Chapter 1

I looked up at the stone tower which disappeared into the clear blue sky. I squeezed Olivia’s hand. She looked back at me with her deep, brown eyes and raised her eyebrows. It was almost like she was silently saying, It’s not too late to back out!

My tummy fluttered with nerves and I noticed my breaths were quick and shallow. I felt Mum’s reassuring hand on my shoulder. My breathing calmed.

My little brother, Max, was jumping off a low, stone wall, striking the air with a karate kick each time. He didn’t seem to appreciate what was going on. That today was a day of big change for our family. Dad waved at him to get off the wall and come and join the rest of us. I saw Max’s mouth utter the words ‘Aw, man!’

I smiled.

The courtyard we were standing in was vast—it looked as big as my entire primary school! All around the perimeter of the immaculately paved courtyard were various old buildings glinting in the sunlight. Big, sandstone buildings with pointy tops. All that was missing was a princess trailing her hair out a top window.

A loudspeaker let out a little squeal as it came to life. A voice boomed into the air. ‘Everyone, please gather around the fountain.’

We shuffled over to the fountain in the middle of the courtyard.

‘It is now time to farewell your families,’ the voice said. Suddenly, everything hit me all at one. What was I doing here? Had I really agreed to this? Was I really going to live here, without my family? I looked up at Mum and searched her face. Maybe she thought this was a bad idea—maybe we should just go home.

Mum’s eyes were glistening. ‘I’m so proud of you, Ella,’ she sniffed.

‘Me too, possum,’ Dad said, putting out his hand to ruffle my hair. ‘I know you’ll do your best.’ I instinctively jumped back—I’d spent ages getting my hair just right for my first day. I’d pulled back my long, thick, brown hair into a high ponytail this morning and secured it with a white ribbon. I’d read in the Student Handbook that you have to wear a ribbon at this school. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love accessorising as much as the next girl, but the rules of this place said we had to wear a white ribbon. I remember standing in the uniform shop in the summer holidays and complaining to the lady who worked there. ‘How am I going to express myself with a plain white ribbon?!’ The lady thought that was really funny, but I have no idea why.

I straightened my royal blue blazer. It felt odd to be wearing a school uniform on a Saturday. But Saturday was the day all the new Year 7 girls had to start school.

Max tugged my blazer sleeve. His eyes were suddenly filled with worry. It was like he’d finally worked out why we were here. ‘I’m really going to miss you, Ella,’ he said in a small voice.

‘Oh, Max,’ I said, pulling my little brother into a big hug. I wasn’t going to miss Max’s snail collection. Or his messy room. Or his stinky axolotl tank. But I would miss him.

‘And you,’ I said, turning to my little sister. ‘I’d better not come home in the holidays to find you’ve taken over my room!’

Olivia didn’t laugh. She just nodded sadly.

‘Come here,’ I said, grabbing her arm and hugging her tight.

‘Don’t go,’ Olivia whispered.

‘I’ll miss you, too,’ I whispered back.

Mum and Dad hugged me close. I could tell Mum was putting on a brave face, holding back tears. But Dad’s eyes shone with pride. As they released me, Mum straightened up my uniform.

‘Now, would all students please gather together, and all families please depart by the main gates. Thank you for being here today to support your girls as they start their new adventure,’ the voice said over the loudspeaker.

I looked around and saw lots of girls with teary, red eyes. Some were clinging to their parents, but others were bouncing up and down with excitement.

Next to my family, I could see my best friend, Zoe, hugging her parents. Her teenage brother stood awkwardly beside them, but after her parents released her, he also pulled her into a big hug. She gave a final wave to her parents, who joined my family as they walked towards the main gates together.

I linked arms with my best friend, and we shuffled over to the collection of students in the middle of the courtyard. We turned to watch as the families slowly walked through the giant gates at the entrance to the school. I gave a final wave as my entire family disappeared out of view.

Deep breath.

‘Gather around,’ the voice said. Now we could see who was speaking. It was an older woman with a warm face and small, round glasses perched on the end of her nose. She had a welcoming smile and reminded me of my Nanna Kate. But maybe a bit younger. I knew immediately who it was: Mrs Sinclair, the school Headmistress. I’d had an interview with her last year when I was applying for a position at the school.

‘Welcome, welcome,’ she gushed. ‘Welcome to Eden College!’

The girls around me released a collective gasp—it was a mix of excitement and nerves. We were finally here! I couldn’t quite believe it myself. I was an Eden Girl!

Suddenly, all my nerves melted away and I remembered why I wanted to be an Eden Girl in the first place.

It started last year.

Zoe had told me at the beginning of Year 6 that she was going to Eden College for high school the next year. She thought I’d be mad, but I was just sad. Everyone knows that Eden College is a prestigious boarding school for girls, which means all the girls live at the school. Prestigious is a word I like to use in my writing. It means special or fancy or highly regarded. To be honest, I was a little jealous that Zoe was going to Eden. I’d heard all about the amazing buildings, the fabulous teachers and all the incredible opportunities there. Like, Eden has an award-winning orchestra (which seemed totally unfair because Zoe doesn’t play an instrument anymore and I play the flute). It also has a gymnastics program, drama club, musical society, dance troupe and debating team. These are all things I like to do, but hardly any of them are offered at my local high school.

I asked Mum if I could apply for Eden College, but she said it was too expensive. I was forlorn. That means pitifully sad. Not only was I missing out on all these incredible things, but I was losing my best friend at the same time.

Then one day, about halfway through last year, Mum and Dad came into my room and sat on my bed. I knew that meant we were about to have one of our Very Serious Conversations (or VSCs, as Olivia and I call them). These only happen when big things are going on, like when our parents tell us we are moving house or getting a new baby brother or that Great Nanna Peggy is really sick. So, Mum and Dad closed my bedroom door behind them and sat on my bed with their VSC faces on. Mum had a pile of brochures in her hand and I wondered for a split second if they were selling the house and moving us to Abu Dhabi like my friend Nadine’s parents did.

But it wasn’t about Abu Dhabi.

Mum spread the brochures out on the bed and they were all about Eden College. I looked at her with a confused face, because she’d already told me that I couldn’t be an Eden Girl. But that’s when she showed me a brochure titled Scholarships. Scholarships are special places awarded to students who are really good at different things. And they get to go to the school for free. There were academic scholarships, music scholarships and sports scholarships. But Dad pointed to one called the All-Rounder Scholarship. This made no sense to me, so he explained it’s for a girl who likes to do all sorts of things. A girl who is good at school work, but also loves to get involved in activities like sport, music, drama and other things which ‘enrich the school’, as the brochure said. I admitted I was doing pretty well at school, especially in writing. And I play the flute and do gymnastics and ballet. And just that year I’d learnt to do debating, which is a fancy word for organised arguing (and I happen to be really good at that, too). So maybe I could get the All-Rounder Scholarship?

The next few months were full of tests and interviews. I had to go to Eden College with my parents and meet the headmistress and tell her how much I would like to be an Eden Girl.

Then we waited.

We waited for what seemed like an eternity. But finally, one spring day, I got a letter in the mail. It was addressed to me and had the Eden College crest on the front. I gently opened the crisp, white envelope and read the letter inside.

I was in!

‘As you all know from your interviews, I am the Headmistress, Mrs Sinclair,’ Mrs Sinclair said, her voice snapping me back to the present. ‘And this is the Year 7 Coordinator and your Housemistress, Ms Montgomery. She is also the Vice Headmistress of the school.’

Mrs Sinclair gestured to her left where a tall, thin woman stood. She had a narrow face and dark eyebrows which pointed upwards like sharp arrows. She wore black pants with a matching blazer, a white business shirt and what my Nanna Kate would describe as ‘sensible’ shoes.

‘Welcome,’ she said in a cool voice. ‘As your Housemistress, it is my job to look after you all in the dormitory. I trust you will quickly grasp the rules of Eden College. Part of being an Eden Girl is learning to be respectful, and that is something I demand from all the girls under my care.’

Zoe raised her eyebrows at me.

‘Yes, indeed, respect is important,’ Mrs Sinclair said with a smile. ‘But we also want our girls to feel empowered, supported and valued.’

Ms Montgomery took a sharp, audible breath and glanced upwards. She seemed annoyed.

‘So, if you would please follow me,’ Mrs Sinclair continued, ‘I will show you to the dormitory. This is where you will live while you are here at school. It will be your home away from home. I do hope you like it.’

All the girls in the group nervously shuffled forward, following Mrs Sinclair and Ms Montgomery as they led us through the courtyard. We passed more of the old- fashioned sandstone buildings with their pointy tops and majestic columns. The path we were walking on was swept clean, and beautifully manicured gardens hugged the edges.

‘To your right, you will see the sports and aquatic centre,’ Mrs Sinclair said, pointing to a more modern-looking building. I peeked through one of the fogged up windows and could see a massive swimming pool with lane ropes, racing blocks and diving boards.

‘And over there to your left is the music and drama centre,’ Mrs Sinclair said, pointing.

My heart started to beat just a little faster. Music and drama were subjects that I adored and I couldn’t wait to see what we would be doing in that building.

We passed the main building, which housed the classrooms, and emerged onto an expansive green lawn. The lawn was rimmed with beautiful gardens of roses and there was an abstract metal statue in the centre. Beyond the lawn we could see a gorgeous set of houses.

‘And down here are the dorms,’ Mrs Sinclair said with a gushing sigh, and led us towards a building to our right.

It looked like a cottage with its pointed, red brick roof, but it was much, much bigger than any cottage I had ever stayed in. There were at least three storeys, maybe four. And it was stunning.

We walked into the foyer of the house and saw a large, cascading staircase with a dark brown, shiny banister. If Olivia was here she would have raced up the stairs and whooshed down the banister on her bottom, probably falling over at the end. That girl has no sense of propriety (that means having good manners and being all proper).

It was at that point Mrs Sinclair said she was going to leave us in the ‘capable hands’ of Ms Montgomery. I thought her hands looked more cold and bony than capable.

‘The Year 7 rooms are on the second floor and there are four girls to a room. Years 8 and 9 are on the third floor and our senior girls in Years 10 to 12 are in a different building. On this first floor, past the stairs on your right, is the study room. And down here on your left,’ Ms Montgomery said, as she gestured through the foyer and down the hallway, ‘is the common room. This is the student lounge where you are able to spend leisure time with your classmates.’

We walked into a huge lounge room which had couches, bean bags, cushions and a large TV mounted on the wall.

‘I see you all eyeing-off the television,’ Ms Montgomery said, disapprovingly. ‘I’ll have you know, television is only to be viewed during set hours and once all homework is done.’

The place was empty except for our Year 7 group. All the other year levels were returning to school tomorrow. Mrs Sinclair had said this was so we could settle in quietly without the house being too full.

I began to wonder who was going to be in my room.

As if reading my mind, Ms Montgomery told us all to find a place to sit. ‘I am now going to sort you into your dormitory rooms.’