RUBY felt trapped. The pale green walls of the classroom seemed to be closing in on her, and the warm, stuffy air was making her feel quite sleepy. If only she could run away! She glanced sideways at Brenda Walker, in the desk across the aisle. Brenda was sitting up very straight and looking interested. How could she? There wasn’t a single thing about maths that was interesting. And the very worst thing about it was Miss Fraser’s droning voice.

Ruby tried to imagine what it would be like to be Miss Fraser. Everything about her was grey. Her grey hair was pulled back in a tight little bun, and she wore a grey skirt and a long grey cardigan and horrid thick grey stockings.

Marjorie Mack said that Miss Fraser had once had a sweetheart: he was a soldier, and he’d died in the last year of the Great War. But Ruby didn’t believe that any body could ever have loved Miss Fraser.

‘Open your books, girls. We have time for some quick mental arithmetic before the bell goes. Page twenty, problem one.’

Ruby groaned and turned to page twenty. Sixteen currant buns at a penny-ha’ penny each . . . Picking up her pencil, she began to draw a plate of buns in the margin of the page.

‘Perhaps you can give us the answer, Ruby Quinlan? Yes, Ruby, I’m speaking to you. Stand up, please. What is the answer to problem one?’

Ruby stood up. Oh my hat, she thought. I should’ve known she’d ask me.

‘I don’t know, Miss Fraser,’ she said at last.

‘Well, work it out. Sixteen times one-and-a-half pennies.’

Ruby stared at the ceiling. The answer didn’t appear there. She stared at the floor. Not there either. She stared at Brenda Walker. Brenda was scribbling something on a piece of paper, partly covering it with her hand.

Ruby tried to read what Brenda had written. ‘Um, one pound and four shillings?’

Miss Fraser’s lips set in a thin line.‘Good heavens, child, use your head. Would you pay one pound and four shillings for sixteen currant buns? I hope you don’t do the shopping for your family.’

‘Of course I don’t, Miss Fraser. Our cook does it.’

Miss Fraser sighed. ‘Sit down,Ruby.Brenda,perhaps you can help us.’

Brenda stood up, smoothing down her school uniform. ‘Two shillings, Miss Fraser.’

‘Thank you, Brenda,’ Miss Fraser said, with an approving smile. ‘Now for something a little more difficult. Hilary Mitchell? Your answer to the next question, please. If it takes three men five days to dig a ditch . . .’

Ruby saw the startled look on Hilary’s face. As usual, Hilary had been gazing dreamily out of the window. I’ll bet she was thinking about her new little sister, Ruby thought. Baby Cecily was just three weeks old, and Hilary had promised that Ruby could meet her soon.

Sometimes Ruby wondered what it would be like to have a sister or a brother, but most of the time she enjoyed being an only child. It meant she had Dad and Mother all to herself. Tomorrow was her birthday, and she knew they would have chosen something special for her present. Last year they’d given her a shiny blue bicycle with a wicker basket.

At last the bell in the quadrangle rang for the end of the day’s lessons. Ruby jumped up and grabbed for her homework books, knocking her wooden pencil-case to the floor with a crash. As she bent forward to pick it up, the end of her plait dipped into her inkwell.

‘Gently, Ruby, gently!’ called Miss Fraser. ‘There is no fire, and our building is not about to collapse. This is a college for ladies. Let us have a little decorum, please.’

‘Sorry, Miss Fraser.’ Ruby stood still for the tiniest moment, tiptoed to the door, and ran.

Ruby both loved and hated school. She couldn’t see the sense of school work. When she was about twenty she’d probably get married and go shopping and wear nice clothes, like her mother did. Why did she need to know about isosceles triangles, or the primary products of Brazil? Things like that bored her silly. But as for the school itself – the old stone buildings, the cosy library tucked away at the back of the boarding house, the Moreton Bay fig trees lining the long driveway – she loved it all, and she loved the fun she had with her friends.

Now, as she set off down the shady drive, past the smooth green expanse of the school oval, she felt free and happy. It was Friday afternoon, and her birthday party was tomorrow! Then she heard running feet behind her, and turned to see Brenda Walker.

Brenda caught up with her, panting. Her owlish spectacles glinted. ‘Can I walk with you?’

‘If you want to.’

‘You’ve got ink on your shirt.’

‘I know.’

Ruby didn’t exactly dislike Brenda, but she didn’t like her very much either. She’d known her for most of her life because their fathers were in business together. Ruby’s father built houses, and Brenda’s father was his accountant.‘Donald Walker is a genius with money,’Dadhad once told Ruby. ‘I couldn’t possibly run the business without him.’

Ruby knew that her father was hopeless with numbers, just as she was, and he was happy to leave the money side of things to Uncle Donald. Dad was only interested in houses. Ten years ago he’d built their house – a big California bungalow not far from Ruby’s school. It had a fishpond with a fountain in the front garden, and coloured leadlight in the windows, and an indoor lavatory. It was Ruby’s most favourite place in all the world.

Brenda walked faster to keep up with Ruby. ‘You’re not wearing your hat,’ she said. ‘Or your gloves. You’ll get into trouble if anyone sees.’

‘Who cares?’ said Ruby. ‘My hat makes my head feel hot. And I’ve lost one of my gloves. I think Baxter might’ve eaten it.’

‘Baxter is so naughty.’ Brenda ran a few steps. ‘I wish I had a fox terrier too, or maybe a cocker spaniel. But Mama thinks dogs are too expensive to keep, with all the meat they eat.’

‘Baxter doesn’t eat meat. He just eats my clothes. And my books. And my shoes.’

‘Really?’ Brenda pushed back her spectacles, which were beginning to slide down her nose.

‘I’m only joking.’

‘Oh.’ Brenda looked relieved. ‘What are you wearing to your fancy-dress party tomorrow?’ she asked, after a pause.

‘It’s a secret,’ Ruby said. ‘You’ll have to wait and see.’

‘I’m going as a rose. I really wanted to be a mermaid, though. I saw some green spangly material at Myer’s that would’ve made a good tail, but Mama thought it was too expensive.’

I’d never choose to be a mermaid, thought Ruby. If you had a fish tail you couldn’t use your legs, could you? You’d just have to sit around. Even now she felt impatient to move faster. She wanted to skip and jump and run.

‘Brenda, I have to go,’ she said. ‘I’ve got heaps to do. See you at my place at two o’clock tomorrow!’ She made a dash for the gate, only to be stopped by a school prefect.

‘Where is your hat, Ruby Quinlan? And why aren’t you wearing gloves? You know you are not to leave the school grounds improperly clothed.’

Ruby pulled her battered straw hat from her satchel. ‘Here’s my hat. I don’t know where my gloves are.’

‘Final warning, Ruby Q. If I catch you without gloves again, you’ll be explaining yourself to Miss Macdonald.’

The thought of explaining herself to her tall, elegant headmistress didn’t appeal to Ruby one bit. ‘Sorry. I’ll look for them, I promise.’ She scowled as Brenda, neatly hatted and gloved, walked past her with a smirk.

‘Told you,’ Brenda said.

‘Oh, Brenda,’ Ruby burst out. ‘Don’t you ever get sick of being right all the time?’