About the Book

  Meet Willa and Woof

  Join these best friends for a story full of adventure, imagination and loads of fun!

  Aunty Jane’s wedding venue has burned down, but Willa is determined to save the day. Can she and Woof rescue the wedding?

  Contents

  Cover

  About the Book

  Title Page

  Dedication

  Chapter One: Dresses and Drama

  Chapter Two: The Dragon

  Chapter Three: Worry Wart

  Chapter Four: Under Attack

  Chapter Five: Burned Down

  Chapter Six: A Mystery

  Chapter Seven: The Baker

  Chapter Eight: Aunty Jane

  Chapter Nine: The Organiser

  Chapter Ten: Boys to the Rescue

  Chapter Eleven: Plots and Plans

  Chapter Twelve: The Great Escape

  Chapter Thirteen: Surprise!

  Read more Willa and Woof

  About the Author

  Jacqueline Supports

  Books by Jacqueline Harvey

  Imprint

  Read More at Penguin Books Australia

  For Ian.

  My name is Willa and this is my dog, Woof. We’re sitting at the kitchen table at Frank’s place.

  Frank is my best old-age friend. He lives next door to our house in a villa at Sunset Views Retirement Village. There’s a gate that goes straight from our yard to his, which is very handy because I visit almost every day.

  If he’s grumpy when I visit (which he is quite a bit), I make sure that I try to cheer him up. Today it’s the other way around. I’m grumpy and Frank’s doing his best to make me feel better. It isn’t working.

  ‘So you reckon your dress makes you look like a meringue?’ Frank says. ‘You know meringues are delicious.’

  I give Frank a glare. ‘Not if you have to wear one,’ I say, and take a sip of my tea. I saw Frank put three scoops of sugar in when he made it. Usually I tell him that’s too many, but this morning I need sweetening up.

  ‘And you’re sure that your aunty bought that one?’ Franks says.

  I nod. ‘After lunch she went back to the shop and said that we didn’t have to keep looking anymore. I’d say that’s pretty definite.’

  Yesterday, Mum and Aunty Jane and I went shopping for my flower girl dress for Aunty Jane and Uncle Anthony’s wedding. It’s really soon. We were supposed to do it ages ago but Aunty Jane has been so busy. She and Uncle Anthony are moving to Italy straight after the wedding. His family is from there, so they’re trying it out for a couple of years. (Aunty Jane says they should do it before they have kids, but I think kids would love living in Italy. Imagine all that pizza and pasta. Not to mention gelato for dessert every night.)

  The wedding is at a place called Brookside Barn (which isn’t really a barn anymore, so I don’t know why they call it that). There’s special rooms to get ready and a huge kitchen as well as the big hall. It’s handy because Aunty Jane and Uncle Anthony rent a cottage on the farm right next door.

  ‘What do you think about Willa’s dress, Woof?’ Frank asks. Woof hasn’t moved from where he’s lying on the tiles in the kitchen, trying to get cool. Even though it’s early in the morning it’s already boiling hot. I feel sorry for Woof because he has fur. He also has to wear a coat most of the time. That’s because he’s an albino Irish wolfhound and he gets sunburned really easily. We have special lightweight summer coats for him, but I take them off when he’s inside.

  Woof wags his tail.

  ‘He hasn’t even seen it yet,’ I tell Frank.

  ‘That doesn’t matter. Woof says you’re going to look lovely, Willa, no matter what you wear,’ Frank says. I’m pretty sure Woof doesn’t care that much about my dress. Frank really is trying hard to cheer me up.

  Woof has a job at the wedding too. Mum says he’s the ring bearer (which is just a fancy way of saying he’s carrying the rings). I’ve been teaching him to walk with a little pillow attached to his collar, and Mum has bought him a gorgeous white coat just for the wedding. I can tell he’s really excited. More than me, now that I know what I’m wearing.

  There’s a knock at the back door. I jump up to answer it and hope that it’s not Mrs Wilson. She’s the lady in charge at Sunset Views. She wears high heels that make her feet hurt and her temper bad, and she has caterpillar eyebrows that I call Bert and Hilda. Luckily it’s not her. It’s my best same-age friend Tae.

  He’s spending the day with me because his parents are going Christmas shopping over at Wattle Creek.

  ‘Morning, Tae,’ Frank says.

  ‘Hi, Frank,’ Tae replies. The fact that Tae even speaks to Frank these days says a lot. He used to be scared of Frank, but I think Tae knows now that although Frank is very old and very grumpy, he has a heart of gold. And Tae has also realised that Frank has really good cakes that Mrs Best makes for him (even if he tries to tell us that he makes them himself). This morning there’s lamingtons and they’re delicious.

  I get another tea cup for Tae and put a lamington on a plate.

  ‘And who are you today?’ Frank asks.

  Tae has a dark green jumpsuit with patches sewn on the front and a matching cap. He has heavy boots on too.

  ‘I’m a pilot in charge of the big Air-Crane helicopter that helps put out bush fires,’ Tae says.

  ‘Well, that would be an exciting job,’ Frank says, then takes another sip of his tea.

  Tae’s name means ‘person of greatness’ in Korean, so each week he tries out someone new to see what he’d like to be when he grows up. Lately he’s been a policeman, a fireman, a doctor, a vet, a soccer player and a zookeeper. I tell Tae it’s too much pressure for someone our age (he’s only eight and a half; I’m eight and three-quarters) but he says it’s good to have a goal. I have goals too, but they’re more short term – I can’t think that far ahead.

  ‘It’s so hot out there,’ Tae says as he sits down at the table. He takes off his cap and a trickle of sweat runs down his face. Maybe a lifesaver would have been a better choice for his person of greatness this week. Then he could have worn his swimmers instead.

  It’s lucky that Frank’s not stingy about running the air-conditioning at his place. He says at his age he might as well be comfortable – he’s not sure how many years he has left. I’ve told him to stop being dramatic. He knows he can’t kick the bucket (his words) at least until I leave home. Where else will I get sweet cups of tea and cake for breakfast?

  ‘Dad says there’s a fire over the other side of the mountain. They think it was started by the lightning from the storm last night,’ Tae says.

  ‘Wouldn’t the rain have put it out?’ I ask.

  Frank shakes his head. ‘There wasn’t enough in that shower to fill Norman and Mimi’s bird bath. It’s tinder dry out there at the moment, Willa – it won’t take much for a blaze to take hold in these conditions.’ Mimi and Norman are Frank’s prize-winning pigeons.

  We’ve never had a bushfire in Hibiscus Gardens that I can remember but last summer there was one in the national park. Frank says that years ago there was a big one – lots of houses got burned down and even the surf club was singed (which is weird because it’s right on the beach).

  Tae asks me about yesterday’s flower girl dress shopping. I tell him about the meringue dress and that Aunty Jane told me I looked like a princess. I don’t want to be a princess. I just want to look like me but a bit fancier than usual.

  Tae grins. I tell him it’s not funny. I was even more stressed than he is when Mrs Tan’s Chihuahua (who would you believe is called Princess) chases him down the street and he breaks out in hives.

  ‘I’m pretty sure I’m allergic to dress shopping,’ I say. Tae says that I can’t be allergic to that but he wasn’t there.

  I see Frank looking out the window and follow his gaze. There’s a grey smudge in the sky.

  ‘I don’t like the look of that,’ Frank mumbles.

  The smoke is getting darker. I can smell it too, even though Frank’s got the windows closed.

  ‘Do you think the fire will come to Hibiscus Gardens?’ I ask. My tummy feels fluttery.

  ‘Let’s hope not, Willa,’ Frank says. ‘That’s the last thing anyone needs.’

  Tae and I say goodbye to Frank. He’s planning to spend the day on his recliner watching the cricket. It’s called a lazy boy, but I think lazy man is more like it.

  On the way past the aviary we look in on Frank’s prized pigeons. Norman is fluffing his feathers in the bird bath and Mimi is walking around the floor. Neither of them look happy. I don’t think they like this hot weather much either.

  If only we had a pool. We’d have room for one if Dad got rid of his big junk pile down the back, but Mum says it’s the last thing on her list of renovations – the pool, not the junk pile (although I know she’d be happy if he cleaned that up). Besides, the beach is only a few minutes’ drive away. I can feel the sweat trickling down my back. Maybe if I give Mum and Dad all the money I have in my piggy bank we could get the pool sooner. I hate sand in my swimmers – especially my bottoms.

  Woof whines beside me. He didn’t want to come home until I said he didn’t have to wear his coat. Surely he won’t get skin cancer from a two minute walk?

  ‘Look at that,’ Tae says, pointing to the mountains that rise up behind the town. The smudge of smoke is even bigger than before and now there’s a red glow too. It looks like a dragon up there (like the one I imagine lives under Dad’s junk pile
) though I don’t say that out loud.

  The wind is starting to whip through the trees. I can smell the eucalyptus leaves and the cicadas are making a racket.

  ‘What if the fire comes?’ I ask, looking at Tae. In the distance I can hear sirens.

  He takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. ‘I’m ready for action.’

  I don’t want to disappoint him, but I’m pretty sure Tae’s a bit young to be in charge of a firefighting helicopter in real life. I think he’d have to do a lot of training first.

  Dad’s loading some hoses into the back of his ute and checking his gear. He’s always super organised (a lot like me). Mum says that’s why he’s the most popular plumber in town.

  ‘Hey, kids, how about a swim?’ Dad asks.

  ‘Don’t you have to work?’ I reply.

  ‘Unless it’s an emergency, no – it’s too hot,’ Dad says.

  ‘I’m in,’ Tae says. I nod my head.

  ‘Run and get changed then, and see if your brother wants to come too.’

  It’s lucky Sam’s cricket team has a bye this weekend. I can’t imagine standing in the middle of the oval all day in this heat.

  Tae left a bag with his clothes and swimmers at our place before he came to Frank’s. He’s having a sleepover tonight.

  Five minutes later we pile into Dad’s ute. It’s a dual cab so there’s enough room for everyone.

  Mum says that she’ll stay home and look after Woof, but I know that’s only because she hates sand in her swimmers even more than I do.

  As we drive down the street, I turn and look at the smudge of smoke up on the ridge.

  ‘How far away is the fire?’ I ask.

  ‘It’s in the national park, Willa, over the escarpment. The wind’s blowing it away from us, so don’t worry,’ Dad says, but I’m not so sure. That glow seems to be getting redder.

  On the way to the beach I see Robbie from school (he’s in Year Five – two years ahead of Tae and me) walking up the track that goes to the showground. I wave but he doesn’t see me. He’s always in trouble, but he did find Woof when he was missing a little while ago and my koala diary too (that’s a whole other embarrassing story). Maybe Robbie’s not as bad as people think.

  The beach is packed and there are cars everywhere. Dad has to drive around the block three times before he finds a spot. Half of the kids from school are here and I can see some of our neighbours too.

  I find a space to lay out our towels, then Tae and I lather ourselves in sunscreen before I kick off my flip flops and run across the burning sand to the water.

  Sam and Dad go bodysurfing but Tae and I paddle closer to the shore.

  ‘Hey Tae!’ I shout out and kick the water, making a big splash. He splashes me back. We run up and down and jump into the little waves before we sit down and build a sloppy sandcastle that keeps getting washed away. I find some shells to add but they don’t stick very well. Dad and Sam are bobbing up and down in the sea.

  I wave to them and Dad waves back. They’re coming in.

  Tae and I run up the sand to our towels. I see something floating in the air and try to catch it. It’s a burned leaf. That’s weird.

  The wind is blowing harder now and it’s changed direction.

  Our neighbours, Mr and Mrs Vozzo, were having a swim too. Mr Vozzo gives me a wave. His shoulders are really red – he must have forgotten his sunscreen.

  I turn and see Dad and Sam running up the beach. They grab their towels.

  ‘Dad, look at the smoke!’ I shout, but my voice catches in my throat and they don’t hear me.

  ‘Anyone hungry?’ Dad yells.

  Tae and Sam nod but I can’t think about food at the moment. I’m too worried – even though no one else seems to be. All I can think about is the imaginary dragon on the mountain ready to breathe fire all over us.

  The wind is blowing so hard now that the trees are bending almost in half. It’s so hot my swimmers are already dry by the time Dad turns into the driveway.

  ‘Is the fire coming?’ I ask. I’ve been thinking about it the whole way home (which is not very far).

  Dad looks at me in the rear-view mirror. ‘I don’t think so, Willa, but we’ll keep an eye on things.’

  ‘And we’re ready if it does,’ Sam says.

  A few weeks ago he and Dad cleaned out the gutters (I helped rake up all the leaves) and Dad has hoses with pressure nozzles on all the taps around the yard. Mum’s got the important things in the house in one place in case she needs to grab them in a hurry too – like photos and some of my hair from when I was a baby. It’s a little blonde curl. I wish my hair was still the same colour, because now it’s just boring mouse brown.

  ‘Maybe you should have cleaned up the junk pile too,’ I say. Dad ignores me. He’s always telling Mum there’s a lot of useful stuff down there. Personally, I can’t see it.

  Tae and I hop out of the car and head inside, with Dad and Sam behind us.

  Mum’s in the kitchen. She’s making a salad to have with some cold chicken for lunch. Sam starts buttering bread rolls and Tae sets the table. I still can’t think about eating. I walk around the house, peering out the windows into the street. There’s no one around. It’s too hot and windy for gardening. I head back into the family room and out to the deck.

  I can’t see the ridge from here, but I’m imagining that dragon up there, straining to get away – a million times bigger and scarier than the one under the junk pile. The smoke is spreading across the sky and it’s really dark.

  I go back inside. ‘Dad, do you think we should hose down the house?’ He just turned the telly on and now he and Sam and Tae are watching wrestling.

  ‘No, Willa, it’s okay,’ Dad says. Then he shouts, ‘Body slam him!’ Tae and Sam start their own match on the couch.

  No one is listening to me.

  ‘Do you want me to pack some things?’ I ask Mum, who’s putting dressing on the salad.

  ‘Why? I thought Tae was staying here tonight. His bag is in your room,’ she says.

  ‘Because of the fire,’ I say.

  Mum looks at me with a frown. ‘Oh, Willa, don’t worry. We’ll get plenty of notice if we have to pack up – and it’s never happened once since your dad and I have lived in Hibiscus Gardens.’

  ‘Frank says there was a really big one when he was younger,’ I tell her. Mum puts her arm around me and gives me a squeeze.

  ‘Oh, sweetheart, you need to stop being such a worry wart,’ she says, and kisses the top of my head.

  I bite my lip. Warts don’t worry – although when I got a wart on my big toe I worried a lot (until Mum took me to the doctor and he froze it off).

  Woof is lying on the floor. He’s hardly raised his head since we got back. I suppose if he’s not worried maybe I should try harder not to be as well.

  Mum calls everyone to come for lunch. Dad and Sam and Tae are still glued to the telly until she grabs the remote and switches it off. They all groan but hurry to the table and tuck in.

  I pick at my chicken and nibble some lettuce, but I’m still not hungry.

  The wind sounds like a tornado. Woof stands up and walks to the sliding door. I hop up to let him out. He probably needs to go for a wee. (He’s so good, he never does any business in the house – except once when he was really little he pooped in Dad’s shoe. That was gross, especially because Dad didn’t realise until he put it on.)

  It looks like it’s raining, but the rain is red. They’re not raindrops. They’re sparks.

  ‘Dad! Look!’ I shout.

  ‘Oh, that’s not good,’ Dad says, and jumps up out of his seat. ‘Get the paperwork, Tess, and start packing the car.’

  The dragon is on its way.

  Mum runs down the hall to her and Dad’s room. I can hear her opening and closing drawers.

  ‘Willa, put some clothes in your school backpack and get Tae’s overnight bag too. And find some food for Woof,’ she shouts.