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old-fashioned term, courting; it brought to mind chaste walks in the park, stolen kisses and scented letters. While the reality would have been much more intense than that – Alma’s existence was proof of it. Pursing her lips, Alma realised just how little she knew about her mother and her life before Alma was born.
    ‘So… is it an heirloom? Do you know where it came from, how he got it?’
    ‘I think, maybe, his father gave it to him. All I know is that it’s very old,’ Eleanor dissembled, obviously hoping to close the matter. But there was no way Alma was letting it go, not after the day she’d had.
    ‘But, surely you know something more – didn’t he tell you anything about it?’
    Eleanor closed her eyes for a moment, then she opened them, letting out a sigh. ‘Your father gave the bracelet to me not long after we met,’ she said quietly. ‘He said it would protect me and, well, I humoured him because it was just so romantic, you know, that he wanted me to be safe.’ Her voice grew wistful, her blue eyes soft as her thoughts moved back into the past. ‘When I was pregnant with you he made me promise I would pass it on to you when you were old enough. It meant a great deal to him; he loved you so much, even though you weren’t born yet. So in giving it to you I am honouring his memory, which is why I want you to wear it. You are very like him, you know.’ At this Eleanor stopped, tears obvious in her eyes and Alma, her irritation gone, went to hug her mother.
    ‘I wish I knew him,’ she said.
    ‘So do I, Alma, more than you can imagine,’ said her mother, her voice unsteady. She pulled back to look at Alma and smoothed her long red hair. ‘You’re so like him.’ Her voice choked up and Alma hugged her again, shocked. She’d figured she must look like her dad, but as she’d never seen even a picture of him, it was hard to know. This was already more than her mother had ever told her about him. She let go of Eleanor and looked at her.
    ‘I’m sorry if I worried you, Mum – really I am.’
    Smiling through her tears, Eleanor shook her daughter a little. ‘I know you are – you just have to ring me, OK? I just need to know you’re all right.’

Vanishing Act
    ‘Hey, what’s up? Did you hear what I just said?’  Sara, sitting on Alma’s bed, broke off with a frown and poked Alma in the side. Then she grabbed the controller and turned down the music playing in the background, waiting for Alma to answer her.
    ‘Sorry,’ said Alma, who was lying back, gazing at the ceiling. ‘I am listening, it’s just, last night at the park…’ She stopped, tilting her head forward to look at Sara.
    ‘What? Did… something happen to you? You’ve not really been yourself since I’ve been here.’ Sara made a face. ‘And I’ve been going on about Josh this whole time.’
    ‘Oh no, I mean, it’s totally exciting about him,’ Alma cut in. She sat up and pushed her hair out of her eyes. ‘It’s… well… I had another run in with Ellery last night.’
    ‘What!?’ shrieked Sara, pushing Alma in the shoulder. ‘And you didn’t even tell me?’
    ‘Well,’ said Alma, rubbing her shoulder, ‘you haven’t really given me the chance to - but,’ she continued hastily, seeing Sara’s hurt look, ‘I was going to tell you, I promise. I just wanted to hear your news first.’
    ‘Forget about my news!’ cried Sara. ‘Tell me what happened. Oh, I can’t believe you ran into her again after yesterday. Did she have another go at you?’ Sara examined Alma as though she expected to see bruises forming before her very eyes. Alma laughed, gently pushing Sara back. Then her face grew serious.
    ‘She did, and I don’t think school’s going to be much fun for the next little while, at least while she’s around.’
    ‘That bitch!’ said Sara. ‘Just wait till I see her-’
    ‘There’s nothing you can do, Sara,’ Alma interrupted. ‘She hates me.’
    ‘So, what happened?’ asked Sara, her