And then before Henry knew it, they were nearly there.
‘Woo-hooo!’ cried Dad. ‘Wakey-wakey, sleepyheads!’
Lulu woke with a start, her cheek damp with dribble. ‘How much longer?’
‘Five and a half hours,’ said Dad, with a laugh.
Mum turned her head. ‘Five minutes.’
Lulu pressed the button for her window. A breeze rushed in and her hair whirled about. Bellbirds pinged in the forest above them. ‘I can smell sea!’ she called, wiping her cheek.
Patch pushed the button for his window too. He leant his head out, his fringe lifting up like a salute. He sniffed. ‘I think you’re right,’ he said to Lulu.
And then, after they chugged up one last hill and around a bend, they could see it. Yelonga Inlet stretched out before them. Henry let out a slow, wonderstruck breath. There were more shades of blue than he could possibly count. Patches of turquoise. Splashes of kingfisher blue. Pools of sapphire, indigo and even navy.
‘Here comes the bridge,’ said Dad. Their car shuddered across, the trailer jolting behind them.
‘Is it a lifting bridge, Daddy?’ Lulu slid forward and gazed up.
‘It sure is,’ said Dad, glancing out at the water. ‘But the bridge only goes up when there’s a big boat wanting to get in or out. Ah, what a shame, low tide! I was hoping the water would be rushing in to greet us.’ He laughed. ‘I thought I’d get a kitesurf out front before dark.’ He turned to wink at Henry. ‘But maybe I’ll have to settle for a bike ride instead?’
A shivery jolt ran up Henry’s spine.
‘Ha-ha,’ said Mum. ‘Fat chance! We’re going to be too busy for that.’
Thank heavens! Henry rested his head and breathed out slowly.
‘Neigh!’ Lulu lifted Violet, Peony and Marigold to the window. ‘Neeeeigggh!’ Her hair whipped about, the tips flicking into Henry’s eyes.
They drove slowly up the main street, past the baker, the butcher, the chemist and supermarket, past the gelato shop with its red and white stripey awning and its long, long line of people out the front. They turned left, bouncing over a speed hump, past a sign with flashy bright letters saying Yelonga Inlet Haven.
‘Welcome,’ said Henry, reading the small line beneath the big letters on the sign. ‘You’ll Always Belonga in Yelonga!’
‘Aw, dog-goggles,’ said Patch. ‘Don’t tell me some crazy dad-joke maniac runs this caravan park?’
‘Who knows,’ said Dad, pulling up outside a squat red-roofed building. ‘But I’ll let you in on a secret, Patch. Crazy dad-joke maniacs are everywhere. They’re irrepressible, like cockroaches. You will never be rid of them.’
Patch groaned. ‘Spare me, puppetino!’
‘Wait here,’ said Mum, opening her car door, ‘while we go and book in at reception. We’ll only be a second.’
Henry gazed at a whiteboard hanging up near the entrance. It was advertising a fishing charter trip out to the reef, the times for low and high tide, and the temperature of the water.
Lulu unclicked her seatbelt, scooped up her ponies and clambered across Henry to sit in Patch’s lap. ‘Watch what you’re doing, dingbat,’ grunted Henry, flapping his hand at her legs.
Lulu poked out her tongue. ‘Mind yourself,’ she said. ‘Look, Patch, there’s a pool and a giant bouncing pillow. Oooh, I can see a bike path through those trees, past the tents. It’s over there!’
The bike path. Henry slid down in his seat.
‘Sheez, those ponies,’ said Patch, pushing them away. One flew up and bounced off the sill and out the car window.
‘Hey! Now look what you’ve done,’ said Lulu. ‘She’s one of my FAVOURITES!’ She dropped the other ponies and lunged at Patch’s face.
‘Yoweeee.’ Patch grabbed Lulu by the wrists. ‘You need to cut those nails, tiger!’
‘I’m not a tiger! Let me go,’ said Lulu, wriggling and kicking. ‘I’m going to get you! I’m going to pluck out your eyes and give them to crows!’
‘Wow. Watch out!’ Patch darted forward and seized a handful of ponies and tossed them up. ‘Reach for the sky!’
‘HEY!’ cried Lulu.
A purple pony bounced off Henry’s head and into the front of the car. ‘Ow!’ he groaned, rubbing his forehead.
‘Hello, there.’
A girl about Henry’s age was peering in through the car window. Her brown hair was a squabble of tangles and her nose was freckled and pink-tipped from too much sun. ‘Is this yours?’ She held up a yellow pony by the tail.
‘Not mine!’ said Patch, holding up his hands.
‘Yes,’ said Lulu, reaching out to take the pony. ‘That’s Marigold! You saved her! THANK YOU!’
The girl rested her elbow on the windowsill. ‘Whoah! That’s a lot of ponies.’
‘Yes,’ said Patch. ‘Too many.’
‘My brother is ANNOYING!’
‘Which brother?’ said the girl.
Lulu pointed at Patch. ‘The big one.’
‘Ah,’ said the girl. ‘What about the other one?’
‘They’re both naughty,’ said Lulu, shaking her head. ‘I’m the only good one.’
‘Pig’s bum,’ said Patch, with a snort.
‘See?’ said Lulu. ‘He even says RUDE words!’
The girl laughed. ‘That is terrible!’
‘I’m Lulu. And this is Patch.’ Lulu scrunched up her nose at her older brother. She pointed and rolled her eyes. ‘And this is Henry.’
Henry tried not to stare at the girl. But her eyes were tawny bright and gold and they reminded him of the sheeny wings of a Christmas beetle.
‘Who owns the bike?’ asked the girl.
Lulu peered through the window. ‘Which bike?’
‘The silver one.’ The girl turned her head. ‘The one on the back of the trailer.’
‘Ah – well, that belongs to Henry.’ Lulu sniffed the mane of her pony.
‘Very cool.’ The girl grinned at Henry. ‘Maybe we could go for a ride sometime?’
‘Oooooooh, Henry!’ said Patch, lifting an eyebrow.
The girl wrinkled her nose. ‘You’re right, Lulu! Your older brother is rude.’ She smiled at Patch. A musk pink crept across his cheeks.
‘I know,’ said Lulu. ‘He’s preposterous!’
The girl laughed and glanced over at Henry. ‘See you round like a rissole,’ she said. She pushed off from the car and Henry realised then that she had been balancing on a crimson bike the whole time.
‘What sort of bike is that?’
‘A dragster,’ said the girl.
Lulu shoved her head out the window. ‘And how long are you staying?’ she cried.
‘Probably forever,’ called the girl, waving a hand as she swerved around a speed bump and the red and white boom gate.
‘Forever?’ Lulu asked Henry. ‘I thought this place was just for holidays.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Henry, leaning forward between the seats. He watched the girl ride away between the tents, down towards the water and the bike path.
Their dad opened the car door and hopped in. ‘Sorry about that. It took forever! They couldn’t find the darn booking, for heaven’s sake.’
‘Thank you for waiting so patiently,’ said Mum.
‘Oi!’ Dad sat bolt upright and slid a flattened purple pony out from beneath his bottom. ‘Who put this here?’
‘Patch!’ said Lulu, with a scowl.
‘You’ve got to stop playing with ponies, mate. How many times do I have to tell you?’ Their dad chuckled at his own joke and started the car. He drove up to the boom gate and punched in a code. The gate joggled upwards and they drove past a small blackboard advertising a Sunday night Lions barbecue.
The estuary glittered in the distance. Henry wondered about the girl on the crimson dragster. The moment she’d popped her freckled face into the car, it was like the sun had burst through the clouds. Even thinking about her, he found himself wanting to sit up straighter and taller. Was it possible to meet someone for the very first time and feel like you had always known them? Or was that just plain, silly preposterousness?