Chapter One

"Daddy carry me p'ease," insisted Elizabeth Jane imperiously, stopping still and raising her arms.

Daddy didn't hesitate, and dropped Mummy's hand to swing Miss Elizabeth up onto his hip, from which vantage point she could better scan the crowd. Elizabeth had found that she liked people, as long as she could see their faces. At the age of not-quite-two years old, this preference had its own challenges, and she quite often had to resort to demanding the services of one of her Nearest and Dearest.

Happily, said N&D were both indulgent and numerous, and if the occasional butler, maid, doctor/godmother or taxi driver found themselves pressed into service, it was always on the understanding that Needs Must when the Devil (or demonic toddler) Drives. The fact that porterage was invariably rewarded with a big hug and a sloppy kiss on the cheek made all the difference.

From the perspective of Daddy's hip, Luna Park became a lot more manageable for Elizabeth (who noted approvingly that once he'd settled her comfortably, he secured Mummy's hand again. A lady could get lost in such a noisy crowd, and if in doubt, she had been told always to look for a policeman. It was very considerate of Daddy to make sure that Mummy wouldn't have to look very far).

A chorus of screams met their ears, and they swung round with one accord to see – and hear – the Scenic Railway passengers taking in the scenery. The passengers in this case made up in quality what they lacked in quantity – only two young couples were on the ride, and the ladies were making most of the noise. The cars descended and ascended dutifully along their given track, hats and safety-bars gripped equally tightly by the occupants. The train raced to the curve at the top of the climb, and seemed to judder for a moment, then in a thrilling pretence, appeared to depart from its rails altogether, pitching the cars for a few ear-splitting (on the part of the passengers) seconds into clear air.

Then a few more seconds. And the screams stopped being thrilled and started to curdle the blood. And the cars – and the screams – stopped abruptly, in a patch of waste ground just outside the perimeter fence, one after the other, with the passengers landing messily on top of one another in a jumble of splintered woodwork. The brake-man's standing position saw him fly over them, a Luna angel with a regrettable lack of wings.

Daddy passed Elizabeth to Mummy, who calmly informed her daughter that they both wanted ice cream immediately, and turned both their faces resolutely away from a scene the likes of which Mummy had thought she wouldn't witness again after the Great War. Daddy sprinted, stomach churning, towards the Luna Park Incident.

A/N As ever, this is a work of pure fiction, built from the author's imagination, and bears no relation to the real-life, excellently-maintained environment of Melbourne's historic Luna Park.