THE bell for morning assembly chimed across the foggy courtyard. Lina and Mary rushed to their home room to lock their satchels away in the narrow metal lockers before assembly. Lina tucked the notebook with her story into her blazer pocket.

‘Break a leg!’ Mary called as they parted ways at the entrance to the school hall.

‘Thanks!’ Lina called back as she continued along the side of the building to the backstage entrance. Taking a deep breath she opened the door that led to that shadowy, secret place and mounted the short flight of stairs.

While the Mother Superior led the school through the hymns and read out the notices, Lina sat on the stage in a hard-backed chair alongside five other girls also waiting to perform. As she looked out over the sea of heads, a wave of fear washed through her and clamped at her heart. What if they don’t like my story? she worried. What if they laugh at me?

Lina skimmed the hall for a reassuring face. In the side rows sat proud parents. She took in their fashionable clothes, modern hairstyles and confident smiles, and knew her father, with his shabby suit and dark slicked-back hair, would have stood out amongst them like a pock-marked tomato. Lina kept her eyes moving until they rested on the face of Mary, smiling warmly, with an empty seat saved beside her for Lina’s return. When Mary saw Lina looking at her, she waved, and Lina smiled back, feeling comforted.

Lina sat through a Year Nine French poetry reading, a Year Eleven piano recital and a wobbly violin piece from a girl in Year Eight. The longer she sat there, the more nervous she felt. By the time it was her turn to take centre stage, all Lina could hear was the blood pounding in her ears. She stood up shakily and walked towards the podium, praying that she wouldn’t trip over on the way.

At the microphone, Lina squinted out into the audience and took a deep breath. ‘My story is called My Heart, My Home,’ she said, her voice coming out as a squeak. Then she cleared her throat and began to read. As Lina read, her nervousness began to drift away. She had practised reading this story so many times that it spun out of her almost like a piece of music. Every rhythm, pause and emphasis fell into place, until Lina had almost forgotten she was on stage. She could have been at home reading aloud to Enzo in bed.

As she was describing how their silly old goat had once escaped and gone clattering along the back alleyways of Carlton, the girls in the audience burst out laughing and Lina almost lost her place with shock. They like it! she thought, amazed, and added even more expression to her reading, exaggerating the voices of her grumpy old nonna and annoying older brothers. Soon the audience was in fits of laughter. When Lina reached the part where their old dog Tina had died, she lowered her voice in sadness and looked up to see a hall-full of girls brushing tears from their eyes. It was such an amazing feeling that Lina almost didn’t want her reading to end, but when it did she was met with rapturous applause that filled her with pride.

‘Thank you for that, Carmelina Gattuso, your adventure story was most entertaining,’ the Mother Superior said, taking over the microphone to calm down the hall of excitable girls. ‘I hope you will grace us with another one in the near future?’

Lina nodded and made her way shakily off the stage.

‘Well done!’ Mary whispered, squeezing Lina’s hand as she sat back down beside her. Another girl in the row behind tapped Lina on the shoulder and gave her the thumbs up.

Lina smiled gratefully and turned back to the stage to concentrate on breathing normally again. ‘Was it okay?’ she asked Mary, even though she thought she knew the answer.

‘Are you kidding? You were brilliant!’

Lina’s heart soared.

When assembly was over, the girls lined up in front of their teachers to be led back to class. As other girls passed Lina, they congratulated her, even girls from older grades. Mary stood proudly in line next to her. To their surprise, Sarah Buttersworth squeezed in behind them instead of loitering at the back like she usually did.

‘Nice story,’ she said, smiling stiffly. ‘Though I was surprised to hear you live in Carlton.’

Lina felt the big bubble of happiness in her chest begin to deflate. Why does Sarah Buttersworth have to spoil everything? she thought.

Sarah sniffed and turned to Mary. ‘Everyone knows Carlton is a slum. My father says it’s gone downhill since all those migrants arrived. Apparently, they’re all packed in together in tiny, filthy houses. Some of them don’t even have proper bathrooms and the toilets are outside. It all sounds a bit unsanitary if you ask me.’ She wrinkled up her pretty freckled nose.

Mary looked at Lina in surprise.

A burst of fury ripped through Lina like a hot wind. My house isn’t filthy! she thought. How dare she? Nonna and Ma keep it so clean. Even if it’s small, there’s nothing unsanitary about how we live.

‘You don’t know anything!’ she growled, pushing Sarah out of the line. She knew it wasn’t the best response she could come up with, but her head was fizzing too much to think of something better.

‘Girls!’ snapped Miss Spring, spinning round to rest her narrow eyes on them. ‘Is that really the behaviour of young ladies?’

Lina and Mary quickly stood to attention. Sarah slunk to the back of the line.

‘Thank you,’ said Miss Spring. ‘And I think you’ve caused excitement enough for one morning, Miss Gattuso. All right, girls, back to class.’ Miss Spring turned to lead the way.

There had been rain that morning and as the girls crossed the playground, two rows of shiny black shoes splashed in puddles that captured the silvery sky.

‘Is your house really like that, Lina?’ Mary whispered. ‘Like Sarah said?’

‘Of course not!’ said Lina, with a flutter of panic. ‘Sarah is just making things up.’

‘I thought so,’ Mary said.

‘I hate Sarah Buttersworth!’ Lina whispered angrily. ‘And I will never, ever, ever go to her birthday party!’

Mary nodded sympathetically. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t go either.’

‘But you have a new dress and everything,’ Lina said, touched that Mary was being so loyal. ‘And I know how much you love parties.’

Mary pressed her lips together and shook her head. ‘I’m not going without you, Lina. And that’s final.’

‘Oh, thank you,’ Lina said, her hand over her heart. And at that moment, she felt like the luckiest girl alive to have Mary Doveton as her very best friend.