The Sequin Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

around, ordering Rosina about. Claire wrote down her parents’ names, address and phone number on a scrap of paper and gave it to Rosina.
    In a few minutes Claire was tucked up under some blankets in a smaller green caravan, which appeared to be Rosina’s. She drank some bitter herbal tea that Malia brought her, then curled up and was soon in a deep sleep.
    Sometime later, a strange noise woke her. She stretched. Memories of the peculiar happenings filtered into her consciousness. Such a strange dream , she thought to herself. Her eyelids flickered open. The noise came again. It sounded like an elephant trumpeting.

4
Campfire Dinner

    Claire’s eyes flew open and she stared around in dismay. She was not at home in her beautiful bedroom – the bed piled with her favourite old teddies, funny photos of her friends stuck on the noticeboard, the dormer window overlooking the treetops. She was lying down in a cramped bunk in a tiny caravan. Claire felt overcome with despair and loneliness. She rolled over.
    â€˜Oh good, you’re awake,’ came Rosina’s voice from the doorway. Lula was still sitting on her shoulder with her tail wrapped around Rosina’s neck. ‘I’ve brought you a bowl of broth and a cup of real tea. How are you feeling?’
    Claire struggled to sit up and smiled wanly. Rosina handed her the mug of tea. She placed the bowl of broth on a little table.
    â€˜A little better,’ she lied. ‘Thanks for the tea. Have I been asleep long?’
    Claire sipped the tea. It was hot and sweet, and seemed to have been made with condensed milk.
    â€˜A couple of hours.’ Rosina sat down on a bench that ran across the opposite wall. Lula slipped off her shoulder and started to play with an ostrich feather headdress lying on the table. She held the flamboyant white-and-pink feathers up to her own head, bobbing and nodding so the feathers danced.
    Claire smiled at the sight. The bright feathers were way too long for the little monkey.
    â€˜No, Lula,’ said Rosina sternly. ‘How many times have I told you not to play with my costumes?’
    The monkey obediently put the feathers down and started playing with a hairbrush on the table, using it upside down to brush her own short fur. She primped and preened in front of a small, spotted mirror.
    Claire took in her surroundings. The inside of the caravan was shabby, with belongings piled everywhere. A rack of costumes hung at one end. Claire could see a sparkly pink-and-silver dress, a light-blue tutu and a purple velvet cloak. A pair of pink satin ballet slippers hung from the end.
    Seeing the ballet slippers gave her a sharp pang. They made her think of home and her ballet lessons at the dance academy. She remembered how proud she had been when Madame Petrova had said she was finally strong enough to start learning to dance en pointe , after months of training and exercises. Going with her mum to be fitted for her first pointe shoes had been a special occasion, celebrated with a chocolate milkshake at their favourite café. Claire forced herself to look away.
    Rosina took up a pair of pale-pink tights that were lying on the table and began to darn a large hole in the toe.
    â€˜Can you remember anything now?’ asked Rosina. ‘Do you know where you live?’
    Claire took a deep breath. What will I say? Shall I sound completely mad if I say I come from another century? Don’t panic. Don’t panic.
    â€˜I live in Sydney, in Northbridge,’ said Claire. ‘I’m not quite sure how I came here. My grandmother is very ill and in hospital. And my mother . . .’ Claire paused. She wished more than anything her mother would walk through the door and sort everything out. ‘Well, anyway, one moment I was on a bus going home and then I was here . . .’
    Claire began to cry again. Rosina handed her a handkerchief. She blew her nose gratefully. Lula climbed over and sat next to