“What ya doing?”
The words caught Jana by surprise. She wheeled round. It was the Aboriginal boy, coming down from the guesthouse. Jana had seen him before, running errands for the landlady. Jana’s mother didn’t approve of her talking to the Aboriginal children. Still, Mum wasn’t there now.
“I’m waiting,” she said grandly.
“Waiting for what?” the boy asked, scratching his thick mop of hair.
“Waiting for Mum to come back. Waiting to go home to Sydney. Waiting for the world to end. Waiting-”
“Alright. I getcha Missy. Where’s your Ma?”
“At the Observatory, she’s important.” Jana was talking in her queenly voice.
Mum said she had a gift for it.