Cicada Summer by Kate Constable Page B

could see the summerhouse from her bedroom. So her room must be on this side of the house—
    Eloise risked calling in a whisper, ‘Anna?’
    A door clicked open, and a high, excited voice hissed, ‘I’m here!’
    Eloise dived inside and Anna instantly slammed the door behind her. ‘Oh, I’m so glad you’re here!’ Anna’s cheeks were flushed, and her eyes were huge and shiny. She threw her arms round Eloise and squeezed her tight.
    Eloise had a confused impression of overflowing bookshelves, drawers yanked open, an old-fashioned white bedstead with the covers tossed about. The next instant Anna released her.
    ‘I was starting to think I had imagined you. But I didn’t, did I? You’re as real as me.’
    ‘We’re as real as each other,’ Eloise assured her, but as she spoke she felt giddy again. Were they real? Were they dreaming? If she belonged in Anna’s future, should she be here now? Suppose Anna suddenly decided not to have any children, would Eloise vanish, like a shadow when the torch clicks off ?
    ‘Dad’s so upset with me. He says I’m too old for imaginary friends and he says I’m not even allowed to go to the summerhouse on my own . . . He rang Mumma in America and she was nearly going to come home.’ Tears poured down Anna’s cheeks. ‘I miss you so much,’ she wept. ‘You’ve been away so long.’
    Eloise felt stricken. She didn’t know what to do. ‘I can’t help it,’ she whispered. ‘It’s not my fault.’ She put her arms around Anna and hugged her. Anna smelled of soap and toast.
    ‘I want to come with you,’ sobbed Anna. ‘I want to go to your place.’
    Eloise stiffened. ‘I don’t know if you can .’
    ‘Where is it, where you come from? It’s a different time, isn’t it?’ She pulled away and gazed solemnly at Eloise. ‘Are you dead? Is that why you came?’
    ‘No!’ said Eloise. ‘I’m not dead.’
    ‘Are you sure?’
    ‘Of course I’m sure,’ said Eloise uncertainly. ‘Anyway, if I was dead, you couldn’t come with me.’
    ‘I could die too. Then we’d be together all the time.’
    ‘No!’ said Eloise in horror. ‘Oh, no, you can’t do that! And I’m not dead.’
    ‘Dead people never think they’re dead,’ said Anna matter-of-factly, dabbing at her eyes. ‘But if you’re really not dead, you must come from the olden days.
    Do you come from the olden days? Why can’t I go back with you?’
    ‘Because . . .’ stammered Eloise. ‘If you’re not here . . . You just can’t.’
    ‘If I came into your time, I could be invisible like you,’ said Anna. ‘Is it fun being invisible?’
    ‘No,’ said Eloise. ‘It’s horrible.’
    Anna stuck out her bottom lip. ‘I still want to come. I want to see what the olden days are like. I want to stay there for a while, with you. I want to give Dad a big fright .’
    ‘You can’t,’ said Eloise urgently. ‘Anna, you can’t do that. You have to stay here, with your dad. He’d go crazy if anything happened to you. The only reason he got so upset is because he was so worried. He doesn’t want anything bad to happen to you, you’re the most important thing—’ She broke off. Suddenly she knew it was true. To Anna’s dad, Anna was the most important thing in the whole world.
    Eloise knew that she wasn’t the most important thing to her father. Lots of things were more important than she was: work, projects, convention centres, girlfriends, money, cars, running away from everything that possibly reminded him of Mum.
    Maybe Eloise reminded him of Mum. Maybe he was running away from her as well . . .
    ‘I have to go,’ she stammered. She felt peculiar, insubstantial, as if she really were a ghost, as if she might float up to the ceiling. She shouldn’t be here; she couldn’t stay any longer. ‘Goodbye, Anna.’
    She bolted from the room and ran down the hallway. It seemed that her feet skimmed along the blue-and-brown rug almost without touching it. Was she fading away? What if she was