A Powerpoint presentation showed highlights of Dublin: famous streets, green parks and crowds of people standing outside the Abbey Theatre. Maeve found herself wondering if one of those faces in the crowd could be her father. Maybe he was captured for a split second in one of those frames. She leant forward, frowning. He probably wasn't there. He was probably still somewhere in Nepal, completely out of reach.

Maeve tried not to stare at Will as she sat in the back of his beaten-up old station wagon. In profile, he looked a lot like his father. But there were things about him that were nothing like McCabe. Maeve couldn't stop thinking about Bianca's suggestion that Will was a long-lost son. If it was true, then how had he and his father found each other? She wriggled uncomfortably in her seat, trying to think of a way to ask him. Will's girlfriend, Lauren, politely tried to include Maeve in their conversation but there was only one thing Maeve wanted to talk about. Finally she blurted out a question that she hoped would lead somewhere.

'Is your mum going to come to the show when it opens?' she asked.

Lauren fell silent and Maeve knew she'd said something wrong. Will glanced over his shoulder quickly and then turned back to concentrate on the road. 'My mum died of cancer when I was sixteen, but my brothers will probably turn up. And of course, Dad will be there. I don't think he's missed a single show I've ever been part of, from the kindergarten nativity play upwards.'

Maeve squirmed with embarra.s.sment.

'Sorry about your mum,' she said.

'Hey, it's okay. I know you lost your mother too. That first year is tough. Everything changes so fast. Just hang in there, Maeve.'

'I'm trying,' she said. 'But sorry, I know this is weird, and none of my business . . . but I thought your dad said he'd been a priest.'

'He was for a while. He left the priesthood to marry Mum. It must have been so bad for him when she died and he was on his own with me and my brothers. We all went berserk for a while, but Dad pulled us through.'

Light and shadow flickered across Will's face and for a moment Maeve could see that he was remembering his mother. She knew that feeling, when all the hurt came rushing to the surface and then somehow you managed to push it back down. How could people who'd had bad things happen to them look so normal most of the time? She looked down at her own body, amazed at how much hurt, how many painful things she could keep inside it and never show the world.

The Wing Chun cla.s.s was held in an old building in Leichhardt, above a coffee shop. As they climbed the stairs to the second floor, the sharp, rich scent of ground coffee made Maeve feel awake and alert. It seemed to have permeated the walls of the building. Two sides of the studio upstairs were lined with mirrors. Rows of men and women in white stood practising a series of hand gestures in front of their reflections.

'I thought this was a martial arts cla.s.s,' said Maeve. 'Doesn't anyone fight?'

'Wing Chun is different to other martial arts,' said Lauren. 'It's not about brute strength, it's about neutralising your enemy. It's the only martial art that was invented by a woman, so it's very precise.'

Maeve smiled. 'That's cool. But does that mean I won't get to hit Jackson?'

Will laughed. 'They say that Ng Mui, the Shaolin nun who developed it, came up with the idea after watching a rat fight with a crane. That's why Jackson digs it. I've got to concentrate to keep ahead of him!'

Lauren shook her head. 'Will's being modest. He's already a Si-Hing, which means he's a senior student, and soon he'll be a trainee instructor.'

'I don't know,' said Will. 'Jackson's pretty good. He's got a big advantage being fourteen. He'll slaughter me in a couple of years time.'

'I'm fourteen next month,' said Maeve.

'That's a good age. Wing Chun was only fifteen when she became Ng Mui's student,' said Lauren. 'She was really beautiful but was bullied by this guy who tried to force her to marry him. So Ng Mui taught her to fight and then she challenged the bully to a fight and beat the s.h.i.t out of him. The technique was named after her.'

'That's why Lauren comes along,' joked Will. 'Trying to keep me from bullying her.' Lauren punched him playfully on the shoulder and then went to join her sparring partner.

Will led Maeve to the end of the room and introduced her to the instructor. When the students had finished practising, Maeve was paired with Jackson, who showed her the Wing Chun stance and the basic position for fighting. Then they practised a move where Jackson had to grab her from behind and the instructor showed her how to free herself from his grip.

'So, Warrior Princess,' whispered Jackson, when the instructor had moved on to the next pair of students. 'Time you really learned how to kick a.r.s.e.'

Maeve could feel the warmth from his body, even though he was centimetres away from her. Her heart started to beat faster as she waited for him to grab her again. As his arm encircled her neck, she caught the salty sweet smell of his skin. Instinctively, she executed the move the instructor had taught her, tracking her heel down Jackson's leg and ramming it into the crown of his foot while elbowing him in the ribs at the same time.

Jackson let out a grunt of pain, lost his balance and fell onto the mats. Maeve put her hand over her mouth, appalled at how hard she'd hit him.

'Sorry!' she said. 'I didn't think it would work that well.'

'I'm all right,' said Jackson, getting to his feet slowly. 'But next time, just try and maim me. You can kill me when the show closes, okay?'

23.

Auld lang syne The excitement backstage was like a shimmering electric energy that made the air itself seem to throw off sparks. Maeve and Jackson sat side by side in front of the mirrors in the dressing room while the make-up girls finished drawing in their high, arched eyebrows. It made them look slightly deranged, with their spiky blue wigs and their faces painted flat white. Jackson touched Maeve's shoulder as they stood together stage left, waiting for their call.

'Break a leg,' he said. 'But not one of mine, okay?'

'What if I stuff up?' said Maeve, stepping from foot to foot as if she'd caught Jackson's habit of perpetual motion.

'You won't.'

'How can you know? What if I go crashing into you and we both go flying?'

'Then we'll fake it.'

'Don't you get stage fright?'

'Of course I do. Like, so bad I want to be sick. That's why I learnt how to fake it!' He didn't look at Maeve as he spoke, and suddenly she realised he was as nervous as she was. But when the cymbals crashed and they tumbled out onto the stage, neither of them missed a beat.

The footlights were so bright that it was impossible to make out the faces of the people in the audience but Maeve knew Por Por and Goong Goong were out there. They'd flown down from Surfers Paradise especially for opening night. Andy would be sitting up in the Circle with Ned on his lap. Maeve put an extra spring in her step when she thought of how excited Ned would be when Andy told him that Maeve was that wild, bouncing, blue-haired Thing on stage.

At the end of the show, Maeve didn't want to leave the backstage area. She pulled off her blue wig and sat on the emergency exit stairs, looking down over the crowds of performers.

'Wasn't it brilliant?' said Bianca. 'Even if my part was so minuscule, this has been the best, best night of my life.'

'You were an awesome umbrella stand,' said Maeve.

'I thought Jackson was going to skewer me, the way he came flying across the stage with that umbrella like a spear. That guy must have ADD, he is so hyper.'

'But he's fun,' said Maeve.

'And cute, even if he is a short-a.r.s.e. Go on, admit it. You think he's cute.'

Maeve stood up and stretched, ignoring her. 'I'd better get out of this costume. I've gotta catch Ned and Andy in the foyer and then meet my grandparents at the stage-door entrance. Keeping them apart is like serious politics.'

Ned squealed with excitement as Maeve pushed through the crowded foyer towards him. As soon as she drew close, he lunged through s.p.a.ce, straight into her arms.

'You were incredible, Maeve,' said Andy. 'You and that other kid looked like you'd drunk rocket fuel.'

'Thanks, Andy,' said Maeve. 'Thanks for coming.'

'Do you want to come out for a hot chocolate to celebrate and then I'll drive you back to the boarding house?' he asked.

'I can't. They're waiting for me,' said Maeve, avoiding meeting his eyes. She didn't need to see his face to know his expression had grown cool.

'Well, I'll see you next Friday afternoon, then,' said Andy.

'I can't make it next Friday. We're doing a matinee for schools and there's an evening show too.'

'Right, I get it,' said Andy, taking Ned away from her.

'Don't be like that, Andy. I'll come the Friday after, I promise.'

'You do what you have to do, kid,' said Andy. He brushed his cheek against hers, a quick, perfunctory kiss, and Ned grabbed a handful of her hair. Then they were gone. Maeve pushed her way back through the crowd, suddenly feeling as if part of the thrill of the evening had seeped away.

In the dressing room, everyone was talking at once, elated at the success of the show. Maeve sat down in a quiet corner and stuffed her performance notes into her dance bag.

'Is everything all right, Maeve?' asked McCabe, noticing her sitting alone in the corner. 'Do you need a lift back to the boarding house?'

'No, it's okay. My grandparents are waiting for me.'

'Good, I'd like to meet them.'

Maeve frowned. Great. Just what she didn't need. She could imagine her grandparents' response to meeting one of her teachers. They'd probably start grilling McCabe about whether Maeve was keeping up with her homework.

Outside, the night air was warm and balmy. Por Por was standing by the stage door in the midst of a crowd of waiting parents. She looked small and alone beside the younger couples. As soon as she caught sight of Maeve, her face lit up with pride.

Maeve hugged her. 'Where's Goong Goong?' she asked. 'There's a teacher that wants to meet you both.'

'He's waiting in the car,' said Por Por, frowning. Suddenly, Maeve realised she could never second-guess her grandmother. Por Por obviously wasn't excited at the prospect of a parentteacher interview in the street. 'Are you ready to come back to Potts Point with us? Have you got your things?'

Before Maeve could answer, McCabe was beside them.

'Mrs Kwong, I'm Colm McCabe. I teach Maeve drama and music at St Philomena's.'

'Colm?' said Por Por, her eyes widening. She let go of Maeve's hand and Maeve felt her heart sink. She hoped Por Por wasn't going to say something to embarra.s.s them both.

McCabe looked uncomfortable too. 'Yes, ma'am. Colm McCabe,' he repeated.

'You don't recognise me, do you?'

McCabe looked confused. 'I don't believe we've met.'

Por Por laughed. 'Not for a long time. Pine Creek. 1956, I think that was the year. The last time I saw you. You've grown a lot and I'm probably not an inch taller!'

Maeve wanted to shrink inside herself with embarra.s.sment. What was Por Por on about? But then McCabe's frown lifted and he gave a shout of laughter.

'Lily! Lily Yen Lin! I don't believe it!' He reached out and took hold of Por Por's hands and they stood staring at each other in amazement. Maeve found herself standing off to one side, feeling bewildered. She was glad Goong Goong wasn't around. She knew Goong Goong thought it was uncool to shake hands with another man's wife, and more than that, there was something embarra.s.sing about two old people being so excited to see each other.

Por Por turned to Maeve and put an arm around her. 'Siu Siu, when I was younger than you are now, I used to play cat's cradle and hopscotch and chasey with your Mr McCabe! You wouldn't believe it, would you. Fifty years! Colm, I still feel like that little girl.'

'Maeve's so like you. I can see it now.' McCabe turned to Maeve. 'Your grandmother could kick higher than anyone I'd ever met.'

'Ummmm,' said Maeve in a small voice. Then she became aware of the fact that they were standing under the streetlight and nearly all the other parents had left.

McCabe pulled a piece of card out of his pocket and hurriedly scribbled on it. 'Here's my phone number at home and at work. There's a lot of catching up that we need to do. But most importantly, I wanted to talk to you about Maeve. She's a very talented young performer and I'd like her to be part of this year's drama tour to England and Ireland.'

'What?' said Maeve. This evening was getting weirder by the minute. 'But don't you have to be in Year 10?'

'Normally, yes. But we have a few spare places left this year.' He turned to Por Por. 'Bianca Storelli's parents are keen for her to partic.i.p.ate and I thought Maeve would make a good addition to the group as well.'

In the car on the way back to the flat, Maeve leant forward so that she could see her grandparents' faces, trying to read their expressions as she explained about the drama tour, but Por Por simply looked at Goong Goong, as if, like Maeve, she was trying to read which direction the wind might be blowing.

'Acting, dancing,' he finally said in a low, stern voice. 'This isn't real work. This is grown-ups behaving like children. And a holiday, during the school year? What sort of studying is this? What would you learn from this trip?'

Maeve slumped back in her seat and folded her arms. She thought, 'Maybe I'd learn something that would really annoy you. Maybe I'd learn about my real father.'

24.

Missing in action Maeve wished the show could run for months. It seemed unbelievable that after one short week it could all be over. On closing night, Bianca ran from one end of the girls' dressing room to the other, getting everyone to sign her Seussmania T-shirt. Jackson stood outside the door, his blue wig in his hand, waving for Maeve to come and talk to him.

'Are you coming to the after-party?' he asked.

'I'm not allowed to go,' said Maeve. 'My grandparents didn't like the fact it was in a club in the city. They think I'm too young.'

'That's too bad,' said Jackson. He looked at the ground as he shifted from foot to foot.

'Is something the matter?' asked Maeve. She could tell he was feeling uncomfortable, that there was something he wanted to say but he couldn't find the words.

'I got you these,' he said, thrusting a small pink package into her hand. 'I was going to give them to you at the after-party, but if you're not coming . . .'

Maeve couldn't make him meet her eye. He kept his gaze down and scuffed the ground with his foot as she unwrapped the tiny gift. Inside the folds of pink tissue paper lay a pair of earrings, two red-and-blue miniature Things. She laughed out loud.

'These are great,' she said.

'Look at them closely.'

Maeve laid the Things on the palm of her hand and studied them. On the chest of each creature was a letter.

'M and J. You and me,' she said. 'They're beautiful.'

Jackson grinned at his shoes.