Free New Guinea Moon by Kate Constable

think it’s time I learned how to manage Keriga so I can take over when the time comes.’ He raps the fence. ‘Touch wood, he’s got a good few years left. He’s a tough old bastard. ’Scuse my French.’
    â€˜Could I come and visit your coffee plantation some time? I’ve never seen a plantation; it sounds so romantic.’
    Simon laughs. ‘Nothing romantic about it. Just bloody hard work.’ He leans on the fence so he’s half-turned toward her. It’s almost dark now, she can hardly see him; he’s just a voice in the shadows. He says proudly, ‘My father was one of the first Europeans to come into the Highlands, back in the nineteen-thirties. He arrived just after the Leahy brothers.’
    â€˜Wow,’ says Julie respectfully, and makes a mental note to ask Tony who the Leahy brothers were. Maybe they’re related to the Leyland Brothers who have that cheesy TV show . . .
    â€˜Dad’s never been back to Australia,’ says Simon. ‘Not even to visit me at school. He loves this place. God’s own country, he calls it.’
    â€˜Is that why he married your mum?’
    â€˜Well,’ says Simon after a moment. ‘They didn’t exactly get married.’
    Julie’s cheeks burn. ‘Well,’ she says at last. ‘My parents didn’t stay married — so that’s kind of the same thing, isn’t it?’
    â€˜Your name’s McGinty, isn’t it. Sounds as if you’re Irish, too.’
    Julie feels caught out. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know anything about Tony’s family. We’ve only just met, really. He and my mother split up when I was little, and he came up here. This is the first time I’ve visited him.’
    â€˜You don’t know anything about your people, about where you’ve come from?’ Simon sounds shocked. ‘That must be rough.’ His voice is so gentle, she realises that he feels genuinely sorry for her.
    Suddenly the darkness makes it easy to talk to him; or perhaps it’s the punch. She says, ‘It must be rough for you, too. Caught in the middle.’
    Simon is silent for a moment. ‘Sometimes,’ he says. ‘But in a way I feel lucky, you know? I’ve got the best of both worlds.’
    â€˜My mother thinks I should change my name,’ Julie tells him. ‘She’s gone back to her maiden name, and now she wants me to take it, too.’
    â€˜But you’d rather keep your dad’s name?’
    â€˜It’s not that so much. But I can’t take her name.’
    â€˜Why not?’
    She lowers her voice. ‘It’s . . . Dooley.’
    They both laugh. Julie feels a sudden sharp pang of homesickness for her mum, for their empty house, for the beach, for her friends — but then, like a cloud crossing the face of the moon, it passes away. She stands next to Simon in the darkness, not speaking, but comfortable in the silence. At their backs, the noise of the party is building steadily: music, laughter, the clink of glasses, all wrapped into a muffled roar. Above their heads, the stars are beginning to wink into the velvet sky.
    Simon says in a low voice, ‘Did you make your friend invite me tonight? You can tell me the truth. I want to know.’
    â€˜No,’ says Julie honestly. ‘It was nothing to do with me. He just ran into you and he thought — he thought you might like to come.’
    â€˜I don’t normally get invited to this kind of thing. My social life took a bit of a hit after the primary school birthday parties dried up.’
    â€˜Well, that’s crazy.’
    â€˜Yes. It is.’
    â€˜I’m glad you came,’ says Julie impulsively. ‘Andy and Teddie —’
    â€˜There you are! What are you doing hiding back here?’
    It’s Ryan Crabtree, storming out from round the corner of the house. He grabs her hand. ‘I’ve been looking for you