Rain Music (33 page)

Mrs. Pedersen then asked me to evaluate the children's musical ability. I said that I believed Helena would truly benefit from being at our school, and that Atlanta, whose talent seemed quite exceptional, would also profit from being educated at St. Mary's.

Sister Mercy and myself were both disappointed when Mrs. Pedersen shook her head and said that she did not think she would send them there as all the children were company for each other and they had their own interests about the farm. She suggested that instead we should return on a regular basis to the Pedersens' homestead to further their musical knowledge. Then she announced that she had to attend to her bees and, thanking us for our efforts, she replaced her hat and veil, gathered up her gauntlet-like gloves and left the room, though it seemed to me that her presence lingered. There are some women who are very definite people and who make a lasting impression. Mrs. Pedersen is one of these.

I thoughtfully picked up my sheet music and pushed it into my bag and Sister Mercy and I walked back along the corridor, where we heard Father O'Brien's voice. We turned to look for him and he greeted us and said that he hoped that all had gone well. He then took us to join Mr. Pedersen in the conservatory, where our host was to show us his collection of orchids and other unusual plants that he has found in this part of the world. As we entered the room and looked around us, we were amazed by the variety and beauty of Mr. Pedersen's orchid collection. The flowers ranged from thumbnail size to some whose extent was almost equal to that of my hand. Everywhere was a jumble of colours, from vibrant yellows, pinks and lavender to deep purple, blues and creams. Some stems seemed to hold dozens of blooms, while others no more than one or two. It was a dazzling display. Both of us were overwhelmed by the beauty around us and said so.

Mr. Pedersen thanked us for our comments and said that this was indeed a rich land, with so much for the taking, and that he derived great interest from collecting the wild orchids off the hillsides and from the trees where they grew in abundance.

Sister Mercy rightly said that it was hard to pick a favourite among all the splendour, but she pointed out a beautiful pink orchid that was quite exceptional and asked its name.

Mr. Pedersen told us that it had been named the Cooktown orchid, and agreed that it was splendid. It was only discovered a couple of years previously, he told us, but such was its beauty that even now it was being propagated in the greenhouses of European botanical gardens.

As we were preparing to leave, Sister Mercy took the opportunity to suggest that Mrs. Pedersen might like to come to St. Mary's when next she was in town. Unfortunately, it seems that Mrs. Pedersen doesn't care for the society of Cooktown, as Mr. Pedersen said she was too occupied with her own interests to spare the time. I naturally thought that Mr. Pedersen was referring to the raising of their children, but to our astonishment we later found out from Father O'Brien that Mrs. Pedersen's primary interest entails the breeding of horses, which she exports to India.

As the four of us walked back to the dog cart which the old native had ready and waiting for us, Father O'Brien asked Mr. Pedersen what the crop was that he had growing down by the river. Mr. Pedersen replied that it was a crop of peanuts. He added that his banana trees also flourished in this climate and his Chinese gardeners were most excellent at their job. It appears that Mr. Pedersen sends his produce to the goldfields, where the miners are very happy to exchange a nugget for some fresh greens or fruit. Father O'Brien congratulated Mr. Pedersen on his enterprises.

Mr. Pedersen bade us farewell and Father O'Brien took the reins as we trotted down the driveway, past the orchards. He was full of admiration for the initiative that Mr. Pedersen had shown since arriving in Australia. Father told us that Mr. Pedersen had taken him to a stone barn, where our host had set up a laboratory for the preservation of animals that he himself, or others on his behalf, had caught. Father told us that there were hundreds of dead animals there in various stages of preservation; birds arranged as though in mid-flight, stuffed animals in different poses, bottled reptiles and piles of eggs which he was unable to identify. Mr. Pedersen told him that he has orders from all over the world for these rare and unusual creatures. Indeed, there are so many requests that he finds it difficult to fill them all, for there is always interest in Australian fauna. And, it appears that his work has become quite famous, as international scientists visit his laboratory on a regular basis.

The three of us agreed that Mr. Pedersen has indeed made the most of the various ventures that have presented themselves to him in this country and that his efforts are much to be admired. This is certainly the land of opportunities.

Sister Mercy said that she hoped the Pedersens would give Helena and Atlanta the opportunity to attend St. Mary's, but Father O'Brien shook his head. He thought that if the Pedersens had wanted the girls to go to our school, they would be there already. Perhaps, he ventured, the good Reverend Mother will see fit to allow us to continue visiting the Pedersens to teach the girls. I, however, think that our Reverend Mother will consider such an arrangement a poor use of our time. So I smiled at Father O'Brien and told him that our Reverend Mother can be very persuasive when she chooses, and that I would do my best to encourage her to persuade the Pedersens to enrol the two girls.

Now, as I look from the window of my room across the town that I have come to know well, I consider myself most fortunate to have been chosen by our Lord to come to a place that is filled with such interesting people. And I am comforted in the knowledge that our Blessed Virgin Mary watches over us all, both here and in Ireland. I am hopeful that we will have the opportunity to teach those two girls, especially Atlanta, whose voice shows such wonderful promise.

May God bless you,

Your loving daughter,

Evangelista

*

Bella had been more than a little tired when she'd gone to bed, but after reading this letter, she was suddenly wide awake.
Attie
,
Atlanta
,
such an unusual name
, thought Bella. It was the same as the one Roberta had mentioned when she told stories about her family. Surely this had to be the same person. If it was, then the little girl that Sister Evangelista had written about in her letter did go on to become a famous singer.
I can't wait to tell Roberta about this. I bet she doesn't know about the letters in the museum
, thought Bella.

She also could not help but think about the Pedersens and what an unusual family they were. The idea of setting up a business to sell stuffed and preserved Australian animals all over the world repulsed her. Thank heavens Australian wildlife was valued these days and that sort of thing was no longer acceptable, she thought, remembering the wonderful time she'd spent in the Daintree and the flora and fauna in that rainforest, as well as the conversations she'd had with Roberta.

Bella turned off the light and tried to sleep, but as she lay in bed, her mind became crowded with thoughts about the events of the past two days. It had been a roller-coaster ride. Her abduction had been so traumatic, and she realised how truly lucky she had been that Ned and the others had been able to find her. What if they hadn't come? She shuddered. Being lost and alone out there in the bush didn't bear thinking about, so she turned her mind to other things. Since she had been in the north she'd met some interesting characters, although some she would rather not have met. There was still a sense here of pioneering wildness and, as was the case for the Pedersens all those years ago, there were clearly opportunities for the taking. She felt that Far North Queensland was a little-understood place in which one could escape, to experience a different pace of life and to lose oneself in the immensity of the landscape, so beautiful in its extremes. But after all that had happened she was not entirely sure that she wanted to be a part of it. How ordered, simple and placid her old life now seemed. She was very secure and settled in her job at the Tennyson City Council, so did she really want to give it up for this great unknown? Could she make such a move? And then there was the question of Brendan . . . There were no easy answers. She tossed and turned a while longer and finally fell into a fitful sleep.

*

Ned had breakfast under way early the next morning and had already poured a cup of tea for Toni when Bella wandered into the kitchen. She sensed that she had interrupted something, but neither her brother nor Toni said anything except to ask her how she was feeling. Bella assured them that she was in better shape than she had been yesterday.

‘Are you sure that you want to go into Cooktown today to sign your statement? I'm certain it could wait until tomorrow,' Ned said, his brow furrowed as he buttered Bella some toast.

‘I guess, but the police did ask me to come in today. I really think that I should cooperate with them,' Bella replied.

‘Yes, of course. But we'll have to leave pretty soon to be sure of getting back before it gets dark.' He paused, turning to Toni. ‘Toni, is this all okay with you?'

‘Of course. It's important you sign your statement
as soon as you can,' said Toni, patting Bella's hand
sympathetically.

‘I'm so sorry to mess up this weekend,' sighed Bella.

‘It's hardly your fault,' said Ned quickly. He started to pour some coffee and then said, ‘Look, since we're going into Cooktown, maybe it's time to return the Bish's box to the museum. I'll have to move out of here altogether pretty soon and it might be a good idea to get it back to them now when it's convenient. We may not have finished reading all the letters, but at least I have managed to catalogue most of the contents.'

Ned handed Bella a mug of coffee, Toni more tea and a plate of toast each. ‘Those letters are so interesting,' said Bella, between bites. ‘I read one last night in which Sister Evangelista wrote about a girl who I think is the same person Roberta told me about, a singer who was connected to her family. Roberta called her Clare, but Sister Evangelista says her name was Atlanta. I'd like to find out more about her. The story sounds really fascinating.'

‘You could talk to Ken Harris, the curator at the museum. He takes a great interest in local history and he might be able to tell you something more,' suggested Toni.

‘Right, it's settled then. We drive into Cooktown, Bella goes to the police station, then we'll drop off the Bish's box at the museum. I've got some books I have to return to the library and then we can grab lunch at the seafood restaurant and afterwards Bella and I can drive back here before dark,' said Ned.

‘I'll have to pick up my car from the roadhouse,' said Toni, swigging the last of her tea and taking her plate to the sink.

‘Yes, I know,' said Ned. ‘Will you be okay driving my four-wheel drive into Cooktown, Bella?'

Bella certainly didn't feel at all confident about driving by herself into Cooktown. The road was long and remote and she'd only been along it once before. She knew that nothing was likely to happen on the drive, but she felt nervous at the thought of being alone. She opened her mouth to reply, but before she could say anything, Toni spoke.

‘Why don't you ride with me after we pick up my car? It would be nice to have your company on the long drive, Bella.'

Bella glanced at her brother. ‘Are you sure?' she asked.

‘Yes,' said Toni, not looking at Ned. ‘It would be lovely for the two of us to spend a little more time together.'

Ned didn't comment, so Bella nodded in agreement. She got the impression Toni wanted some space from Ned, but at the same time, Toni seemed to have sensed that Bella didn't want to be by herself on a lonely road after her terrible ordeal.

An hour later, they were on their way. At the roadhouse, Toni thanked Frederick and Theresa for looking after her car.

‘No problem, Toni, and happy to keep an eye on yours
too, Bella, but I don't expect we'll get much of a chance as you'll be heading off soon, I expect,' said Theresa.

‘Yes, don't leave it too long to get out of Carlo's place,' cautioned Frederick. ‘Or you'll get stuck there for the next few months.'

After farewelling Frederick and Theresa, Toni and Bella got into Toni's car. ‘I'll follow you both,' called out Ned. ‘Lead the way.'

As they headed onto the highway, Toni said wryly, ‘Well, it's been an eventful visit for you.'

‘In lots of ways,' said Bella. ‘I could have done without being kidnapped . . .' She tried to make it a light comment, but she knew her voice sounded strained, so her comment fell a bit flat. ‘But the good news is . . . your news.'

Toni pursed her lips. ‘Yes, well . . . I'm really not sure what Ned thinks or feels about it,' she said.

Bella sighed. ‘Ned's a great brother, always has been. But I don't think he's in a good space at the moment. I know that he's feeling really concerned because his grand plan of creating a musical masterpiece isn't working out. I don't think he knows where to go next. Not that I'm suggesting that his trouble with his musical is a good enough reason for him being so indecisive about the baby, of course!'

‘Thank you for saying that. I certainly agree with you there, but I have to say that a musical doesn't sound like something you can just manufacture out of thin air. It must be such a difficult thing to create,' said Toni. ‘He's chosen a tricky career path.'

Bella nodded. ‘Yes, Ned is very creative, but he also insists on being infuriatingly independent. He's had record deals offered to him, but he has always turned them down. He says he doesn't want to make “their” kind of music; he wants to do his own thing. The one album he did put out was a success, but no more have been forthcoming. I think it's a pity as he is, in my opinion, very talented.'