Tears of the Moon (26 page)

Read Tears of the Moon Online

Authors: Di Morrissey

T
he arrival of a steamer was always a highlight and families turned out to greet any arrival as it came to the jetty on the high tide. It was a social occasion, the white community paraded in best clothes, ladies in large hats and lacy parasols held the hems of their dresses out of the red dust and were escorted by husbands wearing smart tropical suits. Children leapt about, enthusiastically dashing along the wharf. Chinese and Malay amahs, Koepanger houseboys or Japanese house staff watched over the young children or pushed babies in high-wheeled English prams.

The Resident Magistrate, with a party of special guests, were among the few invited by the Captain to be entertained on board. Passengers took the opportunity when the tide was out and the steamer sat on the exposed mud, to indulge in the novelty of walking about and examining the underneath of the hull. They also chose to stroll about Broome,
wrinkling noses at the smelly shell sheds and tantalising cooking odours from the Chinese eating houses serving long soup, chop suey and fried rice. They might pass an Aboriginal road gang in chains, they might be approached to buy a pearl by a figure shadowed in a doorway or lane. On the edge of town they might glimpse Mohammed and Moosha Khan leading their strings of laden camels to supply the pastoralists and Kimberley goldfields.

It was a busy time for the crew of the steamer, who had their own business to conduct—snides bought, smuggled goods exchanged and packets passed on to be posted from a foreign port. The European pearl buyers swept ashore like royalty to be greeted by the master pearlers, while Japanese divers, a royal class of their own, sauntered through Chinatown. Notorious Sheba Lane was always busy, the gaming houses and brothels benefiting from the influx of visitors and cash.

About twenty luggers and several schooners sailed in on the same tide, jostling for room at the wharf or going straight up creeks to the foreshore camps.

They created a noisy, hectic and colourful scene as families were reunited and the crews busied themselves with unloading. There was a confusion of wheelbarrows, drays, rail wagons, bags of shell, bags of mail, luggage of the steamer passengers and cargo from the south.

Almost every idler in town had also turned out for the diversion the scene afforded. Through the throng strode Yoshi carrying his helmet like a badge of high office.

By the time Olivia and Conrad arrived on the wharf most of the cargo had been unloaded from the
Bulan
. On the
Shamrock
, Tyndall was starting to cast off to sail to the foreshore camp while the tide was high.

‘There they are,’ cried Olivia, taking Conrad’s hand and pulling him forward with excitement. ‘Captain Tyndall,’ she called.

Tyndall looked up from the mooring line he was easing off, threw a quick wave then secured the line with a couple of half hitches. ‘Good to see you,’ he shouted and went to the side to help Olivia on board. ‘G’day, Conrad. Hope you’ve been as productive as our trip has been,’ he quipped.

Olivia gave him no chance to reply. ‘Oh, it’s great to see you all back, but you came in so early and you’ve worked so fast. Goodness, you must think we’re dreadful partners!’

Tyndall grinned. ‘No. No. Understand the late arrival perfectly. The beauty sleep could not be disturbed by anything as gross as business at sunrise.’

Olivia gave him a playful thump and Conrad forced a chuckle.

‘Good trip, John?’ he asked.

‘Almost beyond belief in one respect. Had a run in with a whale,’ said Tyndall rather enigmatically. ‘But more about that later, perhaps over dinner tonight at the Conti. However, from a business point of view, Conrad, you’ll be using more black than red ink as you tally up this lot.’

Conrad smiled. ‘Great news, John. And I’ve got some good news too about expanding the business … diversifying.’

‘Where’s Niah?’ asked Olivia suddenly, with an edge in her voice.

‘Ashore. Went home as soon as we berthed. No need for her to hang around here,’ explained Tyndall casually.

Olivia was aghast. ‘You let her go? You just let her walk off, just like that? After all the drama she’s caused. Whatever for?’

Tyndall was a little uncomfortable at the outburst. ‘Easy now, she’s a free person you know.’

‘How do we know she’ll go home?’ exploded Olivia. ‘Why did she run away anyhow?’

Tyndall pushed his cap back before replying a little awkwardly, ‘Well it seems she sorta felt she belonged to me. Stowed away in the sail locker. She wasn’t a problem really, as it turned out.’ He tried to keep a straight face but a silly grin sneaked through and blew out into a big smile that told them everything. ‘She’ll go home all right. To my place.’

‘Good Lord, man,’ gasped Conrad.

Olivia was speechless. Her eyes met Tyndall’s. His sparkled with embarrassed humour. Hers burned with anger and dismay. She turned on her heels and scrambled ashore, Conrad following, shouting over his shoulder, ‘See you tonight. Conti at sunset. You certainly know how to make a day interesting.’

Conrad went to the office, while Olivia, still furious and a little confused about the situation, snapped open her umbrella for protection from the heat and strode rather than walked to Tyndall’s house. Without knocking she marched into the house calling loudly as she went, ‘Niah, Niah.’

She stopped at the door of the sitting room, taken aback by the sight of Niah asleep on the cane lounge with one of Tyndall’s nautical caps over her face. Olivia shook her vigorously. ‘Wake up, Niah, wake up,’ she snapped.

The hat slid off. Her eyes opened sleepily. ‘Hello, mem.’ She languidly sat up while Olivia sat down stiffly in a chair.

‘Well, Niah, what happened?’ she demanded. ‘Why did you run away, and what is going on with Captain Tyndall?’

Niah hung her head. Olivia went on. ‘We’re very angry with you, Niah. You caused us a lot of worry. If you were unhappy, why didn’t you come and talk to us?’

Niah lifted her head and, pulling back her shoulders, a little in a gesture of resolution, looked at Olivia. ‘Captain Tyndall, me, make love. I live here now.’

Olivia gripped the arms of the cane lounge and flushed with shock and anger.

‘Sorry you and tuan worry, mem. I think mebbe you send me away.’

There was a silence as Olivia tried to gather her thoughts. ‘It’s impossible, Niah. Whatever went on at sea … no more.’ She waved her hand with a dramatic message of censure. ‘You cannot stay here.’

The girl bent down and picked up the skipper’s hat, fidgeted with it then smiled. ‘John say love Niah.’

Olivia closed her eyes for a moment, stunned by the words and furious at Tyndall for seducing the girl. Then she stood up and spoke sharply. ‘Right. I’m
going to sort this out with Tyndall. This simply cannot continue, Niah.’

Instead of seeking him out Olivia went home and sat on the verandah until her anger had subsided and her head had cleared a little. Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the mix of emotions and thoughts swirling in her mind.

By the time Conrad arrived home and the day was cooling, so was Olivia. She raised the matter with her husband as they readied for dinner at the Continental. ‘It isn’t going to be easy to stay civil with Tyndall over dinner, Conrad. He really has gone too far. Obviously he seduced the girl and she’s smart enough to take advantage of the situation.’

Conrad was sympathetic. ‘You’re probably right, dear, but it’s not going to be easy to sort out if he’s really keen on her, and that seems to be the case. You know a lot of this sort of thing goes on up here.’

‘But you must agree, Conrad, it doesn’t look good at all. From a business point of view.’

Conrad was considering what his lodge members would think, not to mention the Hootens and the rest of the social snobs if it appeared he and Olivia were condoning the relationship.

‘It’s a tricky one, I agree. I suppose she could be hired as a maid and live with the servants.’

Olivia thought this over and could see no other solution. ‘It could work provided Captain Tyndall doesn’t parade her around town. You’ll have to speak to him, Conrad.’

Conrad sighed and decided on a dressing drink while they got ready. A stiff one. He didn’t feel
adequately prepared to deal with such sensitive issues that had never before come into his sphere of existence. He also knew he had no hope of changing Tyndall’s mind once it was made up. And Olivia seemed unusually overwrought about the whole matter.

‘All we can do is hope that we can make him see reason and respect our wishes and feelings,’ Conrad offered. He sighed again and called for the houseboy to get him a gin and tonic.

The verandah of the hotel was crowded with pearlers and their wives along with Broome’s varied social milieu. Toby Metta, resplendent in a formal dark suit, moved among the pearling masters in their high-collared white uniforms with shining buttons and spotless white shoes. A whispered message here and there assured him there’d be plenty of pearls coming his way. Mabel, his wife, wrapped in a bright, gold-trimmed sari, waved at Olivia.

Conrad steered Olivia towards the last available cane table and chairs and signalled to a waiter. ‘G and T and a lemonade.’ After settling Olivia, Conrad then sat beside her, reaching for the spicy, dried nuts and fruit in a small silver bowl on the table. ‘I must say, Olivia, you do look fetching. Quite put the crowd to shame.’

‘Thank you, Conrad. You look splendid too.’

Conrad had, to Olivia’s initial surprise, ordered several sets of whites and wore the uniform of a pearling master with aplomb. He had thrown himself into life at the Cricket Club and while she had
no idea what went on at the Freemasons weekly lodge gatherings, Conrad found it all very rewarding and ‘useful’.

‘Dear me, have you noticed the pearls some of the women are wearing. Bit of a parade to outdo each other, isn’t it,’ smiled Olivia.

‘Bit silly to give the profits to the wives instead of selling them, I would have thought,’ said Conrad pragmatically.

Olivia felt the pearl ring on her finger but didn’t answer.

‘Going to be a good evening, there’s a magician of some sort performing at sunset in the garden I’m told.’

‘How exciting. Oh, there’s Tyndall.’ Olivia trembled slightly, anger flooding through her as he nonchalantly approached. Half screened by the hanging baskets of ferns, Olivia watched Tyndall make his way across the lawn. He, too, wore his whites, but in typical fashion he seemed to add his own dash of style. While some of the more ostentatious men favoured gold buttons—even real gold sovereigns when they’d had an especially big season—most men wore the silver buttons. Tyndall’s uniform had mother-of-pearl buttons and from his earlobe hung the magnificent pearl from a gold hoop. His collar was open, a gesture of studied informality. Olivia had been quite astonished when she’d first seen him on the beach near Cossack, but now she found this flamboyance rather appealing. He looked like he had just swung off the deck of a lugger, his hair curled around his ears and hadn’t been flattened in place by a solar topee like
most other men. In contrast, Conrad was immaculately turned out, but looked as if he had just been taken, freshly ironed, from a cupboard.

Tyndall paused to greet a family, the daughters twittering and dimpling at him.

Conrad grinned as they watched. ‘He’s a devil of a man with the ladies. I imagine he could have any woman in Broome, or anywhere for that matter. Yet, he doesn’t take any of them seriously … and has chosen someone quite unsuitable.’

‘If word gets out about Niah, there’ll be a few young ladies around town with their noses out of joint. Perhaps he should start to think about settling down and that would solve the problem,’ said Olivia.

‘Why?’ asked Conrad. ‘So he won’t bring gossip about unsavoury exploits down on the head of the Star of the Sea Pearl Company?’ He lifted an eyebrow. ‘I haven’t seen any young women with the same charms of Niah that would appeal to Tyndall,’ he hastily added.

Olivia didn’t answer for Tyndall had seen them and was making his way along the verandah. He shook hands with Conrad and bowed to Olivia. Ordering another round of drinks he sank into a chair, stretching his long legs in front of him.

‘So,’ he said.

‘So?’ repeated Olivia quizzically.

‘All is calm on the high seas, I believe.’

‘What was this whale business?’ asked Conrad, anxious to avoid the matter of Niah.

‘Ah, bit of a close thing actually.’

Tyndall recounted the episode in graphic detail.
Conrad sipped his drink, not sure if Tyndall was exaggerating but he knew his story could be easily corroborated. Olivia was fascinated by the tale, but also aware of her churning emotions as she realised how close he had come to being killed.

Conrad shook his head. ‘I don’t suppose you’ll do that again.’

‘Dive? I’m sure I will,’ grinned Tyndall.

‘You like living dangerously, obviously,’ said Olivia. And he gave her a penetrating look, wondering if she was referring to Niah.

There was an awkward pause and Conrad plunged in. ‘Now, about Niah. I do believe we have to discuss this.’

‘Do we have to do it here and now?’ Tyndall affected to look slightly bored.

Gently Conrad covered the points he and Olivia had discussed. ‘I mean, old chap, we are partners and what each of us does affects the other and the company.’

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