‘Nearly seven.’
‘Seven! That doesn’t seem possible – you look too young.’
‘I was only nineteen when she was born.’
‘Oh,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘I suppose that makes sense then. Where is she staying?’
‘She’s at boarding school.’
Marlon digested that fact. ‘I went to boarding school but not quite so young.’
‘Yes, her father insisted – anyway, she wanted to go.’ Junie hated how weak it sounded when she said it out loud.
‘I detested it. Then again, I was a teenager and it was an all-boys school. I missed seeing girls…especially pretty ones like you.’
Her heart began to hammer. ‘Stop trying to charm me, Captain Stone.’
‘Stop being so charming and I will.’
The few feet between them suddenly seemed like inches and she was aware of his physicality in intoxicating detail: that he was slightly unshaven; that his shirt held faint traces of petrol; that his hair needed cutting where it touched his collar.
‘I think I need to remind you that I’m a married woman.’
‘Not much of a marriage, from where I sit.’
She went to protest but couldn’t deny it. ‘It’s complicated.’
‘Like I said, not much of a marriage then.’
The charged energy between them was broken by the sound of approaching voices and Marlon held her eyes just a second longer before getting out to assist the others on board. Ernest and Eliza fell in amid much laughter, carrying an assortment of objects she had bartered for.
‘Had to do some shopping,’ she explained and Junie observed the phallic statue in her arms with amusement. Then Gus arrived and they loaded the last of the equipment on board.
‘Ready to fly, monkeys?’ called Marlon as the engine whirred into life and he began to whistle.
It seemed the whole village had come to watch the plane take off and they waved until it found the sky once more. The mountains and valleys melted away beneath them, shrouded in mist one minute, brilliant in the sun the next, and Junie watched the patterns cross them thoughtfully. Looking back to the hidden valley, she decided again that it truly was like the place in Lost Horizon: hidden, timeless, beautiful. A paradise where man could take his fill from nature’s bounty. But in other ways it was as secretive and dangerous as anywhere on the planet. A place where men ate the flesh of other men and believed that a white ghost walked among the living, somewhere in those shadowed gorges.
She wondered about the spirit man, this Kuji, and what kind of life he led, if he existed at all. Then she shook her head at her own folly. Even down there, man couldn’t cheat death, because it wasn’t a true paradise. Life wasn’t eternal in the Shangri-La Valley any more than it could be in the great cities of the world; babies were born, people grew old and died like everywhere else.
And the dead remained dead. That much, sadly, she knew.
Forty-one
‘How much?’
‘You heard me.’
Marlon stared at Judge Mosley, stunned. ‘You can’t be serious.’
‘He is a thief, Captain Stone, with no witnesses to say otherwise. Find me five thousand or he can rot, for all I care.’
They argued for a while until they were interrupted by a knock on the door.
‘Sorry, Your Honour. She wouldn’t wait,’ the assistant said as Junie breezed in.
‘Good afternoon,’ she said. ‘I do apologise for being late but I was caught up in discussing this case with some witnesses. Have I missed any progress regarding my client?’
Marlon and the judge stared as she sat down, taking off her gloves.
‘Your client?’ the judge said.
‘Yes, Joseph is a friend of mine and I do like to look after my friends. Goodness, it’s awfully stuffy in here. I must ask my husband to look into some better ventilation. The budget is coming up, I understand,’ she added, fanning her face with her notebook.
‘That won’t be necessary, Mrs Farthington, and I fail to see why you feel the need to offer your legal services to a native, especially in this case. It is quite black and white, I assure you.’
The judge seemed displeased with her presence and Junie seemed pleased in the knowledge.
‘Oh, I’m well aware of the black and the white issue…and the red as I understand. Poker can be rather addictive, can it not? Red may be quite the colour your wife turns if she finds out about your gambling habits, Your Honour.’
Marlon had to smile at the expression on the judge’s face. Junie had gotten the better of the man before and she was in her element again now. He sat back and let her talk, preparing himself to enjoy the show.
‘I have no idea what you mean.’
‘It’s a curious thing that, in high society, the men seem to think the women are oblivious to what goes on behind closed doors, but the truth of the matter is we know everything. Boredom leads to gossip, you must understand, and I’m afraid I’ve been hearing some rather dreadful gossip about you today. It seems you’ve been spending some time down at the Jungle Club? In the back room…?’
The judge had turned a very bright pink. ‘Rumours mean nothing to me.’
‘Yes, but rumours ruin reputations, I’m afraid, and I know your wife is rather protective of hers, which by unfortunate association depends on yours of course.’
‘Come to your point, Mrs Farthington,’ the judge said darkly.
‘Let my client go free and return his winnings and I may invite you and your lovely family to luncheon at our home. That should silence this terrible gossip, don’t you think?’
The judge laughed. ‘You seriously overestimate the value of your invitation, Mrs Farthington. The law overrides petty politicians in this part of the world.’
‘The politicians make the laws, Judge Mosley.’
The judge gave a shake of his head. ‘The winnings belong to the crown, as does the fine, which still stands. Five thousand and not a penny less.’
‘Two thousand and you return the items that belong to my client. And no mention of this on his record.’
Marlon moved forwards at those words. ‘Junie, can I speak to you –’
‘Three thousand,’ said the judge.
‘Two and a half,’ Junie said, putting up a hand to stop Marlon interrupting again.
The judge tapped his fingers together as they waited in the airless room.
‘I hope you have cash.’
They were laughing as they sat in the hotel bar and Marlon ordered celebratory drinks.
‘You were brilliant, I must say.’
‘So grateful, missus. To think that you would go to so much trouble without even knowing me. I can’t thank you enough. I can’t…’ Joseph had been wiping at tears since they brought him out of the cell and led him into the fresh air. A storm that would relieve the heat had been brewing – almost as if the afternoon itself knew the tension was breaking.
An older New Guinean, Joseph was quite articulate in English, based on the rambling thanks he kept offering, and he had a sincere, open face that further confirmed Junie’s confidence in his innocence.
‘Justice prevails,’ she said happily as the drinks arrived. This man’s expression was all the recompense she wanted but Marlon was having none of that.
‘We’ll pay you back. Every penny. As soon as the contract comes through from Philippe.’
‘No, justice is enough reward for me.’
‘Nevertheless –’
‘Don’t be silly. I have plenty of money. Eliza always talks Ernest into giving me ridiculous amounts for shopping.’
‘I would have thought he was careful with money.’
‘He is. But he also knows that my appearance is an investment in his career, or so Eliza tells him.’ She leant forwards and said in a conspiratorial whisper, ‘I’ve been a bit cheeky over the years and tucked a fair bit of it aside. You never know when you might need it for a rainy day, and today it’s pouring.’ She pointed outside to where t
he rain was now bucketing down.
‘Still, I feel uncomfortable using another man’s money.’
‘It’s my money and, believe me, I earn it. Come on, enough talk of that. What shall we drink to?’
‘Rainy days,’ Marlon proposed, and they clinked their glasses and drank.
‘Oh,’ said Joseph with a deep, satisfied sigh. ‘That’s really good.’ They laughed and he reached into his pocket, taking out the small bag they’d handed him. ‘Can’t believe you even got my watch back.’
‘Just as well. Cost me a bloody fortune,’ Marlon said.
‘You said it was an old one of yours that didn’t work properly,’ Joseph replied and Junie giggled as he added, ‘he tells lies. Lucky he wasn’t on trial.’ He shook the other item out and held it. ‘I know you say justice is enough reward, miss, but I will repay you somehow, one day – and with more than money. Whenever you need me, I will help you. This I vow,’ he said, and she was moved by his sincerity. ‘Meanwhile, please take this silver lighter as a seal to this promise. It’s yours now.’
She took it, knowing she could hardly refuse, and thanked him. ‘That is very kind Joseph, thank you. I –’ She paused, feeling the inscription on the back and turning it over to read it before continuing.
Then the world stopped around her, fading to grey. The faces, the tables, the room. Nothing existed except the sound of the rain that beat with her heart as she read the words that were etched in the silver. For it was her own hidden truth that lay in those tiny grooves, echoing a moment long gone. The moment that had haunted every day of her life since. Her own words, brought back by a ghost and placed in her hands as the heavens opened.
Burning Palms, December 1941.
Forty-two
Marlon and Joseph had been concerned but Junie had to get out of that room. She had to run. She had to think.
Kuji. A ghost had owned Michael’s lighter. The only gift she’d ever given him had survived. Whoever he was, wherever he found it, this Kuji knew something about that plane wreck and she had to know what it was. Any tiny clue. Anything. Even to have a crash site to lay a plaque with his name. All of their names. Those beautiful Elite boys, stolen from them in a single blow.
The moment returned in familiar, terrible replay when her gentle mother said the most violent words of her life:
‘It never arrived and they are missing…presumed killed.’
‘…all of them?’
‘All of them, my darling. They’re saying it’s impossible for them to have survived – there’s nowhere they could have landed.’
‘But they…they could have used parachutes…?’
‘They weren’t wearing any when they boarded.’
Nowhere to land. No parachutes. Junie remembered her head swimming in desperate circles as her mother continued.
‘I’m so, so sorry…I know they were your friends…Michael was like a brother, really, wasn’t he?’
‘Missing?’ she’d whispered the terrible word.
‘Yes. It seems too cruel. Such a devastating thing to carry for their families.’
Missing. Until now.
Junie desperately needed to talk to someone from home and she longed for Katie but settled for Eliza. Today, more than ever before in her life, she needed a friend.
It was time at last for Eliza to know the truth.
Junie rushed in the room and flung her wet jacket on the chair. ‘I need to speak to you,’ she said, her breathing in great rasps.
‘Good Lord, calm down,’ Eliza said, startled from her magazine. ‘Anna, fetch a glass of water. And some gin. Hurry, girl.’
The maid ran and Eliza drew Junie to the couch, holding her hand.
‘What on earth’s wrong?’
‘It’s something we should have spoken of long ago…secrets between friends,’ she began, taking out a handkerchief with shaking hands.
‘Shh, it’s all right. Have a drink,’ Eliza soothed, as the tray arrived and she poured a generous amount of gin over ice.
Junie took a gulp and several deep breaths.
‘Now, start from the beginning.’
She looked to the ceiling, tears brimming. ‘The beginning? When was that? When I agreed to this sham of a marriage?’
‘Marriages like ours are arranged, not welcomed.’
Junie nodded, sniffing. ‘I guess that’s why we – we can’t resist when someone else offers what we really want…’
‘I think that’s exactly why,’ Eliza said softly, patting her hand. ‘You’re being so good about this.’
‘Am I? Well it’s hard to know how to explain it after all this time.’
Eliza shrugged. ‘I guess we just have to put it down to chemistry.’
‘Yes. Chemistry. And when the drug is right there in front of you, what choice do you really have?’ Junie said, taking another drink and wiping at the tears that were sliding down her cheeks. ‘We’re just flesh and blood really, aren’t we?’
‘I’m glad you understand that. I’ve been hoping you would.’
Junie looked puzzled. ‘Of course I do…I know exactly why I did it.’
Eliza paused mid-drink, a fleeting look of realisation passing over her face. ‘Why you had an affair?’
‘No, it was much more than just an affair. It was love,’ Junie said, crying now. ‘It was love.’
Eliza refilled their glasses. ‘Why on earth didn’t you tell me?’
‘It was early days. I guess I didn’t know you well enough and then…’
‘And then what? He went to war and you figured why bring it up?’
‘Exactly.’
Eliza stood and began to pace the room. ‘And now what’s happened? Is he in New Guinea? Does he want you back?’ She stopped, clicking her fingers. ‘It’s Marlon, isn’t it? I knew there was something between you two.’
‘No,’ Junie said, tears clogging her words. ‘No, Marlon’s just a friend. This man can’t want me back. He – he died.’
‘Oh,’ Eliza said. ‘Oh, I’m so sorry, Junie.’ She sat, taking her hand again. ‘He…he was one of those country boys, wasn’t he? In that Elite squad that went missing?’
‘Yes.’ Junie whispered. ‘His name was Michael. Michael Riley. You know, my friends’ brother.’
‘And…was today the anniversary of his death or something?’ Eliza said.
‘No…today I found out a clue about him. I might be able to find out where they crashed. Or…I don’t know – anything about what happened. That ghost man in the Shangri-La Valley. The Kuji. Pukz said he traded this with him.’
Junie took out the lighter and Eliza traced the inscription.
‘It was Michael’s. It was a gift…from me.’
‘1941,’ Eliza said in wonder. ‘However did it get down there?’ Junie sniffed. ‘That’s what I need to find out.’
Eliza nodded thoughtfully. ‘Well, one thing’s for sure. The ambassador’s wife can’t very well traipse herself off into a valley full of cannibals to visit a ghost, now, can she?’
‘No. And being the ambassador’s wife won’t help me organise a search party, because I can’t very well show this to Ernest. The engraving – that was when I was with Michael at the beach.’
‘Burning Palms. Lord, that sounds raunchy. Was it a place or a physical state?’
Junie couldn’t help but smile. ‘Both,’ she admitted. ‘Ernest knows I was there on a holiday with the girls but he doesn’t know the boys met up with us. He’d make the connection. He’d know I was with another man when we were engaged.’
Eliza shrugged. ‘And that matters now because…?’
‘Because I need his help.’
‘And this would hardly motivate him. I see.’ Eliza thought for a moment. ‘Does it really matter that much to you? To know where they ended up?’
‘It matters to all of us,’ Junie whispered, holding the lighter once more.
‘Yes, I suppose so,’ Eliza said. ‘There’s a lot of people left in the dark, isn’t there? Let me pond
er on it for a little while and see what I can come up with. And don’t worry about Ernest. I can handle him for you when the time comes,’ Eliza said.
Junie nodded, exhausted now as her head fell on Eliza’s shoulder. ‘You always do.’
‘I’m sorry to barge in but you’ve had me worried sick. What happened? Why did you leave like that?’
Junie looked like she’d been crying all afternoon and Marlon’s concern increased as she gestured vaguely towards the couch.
‘I’m so sorry, Marlon. Please, have a seat. Coffee? Tea? Wine?’
‘Anything. What happened?’ he repeated, sitting opposite her.
‘I just…had a bit of a shock,’ she said, pouring from the half-empty bottle of chardonnay. She was shaking.
‘I could see that much,’ he said, waiting.
Junie sipped her drink and he wondered how much she’d had. Then she took the lighter out of her pocket and handed it to him. ‘I recognised it,’ she said simply.
‘From where?’
‘It belonged to a – a friend of mine. I gave it to him – that’s my inscription.’
Marlon stared at the lighter, incredulous. ‘Was he…did he serve over here?’
‘Yes. He died here. No-one knows where exactly. The whole squad never came back – they say it was a plane crash…’
‘They lost contact during a freak storm.’
‘Yes.’
‘And there was an American pilot called Harris?’ Marlon asked slowly.
Junie froze. ‘Yes, that’s the name. You knew him?’
‘I knew all of them. The Elite were with me. In Wau.’
Neither said a word as they stared at each other in shock, digesting this link they hadn’t known they shared. A painful memory that had sent them individually into dark places in the years that followed that tragic day.
‘Which one did you give this to?’ he asked, tracing the words on the lighter.
‘Michael Riley,’ she whispered.
Marlon closed his eyes briefly, seeing him clearly when she said his name. ‘I remember him well,’ he said, his voice breaking. ‘Very well indeed.’
Junie nodded and her anguish was evident as she took the lighter back and held it against her chest.
Worth Fighting For Page 30
