Cristy Burne - Aussie STEM Stars: Fiona Wood: Inventor of spray-on skin

Aussie STEM Stars series

Published by Wild Dingo Press

Melbourne, Australia

wilddingopress.com.au

This work was first published by Wild Dingo Press 2020

Text copyright Cristy Burne

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

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Cover Design: Gisela Beer

Illustrations: Diana Silkina

Series Editor: Catherine Lewis

Printed in Australia

Burne, Cristy 1977-, author.

Fiona Wood: Inventor of spray-on skin / Cristy Burne

ISBN: 9781925893281(paperback)

ISBN: 9781925893298 (epdf)

ISBN: 9781925893304 (epub)

Grasp the nettle with both hands and dont let go.

Fiona Wood

Disclaimer

This work has been developed in collaboration with Professor Fiona Wood. The utmost care has been taken to respectfully portray, as accurately as memory allows, the events and the stories of all who appear in this work. The publishers assume no liability or responsibility for unintended inaccuracies, but would be pleased to rectify at the earliest opportunity any omissions or errors brought to their notice.

Contents

Coal village kid

Who do you think you are?

The taunt came from behind. Fiona swivelled to see three big boys, taller than her, because, well, who wasnt? She was probably the shortest kid in her class.

Ignore them, she told herself. She readjusted her neatly pressed skirt and schoolbag and kept walking.

The day was grey, a typical Yorkshire morning with ice still shining on some of the puddles. Smoke tumbled from red-brick chimneys atop the two-storey brown-brick houses that lined the street. The walk to school wasnt long, and the cold didnt scare Fiona. Shed been up for hours already, practising.

Athletics Day was coming up. So was her ballet exam, and before breakfast was the best time to sneak a go with Mums rapiers. They werent real swords, not really, but it was sprout-picking season, so Mum was gone before first light, not back till after breakfast. Mums boss said brussel sprouts were sweeter if you picked them in a frost. As if brussel sprouts could taste sweet at all.

Mum had been a champion fencer. Shed been in the Womens Royal Air Force too, after the war. Shed had to lie about her age to get in.

Think youre better than the rest of us, is that it? called the biggest boy.

Too good for Frickley, are you? called his mate.

The jeering was closer now. Fiona checked the street ahead, scanning for someone who might help. If Geoff and David had been about, itd at least be an even fight. She quickened her pace.

Too late.

A rock bounced off the back of her schoolbag, another narrowly missed her head. You think youre right smart, dont you?

She could handle their laughter, their jeers, but not rocks being thrown at her head. Not again.

Fiona stopped where she was and turned to glare. All three boy wore school trousers with rumpled shirt collars under mismatched woollen jumpers. They looked mean, shoes scuffed and short hair sticking out like haystacks. Another rock. Fiona dodged.

Whats the matter? they taunted. Scared of a rock?

Im not scared, she said, keeping her voice steady, even as they came closer. And she wasnt scared, not exactly. More like annoyed. How dare they pick on a little kid? Theyd never even try it if her brothers were there. Looks to me like youre the scaredy cats. Three of you against one. Whats the matter? Scared of me?

They puffed their chests and stamped their feet, reminding her of grumpy sheep.

Whats that?

She calling us scared?

She cant do that. Rotten little

But Fiona didnt much care what they thought she could and couldnt do. And there was no way shed let these boys make her late for school. She ran. Quick as you like, they threw their schoolbags to the road and pelted after her, but Fiona was gone.

Faster than the wind. Legs like pistons. Faster and faster. She could hear the horns blast, the crowds roar. A fine start, shed found her stride. The world record was well within her reach. A sensational final sprint and yes! The crowds cheered. She smiled for the flashing cameras. A hot favourite for Mexico Olympics, she heard them say. Britains big hope for bringing home the gold!

Fiona? The sound of Davids voice broke through her dreaming. You alright?

She looked around, chest heaving and muscles alive. She was at school. She was all in one piece, schoolbag on, no sign of the lads, which meant shed made it. There was a reason she was an Amateur Athletics Association sprint champion. She flashed David a cheeky grin. Alright. You?

Alright. He grinned back, twinkling brown eyes just like his sisters. He was a fast runner, too. The athletics kids called him the Frickley Flyer.

David knew about the bullies. He also knew Fiona could handle them. Between David and Geoff and baby Nicola, Fiona knew the Wood kids could do anything.

Because in a way, the bullies were right. She did want something better than Frickley. All the Woods did.

There was nothing wrong with Frickley, not really. Her Uncle Cyril had literally never left his village, not even to go five miles down the road, and loads of others were the same. Frickley had an awesome football ground, home to what was surely any-season-now soon-to-be Englands number one amateur football team, Frickley Colliery Football Club. Plus, there was the Frickley Colliery Brass Band, that even Grandma admitted was chock-full of talent. And Frickley had a stream to play in and fields to run in and even a super-ancient stone church that Dad said had been around since before the plague. Gruesome!

Best of all, though, it had the coal mine and the farms. Which meant Mum and Dad had jobs, Mum even had two, plus night school, and Dad worked shifts down the pit, just like all the other Frickley dads. Coal dust paid for their clothes, their food, the rent on their pit-owned house. It paid for Fionas ballet leotards and Geoffs football boots and Davids rugby gear. It had even paid for their first car, a blue-and-white Sunbeam that was the envy of the village.