Kimberley Sun

by Di Morrissey

  ‘You’ve definitely decided to stay here then?’

  ‘Yep. I’ve got to go back next week and start sorting out the nitty-gritty – like quitting my job. Any suggestions about work up here when I get back?’ he asked jokingly.

  Bobby was quiet for a moment, downing the last of his light beer. ‘There could be something happening with Tim Hudson. I don’t think I’m talking out of turn, anyway this is a small town and news gets around. But I drove him up to Red Rock Bay to an old pearling farm. He says he’s got some money people behind him so he must be thinking of building it up.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know much about pearling. Though it’s in the family. Still, I might be able to do some manual work of some kind. But that’d be down the track.’

  He sounded wistful and it hit Bobby that life didn’t always run according to plan. He wondered where he’d be in another fifteen years or so when he was the same age as Ross. Would he still be going from job to job? ‘It makes me think about what I’m doing. My father will have to give it away at some stage and I’m not going to be there to take over. I have a sister and a little brother, but being the oldest I think I was supposed to keep the family business going.’

  ‘It’s difficult when you don’t have the inclination,’ agreed Ross.

  ‘Or the head for it. I’m a people person. I’m not into shuffling paper, organising lots of freight and trucks. I’m hoping my little brother might be more interested in trucks ferrying produce and freight round the countryside than I am.’ Bobby got up. ‘Anyway, thanks for this morning. I’ll tell Dad it’s unlikely he’ll get hit again. He’s taking a lot of precautions. It’s sad really, Broome was never a lock your doors kind of place.’ A thought struck him. ‘The last robbery I knew about was a bunch of kids from a community near Bradley Station. I put that one down to boredom.’

  ‘I wouldn’t say that’s the case with your father’s place. It seems like they had a plan in mind.’

  They shook hands. ‘We’ll have to do this again, eh?’ Ross grinned at the younger man who’d befriended him, and whose cheerful personality made him good company.

  ‘Any time, mate. Always ready to chuck a line in.’

  Looking at the dramatic pearl jewellery in the glass display cases at Pauline’s shop gave Sami immense pleasure. From what she could hear, some tourists clustered around other jewellery further down the counter were expressing similar feelings. When Pauline finished wrapping a necklace and slipped it into the shop’s distinctive black bag for the one buyer in the group, she came over to Sami. ‘Hi, it’s been a busy morning. And rather intriguing.’

  ‘Why is that?’

  ‘Come out the back for a minute.’ She led the way to her desk, opposite a mirror window that faced into the shop. ‘You know that metallic sun Bobby gave you? Look at this.’ She took the box from a drawer and laid the sun on the desk. ‘See, there’s the orb and all the rays coming off it. Well, when I was fiddling with it I found that you can twist one of the rays, and . . .’ she paused to demonstrate, ‘bingo, it clicks into place and the lid flies open. How about that?’

  ‘Ooh, a secret hiding place. Is there anything inside that little tube?’

  ‘Yes, this.’ Pauline pulled out a roll of paper not much bigger than a postcard when spread out.

  ‘Strange writing, if it is writing. What do you suppose it says?’

  ‘I think it must be some sort of writing, but I don’t know what language it is. It looks like hieroglyphics. I wonder if Bobby knows.’

  ‘I doubt it or he would have mentioned it. Bobby said it belonged to that German guy who got lost.’

  ‘Well, whatever, I like the sun shape,’ Pauline said. ‘It’s inspired me. So I might do a celestial range – suns and moons, stars and constellations.’ She held the sun up to her throat. ‘See, you could wear it as a necklace, there’s even a little loop.’

  ‘It looks fab. I wouldn’t mind one of those.’

  Pauline put the roll of paper back in the sun and shut the box. ‘I’ll give it back to Bobby. What are you doing now?’

  ‘I’m off to the Historical Society, see you later maybe?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, a friend, Greg, has lobbed in from Perth with a mate. He’s an engineer, aircraft maintenance or something. We’re going to dinner then up to the Mangrove, there’s a good band playing. Do you want to come along?’

  ‘Do you know anything about him? I don’t want to get stuck with some deadhead.’

  ‘I don’t have a clue. But it’ll be a quick dinner then a mob of us are meeting up with some of the pearling crew from Kuri Bay, so there’ll be safety in numbers.’

  ‘Okay. Why not? I’ll meet you at the restaurant. Which one?’

  ‘Thai Drum, around eight.’

  ‘Thanks. You know, I’ve got an academic friend I’m working with at the moment who might know what that note you found in the sun might mean.’

  ‘Oh, what does he specialise in?’

  Sami tried to keep a straight face. ‘Bagpipes. He plays bagpipes.’

  The dinner had been passable, Sami decided. Greg and Pauline were fun and Greg’s friend, Brian, was good looking if somewhat arrogant. By the time they got to the Mangrove they were all getting on fine and the crowd from the pearl farm were in high spirits. The band was a local one who were making a name for themselves nationally. Their music was danceable and their lyrics powerful. It was a balmy starry night, coloured lights were strung around the garden, and everyone was in a party mood.

  After dancing a while and a few drinks, Sami found herself sitting next to Chris, one of the divers from the Kuri Bay crew. He was lean and fit and laughed a lot. She asked him why he slaved away so many hours a day underwater picking up shells. ‘The novelty must wear off pretty quickly,’ she said. ‘How long are you going to keep doing it?’

  ‘A few more years. The money’s real good. I can make more in a three month season than my IT mates make in a year.’

  ‘You just like being king pin on the farm,’ kidded Pauline. ‘The drift divers think they’re the top guns of the deep.’

  Chris gave an easy grin. ‘It’s deadly competitive, so it makes it a challenge.’

  ‘Between all the other divers?’ asked Sami.

  ‘That, and your own physical fitness and the dangers of the job. The hardest part is getting through the pearl diving examination. Anyone who’s done a bit of diving thinks they can pick up shells off the sea bed.’

  ‘So how hard would that be?’ chimed in Brian, who had been working in aircraft hangars most of his life.

  ‘Not too hard, I guess,’ said Chris easily. ‘Once you’ve got your open-water dive ticket, passed the medical for commercial diving, had your chest and bone X-rays checked, swum two hundred metres in under four minutes, passed a stiff written examination of technical and medical questions, then done the tricky practical.’

  ‘Which involves?’ Sami asked.

  ‘Ah, getting locked in a chamber that heats you up till you’re cooking, then goes down to freezing your toes off. You’re tested to see how you handle nitrogen narcosis so you don’t lose the plot and be a danger to everyone as well as yourself. That kind of stuff.’

  ‘I see why there’s a high failure rate,’ said Sami.

  Chris gave a grin and lifted his beer. ‘Some of us are meant to be divers, others can punch a keyboard. I know what I’d rather be doing.’

  ‘You work for one of the big farms, would you work for a new, small operation?’

  ‘Why not? You go where the money is – if you’re any good.’

  ‘I’m interested in how a pearl farm works,’ Sami said.

  ‘If you want to know that, go and work on one,’ said Chris. ‘Lots of girls like the life. There are all sorts of jobs going but you’ve got to be fit and prepared to take it as it comes.’

  Sami enjoyed talking to Chris. He was pleasant, and she was trying to glean as much information as she could about his job and the state of the pearling industry. She was also trying t
o distance herself from Brian. She’d already told Pauline that Brian was a bore, and she planned to walk home to Moonlight Bay on her own as it was almost next door. Brian, meanwhile, had downed his beer and was halfway through the next. He had turned his attention from the diver to the musicians, who were on a break. Two of them had joined the group at the table as they knew some of the locals, including Dale’s son, Simon.

  Suddenly there was a scuffle at the far end of the table. Brian was arguing with the Aboriginal guitarist, shouting, ‘He bloody well shoved me. Made me drop my beer, the bastard.’

  ‘You’re pissed, Brian!’

  ‘This bugger deliberately pushed me.’

  A pretty Japanese girl was furiously mopping spilled beer off her shirt. Sami didn’t hear the next exchange but someone yanked at the musician to get him away and he flung out an arm which clipped Brian, who started swinging.

  ‘It’s on for young and old now,’ declared Chris, jumping to his feet and taking Sami’s arm. ‘C’mon.’

  But it was over in a flash. Calm was restored by one of the hotel staff who moved in swiftly and firmly, and a man who had been sitting at a nearby table. ‘Go and play some more,’ the staffer instructed the musician. ‘That would be the best thing.’

  The other man got Brian quietened down, then asked the Japanese woman, ‘Are you okay?’

  ‘It is all right,’ she replied. ‘No harm done.’

  Sami turned to the woman and introduced herself. ‘Hi, I’m Sami and this is Chris. Would you like to join us?’ She was obviously on her own, a backpacker, thought Sami.

  ‘Thanks, I will. My name’s Mika.’ She gave a shy smile.

  When Chris and Sami brought Mika over to the table, Sami was surprised to recognise the man who had stepped in to break up the argument – Tim Hudson.

  He gave Sami a nod of recognition and sat down next to her. ‘Getting a feel for local culture?’ he asked with a grin.

  ‘You might say that. It was a great night until a few minutes ago. I was thinking of leaving soon anyway.’

  ‘Stay a bit longer, have another dance, Sami,’ said Chris, giving Tim a hard look.

  ‘Tim is a friend of my mother’s,’ Sami began, and then, seeing a warning flash in Tim’s eyes, said no more. She realised he wanted his interest in buying into the farm kept quiet. ‘Chris is a pearl diver on a bit of rec leave. And this is Mika. Are you on a holiday?’ Sami was glad of the diversion.

  ‘I’m here on long leave from my job. I’m doing some research. I teach history,’ she said, ‘and I am interested in the pearling history.’

  ‘I’ve got Sami interested in pearling, I suggested she get a job up at a farm,’ said Chris.

  ‘That could be a good idea,’ responded Tim casually. ‘As a matter of fact I’m off to Indonesia, going to the farm where I used to work. Why not come and have a look at that?’ he added a little cheekily.

  ‘No thanks,’ said Sami stiffly. ‘I have some research of my own to do.’

  ‘On your PhD?’

  ‘Possibly. I’m also helping my mother out. She has some crazy scheme I think needs more thought.’

  Tim kept a straight face and nodded. ‘Very sensible. You look like you’re ready to go. I’m heading your way, I’ll walk with you.’

  ‘God, what a pain that Simon is. He got the band guys going deliberately.’ Pauline had returned from the dance floor. ‘Goodnight, Sami, catch you later.’

  Sami had no option but to leave with Tim. They walked in silence down the driveway from the Mangrove.

  ‘So what are you doing in Indonesia?’ she finally asked. ‘Bringing back bags of money?’

  ‘I hope so. Talking to the investors. Telling them what a good prospect Star Two could be.’

  Sami slowed and looked at him in the starlight. ‘You mean they are prospective investors? You don’t actually have the deal in the bag?’

  ‘No. The money is not confirmed yet, if that’s what you’re asking. I was asked to look around for a good investment over here. They think pearling sounds a good thing, given the current social status of pearls and the prices they’re bringing in. And being Japanese, they appreciate pearls. Initially I didn’t hold out much hope of getting into a pearling deal, I was looking more at tourism.’

  ‘Well, you’d best keep looking. I don’t know that this deal is going to come off. I’m going up there with my mother to look at it.’

  ‘Good idea. Do you know much about pearl farms?’

  She ignored his sarcasm. ‘I’m not too thrilled at the whole deal. And maybe you won’t get the money. What happens if you don’t get the funding or if my mother doesn’t agree to go on with it?’

  ‘That would be unfortunate as she has the connection with the original Star of the Sea. I’d just have to find another partner.’ Sami didn’t respond and he asked calmly, ‘What’s your main objection?’

  ‘It’s risky, you must admit that. And I don’t want to see my mother lose everything she’s worked for because she’s sentimental and easily persuaded.’

  ‘Sami, it was your mother who persuaded me, not the other way round.’

  ‘You’re young, you can take a risk with other people’s money. I don’t think she should do it.’

  ‘Fine,’ he said shortly, surprised that Sami obviously considered that her mother was over the hill. ‘But I intend to work to make Star Two a goer.’

  They were at the entrance to Moonlight Bay. ‘Good for you. Goodnight. Thanks for escorting me, but you didn’t have to.’

  ‘I know. Oh, and Sami, when you’re up at Red Rock Bay, get Dave to take you to the sunset dunes.’

  ‘Sightseeing and visiting the dunes will be low on the agenda.’ Sami turned and headed to the stairway to the apartment.

  ‘Pity,’ said Tim, but Sami didn’t hear him. He kept walking, thinking that Lily must have had a hard time rearing Sami if she’d always been so prickly. She was attractive, although she didn’t seem to know it.

  The following morning Sami answered the phone while her mother was out.

  ‘Samantha? Guess who?’

  ‘I hate people who do this. I have a fair idea.’

  ‘Here’s a clue.’ A burst of bagpipes roared down the phone.

  ‘I knew it was you, Palmer. Where are you?’

  ‘Encamped in the dunes with my friend Farouz.’

  ‘The camel man?’

  ‘That’s the one. Camels love bagpipes. People in hotel rooms and caravan parks don’t.’

  ‘Get out. What a surprise. How come you know Farouz?’

  ‘It’s a long story that weaves through ancient bazaars of Afghanistan, to the deserts of Australia and here to the lonely dunes of Broome.’

  ‘Very poetic. When did you get in and when can I see you?’ Sami asked. ‘There’s lots to talk about. Are Bridget and Goonamulli here too?’

  ‘No. Bridget is at uni in Perth. Goonamulli is in Derby – sensibly planning a fishing trip. I was contemplating the same. I like fishing.’

  ‘In Derby?’

  ‘No, here. Have you found the best barra spots yet?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. Palmer, I can’t wait to see you. I have to go down to the Historical Society and return some cuttings.’

  ‘Great. See you there.’

  Val, who usually ran the museum, had the morning off and Sami was welcomed by a cheerful volunteer who introduced herself as Bette.

  ‘Ah, I met your husband Kevin yesterday morning at Town Beach. He said you’d been travelling around Australia and now you’ve come to a stop.’

  ‘We came for the winter and we can’t imagine leaving. Now, you must be Sami, I briefly met your mother at the Bradley Cup.’

  ‘My mother does get around. How do you know me?’

  ‘Your friend described you – pretty, tall, brown eyes, fair hair and a lovely smile. I couldn’t miss you.’

  ‘Oh, that was nice of him. Where is Dr Palmer?’

  ‘Browsing. You’ll find him in the display room, I think.’ />
  Thanking Bette, Sami strolled through the overflowing museum that was now familiar to her. While Jean at the library allowed her to use her computer and work in a back office, Sami, like her mother, was drawn to the little museum run by the Historical Society. Some of the original diaries and papers written by missionaries and early settlers about Aboriginal art, held in the collection, were of particular relevance to her research. She noticed Mika, reading her way through old newspapers. ‘Hi again. Have you recovered from last night?’

  Mika glanced down at her clean blouse. ‘Everything is okay. It was a nice evening. Thank you for including me.’

  ‘Any time, I’m sure we’ll keep bumping into each other if you’re here for a month or so. Happy reading.’

  Palmer greeted Sami with a quick hug. ‘So, girl. How are you finding the city lights?’

  ‘Occasionally bright. Not as bright as the stars over the Kimberley desert.’

  ‘We’ll get out there again, no worries. Now where do we go for decent tea? No yuppie dandelion stuff.’

  ‘With the right connections you can get it here. The courtyard is perfect for a relaxed chat. There’s not much traffic and only a few people.’

  As it turned out, Palmer later reflected, it was a quiet spot but for the next half hour Sami was far from relaxed. She barely touched her cup of tea as she talked to Palmer, filling him in on her reactions to Broome, meeting the family, social events and struggles with her thesis. He listened attentively, dropping his usual banter, sensing she needed to release all her pent-up feelings. Finally he pointed at her cup. ‘Let’s have a refill. It seems to me you’ve had quite an eventful time. No wonder you’re feeling distracted when it comes to work. Let’s take your hassles one at a time. What’s the biggest issue concerning you?’

  ‘This pearl farm idea of my mother’s. Can you imagine it? She’s over fifty. She’s had a career running a medical lab in Sydney and now, suddenly, she wants to throw her life savings in with some smart arse who says he’s going to find investors, in a rundown pearl farm in possibly one of the most remote places in Australia!’