Elsewhere Girls

by Emily Gale

  Just like she promised with the gross hand-spit-shake, Dewey doesn’t give me away.

  I walk into the kitchen and find Ma, Kath and Mary eating breakfast.

  ‘Where’s Dewey?’ I ask, cutting a wonky slab from the loaf of bread.

  ‘I’ve not seen her,’ says Ma.

  Mary shrugs, ‘Nor I. She’ll be out the back with her friends I shouldn’t wonder.’ The laneway is where a lot of the kids hang out.

  ‘How are you feeling about Brisbane, Fan?’ asks Kath.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Honestly, she’s still half-asleep,’ Mary laughs. ‘The State Championships? Kath’s got her eye on a new hat for the occasion.’

  Kath’s eyes sparkle. ‘A chaperone has to look her best, sister.’

  I shove bread into my mouth as an excuse not to have this conversation. After I’ve washed it down with lukewarm tea, I offer to sweep the backyard to make up for another mammoth sleep-in. The yard door has been left open and it sounds like a playground out in the laneway, so I put my head out. There’s a game of cricket in play, with kids of all sizes.

  I yell out to Mick, who’s fielding a long way down the lane. ‘Hey, Mick! Where’s Dewey?’

  He returns a dramatic shrug just as a ball cracks against the bat and comes soaring his way. It lands neatly in Mick’s hands and there’s a big cheer as kids stampede in his direction.

  I grab Frankie’s sleeve as he runs past. ‘Frank, where’s Dew?’

  ‘Haven’t seen her since last night.’

  No one’s seen her. This is so strange.

  She wouldn’t, would she?

  But she would, wouldn’t she…

  I have to tell more white lies so I can find Dewey without raising suspicion.

  While Kath and Mary are distracted by chores, I yell out, ‘Taking Dewey for a swim, see you at the carnival at noon!’ And I run outside. I can’t believe I say noon now.

  Back to the serious business of finding Dewey.

  I take the tram to Wylie’s Baths. It’s still pouring as I go down the steps to the pool. The ocean is churning, with a moody sky above it. Mr Wylie is walking swiftly alongside the pool as Dewey swims a messy breaststroke, dipping her head under and then coming back up for a gasp of air.

  I know why she’s here—she’s trying to follow Fanny into my time.

  When I reach Mr Wylie, holding onto my hat as the wind and rain lash my face, Mina appears in a long black swimming cloak.

  ‘She’s been swimming up and down for hours, Fan. What’s got into her?’

  ‘She’s just training.’

  ‘She’s exhausted,’ says Mr Wylie.

  I feel so guilty. Maybe Dewey was trying to reach her sister, or maybe she wanted an adventure of her own because of everything I told her. But hundreds of people swim at Wylie’s every week—they don’t all slip through time. I still don’t know why it happened to Fan and me. I don’t even know if we really have swapped. For all I know, my brain devoured hers. Just ate it up! It does sort of sound like something I would do—by accident, of course.

  Mr Wylie turns to me. ‘Fish her out, will you? I don’t like the look of those waves coming over the edge.’ And then he leaves.

  ‘Need a hand?’ says Mina.

  ‘Thanks but I’ve got this. Mina, about the stopwatch.’

  ‘You wanted another turn with it. How about a bet to make this afternoon’s carnival more interesting? If you beat me, it’s yours for a week.’

  ‘Breaststroke then.’ I spit into my palm and hold it out.

  Mina doesn’t hesitate. ‘Deal,’ we say at the same time. I like Mina; she’s fun. But I really hope she has a terrible race.

  When she leaves I hurry to the end of the pool to grab Dewey as she finishes another lap.

  ‘Dewey! I’m so sorry!’

  She stops swimming and stays low in the water, breathing hard. Her eyes look sore and sad. This is my fault—I told her about everything good in my time. I haven’t told her about refugees, climate change, extinct creatures, plastic in the ocean.

  ‘It didn’t work for me because you and Fanny are special and I’m not.’ She’s shivering and crying and my heart hurts for her.

  Then the rain stops. I look at the sky to see a rainbow arching above the ocean. ‘Dew, it’s a sign.’

  ‘Of what?’ she says grumpily, but she looks where I’m pointing.

  ‘I told you how much we know in the future about science and stuff, right? Well, if you see a rainbow above an ocean, the science says you’re going to meet an adventurous boy and see the world.’

  She bursts out laughing. ‘That’s a load of codswallop.’

  ‘You never know. Come on, time to go.’ I hold out my hand, and this time she takes it.

  It takes ages to get from Coogee to the carnival in Drummoyne. We just make it in time. It’s packed again—women and girls only. Like Wylie’s, it’s a pool cut out of solid rock.

  Now that Dewey knows I’m really Cat, I can whisper things that I had to keep to myself before.

  ‘Better find Mina,’ I say, ‘and make sure the deal is still on.’

  Dewey grabs my hand as I’m leaving. ‘Good luck.’ She smiles but I can tell that she’s still upset about this morning.

  Just before the race, Mina shows me that she’s brought the stopwatch with her. It’s exactly the same as Aunt Rachel’s. For a second I’m tempted to snatch it and run, but no more impulsive plans. I’m pumped to race, knowing that when I had Aunt Rachel’s stopwatch with me at Wylie’s—and the timer hand was winding back so fast it made me dizzy—Dewey was timing Fan with it. Same watch, same place.

  The gun fires and we’re off. I just go for it with the breaststroke technique Coach taught us. At first I feel awkward and I’m losing heart. But then I find some more fight. By halfway I feel longer and stronger with each stroke. And I’m not aware of the girls either side of me, which might mean…could it mean…have I…

  Yes! I’ve won!

  Mina doesn’t make me wait.

  ‘That was impressive,’ she says when we’re drying off.

  When I take it from her hand, mine is still shaking from the adrenaline. And it hits me that what I’m happy about is that I had a goal I believed in and that made me so fast. This is even better than a medal. I can’t wait to show Dewey.

  It’s nine o’clock and dark by the time we get home by tram. Dewey hugged me the whole way.

  From the street I can see that the light is on upstairs in the kitchen. I know that Ma will be in there, keeping the fire going. Frankie and Mick will be in bed. John will be in the parlour reading the paper. Con will be laughing with the men in the pub and Da will be lifting beer barrels or chucking out drunks.

  It makes me think of life back home. About Maisy and how things are between us. She trains harder than me, follows the rules. She wants to swim more than anything and I treat her like a pesky fly. I’ve enjoyed being the one on top. But now I’m not exactly sure why. I’m the one with the box of medals. Maisy’s the one with the passion.

  What does it mean if you’re not passionate about the thing you’re really good at?

  I’m lying in bed now with a strange feeling. Even after winning today, I don’t know if I’m meant to be a swimmer.

  Fan

  28

  Party

  Tonight, Mum ate three serves of my lamb stew. I couldn’t help but feel a little proud that she liked it so much. Maisy grumbled about me no longer being vegetarian but then tried the stew and devoured it too. Apparently, Cat likes something called tofu, which sounds like a sort of disease.

  Now Maisy’s washing up and Dad’s drying and I’m lying in Cat’s comfortable bed while Mum perches on the edge of Maisy’s. I am beginning to understand why Cat doesn’t like getting up in the morning. If I slept in a bed this soft, I probably wouldn’t either.

  ‘How’s everything going, Cat?’

  ‘I’m going to Rebecca’s party tonight.’

  ‘Rebecca from the relay tea
m? I didn’t know you were friends.’

  Ma and Da know most things about my life back home. They know about Mina and her father. They know that I live to swim, and that I secretly love Dewey the best. I wonder what Cat’s mother knows about her.

  ‘I don’t think we are,’ I say. ‘I’m not going to the party because of her. I’m going because it’s a party and apparently they can be fun.’

  She laughs like she understands. ‘Have you heard from the girls?’

  ‘Girls?’

  ‘Your friends in Orange?’

  ‘Just Tam,’ I tell her, still marvelling over the idea that someone’s face can appear inside a phone.

  ‘Are you feeling better about us moving here?’

  I’ve wondered about this from little things Maisy’s said about Cat not wanting to move. In my time my parents just make decisions. I can’t imagine anyone asking me what I think.

  ‘At least we didn’t move all the way from Ireland,’ I say thinking of Ma and Da moving across the world for a better life.

  ‘Why would we move you from Ireland?’

  ‘It was in a book I was reading.’ I avoid her eyes, worried that she’ll know I’m spinning yarns.

  But she nods. ‘Ah, was it a cookbook? Is that why we ate Irish stew for dinner? I did wonder.’

  Of course. Da always says Ma’s stew reminds him of home. ‘I’m trying the meals eaten by Irish people around the beginning of the twentieth century,’ I tell her. ‘For history class.’

  ‘Right. Does that mean I’ll find rabbit on my plate soon?’

  I nod. ‘If I can source one that seems fresh enough.’

  Mum starts laughing. ‘Maisy will explode if you feed her rabbit. Remember Bunny?’

  I nod confidently like when Ma asks me a question about the washing and I don’t remember her instructions.

  ‘I have to fly out on Monday so I’m not going to see you race next week,’ says Mum. ‘I’m sorry.’

  I’m used to my parents not seeing me race. It’s a rare day that Ma comes along, and Da isn’t allowed.

  ‘Do you have to fly for long?’

  ‘A short haul to Tokyo and back,’ she says. ‘I’d love to take you two there. Maybe we can think about going to the Olympics to watch the swimming,’ she says. ‘That’s if you haven’t already made the team in a few months,’ she says smiling.

  ‘Watch the Olympics?’ I ask. ‘Really?’

  ‘Why not? We can save up, and my job helps with the flights.’

  ‘We could see the Australian team? The women?’ My voice is too eager. I try to contain the bubbling feeling in my stomach, but the thought is thrilling. Perhaps I could stay here a little longer. There’s no way I’ll ever have an opportunity like this back home.

  ‘I’ll talk to Dad,’ she says. ‘Might spur you on a bit!’ ‘I don’t need spurring on. I’m going to swim at the Olympics one day if it’s the last thing I do.’

  Maybe I shouldn’t be in such a hurry to make the hand of the stopwatch unwind again. Would I be wrong to enjoy a little more of Cat’s time?

  I’m not sure what tonight’s party will be like. I’m imagining some dancing and some games. Cat’s wardrobe is full of tiny clothes that look more like they’re made for a doll than a person, but I try them on because I can hardly wear my school uniform to a party.

  The first top exposes more of my middle than my bathing suit does. I know it’s not actually my belly but even Cat’s belly deserves more material than this little floral thing that I currently have on. I try a longer top that reaches my knees and, with long pants on, there is very little skin to be seen.

  I’m beginning to understand the appeal of not having to run a hairbrush through my long locks every night. This hair needs nothing but the odd wash with sweet berry shampoo.

  I haven’t experimented with any make-up as Cat and I’m not sure if she wears any. Back home I would have had Kathleen help with some colour on my cheeks perhaps, but here I don’t know what to do.

  ‘You’re wearing that?’ Maisy barges in with a face.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘To a party?’

  I nod, looking back at myself in the mirror, and letting doubts creep into my head.

  ‘A nightie?’

  I look down at the pale blue fabric and realise it’s not a top at all, but something you wear to bed.

  ‘And those pants are Mum’s old ones. No,’ says Maisy, pulling at the nightie and checking me out. ‘Or is it fancy dress?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Rebecca lives on the hill, Cat. You need to look good.’

  ‘So help me, will you?’

  Maisy does that thing she does with her eyebrow when she can’t quite believe how incompetent I am, and then gets busy in the wardrobe. Clothes are thrown wildly in my direction.

  A bright pink blouse hits me in the head, and I giggle. ‘I can’t wear everything!’

  ‘I’m looking for that black lacy top. You know, the one Mum bought you for the Grade Six formal?…Here it is.’ Maisy holds it out to me and I realise that you can see straight through it!

  ‘I can’t wear that! In public!’

  Maisy starts to laugh. ‘It’s better than a nightie!’

  ‘But…you can…see…’ I hold it up in front of my face and look through at her.

  ‘That’s the whole point! It looks nice on you. Just wear a crop top under it if you don’t want to just wear a bra.’

  What is a crop top? It’s all so confusing.

  ‘Here!’ Maisy thrusts a tiny singlet at me.

  Maisy turns around so that I can get changed. I strip off, not caring that she’s in the room. I get undressed in front of my sisters all the time. It’s funny that people in the future are so keen to show skin to strangers but not to people in their family.

  I pull the singlet on and then slip the lace top over and peep around Maisy so I can see myself in the mirror.

  ‘Looks good,’ says Maisy, fiddling with my top so that it hangs better. ‘Not those pants though.’

  I let her return to the wardrobe while I stare at myself in the mirror. I know I’m not me to look at, but I’m me on the inside and there is something so freeing about wearing clothes that let you move without corsets and layers pinching skin and covering every tiny patch of your body.

  I wouldn’t even wear this to bed in 1908, and now I’m about to wear this to a party. I grin at my reflection and it grins back.

  Mum is driving me to the party because Rebecca lives in Bellevue Hill and Mum says she can’t resist having a look. She says millionaires live there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one but I suppose millionaires just look like normal people.

  ‘Nervous, Cat?’

  ‘It’s the same feeling I get before a race,’ I tell her.

  Mum smiles and grabs my hand. She gives it a squeeze. ‘I never think of you as getting nervous. You always seem fearless.’

  Maybe that’s what Cat and I have in common. Both swimmers, both fearless. This churning feeling is excitement. It is the same feeling I get before a race, but it’s not nerves.

  ‘It won’t be that different to Tam’s party. Just a bigger house,’ says Mum, as she pulls up outside a very large, very grand white house built into the side of a hill. ‘A much bigger house!’ she says, laughing.

  I whistle and Mum laughs. ‘I’ve never been in a house like this,’ I tell her, and then I panic because I don’t know if that’s true for Cat.

  ‘Do you want me to come in with you?’

  I shake my head, knowing that Cat would definitely not want that. I have no idea about how she would react to some things, but for others it’s very clear.

  ‘Thanks for driving me.’

  ‘Call me when you want me to come and pick you up.’

  ‘My phone is at Lucy’s,’ I lie. It’s even harder lying to Mum than to Maisy.

  ‘Then I’ll be back at ten. Can you survive that long?’

  I grin at her. ‘I think so!’

&nbs
p; The sounds of the party float down to me as I get out of the car and wave Mum off. I straighten my top and start walking up the very steep hill. I think of Dewey and how impressed she’d be by this house.

  The garden smells sweet and clean and I suck as much of the air in as I can. My Sydney smells like horse poo and dirt.

  Some boys rush up behind me laughing and bundle past before I can move for them. One bangs into my arm.

  ‘Oi!’ I yell after him, pretending that it’s my brother Con and some of his friends. I miss their roughness and their noise.

  I reach the top. From here I can see the harbour and I search for Lavender Bay Baths, hoping it’s out there somewhere and hasn’t been pulled down like so many things from my time.

  ‘You came, Cat!’

  ‘Well, you invited me.’

  Rebecca is standing at the door wearing a very small white dress. It’s as tight as a bathing suit and as short as a top. Her hair is even longer than my real hair and it’s out and wild.

  The house is even grander than I’d imagined. Chandeliers of glass beads hang from the ceiling. I stare at the walls of paintings and at the staircase that sweeps upwards. It’s covered by laughing, chatting people I vaguely recognise from Cat’s school.

  ‘It’s so grand,’ I tell her.

  Rebecca laughs and the sound is cold. ‘Grand? What are you, a hundred? Drinks are in there. Toilet’s through there. Enjoy,’ she says, turning dramatically on her toe and heading into the crowd.

  There must be over a hundred people here. That’s a lot of friends. In 1908 I have rivals who are sort of my friends, but only because we swim together.

  I decide to go looking for cake. But the first door I open leads to a room of people dancing and flashing coloured lights. Nobody seems to care about how their bodies are moving and I’m so intrigued that I step into the room to watch. There are boys jumping up and down in a circle in the oddest way I’ve ever seen. I spy a small group of girls from the swim team. They are all dancing different sorts of moves at the same time and there is obviously no routine to learn so, without thinking too much, I join them.