BY Saturday afternoon, Lina and Mary agreed that their magazine was almost finished. They had met in the library every lunchtime that week to work on it and now they just needed to type up the stories. Lina had managed to convince her parents to allow her to go to Mary’s house again under the belief that they were doing an important project for school. The girls had worked hard all day in the Dovetons’ dining room, Mary searching for pictures and Lina picking away at the typewriter keys, pausing only for a lunch of curried egg sandwiches in white bread, cut into dainty triangles by Mary’s mother. To Lina, everything Mrs Doveton did was stylish, even her egg sandwiches.

‘It’s looking great!’ Lina said. ‘Now it’s definitely ready to show everyone on Monday.’

‘I know!’ Mary said excitedly. ‘They’re going to just love it!’

Lina leaned back in her chair, gazing at their magazine with pride. Along with the articles she had written in class about the school and their home life, and of course the Olympics, there were some of her own stories in there, too. Stories full of adventure and mystery and intrigue: often true stories, but with a generous sprinkling of imagination thrown in. These were the ones she was most excited to have the girls read. Would they like them as much as the one she had read out in assembly?

‘How are you getting on there, darlings?’ Mrs Doveton cooed, waltzing into the dining room in a cherry-red dress and lipstick to match.

‘Wow, that’s a beautiful dress, Mrs Doveton,’ Lina said, feeling quite starstruck. ‘Are you going to a party?’

‘We all are,’ Mrs Doveton said, smiling. ‘You’ll need to get ready now, honey,’ she said to Mary. ‘I’ve put your new dress on your bed and picked out a couple of pairs of shoes for you to choose from. Aren’t you coming, too, Lina?’

‘Where?’ Lina said, but even as the word came out, she realised what Mrs Doveton meant. It was Saturday night. And they were going to a party. There was only one party Lina knew of that was being held that night and as the realisation hit her, Lina turned to Mary and her mouth fell open. ‘But . . . you said you weren’t going.’

Mary shifted uncomfortably and looked to her mother for help.

Mrs Doveton sighed. ‘I’ll let you girls discuss this,’ she said, giving Mary a disapproving look. ‘We’ll be leaving in an hour, Mary.’ Then she walked out of the room.

Lina turned to Mary, her heart squeezing tight, hoping desperately that her guess had been wrong.

‘What?’ said Mary, reddening. ‘Sarah’s mum and my mum are best friends. My parents are going. I can’t really not go to the party when my parents are going, can I?’

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ Lina said, tears springing into her eyes.

Mary looked away, embarrassed. ‘I guess I forgot. I don’t know. Why don’t you just come, Lina? Everyone’s going. It’s going to be an amazing party – you should see their house, it’s huge. And they’re hiring a jukebox! Just call your parents and say you’re coming to the party with me and you can wear one of my dresses. Come on, we’ll have fun. You don’t even have to talk to Sarah if you don’t want to.’

Lina felt a hot fizz fill her head. ‘But you promised me you wouldn’t go,’ she said. ‘I thought . . . I thought you were my best friend . . .’

‘I am your best friend, Lina,’ Mary insisted, though she was beginning to sound annoyed. ‘Look, you don’t need to make such a big deal out of it. Sarah’s not that bad, once you get to know her.’

Lina shook her head, unable to say anything. When she looked up, she saw Mr Doveton standing in the doorway. ‘How about I give you a lift home, Lina?’ he said kindly. ‘Do you want to come back tomorrow to finish off the magazine?’

Lina shook her head. ‘No, we have church on Sundays,’ she said quietly. ‘And then lunch with the family. It’s okay. Just bring the magazine to school on Monday, Mary. It’s almost finished, anyway.’

Mr Doveton dropped Lina at the big house on Rathdowne Street and excused himself as he had to get back for the party. Lina walked home, along the main road, past the shops closed for the night, and past the little houses in her alleyway huddled together in the cold. Even though it was not long past six, the clouds hung heavy and low, blacking out the stars. Lina buried her hands deep into the pockets of her navy woollen coat. The coat that had been bought by her father at the beginning of the year, along with the navy tunic and smart white shirt of her school uniform, for a price that had made Lina gasp.

‘Can’t I just wear my regular clothes, like I did at primary school?’ she had asked. But her father had explained that the uniform was so that all the girls at school could feel the same, so there would be no distinction between those students with lots of money and those with less. It’s not true though, Lina thought bitterly. The uniform doesn’t make any difference. Everybody knows who has money and who doesn’t. And, not for the first time, she wondered why Mary had chosen her as a friend when she could have been friends with anyone at all.

Lina’s house was busy when she got home, so she was able to slip in without anyone making a fuss. Her parents’ friends, Mr and Mrs Cantileri, were over with their twin boys, who had already started building an enormous tower out of empty olive oil tins on the kitchen floor with Enzo. Nonna was chopping up vegetables, and Mrs Cantileri and Lina’s mother were both in floral aprons arranging antipasto on plates. All the men, including Lina’s two older brothers, were sitting out the back around the wood-fired stove, drinking homemade spirits and spitting olive pips into the garden. Normally, Lina loved it when her parents had people over. Her mother was happiest with a houseful of guests and a tableful of food, but tonight Lina just wanted to be on her own.

‘Lina!’ her father called. ‘Come and say hello to Mr Cantileri.’

Lina walked out the back and leaned against her father. ‘Hello, Mr Cantileri,’ she said politely.

‘How you doing at that posh school of yours?’ Mr Cantileri joked.

‘She’s doing brilliantly,’ her father said, squeezing Lina against him. ‘She’s going to be a doctor or a lawyer, this one!’

‘Dad!’ said Lina, embarrassed. How could she ever tell him about her dreams when he already so obviously had her future mapped out for her?

‘Pfft! What’s a girl want to be a doctor for?’ Mr Cantileri sniffed. ‘You’re too pretty for that! You marry a nice Italian boy and you run a shop like me and Mrs Cantileri. You can make good money in business these days. Plenty of Italians here looking for good coffee. Not that horrible black stuff that those Aussies drink. I tell your father, buy an espresso machine from Italy. He will become rich!’

Lina left her father and Mr Cantileri arguing over coffee machines and wandered back into the house to help her mother prepare the dinner.

Later that night, when the Cantileris had gone home and all the dishes had been washed up and put away, Lina lay in bed and imagined Mary and all her other classmates at Sarah Buttersworth’s party. I wonder what they’re doing right now? she thought. Is Mary dancing to Elvis Presley on the jukebox? Are there boys at the party? Maybe I should have gone after all. But then maybe Mary didn’t even want me there? This thought was too painful to consider. No, she told herself. She did want me to come. She said so. She was even ready to lend me one of her beautiful dresses!

Lina’s thoughts turned to her mother and father: how hard they must have worked just to buy her that winter coat when Mary had more clothes than she knew what to do with. How could life be so hard for some people and so easy for others? she wondered. Why was life so unfair?

Outside her window, the clouds had lifted and Lina glimpsed a spattering of stars across the night sky, like pinpricks in a heavy velvet curtain draped between Lina and the bright lights of another world.