime?"

      "And what did you want to speak to Mrs. Burns about?", the lady asked.

      "We would like to talk to her about her life", Cindy continued, "And about the Aboriginal tribes that lived in this area."

      "I am sure she will be happy to speak to you", the lady replied, "I will have to speak to her first. She will be surprised that four young people want to talk to her about her life and her people."

      The lady stood up, and excused herself. She set off down a long corridor, and then disappeared into one of the side doors. After a few moments she returned. She looked pleased. "She would love to talk to you. She is not able to see you at the moment. If you could come tomorrow afternoon, she will be free."

      The children thanked the lady, and assured her that they would be back the following afternoon. They excused themselves, and disappeared through the front door, chatting excitedly to each other as they walked through the front gate. Tom picked up [66] his bike, swung his leg over the crossbar, lowering himself onto the seat. "See you tomorrow", he said, as he pushed off.

      The three girls set off for home. They could hardly wait for tomorrow.

      The next morning Sue woke early. She was a late riser, and her father would often have to wake her several times before she finally got out of bed. On this morning, he heard her showering in the bathroom before he was fully awake. Sue's father got out of bed, pulled on his dressing gown, tightened the chord around his waist, and walked towards the bathroom. The door was closed.

      "Are you OK, Sue?", her father asked.

      "I'm fine", Sue replied over the noise of the shower and the exhaust fan.

      "This is most unlike you", her father replied, raising his voice a fraction so that it could be heard above the noise in the room.

      Sue's father walked into the kitchen, where he began preparing breakfast, and laying out bread for sandwiches for Sue's lunch.

      Several minutes later, Sue wandered into the kitchen. She had dried herself and pulled on her dressing gown. Her hair was tied up in a towel. She walked to where her father was standing, observing the fillings he was preparing for the sandwiches.

      "We are working on our project today", she began.

      "You are taking this project very seriously", her father replied, "It is good to see you so involved. I can't remember you being up this early before. You gave me a surprise. I thought you must be unwell!"

      Later, as she was making her way to school, Sue began to think it would be good idea if the four young people, who were working on this project, could come up with a name for themselves. Something special. As she neared the school, Sue saw Cindy ahead of her. She ran to catch up with her. When she recovered her breath, she said, "I think we should call ourselves something." [67]

      "Call ourselves something?", Cindy responded, a quizzical look on her face.

      "Yes. The four of us. We should work out a name. I heard the other day, from Jill Trembath, that Lisa Carbonelli called her group "The Vampires." We should call ourselves something. It can be a secret name. Something that only we know about. That will make it special."

      Cindy remained silent for a while. They had reached the gate leading into the school grounds. Cindy pushed it open and the two girls walked towards the classroom.

      "Yes", Cindy reflected, "I think that's a great idea. Let's think about it during the morning, and discuss it at lunchtime."

      "Neither Tom, Cindy, Sue, or Belinda was able to concentrate much on their lessons during the early part of the morning. At the mid-morning break, Sue caught up with Belinda and Tom, and told them about Sue's idea. They promised to think of possible names. They could hardly wait to discuss the idea with the others during lunch.

      When the children spilled out into the playground at lunchtime, Belinda, Sue, Tom, and Cindy took off for their favourite bench. Cindy and Belinda spread out their lunch on the wooden planks of the seat. Sue sat on the ground. Tom perched himself on a rock.

      "What we need is a name for ourselves", Sue began, "Have any of you thought about possible names?"

      "We could call ourselves "The Secret Society", Belinda suggested, half-heartedly.

      "Maybe we could call ourselves 'The Ghosts,'" Sue piped up, remembering what they had seen on the two occasions they visited the house.

      "Still doesn't seem right", Tom reflected, "Maybe we could call ourselves "The Axe People"! After a brief pause, he continued, "No! Doesn't sound right either."

      "What about you, Cindy?", Belinda asked, "It was your idea to make the old house our project." [68]

      "I am finding it hard to come up with a name", Cindy confessed.

      "I know! I know what we can call ourselves", Tom cut in. He had been silent for a while, lost in thought. "Cindy got us started on this project", he said, thinking his way through to an answer, "The name should have something to do with Cindy."

      "No!", replied Cindy, emphatically, "I don't want my name in it. It is a project that we are all working on. Maybe we should just call ourselves 'The Group.'"

      "I've got it!", Tom exclaimed. He motioned to the others to gather close together. When they were huddled close, he whispered, "We can call ourselves 'The Syndicate!'"

      "The Syndicate!", Sue responded, puzzlement written all over her face, "What's a syndicate!"

      "My father was talking about a syndicate the other night", Tom began, "He told me a syndicate is the group of people that get together to do something. They work together. Each contributes something."

      "That's what we're doing", Belinda reflected, "We're working together on a project. We're helping each other. Each one of us is doing a little bit. We are a syndicate."

      They all began to murmur approval. Cindy had not said much. She was still thinking. They were waiting for her response. She had been drawing in the ground with a stick. After a while, she looked up. A smile broke out over her face. "That's a good name. Not many people will know what it means. But we will. Yes, let's call ourselves "The Syndicate." But it must be a our secret."

      That afternoon was given over to sport. Ball games had been organised at the oval. Tom, Cindy, Sue, and Belinda threw themselves into the games, enjoying themselves immensely. Time passed quickly. They were dismissed an hour earlier than normal. The early dismissal was to allow students, who lived at a distance from the school, to reach their homes at the time their parents normally expected them. This early finish to the day was [69] welcomed by "The Syndicate", who were looking forward to their visit to the nursing home.

      The girls set off as soon as the games finished. Tom remained with a few friends, who were competing with each other to see who could kick the football highest and furthest. After a time, Tom excused himself, jumped on his bike, and began peddling hard towards the nursing home. He caught up with the girls, just as they were entering the front gate. He dropped his bike on the footpath and ran to join them at the front doors, which opened to admit them to the reception area.

      The children felt more confident than they had the other day, when they had been overcome by the strangeness of the building, the size of the entrance area, and quiet atmosphere in the home. The lady they had spoken to the previous afternoon was keeping an eye out for them. She saw them enter through the glass doors and called out to them.

      "I was wondering when you were coming", she began," Mrs. Burns has been waiting for you. She has been looking forward to your visit."

      The children smiled, acknowledged the welcome, and followed the lady down the corridor. She stood at the doorway to Mrs. Burns' room. "I have some guests for you, Mrs. Burns", she said, "I told them you were looking forward to seeing them."

      Their new-found friend motioned to the children to enter the room. Cindy was the first to walk through the door. Her steps were cautious, respectful. She was followed by the others. The lady from reception disappeared, returning to her post at the front desk.

      A bed occupied most of the room. An old lady with dark brown eyes, and wrinkly skin the colour of dark chocolate, was sitting in a chair by the window. Her body was wrapped in a red dressing gown. She didn't say much for a while, and the children felt they were being looked over. Though the children were more used to chatter then silence, the silence in the room did not seem to worry them. It was a warm silence, full of energy and love. [70]

      "You have come to talk to me", the old lady began, breaking the silence, "You want to talk to me about my life."

      "Yes, we do", Tom began, speaking for the others, "We would like to know something about you."

      As Tom was talking, the others noticed large objects hanging from one of the walls of Mrs. Burns' room. Realising they were distracted by the objects, Mrs. Burns asked, "Would you like to know what they are?"

      Taking a moment to recover from the realization that she had read their minds, Belinda said, "Yes. We would. I notice that some of them have wonderful designs on them. They seem to be cut into the wood."

      "These objects", Mrs. Burns continued, "Will tell you something about my people." She cast her eye around the room. "You see that long stick over there. See how the end has been made into a point. That is a spear. My people made it many years ago. If you look closely at the point you will see that another tiny piece of wood has been bound to the end where it has been sharpened. Some spears could be easily removed. But that one couldn't. It was meant to remain in the animal it was thrown at. Other spears, without that extra little piece of wood, could be easily removed and used again. That one was a special spear. Spears were used to kill animals for eating. Sometimes they were used to punish people who had done wrong. At other times, they were used against white men who were taking their land."

      "It's a long spear", Tom remarked, "It must have taken a lot of force to throw it."

      "It did", but Mrs. Burns replied, "It would be a bit big for you to manage."

      "Did your people spear kangaroos and possums?", Belinda asked, remembering an earlier conversation.

      "Yes, they did", Mrs. Burns said, "Those animals were part of their food. Of course, they ate other things as well - nuts, berries, witchety grubs. My People lived for a long time in this country. They knew where to find food - food whites didn't see. We knew where to find bush tucker." [71]

      "Could the people who threw the spears throw them fast?", Tom asked, eager to return to the subject of spears.

      "They could throw them very fast", Mrs. Burns replied. Pointing to another wooden article hanging near the spear, she said, "See that piece of wood shaped like a baseball bat. That's a woomera. One end is very narrow, and has a knob on it. That knob is made from the sap of a tree. At the opposite end, the woomera comes to a point. It has a little wooden hook in it. That hook fits into the end of the spear. When a hunter used the woomera, he would extend his arm as far as he could. The woomera gave his arm extra length. When he threw the spear with the woomera it went faster through the air, and further."

      "We have a boomerang at home", Sue commented, "My father told me that the Aborigines used the boomerang to kill animals."

      "They did", Mrs. Burns replied, "Sometimes they used the spear, and sometimes they used the boomerang. It depended on where the animal was, and what sort of animal they were hunting. It depended also on where their weapons were, and which weapon was closest. My people travelled around a lot. They didn't carry much with them. They would often make new weapons when they moved to new places."

      "The other wooden thing next to the woomera must be the shield?", Tom suggested, tentatively.

      "You are a clever boy!", Mrs. Burns responded, warmly, "See the handle. You'll notice that the wood is thick, and strong. The shield could protect you from spears that might be thrown at you."

      "And what is that other piece of wood, at the other end of the wall?", Cindy asked, "The long thing with the large carved knob on the end?"

      "That is a wooden club", Mrs. Burns explained, "Like all Aboriginal weapons, it is decorated with beautiful carving. I am sure you have seen traditional Aboriginal painting, made up of lines, dots, circles, sometimes in the shape of animals. We tell our [72] stories with our carving, our drawing, our painting. That club tells a story."

      Sue had not been interested in spears, woomeras, shields, or clubs. Her attention was on another wooden object. It was on a small sideboard. It was about fifty centimeters long, its sides were rounded, and it looked as if it had been carved out of the side of a tree. "You are wondering what that is?", Mrs. Burns asked Sue.

      "Yes, I was", Sue responded, "It is lovely, whatever it is!"

      "That was for carrying food. Sometimes it was used to carry babies. The sides stopped the food, or the baby falling out."

      While the other children had been excited about the wooden objects hanging on the wall of Mrs. Bern's small room, Cindy's mind had been elsewhere. A lull in the conversation gave her the chance to ask the question she was really interested in.

      "Mrs. Burns", she began, "I would love to know something about you, about your life. How was life for you when you were young? Where did you live? Where did you grow up? Did you go to school? Can you tell us something about yourself?"

      Mrs. Burns was quiet for a moment. She closed her eyes, squeezed them together, and when she opened them again they were moist. One small tear escaped, and ran down her cheek.

      "There is not much to tell", she began, "When I was a small girl, my family, along with other Aboriginal families, lived along the creek on the edge of town. White people didn't want us in the town. My father began drinking, so my mother told me, and fell into the creek. It was flooded, and he died. When I was a young child white people came and took my brother and me away. A long way away. They put us in a boarding house for Aboriginal children. Many of us were half-castes. I can still hear my mother crying and screaming as the car drove away. I was crying. I cried and cried for many years. Mostly when I was on my own. I cried for my mother. Today they call us the stolen generation."

      "At the boarding house we were taught to read, and do arithmetic. They taught us how to make our beds, to cook, set tables, and iron like white people do. They taught the boys trades. They also taught them how to look after horses and sheep. Some [73] of the boys were very good at it. I am glad that I was taught these things, but I don't think it makes up for my losing my mother.

      "I was bright, and was later sent to high school. I couldn't see the point of it, and stopped going. I was sent to work for a white family, as a kitchen help. It was a big farm, and I would help cook for the family and the shearers. It was treated OK, but I missed my family."

      "When I got older, I decided I would try and find my mother. I kept seeing her crying. I thought about it in the day and dreamed about it at night. I tried to put it out of my mind, but I couldn't. I could not remember what she looked like, but I remembered the crying and the screams. It took me a long time, but I finally discovered where she had been living. When I got there, I discovered she was dead. They told me about her pain, about how she didn't get over it when we were taken from her. Anyhow, I kept searching, and eventually found my brother. He was also seeking. He wanted to know more about our people. He found some of our elders, and was initiated. He collected a lot of our things, Aboriginal things. Those things on my wall were his. Unfortunately, he died. He was on his motorbike. He crashed into the back of a truck. Then I found I had no one. I had some friends though. They helped me. I thought of ending my life, but decided to go on living. I decided to explore my culture and history. I did this for my mother and my brother, but also for myself. I needed to find out who I was. It has been a long journey."

      "That painting over my bed", the old woman continued, "That's a painting of my journey. I painted it. It tells my story. My people know what it means. Many white people imagine that it's just a pretty Aboriginal painting. But it tells of my people, my family, my life. It's a sad story, but it's also a story of my determination."

      "I think that might be enough for today", a familiar voice said from the doorway, "Mrs. Burns will be tired. She needs to rest."

      The children had been quiet, completely absorbed, as the old Aboriginal woman was speaking. They had taken in every [74] word. Cindy was the first to recover, to return to the present. She turned to Mrs. Burns, and said, "Thank you. Thank you for telling us about your life. It was so sad. We have learnt so much from listening. I will think about it for a long time." The others, still lost for words, murmured their approval.

      Sue, reaching out her hand, placed it on the nobbled hand of the old woman. She gently squeezed the hand, and whispered, "Thank you."

      Each of the children nodded towards Mrs. Burns as they he left the room. She enjoyed talking to them. She smiled faintly at them, but warmly, as they left the room. She had come alive. But it had exhausted her, and, once they left, she slumped in her chair.

      After thanking their friend at reception, the four members of "The Syndicate" left through the front door, making for the gate. They did not say much to each other. Tom took off on his bike, and the other three walked in silence down the road towards their homes. As Cindy had the furthest to walk, she had some time on her own before reaching home. The image of Mrs. Burns, as a little girl, being taken from her mother, affected her deeply. She could not understand why people, white people, her people, had wanted to do it. She could not help putting herself in Mrs. Burns' position. The pain of it caught her in the chest, and her throat. But the experience went deeper even than that. It touched something personal, a pain deep within her. Cindy, like Mrs. Burns, did not know who her real mother was. She hoped she would find out one day. [75]

Chapter 8

      On Monday of the following week, Miss Blumenthal spent the earlier part of the morning talking to students about how they were doing with their projects. She asked them to gather together in their groups, to talk about how much they had learned, and to work out how much work still needed to be done. Most of the groups were secretive about what it was they were looking into. They wanted to surprise the others when the time came to present their work to the class.

      Several of the groups were not concerned about others knowing the subject of their assignment. One group, made up mostly of boys, was looking into the history of one of the local hotels. One of the students involved in this project was the son of the licensee of the hotel, who helped them collect material. They discovered the building had been built in 1862, and that it had been added to several times since then. In the early years, the town had boasted half a dozen thriving hotels. It was on a major stock route, so there was a lot of passing traffic. Miners were also attracted to the area after tin was discovered and mining operations opened up.

      Lisa Carbonelli's group, from the time they first worked out what they would do, kept up a running commentary on their progress. Brian Jenks was flattered and a little embarrassed by Lisa's interest in his family. He was aware, also, that they were digging around in his family's past. He knew that his parents were concerned about what might be uncovered. However, Lisa was not put off by their half-hearted enthusiasm. They would have been happier if she had kept some of the information to herself. But there was no way they could shut her up.

      This morning the teacher went round from group to group to check on their progress, and to make suggestions. She spent considerable time with "The Syndicate." It was obvious she was excited by what they were doing. Lisa noticed this, and felt a stab of jealousy. When the teacher moved on to her group, she seized the opportunity to impress her, and keep her longer at her table. [76]

      "In talking to Mr. Jenks the other day", she began, a "I found out that his family came to this area in 1851. He said that the first member of his family to arrive in Australia had been a farm labourer. We went and talked with the lady in the library about this. She discovered his name in one of the books, and told us he was an assisted immigrant."

      "Did you find out what 'assisted' was?", Miss Blumenthal asked.

      "The lady at the library told us that they did not have to play for their fare to Australia on the ship. It was paid for them. Someone else, a "sponsor", arranged everything for them. They had to work for the sponsor for a time."

      "Did you find out any more about the Jenks' ancestor?", the teacher asked.

      "His name was John. He was 25 when he arrived in Australia. The lady at the library showed us the ship's record on the screen. It said he could read, but not write."

      "Did you find out why he came to this district?", the teacher asked, continuing to probe.

      Nancy, one of the of the girls, quickly cut in, "Mr. Jenks said there were opportunities here. People were beginning to settle on the land. Some brought cattle with them. Mr. Jenks said that John probably moved here because of the opportunities."

      "This group has been doing some very good work", the teacher responded, warmly.

      At that moment, the teacher looked at her watch. She had been squatting, and stood up. Lisa, who had hoped to keep the teacher at her table longer, was disappointed, even angry, that the teacher had spent so much time with Cindy's group, and so little with hers. She had not been able to tell her the rest of her news. Miss Blumenthal looked around the class and began, "It is almost time for your break. Make sure you pack up your things, and clear the tables. I have invited an artist to come and show you how to draw cartoons. He is bringing large sheets of paper with him. They will take up most of the space on your tables." [77]

      Miss Blumenthal turned and walked back towards the front of the class. Before reaching her desk, she stopped suddenly, squatted down, and began to say something to Cindy. Lisa, who had been following her, could not hear what she said. However, seeing the teacher stop and talk to Cindy turned her anger into rage. She controlled herself, though with great difficulty. She did not want others to know how upset she was. "She can talk to her, but she hasn't got time to listen to me. She didn't want to hear about what we discovered."

      Miss Blumenthal set aside the next afternoon for students to work on their projects. The term was already half over, and they needed to have their projects finished by the time it concluded.

      The members of "The Syndicate" decided that they would spend the afternoon at "The Place." In order to give themselves more time, they left the school yard when they were dismissed for lunch. They took their lunches with them. It was a fine day, and they hoped to look over the grounds of the deserted property before spending time in the house.

      They were hungry when they reached the house. They walked around to the far side of the building, sat on the steps leading up to the side porch, and ate their lunches.

      "What do you think we will find", Belinda asked, looking at Cindy.

      "I don't know", Cindy replied, "But we should work out a plan."

      "Sue, who was feeling a little apprehensive, suggested, "I think it would be best if we worked with a partner. "That sounds a good idea", Tom cut in, "The backyard is very large. Sue can come with me, and we will see what we can find. Belinda and Cindy can work together, and search around the sides of the house and in the front yard."

      "Sounds a great idea", responded Cindy, who had been considering a similar plan, "We can meet back here when we are finished." [78]

      Sue, who was the last to finish her lunch, replaced the lid on her lunch box, and placed it on the porch, immediately above the top step.

      "Let's get going, Tom", she said, pulling on Tom's leave.

      Tom, who had been waiting for Sue to finish eating, needed no further encouragement. They set off in the direction of the back fence. The backyard, like the frontyard, was overgrown. It was not easy to see what was lying around. They discovered that there were many things scattered about, hidden under leaf litter, or behind thick shrubs. In pushing their way through tall grass, squeezing between overgrown bushes, and climbing under the lower branches of spreading gums, they found a collection of discarded materials. There were several old car tyres, rusted cans, lengths of pipe, rotting wooden fence posts, bottles of all shapes and sizes, and the occasional small lizard that took fright as they approached. Sue spied a frayed length of rope hanging from an overhanging branch. A little distance away she found the wooden seat to which the rope had been attached. As she picked up what was left of the seat, she wondered how many children had enjoyed swinging backwards and forwards underneath this tree. Tom found what was left of an old machete, a large knife, which was used like an axe to cut through undergrowth.

      By the time Tom reached the back fence, he realised he had become separated from Sue. He was not worried, as he could hear her crunching dead leaves under foot. Looking along the fence line, he caught sight of old timber slabs lying at different angles on the ground, many of them completely hidden under tall grass, litter, and untamed shrubs.

      "Hey, look a this, Sue", Tom called out.

      Sue, who was hidden behind a tangle of bushes that had once been a hedge, could hear Tom's voice, and made her way as fast as she could to where he was standing. She circled what was left of the old hedge, and spied him in one of the few clearings that were dotted around the yard. [79]

      "What have you found? What's there?", she began, her eyes searching the ground, but without seeing anything that could have explained Tom's excitement.

      Tom, who had squatted down, and was peering under one of the low bushes, reached his hand in underneath its branches. He was attempting to move something. He pushed it in one direction, and then in another. Finally, he grasped the end of a large wooden slab and pulled it out from underneath the bush.

      "Look at that!", he said.

      "I can see it", replied Sue, "But what is it? It's just an old piece of wood."

      "It is a piece of wood", responded time, "But it's more than an ordinary piece of old wood." He ran his finger along several of the long flat surfaces on one side of the slab. "See those", he said, "They were made by an adze. An adze is like an old fashion axe. It was used in the very early days to cut lengths of wood from trees that had been cut down. They had no saws then to do the job. We have an old adze in our shed at home. Dad explained to me what it was for, and how it was used. These pieces of wood were cut by an adze. That is why they are called slabs. We have a pile of them at the back of our shed at home. Dad told me that the first shed that was built on our land was made out of these."

      "It looks pretty rough", Sue responded, still unsure about why Tom was so excited about the slabs.

      "There are lots of other pieces lying around here", Tom went on, "Some of them are partly buried in the ground. Others have almost decayed away. See! There is one there. There is another one over there. They are everywhere! There are several under that tree. If you look at where they are on the ground, at how they are spread out, you can see that an old slab building stood in this very place. It probably got so old it just collapsed. If these slabs could talk, they could tell us something about the house, about who lived here."

      Sue was not greatly impressed, and wondered what the others were doing. [80]

      When the two groups separated, Cindy and Belinda first explored that part of the yard that could be seen from the porch. Like Tom and Sue, they discovered discarded bottles and tins, and an occasional rusted metal bar, that meant little to them. They then made their way round to the front of the house. This turned out to be not much different from the side they had just explored, except that there were more blackberry bushes, which meant they had to be more careful.

      Belinda was keen to investigate the hole into which she had fallen, when she found the stone axe. While Mr. Hall had told Miss Blumenthal that the ground, where the stone axe had been discovered, should not be disturbed, Belinda could not avoid the temptation to clamber down into the hole again. She could see where her feet had landed, and where the axe had been when her hand grasped it for support.

      Belinda picked up one of the sticks that was lying on the bottom of the hole, and began jabbing it into the ground. She knew she shouldn't be doing this, but felt a few prods in the soft earth would not hurt. In one of these jabs, her stick hit something hard. Maybe it was another rock. She dug the stick into the soil a few more times near where she struck the hard object, to loosen the soil. She then scraped the soil back with her fingers, and reached down to see if she could locate the object. All of a sudden, her hand wrapped itself around a long, solid object. She tried to pull it free, but it refused to budge. She kept digging, extending the area of soft soil. She reached down again. This time she felt along the length of the object until her hand reached a solid knob. She took hold of the knob firmly, and tried pulling it out of the soil sideways. This time it came free. It was about 30 centimetres long. When she brushed away the dirt, she caught her breath.

      "Cindy!", she called out, in a voice that was full of horror, "Cindy!"

      "Yes", replied Cindy, who was several metres away, trying to read the name on an old bottle, "What is it? What's wrong?"

      "Look at this!" [81]

      She handed the object to Cindy, who took hold of it, turned it over, thought for a few seconds, and the said, "It's a bone!"

      "I can see it is. I wonder what it belongs to?"

      "Maybe it's an animal. Maybe it's from a human body!"

      "I shouldn't have been looking here", Belinda said, anxiously, "Maybe we should put it back?"

      "Perhaps we were wrong to poke around in this area", Cindy said, "But now we have found it, we had better take it to Miss Blumenthal." Looking down at the bone again, she said," I wonder what it belongs to?"

      As Cindy was speaking, Belinda was clamouring out of the hole. She dusted himself down, and then turned to Cindy. "We should find the others", she said.

      "I agree."

      The two girls hurried around the back of the house. There were about to call out to attract the attention of Tom and Sue, when they heard footsteps and voices coming towards them.

      "What did you find?", Sue asked, hoping that it would be something exciting.

      "We found the remains of an old slab shed", Tom said, obviously feeling pleased with his discovery.

      "Come and see what Belinda found", Cindy said, as she walked towards the porch steps. Tom and Sue could see that she had something in her hand. It was long and thin. "It might just be another old pipe", Sue thought.

      As the others gathered around, Cindy held out the object she was carrying. Tom drew in his breath. "It's a bone!", he began, "It looks like he could be a human bone."

      Sue's eyes were almost popping out of her head. "A human bone", she said, pulling herself back from the bone, as if it had the power to harm her.

      "Where did you find it?", Tom asked.

      "In the hole", Cindy answered.

      "We shouldn't have been looking there. Mr. Hall said we should not disturb the site." [82]

      "I know", Cindy replied, "But we have. And we've found this."

      "We will have to take it to Miss Blumenthal", Tom continued.

      "We already decided that", Cindy responded.

      Tom was the only one who had brought his schoolbag with him. Cindy handed him the bone. Tom looked at it for a moment, then opened the flap of his bag. Clearing a space for it, he put it inside, and closed the flap.

      "I will leave it there till we return to school", Tom said, "Now we are here, we may as well go inside."

      Before anyone had a chance to reply, the children heard voices. They were coming from the front of the house. Lisa Carbonelli could be heard, issuing instructions to her troops.

      "Inside", she said, "I want you all inside, immediately." As an afterthought, she added, "Nancy! You got that doll?"

      "Yes. I have. It's here", Nancy replied, holding up a small doll about the size of her hand.

      "Let's go", demanded Lisa.

      The members of "The Syndicate" listened, without moving a muscle, as Lisa and her friends traipsed into the lounge room through the front door.

      Once in the old lounge room, Lisa Carbonelli, and the four girls accompanying her, sunk to the floor, pulling their knees up to the chins, and throwing their arms around their legs.

      "What did you bring us here for this afternoon, Lisa?", asked a small thin girl, whose dark, straggly hair fell over her eyes, hiding them from view. "We should be getting on with our project."

      "This is another of our projects", Lisa responded tartly, "One that no one but us knows about."

      Samantha, looking out from underneath the hair that fell over her eyes, felt she had been put in her place. She was angry, but decided to say nothing. She did not want to find herself offside with Lisa, or be excluded from the group. It was important for her to belong. They were few places she belonged [83] before she met Lisa. She knew Lisa had a harsh tongue. But she had been willing to put up with it.

      "This other "Project" you're talking about wouldn't happen to be Cindy Hardacre?", Nancy asked, as she looked down at the doll she was holding.

      "It certainly is", Lisa responded, "We are going to do her today.

      "Do her?", Rachel, a solid, dumpy, red-headed girl asked.

      "You never understand, do you", Lisa replied sarcastically, "We're going to do her, stick a needle in her, silly!"

      "How can we?", Rachel responded, "she's not here!"

      "You're as dumb as they come", Lisa answered, "I don't know why we keep you in our group!"

      "I know why you do", Samantha thought to herself, "It's because you need her. She's big, and powerful, even if she is dumb."

      "How are you going to stick a pin in her", Rachel persisted, undeterred by Lisa's sarcasm.

      Lisa shrugged her shoulders, exhaling her breath. "I suppose I had better explain." Waiting until all eyes were riveted on her, Lisa went on, "I was watching a programme the other night. It was on voodoo. People were dancing round a dark room, like we sometimes do when we cast spells. Most of them looked as if they were out of their brains. The person who was explaining what was happening said they went into a trance. Some of them had little dolls, like the one I asked Nancy to bring. After they dance around for a long time, some begin to fall to the ground. Then one of those who has a doll sticks a pin in it. The little doll is in the place of someone they don't like. If they want the person to be harmed, they stick a pin in the doll."

      "Is that what you're going to do with Cindy Hardacre?" Rachel asked, her eyes as big as watermelons.

      "Yes. It is", Liesl replied, "That is precisely what I'm going to do with Cindy Hardacre, little Miss Goody Goody."

      Lisa turned to Tanya, who had not yet spoken, and ordered her, "Go and get the candles." [84]

      Tanya stood up, her long blond hair cascading down her shoulders, and carefully walked across the room into the corner nearest the door that led to the kitchen. She lifted up an upturned wooden box that was lying on the floor. She took out three candles. They were little more than stubs. She also grasped a box of matches. She brought the candles and matches back into the centre of the room. She returned to the box, lifted it again, and collected three old candle holders. She placed the candles in the candle holders.

      "Everybody up", Lisa demanded, "We will sing one of our special songs. The one we made up last time. You remember the words?"

      Nancy and Tanya indicated they did. Rachel looked blank, while it was difficult to read Samantha's response in her face, because it was half hidden by her hair.

      "Those of us who know it will begin" Lisa said, "The rest of you will soon remember."

      Samantha, who returned and squatted on the floor again, crawled over to where she had placed the candles and lit them. The girls then stood up, and gathered around in a circle. They turned to the right. Lisa began the chant. They started marching round the room. They had hardly begun before they heard a noise, like something falling, in the bedroom nearest them. Lisa stopped dead in her tracks. Rachel, who was following behind, ran into her and almost knocked her to the ground.

      "Quiet", Lisa demanded, placing the index finger of her right in front of her lips to indicate that they should make no further noise. All were silent. "You had better go and investigate, just to be sure", she said to Nancy.

      While Lisa and her friends were preparing for their voodoo dance, Cindy, Tom, Sue, and Belinda had been working out how they could enter the house without Lisa's "Vampires" being aware of what they were doing. Tom first tried the door that led into the kitchen. Its bottom caught on the floor. He realised that if he kept pushing, the door would scrape, and they would be discovered. He looked around for another means of entry. [85]

      The only other way into the house, aside from walking boldly through the front door, which would have given the game away, was through a window that could be reached from the porch. It led into the bedroom nearest the lounge room. The bottom half of the window was slightly open. He gently pushed, to see whether it would move. It did, and without much sound. He kept pushing the bottom window up, ever so slowly and gently, until there was enough room for him to crawl through. He could hear voices in the lounge room. None of them were distinct, except for Lisa's.

      Tom realised the girls inside were going to begin one of their dances. He waited. When he heard Lisa start singing, he clambered up onto the windowsill. He could see that it was going to be difficult landing on the other side, particularly as he could not twist his body round so that his feet went first. He would have to land on his hands. To do this he needed the others to hold his legs. He did not want to make a noise. Cindy and Belinda held a leg each, as Tom's hands reached down towards the floor of the bedroom. Belinda's foot slipped, and she released her grip on Tom's leg. Cindy found she could not hold him on her own. Tom felt himself falling forward towards the floor. Hitting the floor, he made just enough noise to attract the attention of Lisa. He did not have time to return through the window, so he brought his legs down off the sill and was tip-toeing towards the door as Nancy was walking towards it from the opposite side. Hearing her footsteps, he pushed himself as flat as possible against the wall behind the door. Nancy, who was afraid of what she might find, slowly opened the door and glanced around the darkened room. It appeared to be empty. After a moment, she closed the door, and returned to the lounge room.

      "It must have been a possum", she said, "The window was open. He probably raced out when he heard my footsteps."

      Lisa seemed convinced by this explanation. She was anxious to get on with the voodoo. She marshaled her troops, and the chanting and dancing began again. [86]

      Tom, thankful that he had not been discovered, listened as the noise became louder, the girls' feet pounding the floor with great abandon. After about five minutes the chanting ceased. Tom wondered what was happening. He put his eye to the keyhole.

      What he saw made his hair stand on end. He could see Nancy holding a small doll, hardly bigger than her hand. She had hold of its head and feet. Lisa Carbonelli was grasping a large needle. Her face was contorted with anger and rage. All of a sudden, she pushed the needle into the doll's middle. "I hate you, Cindy Hardacre", she said. She pulled the needle out, and then plunged it in again, yelling, "Die." She kept jabbing a needle into the doll, and screaming, "Die! Die! Die! Die!"

      Tom felt shivers up his spine.

      After Tom had fallen to the floor, Cindy and Belinda dropped out of sight, sinking onto the floorboards of the porch outside, where they joined Sue. All three girls held their breath. They heard the door open, and then close. They breathed a sigh of relief when the dancing started up again. They remained deadly quiet. Shortly after the chanting stopped, Cindy felt a sharp pain in her chest. She did not understand what it was. She felt it again, several times. The feeling she was left with, after the pain had gone, was hatred. It was almost as if her heart had been injected with the venom of hatred.

      Sue saw Cindy wince several times. "Are you OK?", she asked.

      "I think I am", Cindy replied, unsure of what was happening to her.

      Having finished what they came to do, Lisa and her friends left the house. They needed to spend at least some time on their school project. Lisa could not wait to see what effect the voodoo had on Cindy Hardacre. She would find out the next day. She would be at school early the next morning.

      Realising that "The Vampires" had gone, Tom opened the door into the lounge room, and walked to the kitchen, opening the door onto the porch. The girls, pulling themselves up, followed him back through the kitchen, and into the lounge [87] room. The four members of "The Syndicate" sank to the floor. They didn't speak for several minutes. Tom did not know whether to say anything to Cindy. He thought he might alarm her if he mentioned what he had witnessed. However, when Sue explained that Cindy had felt unwell, and Cindy began talking about the pain in her chest, Tom decided to tell them what he had seen. Cindy listened in silence, and, when he had finished, she said, "What I felt was Lisa Carbonelli's hate. She has been sticking pins in me ever since I came to the school."

      "What can we do to pay her back?", Tom asked. He had developed a brotherly interest in Cindy, and felt he needed to protect and defend her.

      "Fighting hate with hate doesn't work", Cindy reflected, almost to herself, "There must be some reason why Lisa hates me so much. Maybe Lisa herself doesn't know why she hates me. She is carried along by feelings that are stirred up. I don't think I have done anything to make her hate me?"

      After several minutes, during which the four young people were silent, thinking their own thoughts, Cindy looked up, brushed several tears from her eyes, and continued, "We are supposed to be learning more about this house. We should get on with it." [88]

Chapter 9

      Lisa Carbonelli made sure she was at school early the next morning. She was alone in the front yard of the school before she was joined by the ever-faithful, big and bumbling Rachel, who clung to her like a caterpillar to a leaf. They positioned themselves just inside the front gate, where they were hidden by the heavy foliage of a one of the wattle trees.

      When Lisa caught sight of Cindy and Sue, who were walking along the grass at the side of the road, she motioned to Rachel to be quiet. She wanted to hear what they were saying, and to see whether the voodoo had worked.

      Lisa's heart sank when she saw Cindy smile at Sue, and then burst out laughing. It was impossible to hear what they were saying.

      As the two girls walked through the front gate, Cindy asked Sue, in a voice loud enough to be heard by Lisa, "Do you have your map? I seem to have lost mine." The two friends moved on, and were soon out of earshot.

      "Damn!", Lisa said, under her breath, "The voodoo mustn't have worked." Rachel's attention had been distracted by one of the boys. She hadn't heard what Lisa had muttered.

      "What was that you said?", she asked.

      "Can't you see. Stupid! Our voodoo didn't do anything. She must have some form of protection!"

      Lisa thought for a moment. Her eyes began to brighten. She remembered that when the two girls had come through the gate, Sue had said something about a map. "I wonder if the map is part of their project?", she thought to herself, "If I could get my hands on that map, I could blow their secret. Everyone would know about their project. And I would know what they are up to."

      Early in the term, when the students first began working on their projects, there was no doubt in Lisa's mind that her project would be better than those of any of the others. She saw herself, at the end of term, standing in front of the class, being congratulated by the teacher. She would be the envy of the other [89] students. As the days and weeks passed, however, her confidence began slipping away. She noticed the amount of time Miss Blumenthal spent with Cindy, and other members of their project group, particularly Tom. "There has to be a way", she thought to herself, "of finding out what they are doing, and making it public. I might even be able to spoil it. Sue is the weak link. Maybe I could win her over. If she's approached the right way, she might betray her friends." Lisa was aware that Sue occasionally cast an eye in the direction of Luke Elms.

      During the morning she was distracted. Her mind was occupied with the scheme she was devising.

      During the lunch break, Lisa noticed Sue wandering around the playground on her own. Cindy, Tom, and Belinda were nowhere to be seen. Lisa hurried after Sue. She caught up with her as she was about to go into the toilets.

      "Sue", she began, in her nicest voice, "I'm planning a party at my house in two weeks time. I wondered if you would like to come?"

      Sue didn't know how to react. She was scared. Lisa Carbonelli had never been this nice to her, nor invited her to anything. "A party?", she replied.

      "Yes, I'm having a party. I have invited a number of my friends. I have also invited some boys. Luke Elms is coming!"

      Sue's ears pricked up at the mention of Luke Elms. This was not so much because she had a soft spot for Luke, but because she wondered why someone like Luke had been invited to Lisa's party. Remembering what had happened the previous afternoon, she could think of nothing she would enjoy less than being a guest at one of Lisa's parties, even if Luke Elms was going.

      "Sorry. But I can't", she began, while fishing around for an excuse. After a moment, she went on, "Thank you for inviting me to your party. I am sorry I won't be able to go. I'm going away with my father for the weekend."

      Frustrated at getting nowhere, Lisa, in a rapid change of mood, hissed, "Slug! I always hated you!" She turned on her heel, [90] and marched away, her feet kicking the dirt as she headed for her friends.

      While Lisa was talking to Sue, attempting to get her to take the bait, Cindy, Tom, and Belinda were talking together in the classroom. After the last stragglers left, and the room was empty, except for Miss Blumenthal and the three young people, Tom began, "We have something else to show you."

      "Yes."

      Tom fossicked around in his bag, and drew out a long package.

      "What is it?", Miss Blumenthal asked.

      "You had better look at it", Tom replied, handing the package to the teacher.

      Miss Blumenthal began removing the paper. When the final piece of newspaper was pulled free, she found herself looking at a bone. She threw her head back, startled by what she was holding in her hand.

      "We should not have been looking where we were looking", Tom confessed.

      "Where were you Looking?", Miss Blumenthal asked, searching Tom's eyes for an answer, "Where was it that you should not have been looking?"

      "In the hole", Belinda replied, "I was the one. I wanted to see what else was in the hole I fell into, the one where I found the axe."

      "You shouldn't have been near the hole", Miss Blumenthal replied, "But I can be understand your curiosity."

      "We promise not to do in again", Tom answered quickly.

      Miss Blumenthal was listening, but didn't appear to be. She was looking closely at the bone. "This looks like a human bone", she said, "I'll have to inform Mr. Hall."

      Miss Blumenthal began re-wrapping the bone in the newspaper. It would not fit in her bag, so she placed it in a large orange envelope, which she rested against one of the legs of the desk where she worked. [91]

      After she dismissed Cindy, Tom and Belinda, Miss Blumenthal rang Mr. Clarke. He contacted his friend, the archaeologist, and, by three that afternoon, Mr. Kemp, the local policeman, had placed a blue plastic ribbon along the front fence of "The Place." He also put up a sign that read, "Keep Out."

      Before she dismissed the children that afternoon, and while the class was working away at fractions, she asked Tom to come to her desk. She spoke softly so that she could not be heard above the noise of the class.

      "Mr. Clarke has arranged for the house to be sealed off. A notice has been put up indicating that no one is to enter the property, except with the permission of the police, or the university. I realise that you are still working on your project, and may need to visit the house again. Apart from the archaeologists from the university, you will be the only ones allowed onto the property. But you will need to ask me for permission whenever you want to go there. I have mentioned this to Constable Kemp. The people at the university don't want the ground disturbed. This could be one of the most important archaeological sites in the district."

      Tom was expecting to ride home after school. However, when he went to leave the school grounds with his bike, he discovered his father waiting outside the gate.

      "I have something important to show you", his father said, "It would be good if your friends could join us. It should not take long. Maybe an hour."

      As he was speaking, Tom saw Cindy, Belinda, and Sue leaving the school building. He dropped his bike on the ground beside his father, and ran back into the schoolyard. When he reached the three girls, he said, excitedly, "My father has something important to talk to us about. It has to do with our project. It might take an hour. Are you able to come with us?"

      The girls looked around at each other. Belinda was the first to reply. "My mother will be worried if I am late", she said, "But I would like to know what your father wants to talk to us about." [92]

      "My mother would be worried, too", Cindy added, "I promised her I would always let her know when I wasn't going to be home on time."

      "I can't come", Sue explained, in a voice full of disappointment, "My father has asked me to help him with the shopping this afternoon."

      When the children reached the gate, they looked up and saw the smile on Mr. Piggot's face. Looking round at the girls, Mr. Piggot asked, "Well, what's the verdict? Can you come?"

      "Sue has to help her father, and Cindy and Belinda are worried about getting home late", Tom explained.

      Turning to Cindy and Belinda, Mr. Piggot suggested, "If you give me your phone numbers, I will ring your mothers."

      Several minutes later, after dialing the numbers they gave him, he replaced his mobile phone in the pouch on his belt, and announced, "I promised to drop you home when we have finished. You mothers are happy for you to join us. We will drive to the old place, and I will talk to you there."

      Mr. Piggot walked around to the side of his small truck, and went to open the door. Before his hand reached the handle, however, Tom sang out to his father, "We need to get permission!"

      "Permission for what?", his father asked.

      "The place is out of bounds. The teacher said we have to get permission from her if we want to go there."

      "I guess we had better get her permission then", Mr. Piggot said, looking around to see if he could see the teacher.

      Tom quickly cast his eyes over the area where the teachers' cars were parked. He noticed Miss Blumenthal's small, grey Daihatsu was backing out of its spot. She would soon be heading through the gate. He took off, running as fast as his legs would take him, in the direction of the small dirt track that led into the school grounds. He reached the entrance just as Miss Blumenthal was about to drive out through the gates and onto the road. He threw his arms wide in front of her car. She jammed on the [93] brakes, which threw her forward in her seat. Tom ran round to the driver side. Miss Blumenthal wound down the window.

      "Tom, whatever were you doing. I could have run over you."

      "Please Miss, sorry about the fright I gave you. But we need permission to visit the property this afternoon."

      "Why this afternoon?", she asked, "Why the urgency?"

      "My father has been helping us gather information", Tom explained, "And he has something to tell us. He says it's best if we go to the old house."

      "I guess, if your father is going with you, then there is no harm in giving you permission. But remember. Don't go anywhere near the hole."

      "Thank you, Miss Blumenthal, "Thank you!"

      Tom raced back to the truck. We can go", he said.

      Mr. Piggot was already behind the wheel. Tom opened the passenger door, and motioned to Cindy and Belinda to climb in beside his father. Mr. Piggot turned the ignition key, and put the truck into gear. It moved off in the direction of "The Place."

      When they pulled up outside the derelict home, the blue plastic ribbon was flapping in the wind. The children jumped out of the car, and opened the front gate, slipping under the ribbon at the same time.

      "Hey. Wait for me!", Mr. Piggot called out after them.

      Cindy, Tom and Belinda skipped up the front steps. They had discovered where to step, where the boards were firm. It wasn't any time before the three eager students were seated on the floor of the loungeroom. Mr. Piggot took a little more time to lower his body onto the floorboards. He had a number of papers in his right hand.

      "I thought you might be interested to know who owned this property", he began, "I have a friend at the Lands Department. I asked him if he would find out for me who the owners of this land were. He located the title deeds. I explained why I wanted them, and he sought permission to photocopy [94] them, so you could use them in your project. Well, here are the photocopies."

      The three children leant forward to look at the documents. "You will be interested to learn", Mr. Piggot continued, "that a Mr. James Hearn was given a land grant in 1856 by Governor Bathurst. This land was part of that grant. I have looked up other records and discovered that he was a free settler from Buckinghamshire, in England. This deed tells us that his son, John Hearn, built a house where this property now stands, in 1870. It was a small home, probably a very primitive structure. Tom tells me that that you found the remains of an old slab barn on the fence-line in the backyard. That was probably built at the same time as the house. It was likely that the house was also made from rough slabs."

      Cindy and Belinda were leaning forward, drinking in every word. Tom was pouring over the title deed.

      "The house must have burned down sometime in the 1890's. A terrible fire went through this area in 1896. It could have gone then."

      As Mr. Piggot was speaking, the wind outside began picking up. It was blowing large branches about, tossing their leaves in all directions.

      "You will see from this title deed", Mr. Piggot continued, "That there was no building on the land in 1926, when the property was purchased by Richard Williams. Williams built the weatherboard building we are sitting in today."

      Before he could continue, a sudden gust of wind brought down a branch of a tree that overhung the house. It wasn't a large branch, but it made a loud noise on the rusting galvanized iron roof. Mr. Piggot jumped up, and ran to the one window that was without a blanket. He was quickly followed by Tom, Cindy and Belinda. The branches of the trees, and the tall bushes, were thrashing about. Everything seemed to be moving. Suddenly, they heard what sounded like the sound of a galloping horse approaching the house. They looked in amazement as a horse and rider, more ghostly than real, flashed past the window. The rider [95] appeared to lift his battered hat as if he was greeting them. He disappeared as fast as he had appeared.

      Tom looked up at his father, "What was that?"

      "I don't know!", Mr. Piggot replied, shaking his head. Looking down at the children, with unbelief in his eyes, he asked, "Did you all see what I saw."

      "We did", replied Cindy, dragging her heart out of her mouth.

      "But what was it?", Belinda pressed the question. It looked like a horse and rider. He seemed to notice us, to smile at us."

      As soon as the phantom rider had passed, the wind died down. It became quiet. Mr. Piggot turned away from the window, and walked back into the centre of the room. He picked up the papers he had left on the floor. The children drifted back. They were quiet, lost in their thoughts.

      Realizing that time was getting away, Tom's father looked around at the children, who were still stunned. He had also been shaken. He began, "I think it will be important for us to find out what happened in the town between 1870 and 1900. Maybe that rider was saying something to us. Cindy and Belinda, why don't you spend a couple of hours in the town library and see what you can find out. Ask Mrs. Jackson, the librarian, if she can help you. They have microfilm of old newspapers there. There is a brief history of the town that someone has written. You may get a clue about what to look for from that. Mrs. Jackson might also have some ideas." Turning to his son, he said, "Tom. Why don't you find out all you can about the 1930's? The school library should have a number of books about that. I will see what I can find out about Richard Williams. I will ask around. We will leave the rest of the material from the title deeds till later."

      When he finished speaking, Mr. Piggot shepherded the children towards to front door. They were soon in the truck, and heading towards Belinda's house. [96]

Chapter 10

      On the following Monday morning, it was obvious to all in the class, including the teacher, that Lisa Carbonelli was excited. She paid little attention to Miss Blumenthal, who was explaining some of the basic rules of English expression. She was like a balloon that is so full of air that it is about to explode. The teacher decided it was better to pause for a few minutes, to see what was bothering Lisa.

      "Lisa", Miss Blumenthal began, "You don't seem to be paying attention. Is there something on your mind?"

      "Yes Miss."

      "Do you want to share it with us?", Miss. Blumenthal asked.

      "It is about the project."

      "Your project?"

      "Yes, our project."

      "You have found some interesting facts?", Miss Blumenthal went on, wanting to draw Lisa out.

      "Yes", Lisa replied, "About Brian Jenks great, great, great grandfather."

      Brian, who had been present when Lisa had been speaking to his father the previous evening, had a fair idea of what she was going to talk about. He was preparing himself.

      "What about Brian's great, great, great grandfather?", Miss Blumenthal inquired.

      "He was in the First World War. He was one of the ANZACS. He fought at Galipoli. Mr. Jenks told me he was decorated for his bravery."

      The class looked around at Brian, who was soaking up the admiration of the other students, basking in the reflected glory of his great, great, great grandfather. He had heard this story many times before, as well as other stories from the war years. Repeated every year, he found them tiresome. But this time, the telling was to his advantage. [97]

      "You have discovered many interesting facts about the Jenks", the Teacher responded, "You have certainly thrown yourself into the project."

      "I am enjoying it", Lisa replied.

      "I am glad. That was one of the purposes of the project," Miss Blumenthal responded. "Since we are talking about projects, I hope you are all well advanced with your work. The end of term is only three weeks away. Your projects will have to be finished by the final day. You will be required to present them on that day. Neate's Pharmacy has offered a prize for the best project. I have asked Mr. Hall to judge your work."

      Lisa realised that, though she had discovered a lot about the Jenks, neither she, nor anyone in her group, had put anything on paper. "How much writing do we need to do", she asked, "We have so much material."

      "You can present the material however you wish. There will need to be some writing. But you might also like to include drawings, photos, maps, documents. Each group can decide how it makes its presentation."

      Miss Blumenthal decided to shelve the lesson on English Expression for the time being, in spite of the fact that it would help some with their projects. Instead, she told the students to divide into their project groups, and work out what they needed to do to complete their work.

      "If any of you need special help", she said, "You had better come and see me. But one group at a time."

      Lisa, motioning to the other members of her group to join her, made straight for Miss Blumenthal.

      When she reached the teacher, and while waiting for Nancy, Samantha, Tanya and Rachel, she began, "We don't have anything down yet. No writing. Could you give us some idea of what we should do?"

      Miss Blumenthal thought for a moment, her eyes on the ground. Then she looked around at the anxious faces of the girls standing round her desk, and said, "You have already told us a lot about what you have discovered. You have given it to us as it [98] has come to hand. Why don't you write it up in the form of News Bulletins, brief snippets. Imagine you are in a TV studio preparing a documentary."

      "A great idea", Lisa responded.

      The other girls began to take heart. Their excitement grew.

      "Thank you, Miss", Lisa said, and then, addressing her followers, she went on, "Come on gang. We have work to do. I will be the production manager and presenter. One of us can look after the photos, and drawings, and the other two can write the script."

      During the lunch hour Lisa and her friends met in a corner of the playground to work out their strategy. As most of the other students in the class, particularly the girls, were afraid of Lisa, they remained undisturbed. After apportioning tasks, Lisa raised a critical issue.

      "If we are going to win this prize", she said, "We are going to have to do something about Cindy Hardacre. Everyone is aware of the time the teacher spends with her group. We have to get rid of the competition."

      "How are we going to do that?", Samantha asked.

      "I don't know." Lisa replied, "We are going to have to work that out. Leave that to me. I will think of something."

      Later that afternoon, Miss Blumenthal set the class maths problems. She walked from table to table, helping students who were having difficulty. When she reached the table where Cindy and Sue were working, she squatted on the floor and spoke quietly to Cindy.

      "I would like to see you, Sue, Tom and Belinda this afternoon after school for a few minutes. I have something to tell you."

      Cindy looked at Sue, then replied, "OK with us."

      This brief conversation had not escaped the attention of Lisa Carbonelli, whose eyes flashed with fire. This was further indication of Miss Blumenthal's favouritism! Lisa's whole body seethed with anger. [99]

      After Miss Blumenthal dismissed the class that afternoon, Lisa rounded up her friends and they make off in the direction of "The Place." The "Vampires" had not visited their clubhouse for some time. They had been so busy gathering material for their project, that they hadn't had time for their rituals. When they reached the house, they discovered the police tape strung across the front fence, and a sign that said, "No Entry."

      Lifting the tape, and opening the gate, Lisa motioned to her friends to enter. Nancy, Tanya and Rachel filed through the gate. Samantha looked at Lisa, and then at the notice. "We shouldn't be going in here", she said, "Constable Kemp may find us!"

      "Don't worry about Constable Kemp", Lisa replied, "We won't be discovered." Not wholly convinced, but unable to resist the pressure of the others, particularly Lisa, Samantha ducked under the tape Lisa was holding, and followed the others across the yard, up the front steps of the house, and into the loungeroom of the old house."

      When they were seated on the floor, Lisa began. "We have to get rid of that bitch, Cindy Hardacre, otherwise we will not win the prize."

      "How are we going to do that?", Rachel asked, her large green eyes reflecting her unquestioning devotion to Lisa.

      "We will have to take drastic action."

      "How drastic?", Samantha asked, looking a little worried.

      "I am thinking", Lisa responded, "I haven't come up with a way yet."

      "Maybe we could kidnap her", Tanya volunteered, not intending her suggestion to be taken seriously. She just wanted to lighten the atmosphere.

      "We could", Lisa responded, grabbing at the suggestion, "Hey, we could."

      "I was only joking", Tanya protested.

      "But I am not", Lisa shot back.

      "Where would we keep her", asked Rachel, who failed to appreciate the seriousness of what Lisa was proposing.

      "We could keep her here!", Nancy shot back. [100]

      The girls looked around at each other. Nancy and Tanya were excited by the idea. Samantha looked worried. "We shouldn't be doing this", she said, "Its wrong, Lisa."

      "Who says! And even if it is wrong, why shouldn't we do it. Haven't you done anything that is wrong before?"

      "I have. But not like this. No as bad as this."

      "You are just worried you will get caught", Nancy replied.

      "It's wrong to do it", Samantha persisted.

      "If you don't want to do it, then you are out of the group", Lisa replied.

      Samantha was silent for a moment. Lisa didn't wait for her to reply, but began working out, with the help of the others, how they would carry through their plan. All except Samantha were so excited by what they planned to do, and so taken up with devising strategies, that they did not hear the footsteps of Constable Kemp on the front steps. He suddenly appeared at the door.

      "What are you girls doing in here?", he asked, "Don't you know this house is out of bounds."

      "We didn't know", Lisa replied, trying to look innocent.

      "Didn't know! Can't you read? I thought that was what they taught you at school. Come on. Up you get."

      The girls scrambled to their feet. They looked anxious. They did not know what to expect.

      "I have a mind to take you all down to the station", Constable Kemp said, "But I will let you off with a warning. I don't want to see you in here again."

      Nancy and Rachel looked blankly at the ground as they slunk down the steps. Samantha was gripped by fear. She felt ashamed, and wondered whether the incident would be reported to her parents. Lisa held her head defiantly erect. For her, this was merely a temporary setback.

      When they reached the front gate, Constable Kemp said, "Home you go. Quickly. Your parents will be worried about you. [101] And remember, don't enter this property again unless you first get my permission."

      Earlier that afternoon, after the class had been dismissed, Cindy, Tom, Sue and Belinda remained behind in the classroom. They wondered what Miss Blumenthal wanted to say to them. After their teacher had spent several minutes in the corridor, speaking to one of the parents, she excused herself and came back into the classroom.

      "I am glad you are all able to stay for a few minutes", she said, "I have some important news for you."

      "What is it?", Sue asked eagerly.

      "That bone you gave me", she began, "They have run some tests on it at the university. They have discovered that it is a human bone. In fact, it is the bone of an Aborigine. The bone looks as if it was smashed. They think is belongs to one of the Aborigines who was killed in the massacre of 1864. They expect to find more bones when they begin digging."

      "Massacre of 1864?", Tom began, "Was that one tribe of Aborigines fighting another?"

      "No", Miss Blumenthal replied, "It was a group of whites massacring a community of Aborigines, who were living by the creek that once ran through the property you have been investigating."

      "Why did they kill the Aborigines", Sue asked, a look of sadness and perplexity on her face.

      "They were convinced the Aborigines had stolen and eaten some of their cattle."

      "Even if the Aborigines did steal their cattle, they shouldn't have killed them", Belinda replied, hardly able to believe what she was told.

      "Were they arrested when they killed them?", Cindy asked.

      "No. In those days, Aborigines were treated like animals. They weren't considered human."

      "That's dreadful", Sue said. [102]

      "It was dreadful", Miss Blumenthal replied, "But that is what happened in those days. Maybe you could look up an account of the massacre. There is a copy of the Yarranduck Gazette on microfilm in the town library. The librarian will help you find it."

      Miss Blumenthal began collecting up her books, putting them into her bag. "You'd best be getting home", she said, "Your parents will be wondering where you are."

      The children, still stunned by the news of the massacre, excused themselves, and walked together down the corridor and out into the playground.

      The following Saturday afternoon the "Syndicate" met together at Tom Piggot's farm. Tom's mother invited Elsa Hardacre to join them. Elsa jumped at the opportunity of getting to know one of the local farming families.

      By 2:30 on Saturday afternoon Mr. Piggot, Cindy, Sue, Belinda, and Tom were gathered around the Piggot's large kitchen table. Mrs. Piggot, with the welcome assistance of Elsa Hardacre, had covered the table with tasty delights.

      "We will leave you to it", Mrs. Piggot announced, as she led Elsa Hardacre out into the garden.

      "Well, what have you found out?", Mr. Piggot asked, looking around table, "What about you, Cindy?"

      "I have discovered something that you won't believe", Cindy began.

      "Yes", Mr. Piggot responded, "What have you found out."

      "You suggested I look at old, local newspapers. Mrs. Jackson was very helpful. I told her we were interested in what was happening in the district from 1870 to 1900. She got a number of microfilms out for me. I started looking through them. Things were certainly different in those days."

      "Come on, what did you find that is so important?", Tom asked impatiently.

      "There were bushrangers in the area!"

      "Bushrangers!", Belinda asked, hardly able to believe what Cindy was saying, "Here!" [103]

      "When I mentioned to Mrs. Jackson that I had been reading about bushrangers", Cindy continued, "She went to the shelves and took out a book. It was written by one of the "boys" who used to ride around with the bushranger who called himself "Thunderbolt." Mrs. Jackson allowed me to take the book home for a few days. In it I discovered that some of the local farmers were friends with him. They hid him, and gave him fresh horses when he needed them."

      Tom was listening, drinking in every word. "Anything more?", he asked.

      "Yes!", Cindy replied, "Something you will not believe."

      "What is it", Sue asked.

      "Well. You know that James Hearn was the first owner of the land. He was one of those who helped the bushranger!"

      There was silence in the kitchen for a brief moment.

      "Do you think?", Tom began.

      "Maybe", Cindy replied, "Maybe that was who we saw. On his horse. Raising his hat. Thunderbolt!"

      "Who knows", Tom's father cut in, "It could have been." After a moment he continued, "This food will be wasted if you don't start eating. Come on, tuck into it."

      After the children had eaten, they returned to their task.

      "What else have you discovered?", Mr. Piggot asked, looking around the group.

      "I have something", Belinda said. "Miss Blumenthal suggested we look at the account of the 1864 massacre. I found the article in the Yarranduck Gazette with Mrs. Jackson's help."

      "Yes?", Tom responded, wondering if there was to be another startling revelation.

      "Some of the local farmers", Belinda began," were so annoyed with the Aborigines for stealing their sheep and cattle that they decided to teach them a lesson. But things got out of hand. They ended up killing them. You will never guess what I discovered when I read through the article."

      "No", Tom replied, still waiting for the startling discovery. [104]

      "Well. What I found out was that the man who organized the farmers, their leader, was John Jenks."

      "Brian's ancestor? The one who came out from England?", Tom asked, hardly able to believe what Belinda was saying.

      "The very one! Mrs. Jackson checked it for me."

      "I wonder if the Jenks know anything about this?", Cindy asked.

      "I suspect they do", Mr. Piggot replied, "But I am sure it is not something they want everyone else to know about. It is one of those skeletons most of us have in our family cupboards."

      "Can I tell what I found out?", Tom asked, looking up at his father.

      "Yes. Do."

      "Dad asked me to search out what happened in the 1930's", Tom began. "I discovered that there was what they called a "Great Depression." A third of all Australians were out of work. There was no social security. Some people caught rabbits and sold them. Men, who took only a few belongings with them, done up in what they called "swags", left the cities and travelled through country areas, hoping to find work. It was a terrible time for many people. I am glad I wasn't alive then!"

      "I said I would find out what I could about Richard Williams", the man who built "The Place", Tom's Father cut in, realizing it was getting late, and he would soon need to take his guests home. "Richard Williams was a Welshman, who came to Australia after the First World War. He was a builder. He had a little money, and started work on the house in 1928. The bank lent him what he needed. However, when the Great Depression came, in the 1930's, he was in financial difficulty. He managed to struggle through, doing jobs for some of the farmers in the area. They paid him mostly with food. The bank was going to take his property away from him in 1939 to cover what he owed them. However, when the Second World War broke out that year, he enlisted in the Army. His pay mostly went to paying off his debts. When he came back from the war one of his legs was missing. It [105] had been blown off. He got round on crutches. He didn't marry. He was 80 when he died. That was in 1981."

      "The title deed tells us that that, after Richard Williams died, the house was bought by a Mr. Thrupp. I couldn't find out much about Mr. Thrupp, because, shortly after buying the property, he moved to Queensland. He is still there. He rented the house out after he left. Nobody seems to know much about those who rented the property. None of them remained long. There is some talk of one of the families being run out of town, but no-one will say much about this. We didn't shift into the district till several years later."

      Before Mr. Piggot finished speaking, Tom's mother and Elsa Hardacre returned to the kitchen, and began clearing the plates, glasses and what remained of the food from the table.

      "We had better be on our way", Mr. Piggot said, "I need to get you all home before its dark." [106]

Chapter 11

      On the following Friday afternoon, following the lunch break, Cindy discovered a letter from Tom on her desk. Tom was not at school that day. She wondered how the letter got there. She didn't have time to open it before Miss Blumenthal called the class to order. The children were in their sports gear. They were going to the oval for ball games. Cindy slipped the letter into her bag, which she threw across her shoulder. With other members of the class, she filed out into the playground. The children lined up, two by two, to walk to the oval. Sue ambled along beside Cindy. They talked as they walked, but low enough so as to avoid being overheard.

      "It is only a week until we have to present our project", Sue commented, "Do you think we have enough time to finish it?"

      "I hope so", replied Cindy, "We need just a few more details."

      "Belinda showed me what she has been doing with what we have collected. Her mother has been helping her with the computer. It looks great."

      "I know", Cindy replied, "Belinda is good at drawing, and setting out. I told her we would continue to search for the missing pieces of the puzzle, so that she will have the time to put it all together."

      "I notice that Lisa is not very happy", Sue reflected, "I wonder if they are having difficulty with their project. I notice she was fighting with some of her friends this morning. She seemed to be threatening them."

      "She was certainly in a black mood", Cindy responded, reflecting on the evil, menacing look Lisa had given her during the maths session that morning.

      Cindy was so preoccupied with the few remaining details necessary to complete the project "The Syndicate" was working on that she forgot about Tom's letter. It was only after the sports [107] afternoon had concluded, and as she was preparing to slip her schoolbag across her shoulders, that she remembered the letter. Sue had left early. Her father needed to buy her a new pair of shoes.

      Several teachers were still clearing up. Most of the students had left the oval, and were on their way home. Cindy rested on one of the wooden railings circling the oval. She placed her bag on her knees, and reached inside for the letter. Her fingers discovered it hidden among the worksheets she used that day.

      It was unusual for Tom to be writing to her. He had not done it before. She opened the envelope and pulled out the letter. She could see there wasn't much written on the paper. She unfolded the letter, and began to read.

Cindy,

      I have something important to show you. Meet me at "The Place" this afternoon after school.

Tom

      Cindy wondered what Tom had to show her that was so important. Maybe he had found some of the missing pieces of the puzzle, which would help them complete the project. She decided it would not be too far out of her way to call in at "The Place" as she made for home.

      One thing that did trouble her, however, was that she had not asked permission of Miss Blumenthal to visit the old house. She was caught between her excitement over what Tom might have to reveal, and disobeying her teacher's instruction. It did not take her long to decide that she would visit the house. Miss Blumenthal was nowhere around, so she couldn't ask her. And she would avoid going anywhere near the archaeological sight in the yard.

      When she came to the house, Cindy lifted the blue plastic tape, opened the gate, pushed her way through the blackberries [108] and small bushes, and made for the front of the house. She walked carefully up the front steps. She expected that Tom, hearing her steps, would appear at the front door. All she heard was the sound of her shoes on the wooden boards. Everything was still. She felt a stab of fear, but dismissed it. She decided it had no foundation.

      Cindy pushed open the front door. Tom didn't appear to be there. She couldn't be sure because it was so dark. Maybe, he hadn't arrived yet. She walked a few steps into the room. She was about to turn around and return through the front door, when she heard an explosion of noise behind her. She felt an arm round her neck. She was suddenly surrounded by bodies. She felt her arms being pulled back, and tied with a long strand of course material.

      "We've got the bitch. Miss Fancy Pants!"

      The voice, the spite, the hatred. It was obvious who her assailant was.

      "Teacher's not around to save her pet!" The voice came from behind her.

      The arm around her neck was thick, and the breathing heavy. It had to be Rachel. As she became used to the dark, she realised that Nancy had hold of her right shoulder and Tanya her left arm. She also caught sight of Samantha out of the corner of her eye. Samantha was standing apart from the others, her long black hair hanging over the front of her face.

      "Sit, Bitch", Lisa ordered.

      Cindy, her arms tied behind her back, bent her knees. It was difficult to get to the floor because she couldn't steady herself with her arms. Rachel suddenly released her arm from Cindy's neck and pushed down on her shoulders. Cindy fell back onto the floor. She quickly rolled onto her side and pushed herself to a seated position.

      Lisa Carbonelli walked around from behind Cindy to face her, a look of satisfaction on her face. She was standing, legs apart, and arms in front of her chest. [109]

      "You don't know what we have in store for you", she snarled, her eyes alive with malicious humour.

      "We need to know what your project is about", Nancy chimed in, mimicking her leader.

      "You do not know what grief you have caused me", Lisa hissed, her eyes widening as she stared at Cindy.

      "We don't want you at our school", Tanya snorted.

      "We want to know what your group is working on", Lisa said, slowly and deliberately, "Because we want to ruin your project. You see, the prize is rightfully ours. We do not want you to take it from us."

      Cindy had never felt this afraid. Her heart was pounding. As they continued with their threats, she realised she was not entirely powerless. If she had been totally powerless they would not have gone to the trouble of setting the trap. She realised that there was something about her that threatened them. Her breathing, and heartbeat began to slow a little. She did wonder, however, how long they would keep this up, and how far they would take it.

      "Your project", Lisa demanded again, "Tell us what your project is."

      "I don't have to tell you", Cindy responded.

      "Don't you", Lisa retorted, agitation in her voice. She imagined she could scare Cindy into talking. This wasn't happening. She would have to go further. "Show her Rachel!', Lisa ordered.

      "Show her what?", Rachel asked, looking a little confused.

      "This!", said Lisa, walking towards Cindy. She lifted her arm to the side and then brought it down hard on Cindy's left cheek.

      The blow from Lisa's palm knocked Cindy's face to the side. She felt pain in her cheekbone and numbness in the soft flesh of her cheek.

      "Lisa", Samantha screamed, "Don't do that. This was not in the plan." [110]

      Lisa paused a moment, looked over at Samantha, and hissed, "Chicken, are we?"

      "You shouldn't be doing this", replied Samantha, her whole body shaking.

      "Why not?"

      "Because it's wrong."

      "It is wrong for her to be come to our school and take over. We need to show her a lesson."

      Nancy and Tanya were observing the exchange between Lisa and Samantha with growing concern. Lisa observed their wavering loyalty. To bring them back into line, she yelled at Nancy.

      "You're with me, aren't you Nancy."

      Nancy froze.

      "Come on", Lisa urged. Looking down at Cindy, she said, "You hit her. Show me you are with me."

      Nancy looked at the terror in Cindy's eyes, and then back at Lisa. She fought with herself. Going against Lisa, when she had been one of her closest friends, would have consequences she did not like to think about. Words caught in her throat. Nancy looked across at Tanya, and read her own fear in Tanya's eyes.

      "It's wrong", Tanya said, in a voice so low it could hardly be heard, "This is wrong Lisa."

      "If you two don't have the stomach for it", Lisa scolded, "Then get out! Leave!"

      "Release her", Samantha cut in, having gained strength from the other two.

      "Out", said Lisa, "Or I will do the same to the three of you."

      Rachel stood by. Her simple mind unable to understand what was happening.

      Nancy looked at Tanya and Samantha, and then back at Lisa. "Let her go", she said quietly.

      "Out!", Lisa screamed, "Out! Out! Out!", her voice rising with each word. [111]

      Nancy bent down to untie the cloth rope that bound Cindy's hands. Lisa moved with the quickness of lightening to where Nancy was squatting. She kicked her in the face, using all the force she could muster. Nancy fell back on the floor, clutching her face and screaming with pain. Recovering, several seconds later, she got to her feet and made for the door. She was followed by Tanya and Samantha. They quickly descended the front steps, Nancy holding her face in a cupped hand. They raced through the bushes, where they were scratched by blackberry thorns. They swung open the front gate, and ran off down the street.

      For a moment all was quiet. When the noise of footsteps died away, Lisa returned her attention to Cindy.

      "I'll teach you a lesson", she yelled at Cindy, as if Cindy was responsible for the departure of her friends.

      Cindy, who had observed the conflict between Lisa and Nancy, Tanya and Samantha, now felt even more vulnerable. She was alone with Lisa and her dumb side-kick, Rachel.

      "Drag her to her feet", Lisa shouted, her whole body full of rage. Rachel did as she was instructed, yanking Cindy to her feet by her hair. "Hold her", she ordered. She took one of her shoes off and held it in her hand. "I always wanted to improve your looks", she said, jealously welling up into a murderous spite. She raised her arm, ready to bring it down on Cindy's left cheek, already smarting from the previous blow. Cindy closed her eyes, turning her face to the side, waiting for the blow to fall.

      At that precise moment, Lisa heard the sound of the front gate squealing on its hinges. Her hand paused in mid air. She quickly put her shoe back on her foot. She grabbed another length of material from the pocket in her blouse and tied it across Cindy's mouth.

      "Let us get her outside", she said.

      They dragged Cindy through the kitchen, and out onto the side porch. While being yanked down the side steps, Cindy lost her balance and tumbled onto the ground. Her face was grazed and covered in dirt. Grit got between her teeth, and she spat it out. Lisa and Rachel dragged her to her feet. They pulled her [112] through the bushes, and hid behind a tree in the corner of the backyard. Cindy tried to call out, but the material covering her mouth muffled her words.

      "You call out and you're dead meat", Lisa threatened.

      They looked back at the house. They could see a torch in the loungeroom. The light moved into the bedrooms. It returned to the loungeroom, and then moved into the kitchen. The torch flickered again in the loungeroom, and then disappeared. The three young people heard heavy footsteps descending the front steps. Several minutes later they heard a car start up. It moved off, the sound disappearing into the distance.

      Lisa didn't now what to do with her prisoner. She didn't want to release her. If she did, Cindy would make her way home, and soon the whole town would know what happened. However, she had to get home herself, and so did Rachel.

      "Help me tie her up", Lisa said to Rachel, "Hold her."

      Lisa untied the material binding Cindy's hands. She dragged her over to a nearby tree, and pulled her arms around the tree, tying them tightly.

      "Come on", she said to Rachel, "Let's get out of here."

      Lisa took off, pushing her way through tall bushes, Rachel stumbling behind. Cindy, tied to the base of the tree, listened as the sound of their bodies, pushing through the long grass and overgrown bushes, faded away to silence. It was dark and overcast. She began hearing noises, the chirping of crickets, the rustle of undergrowth, the occasional bird hopping from branch to branch. She didn't know whether to feel relieved, or scared. Lisa was gone, but night had descended. She pulled at the material that bound her hands, but it had been tied too tightly. She couldn't loosen the knot.

      Now that she was free to think, she realized her mother would be worried. She would be beside herself. She wouldn't know where to look. Cindy was hoping against hope that she would not have to spend the night in the open, unable to move. It was getting cold, and she had no way of rugging up. She couldn't call out. It was most unlikely that anyone would come to the [113] house at night. Cindy began talking to herself, in her mind, telling herself that she mustn't be frightened. This wasn't easy. Every noise stirred up her fear, fear she tried to dampen down.

      When Cindy hadn't returned home after school her mother became uneasy. As the time dragged on and there was still no sight of Cindy, she decided to ring Cindy's friends, to see whether she had stopped off at their places. Neither Sue's father nor Belinda's mother had seen her. By late afternoon, as darkness was descending, Elsa became desperate. She took up the phone and rang Tom's father.

      "Have you seen Cindy?", she asked.

      "No", he replied, "Isn't she at home."

      "She didn't come home from school", Elsa replied, bursting into tears. After several minutes, she collected herself, and continued, "I don't know where she is. I am terribly worried. She has never done this before. It is so unlike her."

      "Have you called Constable Kemp?", Mr. Piggot asked.

      "Not yet", replied Elsa, "I didn't want to ring before I had checked with Cindy's friends."

      "Don't worry about anything", Tom's father said, "I will ring Constable Kemp, and then drive over to see you. There has to be an explanation. You may find Cindy will arrive before I do."

      A quarter of an hour later Elsa Hardacre heard a car pull into her drive. She opened the front door and saw Constable Kemp getting out of police waggon. He waved to her. She turned on the outside light as he made his way up the path towards the front door."

      "Is Cindy home yet", Constable Kemp asked, hoping for a positive response.

      "No", Elsa replied, "I suppose Mr. Piggot told you she has been missing since mid-afternoon."

      "Yes", he replied, as she ushered him inside.

      No sooner was the policeman seated than a second car pulled up outside. Tom's father jumped from his car, and ran towards the front door. He didn't need to ring the bell as the door [114] opened and Elsa Hardacre led him inside. The two men sat together on the lounge.

      "Tell me all you can", Constable Kemp said.

      "There is not much to tell", Elsa replied, "Cindy should have been home about 3:30 this afternoon, and, as you can see, it is now 7, and she is not here. I thought she might have been at one of her friends' homes. But they haven't seen her."

      Sizing up the situation, Mr. Piggot began, "I guess we have to think of the other likely places she could be."

      Constable Kemp began jotting down possibilities. Had she wandered along the creek and hurt herself? Had she gone back to school to collect something, and been locked in the building? Had she fallen and knocked herself out? It would be important to contact Miss Blumenthal to see whether she knew anything. Mr. Piggot wondered whether Cindy had visited the library. He would check with the librarian. The library was open till 7:30. Maybe Cindy was absorbed with the project, following up a lead.

      Once Constable Kemp had completed his list, he closed his notebook. "I need to check these possibilities", he said, as he put the book in his shirt pocket.

      "You stay with Mrs. Hardacre", he said to Mr. Piggot. Contact me on my mobile if Cindy comes home, or if you have some news." He opened the front door, and excused himself. They heard the police car spring into action. The car reversed out of the drive and disappeared down the road, its headlights searching the footpath on either side of the road.

      "He will find her. I'm sure", Tom's father said, a reassuring note in his voice.

      They waited, hoping for a call any moment. None came. At 9pm Constable Kemp returned, his sunken shoulders indicating that his search has been in vain.

      "I have no positive news", he said, as he slumped onto the lounge, "We have nothing to go on."

      "Nothing!", echoed Tom's father.

      "Not a thing. No one seems to know anything about Cindy's whereabouts." [115]

      The three adults didn't know what to say to each other. They didn't know what to do, where to turn. There were no leads, there was nothing they could follow up. The men hated feeling helpless.

      Elsa went to the kitchen to get the two men a drink. She needed to keep herself occupied.

      "Is there somewhere we haven't thought of?", Mr. Piggot asked.

      "Not that I am aware of", Constable Kemp replied, "I am out of ideas."

      Mr. Piggot was looking across at the dining room table. A large project book was open on the table. Looking for a way to distract Elsa's attention from her fears, he called out, "What's the book."

      "It's Cindy's project", Elsa replied, "Belinda has been working on putting it together. She brought it over to show Cindy today."

      "The project on 'The Place,'" Mr. Piggot asked.

      "Yes."

      "Did you say "The Place"?", Constable Kemp interrupted.

      "Yes. Four of them, including my Tom, have been working on the history of "The Place", Mr. Piggot replied.

      "That's right. I remember now. They were the ones who found the axe."

      Suddenly, Constable Kemp jumped to his feet. "Why didn't I think of this before", he said, "Why was I so dumb. When I passed the old house late this afternoon, I thought I heard noises. I went in to investigate, but I saw nothing. I wonder?"

      Constable Kemp reached for his cap. Tom's father shot out of his chair.

      "I am coming with you", he said.

      The two men ran through the front door, jumped into the police van and were off.

      Meanwhile back at the house, Cindy had adjusted as much as she could to the darkness, the noises and the cold. She remembered a talk given by a Buddhist monk, who had been [116] invited to speak to the class. It was at a time they were looking at other cultures. He told them of contests between monks, conducted on cold winter's days, when the ground was covered with ice and snow. The monks had to concentrate, to meditate and warm their bodies. The monk who melted the most snow and ice was the winner. As she sat against the tree, feeling colder by the minute, Cindy felt that it might be a good idea to at least try this. She made herself as still as she could. She began listening to her breathing, as her breath went in and out. She began to feel a little calmer. She imagined her body gradually heating up. She began to feel warmer. She couldn't tell whether she was imagining it. But she supposed she was warmer.

      Cindy was facing towards the house. She could only see part of it through the trees, the bushes, and the tall grass. As she concentrated on her breathing, and on trying to heat her body, she thought she saw something against the wall of the house. It moved. She strained her eyes. Two figures, ghost-like figures, appeared on the wall of the house. It was as if it was a screen, and they were figures projected onto the screen by a projector. These figures gradually became more distinct. There was a man and a woman. She was sure they were looking at her. Like the old Aboriginal woman the four young people had seen, for a fleeting moment, on the inside wall of the old loungeroom, their eyes were full of love. They looked at each other affectionately, and then down at a baby the woman was carrying. Then they appeared to look at her. It was as if they wanted to reach out to her, but couldn't.

      Suddenly, this apparition was dissolved by the sound of anxious male voices. Cindy heard the sound of heavy shoes on the front steps of the house. Torchlights once again lit up the inside of the house. She wanted to call out, but couldn't.

      "She doesn't appear to be here", she heard Tom's father say.

      "No", said Constable Kemp, "Are you sure you have checked everywhere?" [117]

      "There is nowhere else to check", Mr. Piggot replied, disappointment in his voice.

      "I thought this was where she would be", Constable Kemp said, "She had to be here."

      "We are going to have to go back and tell her mother we haven't found her", Tom's father replied.

      Cindy heard the two men walking back down the front steps.

      "One more place we could look", Tom's father said, as they walked towards the front gate, "That hole."

      "Why didn't I think of that", Constable Kemp responded.

      The two men rushed over to the hole, shining their torches into the darkness. Nothing! They stood for a few seconds, looking down into the hole.

      "I guess we had better be getting back to Mrs. Hardacre. Let her know that we haven't found anything. They set off again for the front gate. Constable Kemp, who was in the lead, was about to lift the plastic tape, when Mr. Piggot said, "I guess there is no harm in us looking round the grounds."

      "No. Let's do it. Though I don't expect to find anything", Constable Kemp replied.

      They began at the front, gradually working their way round to the back. It was difficult to see anything. The yard was so overgrown. Pushing his way past a clump of bushes, Mr. Piggot shined his torch on the tree in front of him. He almost jumped out of his skin. There before him, with a mouth gag, and dried blood and dirt on her face, was Cindy Hardacre. [118]

Chapter 12

      The following morning Cindy slept late. She looked pale and weak. Her mother brought her breakfast in bed. The food revived her a little, and she propped herself on her pillows. She asked her mother to bring her the project book Belinda had been preparing on the history of "The Place." She took a small notebook and pencil from her bedside table. She went carefully through the material Belinda had arranged so beautifully, checking for critical details that might be missing.

      It was only when she reached the end that she began writing in her notebook. There was only one bit of information missing. It concerned the last people to rent the house. When she had finished her search, she put both books on the small table beside her bed, and lay back on the pillows her mother had arranged behind her head.

      "There has to be some connection between what I saw last night, between the man, woman and young baby, and the house", she thought to herself, "But no one can tell us anything. It is almost as if that period is a blank in peoples' minds." Cindy seemed to have reached a dead end. Was there no-one who could fill in the details of what happened in the early 1990's? Cindy was about to give up when the thought occurred to her that maybe people didn't want to remember. Had something happened that people were refusing to speak about? Maybe they were purposely keeping silent? Were they afraid, or ashamed?

      Who would know? Who could she speak to who would give her an honest reply. She thought for a moment. Then suddenly the answer came.

      "Mum", she called out to Elsa, who was in the kitchen, "Will you take me to see Mrs. Burns."

      Elsa put her head in the door. "Mrs. Burns? Why do you want to see Mrs. Burns?"

      "She might have the answer to the missing piece of the puzzle." [119]

      "What puzzle?"

      "The project. 'The Place.'"

      "Why would she have the answer?"

      "She would be honest with me."

      "I don't think you should be going anywhere", her Mother replied, "You should be resting up. You had a dreadful night."

      "But I want to go. I really want to go. Unless I find out what I need to find out, our project will not be complete."

      "Couldn't the others go?"

      "They could, but there are some special things I would like to ask on my own."

      Elsa Hardacre shrugged her shoulders. It was difficult to resist Cindy when she made up her mind. She knew her daughter would not be able to rest until she had spoken to Mrs. Burns.

      "OK", she said, "You had better get dressed. I will get the car out. I don't want you to stay out too long. As soon as you have spoken to Mrs. Burns, you need to come home and rest up."

      When she got out of bed to dress, Cindy's body complained loudly. She was bruised. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she could see what a mess her face was. She was not a pretty sight.

      It took no more than five minutes to drive to the nursing home. Cindy, anxious to ask her questions, jumped out of the car, and waited for her mother to join her at the front gate. They walked together up the path towards the entrance. The glass doors opened, and they walked into the vestibule.

      Cindy approached the reception counter. The lady who had introduced her to Mrs. Burns wasn't there. She didn't work weekends. Another lady, a stranger, was behind the desk.

      "My! You look like you have fallen and hurt yourself", she said, examining Cindy's face.

      "It is not as bad as it looks", Cindy replied. Elsa raised her eyes, as if to say, "Don't you believe it."

      "I have come to see Mrs. Burns", Cindy said.

      "Is she expecting you", the lady asked.

      "No. But it is important that I see her." [120]

      "I think she might be resting", the lady replied.

      "But I need to see her", Cindy insisted, her eyes pleading her case.

      The lady drew in her breath, and breathed out a deep sight. She looked down at Cindy, and said, "Well, she should be resting, but I will see if she will see you."

      The lady excused herself, and walked down the corridor. She disappeared into Mrs. Burns' room. Cindy heard the two women speaking. The receptionist emerged from the room, walked back to where Cindy and her mother were standing, and said, "Mrs. Burns will see you. But you are not to be long. She needs her rest."

      Cindy and Elsa followed the lady down the corridor. When they reached Mrs. Burns' room, the lady stood at the door and said, "Mrs. Burns, Cindy Hardacre and her mother are here to see you. I told Cindy she is not to say long."

      Cindy and her mother entered Mrs. Burns' room. As Cindy walked towards her, the old lady said, "I think we've met before, haven't we! You look as if you have been in a scrape."

      "She has", Elsa responded.

      "I'm sure you'll mend", the old lady said.

      "We haven't met", Cindy's mother began, "Mr. Name is Elsa Hardacre, I am Cindy's Mother."

      "I guessed that. Though you two don't look much alike!"

      "We aren't. Cindy is adopted. My husband and I adopted her after her parents died."

      Mrs. Burns was quiet for a few moments. She was obviously tired. When she did speak, it was to Cindy.

      "I believe you have come to ask me more questions."

      "Yes. Important questions. I wanted to ask you because I knew you would tell me the truth."

      The old lady smiled. "Truth", she said, "Now that is an interesting word! What is this truth you want to know."

      Cindy explained to Mrs. Burns that the project, about which she and her friends had come to see her earlier, was almost finished. There were only a few more details that had to be filled [121] in. She explained that she had asked around, and no one seemed to know anything about the people who lived in "The Place" in the early 1990's. This seemed so strange. There had to be people around who knew.

      Mrs. Burns looked down at her bony hands resting in her lap. Cindy could see that there was a lot of emotion in the old lady's face.

      "You don't have to tell me", Cindy said, sensing that she might be upsetting the old woman.

      Mrs. Burns did not reply immediately. She was obviously choosing her words carefully.

      "Cindy, the truth can sometimes be painful. Some people don't speak the truth because they don't want to hurt others. Others don't speak the truth because it is too painful for them to admit that they were wrong."

      Cindy was leaning forward to catch the words. She knew something important was coming. Mrs. Burns was leading up to it.

      "Early in 1990 a family shifted into town. They were from the city. The husband and wife, Greg and Liz Hartman, had been married a little over a year. They had a small baby. "Cindy" they called her, the same name as your. She was a darling. They shifted into the house you are calling "The Place."

      "I was living with my people on the outskirts of the town. The conditions we were living in were poor. We were not wanted. This young couple visited us. They became our friends. They began to ask questions of their fellow whites. They asked how it was that they could allow us to live in such bad conditions. They were not pushy, but their questions were resented by people who had lived in the town, and the surrounding district, for most of their lives. When the young couple began talking about native title, about this being our land before it was theirs, this was too much for some of them.

      "People got together to work out how they could get rid of the Hartmans. They wanted to shove them off, back to the city. But they hit a brick wall. There was no legal way of having them [122] removed. However, several of the men decided on drastic action. They knew the Hartmans occasionally made long trips to the city. Before one of these trips, one of the men tampered with the brakes on the Hartman's car. The brakes gave way on a corner, and the two young people were killed. The baby survived. Where she is now, I do not know."

      As the old lady was speaking, Elsa Hardacre became agitated. She placed her hand over her forehead to cover her eyes. Her chest was heaving underneath her blouse.

      "Who was the man?", Cindy asked.

      "I don't know that I should tell you", Mrs. Burns replied. She wrung her hands, remaining quiet for several minutes. The silence was so deep that Cindy heard the ticking of a small clock on Mrs. Burn's bedside table.

      "I suppose I could tell you", the old lady replied, "Everyone in the town knows, even though they won't speak about it. And it may help you to understand his daughter."

      "Who was it", Cindy asked, hardly able to contain herself.

      "It was Luigi Carbonelli."

      "Carbonelli! Lisa's father", Cindy whispered hoarsely.

      "Yes", Mrs. Burns replied, "Lisa's father. There was a court case. Everyone knew he did it. But nothing could be proved. He felt so bad about it afterwards that he took to drink. From what I am told, he is scarcely ever home. When he comes home, he can't control his drinking, or his violence. Lisa and her mother have had to live with the shame of it, and with the beatings, for years."

      Cindy felt strong emotion rise in her throat. She found it hard to process what she had been told. It would take time. After a few more moments of silence, she asked the question that had been on her mind since the previous evening. It was the type of question that could pierce rain clouds and bring down the rain.

      "What happened to the little girl?"

      "I don't know", Mrs. Burns replied, "I don't know. I wish I did." [123]

      A new voice broke into the conversation. It was Elsa Hardacre, "I know", she said. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

      She turned to Cindy, reaching out her hands to embrace her.

      "It was you Cindy. You were that little girl!"

      "Me?"

      "Yes, you."

      "Me!", Cindy said again, hardly able to take it in.

      "Yes, you. Brian and I were friends of your parents. We were visiting your parents on the weekend they were killed. We had come up from the city. We were travelling behind them, when their car ran off the road and into a tree."

      "Why didn't you tell me."

      "We were going to, but there didn't seem to be a right time. We thought it better to wait till you were older, when you would be able to understand. Then, when Brian died, I didn't have the strength to tell you. I had more than enough to do to cope with my grief. Now you have discovered it all on your own. You are a true child of your real parents."

      While Elsa was talking, Mrs. Burns' wrinkled face began to come alive. Her sunken cheeks filled out. Her eyes were opening wide. Her chin was trembling. When Elsa finished speaking, the old lady's thin, sinuous arms reached out. Cindy pulled away from Elsa, and walked into the embrace of the old Aboriginal woman.

      "Cindy. My baby! I have found you. After all these years. I knew there was something special about you when you visited me the other day."

      The tears rolled down her cheeks, as she swayed from side to side on her chair, delirious with joy.

      Cindy hardly slept that night. She fell asleep as the sun was rising and didn't wake till late the following morning. When she woke her mind began going over what had happened the previous day. It all seemed unreal. She had filled in the gap in the history of "The Place." And she had discovered who her parents [124] were. She had always loved Elsa. But now she loved her even more.

      Cindy was lying on her bed, in her tracksuit, going over the details of the events of the previous day for the hundredth time, when the doorbell rang. She heard an unfamiliar voice, muffled because of the distance.

      "People to see you", he mother called out from the door.

      Before she had time to get up from the bed, Lisa and her mother entered the room. Lisa had a black eye, and she was cut about the mouth. Her mother looked as if she had had no sleep. There were bags under her eyes, and several scars on her face. She had obviously been attractive when she was younger. But the years had been hard on her.

      Two different emotions arose in Cindy's stomach - fear and concern. Lisa's eyes were on the ground, as her mother spoke.

      "Lisa has something to say to you", Mrs. Carbonelli began.

      Lisa said nothing. Silence hung in the air.

      "Lisa. Don't you have something to say to Cindy?", Lisa's mother continued.

      Lisa mumbled something.

      "What was that?", her mother asked.

      "Sorry", said Lisa, through gritted teeth.

      "Sorry for what?", her mother persisted.

      "Sorry for hitting you, and for tying you to the tree", Lisa said grudgingly, stumbling over the words.

      The words out, she glanced up at Cindy, defiance, dejection, and defeat in her eyes.

      Cindy stood silent for a few moments. She thought of Lisa's father, of the shame and violence the family lived with. She thought of what happened the previous evening, when she was kidnapped, slapped and chained to the tree. She remembered the figures that appeared on the weatherboards, the strong desire to question Mrs. Burns. The discovery!

      "Thank you", she said, briefly reaching out her arm to touch Lisa's shoulder. Lisa drew back, smothering a sob. [125]

      "We must be going home", Lisa's mother said, looking up at Elsa Hardacre, and walking towards the front door.

      "Thank you for coming", Elsa called after mother and daughter, as they made the way down the front path.

      The following Friday morning, the final day of term, was taken up with the presentation of projects. The boys who had worked on the history of the pub had the class in stitches. The two projects that drew the greatest attention, however, were those on the Jenks Family and "The Place." Mr. Hall was present, and spent the afternoon studying the projects, trying to work out which would win first prize.

      That evening, after tea, the whole school, together with parents and friends, met in the school hall for the awarding of term prizes. The students of Miss Blumenthal's class wondered who would win the prize for the best project. When it came time for this prize to be announced, Mr. Hall walked to the front of the platform.

      "The work done by the students", he began, "Was of such a high quality that it was difficult to decide a winner. Two projects stand out as exceptional. It is difficult to decide between them.

      "The project on the Jenks family, worked on by Lisa, Nancy, Tanya, Rachel, and Samantha, was excellent. It was designed as a series of news broadcasts, with text and graphics. When they presented their project in class, you felt that you were in an actual newsroom. You experienced the excitement associated with breaking news. I sure some of these young women will find their way into the news business.

      "The project on "The Place" was also exceptional. The research was worthy of children who are much older. The way the project was set out revealed more than a touch of professionalism. Cindy, Tom, Belinda, and Sue are to be congratulated on their work. These young people are sure to go far in their chosen fields.

      "I found it impossible to decide between these two projects. I have spoken to Neate's Pharmacy, who provided the [126] prize, and they have generously offered to award two prizes. Let us therefore congratulate these two lots of young people.

      The hall broke out into applause, and the young people, who had been brought onto the stage, looked down at the floor, feeling excited, and embarrassed. As the applause continued, Cindy walked slowly over to Lisa, touching her on the shoulder.

      "Congratulations", Cindy said, as she looked up at Lisa.

      The sound gurgled in Lisa's throat. As the applause began to die down, Cindy walked back to her friends.

      The children started to walk from the stage, but Mr. Hall called them back.

      "I have one more thing to say", he began, "Another presentation to make."

      The hall was silent, the atmosphere deadly quiet. People wondered what was coming.

      "Some friends of mine insisted that they be present at this presentation. Friends from the University of New England."

      The door onto the stage opened and two men and a woman walked forward.

      One of the men, whom Mr. Hall introduced as Professor Hinton, stepped up to the microphone, and began:

      "During their work on "The Place", Belinda, Sue, Tom, and Cindy uncovered remains - artifacts and human bones. As the result of their work, "The Place" will become an important archaeological site. Their work will be recognized when the history of the site is written up. Because of this, we would like to present each of them with a small plaque, on which is written:

      This is to celebrate the pioneering work of Cindy Hardacre, Tom Piggot, Belinda Tunks, and Sue Lambton, in the excavation of an ancient Aboriginal site at "The Place." We recognize their effort by naming them honorary members of the archaeological faculty of the University of New England. [127]

      The plaques bear the university crest, and the names of Professor Hinton, Associate Professor Jarman, and Dr. Medcalf.

      Almost before Professor Hinton had finished speaking, there was an explosion of deafening applause.

      After the prize-giving was over, and teachers, students and parents were making their way across the school grounds to their cars, Cindy, who was grasping her plaque to her chest with one hand, and her mother's hand with the other, felt a hand on her shoulder. She felt a gentle squeeze. She heard a voice whisper, "Thanks. And I really am sorry." Cindy looked around, but Lisa had disappeared into the crowd. [128]