Blackbird

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Blackbird Page 12

by David Crookes


  Charles eagerness to embark on the plan clearly heartened Moser.

  `Charles, I don't recall hearing you speak so passionately about anything we have ever done before. I'm so glad we are both of the same mind on this matter.' Moser leaned back in his chair. `Now, our agent in London has already secured an option on two suitable vessels which are presently under construction on the Clyde in Scotland. However, because of the size of the loan accommodation we need, the bank has told me they will require a mortgage over the entire assets of the company as security. I have spoken with our solicitors, and Ewart Fagel has advised me that under the company share structure any such mortgage will have to be signed by Catherine as well as Mrs Stonehouse.'

  Silas Moser rubbed his jaw thoughtfully for a few moments then continued. `I have already discussed the proposal at some length with Mrs Stonehouse and she has agreed to sign. I thought perhaps I could leave it to you to obtain Catherine's consent.'

  `A general charge by way of mortgage is normal procedure for loan security of this size Mr Moser. I'll be happy to explain that to Catherine.'

  Moser stood up. `Very well Charles, I appreciate that. Now after the mortgage is signed and the vessels are nearing completion, it will be necessary for you to journey to London, and to the Clyde, to finalize the settlement of the ships, and also to engage masters for the delivery of the vessels to Queensland.'

  `Very well Mr Moser.' As Charles got up to leave Moser said: `Oh Charles, I think the time has come to forego the formality between us. In future please call me Silas.' *

  Charles swung his stylish carriage into the driveway of the Stonehouse mansion. During the two years he had been married to Catherine, Charles had been careful to avoid, as far as he could, assuming any of the advantages which resulted from living at Castlecraig.

  He had retained the small house at Highgate Hill, not so much as an investment as he had told Catherine, but as a small symbol to reflect, to himself if no one else, some degree of personal financial independence. And it had only been on Catherine's insistence that he reluctantly bought the fine carriage, a Phaeton, which was far more elegant than anything he really required for transportation to and from South Brisbane. Charles always drove the Phaeton himself and made sure it was always drawn by a horse, which like the carriage, he had bought with his own funds.

  He usually arrived home from the office just before seven each evening, which allowed him half an hour to bathe and dress for dinner. This evening he arrived a little earlier hoping to discuss the mortgage with Catherine before dinner. A stable boy took charge of the carriage at the front of the house and Jenkins the man-servant was at the door as always to greet him.

  `Where is Mrs Worthington-Jones?' Charles asked as Jenkins took his hat and coat.

  `Madam is attending a meeting of the ladies auxiliary of the Opera House Committee at the Town Hall, sir. She left with members of the Arts Council, she said it was unlikely she would return home before dinner.'

  Charles sighed. So Catherine had found yet another ladies committee on which to serve. With the opening of the new Brisbane Opera House still several months away, she was already weaving one more thread into her intricate tapestry of high profile social involvement. `Then I'll be dining alone again I take it.' Charles muttered as he strode briskly across the hall to the drawing room. He went directly to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a large sherry.

  `May I have a small glass too Charles?'

  Startled, Charles turned around quickly to find Clare Stonehouse sitting on the edge of a divan near the window. Her pale face appeared ever more colorless than usual.

  `Oh, of course Mother, I'm sorry I didn't see you there. Please forgive me.'チ

  Clare's presence downstairs after sundown was rare. She still spent a good deal of every day in her flower gardens, but since the death of her husband, she had chosen to forsake the evening formality of the dining room in favor of taking a light meal in her room.

  Charles handed her a small sherry, then stood with his back to the window and raised his glass.

  `To your good health, Mother.'チ

  Clare smiled briefly. `Charles, I'm glad you're home early this evening and we have this chance to talk alone. Now, as you know I never involve myself with business matters, but something has arisen which Alexander didn't foresee. The solicitors tell me if Silas is to go ahead with the purchase of new ships, it is necessary for me to approve a mortgage over the company's assets.'

  `A great deal of capital is involved Mother. The mortgage the bank has asked for is quite a normal requirement for security of such a large loan.'

  `I understand that Charles, and I have already told Silas I will sign the necessary papers. It is for the good of the company, and I know it is what Alexander would want. But are you aware it is also necessary for Catherine to sign the documents as beneficiary of shares held in trust for her.'

  `Yes, I have already told Silas that I will speak to Catherine on the matter tonight.'

  Clare set her glass down on a side table and clasped her hands together tightly in her lap. `I spoke with her earlier this afternoon Charles, and she has refused to sign the documents unless Silas stands down and relinquishes his position to you.'

  Charles' face showed his astonishment. `I beg your pardon Mother,' he said quickly, as if somehow he hadチheard her incorrectly.

  `You know nothing about this Charles?'

  `Absolutely nothing.'

  `I hope for your sake you are telling the truth young man. As you know, my husband provided for Silas to run the Stonehouse Shipping Company for the foreseeable future, providing he always continued to increase profits satisfactorily. So far Silas has more than kept his end of the bargain, and I intend to see Alexander's wishes are fulfilled. If you think you can come into my husband's house and scheme with Catherine to steal his business, then you are sadly mistaken.'

  Charles felt his face flush. `I have no intention of stealing anyone's business,' he snapped angrily. `And furthermore, I would have preferred to remain in my own house at Highgate hill after Catherine and I were married. But she insisted we live here. She said it would be unkind to leave you in this big house all alone.'

  Clare laughed out loud. `Unkind to whom? Surely Charles, you realize my daughter has never done anything in her entire life which was not in her own interests. Do you really think she would have lived for one minute in that little hovel of yours?' Clare gestured around her. `Do you think she would leave all this behind, so she could hold her garden-parties for her society friends up there in the mud on Highgate Hill?'

  Charles stared out into the darkness beyond the window. `I know the importance Catherine places on social position and material wealth,' he said softly. `And I know now what so many people knew from the start, that for Catherine, our marriage was just a necessary happening in her scheme of things. Rightly or wrongly I still love her, in spite of her selfishness, as I'm sure you do too. But you must believe me when I say that I would never, ever, agree to accepting Silas Moser's position in such distasteful circumstances.'

  Charles felt Clare's hand on his shoulder.

  `You are a good man Charles,' she said. 'It must be so hard for you, trying to maintain a balance between the ambitions of two people like Silas and Catherine. Silas, who has always put his ruthless ambitions before all else, and Catherine, consumed by her own selfishness and greed, gadding about at all hours with her mindless social-climbing when she should be at home making babies. No Charles, she doesn't deserve you. She didn't deserve a father like Alexander either. Tell me, why is it that otherwise such strong men can be so weak in the hands of a woman like Catherine?'Jenkins coughed discreetly at the door of the drawingroom and announced that dinner was ready to be served.

  Clare took Charles by the arm and said, `Thank you Jenkins. Please tell cook not to send a tray up to my room. I shall be dining with Mr Charles this evening.'

  It was just after nine o'clock and Clare had long since gone upstairs to her room when Cath
erine's carriagereturned to Castlecraig. Charles was still sitting at the dining table, drinking the last of a full decanter of port when she came into the room. He looked up at her, red eyed, saying nothing.

  She crossed the room and stood beside him.

  `Good Lord Charles. How much have you had to drink?'

  `Nowhere near enough to stab Silas Moser in the back Catherine.'

  She flinched. `I take it you've been talking to Mother.'

  `Yes, and I won't do it Catherine.'

  `Don't be stupid Charles. This may be our only chance.'

  `Don't you mean your only chance?'チ

  `No, it's for both of us.' She took his hand from his lap, lifted it, and slowly rubbed his open palm over her breasts. `And for our children.'

  He hadn't touched her like this in a long time. For months she had found some excuse not to make love, to deny him any chance of a pregnancy she knew he wanted, but one he knew she was determined to avoid at all costs.

  He looked up into her face. She smiled. Now she was seducing him to get her way. He was determined not to let it happen. She pulled him to his feet and pressed her body hard against his. Immediately his body betrayed him, responding urgently to the closeness of her, just as she had known it would. He saw the satisfaction on her face and loathed her for it.

  `Come to bed now Charles.'

  `I won't do it Catherine. Please don't ask me to. I will not take away a man's life's work in this way, even Silas Moser's. At least not now.'

  She drew away from him. `Then don't Charles. But until you do there will be no new ships, no children and no wife in your bed.'

  *

  The next morning Silas Moser spoke with Charles for less than five minutes before summoning his driver. He arrived at Castlecraig just before ten o'clock. He waited, grey-faced and somber, in the drawing-room while Jenkins went in search of Clare Stonehouse in the grounds.

  `Good morning,' Moser said brusquely when Clare came in from her flower-garden, still wearing the apron and huge sun-hat she always wore when tending her plants. `Charles tells me Catherine won't sign the mortgage.'

  `Did he tell you why Silas?'

  `Yes he did. Poor Charles, it's all so very difficult, especially for him. I thought perhaps if I spoke with Catherine alone we may be able to resolve the matter. Perhaps in the summerhouse in your flower-garden?

  Clare shook her head slowly. `I doubt she will listen to anything you have to say Silas.' She rang a small bell and when Jenkins appeared at the door a moment later she said: `Jenkins... please tell Miss Catherine that Mr Moser would like to speak to her privately in the summerhouse.'

  Moser stood outside the little white circular summer-house for almost fifteen minutes before Catherine came down from the house.

  `Mother tells me you wish to discuss the matter of the mortgage Mr Moser,' she said without enthusiasm. `Really, if my terms are not met, there is absolutely nothing to be discussed. Now if you will excuse me I really must prepare for an important ladies fund raising luncheon I am hosting here today.'

  Catherine turned and started walking back to the house.Moser could barely contain his rage, but his voice was calm when he called out after her. `Oh really Miss Catherine, and which deserving charity is to benefit from your selfless good work today?'

  `Orphans and abandoned children if you must know,' she replied without looking back.

  `Then perhaps you and your ladies can find it in your hearts to make a donation to your little brother.'

  Catherine stopped in her tracks and spun around. `What did you say?'

  `I said perhaps you and your ladies may care to make a donation to your brother. That is assuming no one has any objections to helping niggers.'

  Catherine stood open mouthed and speechless, frozen to the spot.

  `But I suppose, Miss Catherine,' Moser continued, `it would hardly serve to advance you in the colony's social circles if it came to light that your brother was conceived in a brothel, and born to a black your father had purchased solely for his own personal sport. The child and his mother now live with a half-breed Chinese at a brickyard beside the Brisbane River. If you don't believe me, then take a look at the boy yourself. His resemblance to Alexander is really quite astonishing.'

  Catherine stood stunned, outraged, still unable to speak.

  Moser reached down and picked up a blade of grass. He studied it intently for a few moments, allowing Catherine time to come to grips with what he had said.

  `Of course perhaps it may be better if you signed the mortgage Miss Catherine and no one need know about your little brother. After all, I am the only one who knows he exists, and you know your secret would be perfectly safe with me.'

  Catherine found her voice at last. `Even if what you say is true,' she hissed, `you wouldn't do such a thing to my mother.'

  `I certainly wouldn't, Miss Catherine, but under the circumstances, surely you must realize that whether your mother knows about the child or not is entirely up to you.'

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Jack Stark never left Jarrah. Despite the fire and the loss of Ho Lim, the brickyard flourished. And as soon as the amiable and competent contractor had rebuilt the buildings destroyed in the fire, Ben had him start on an expansion of the yard which never seemed to end.

  As the land and building boom continued, so did the demand for bricks. But somehow the yard managed to keep up with the steadily increasing flow of orders, and Ben even pressed Jack Stark's barge into service to help deliver bricks to waiting customers all up and down the river.

  Ben came to rely so much on the workmanlike and utterly dependable Jack Stark, that he urged him to live up contracting and become his yard overseer. At first Jack declined the offer, but Ben persisted, and eventually the stocky white-haired bachelor agreed to accept the position.

  With Jack's acceptance came the requirement for yet another building—a comfortable home for the new overseer. Still always nagged by the recurring worry of another attack on the yard, Ben directed Jack's house be built in a position which provided a clear view in each direction of the comings and goings on the river.

  By now the yard employed over sixty workers. Most were British immigrants, all well experienced in the trade and willing to work hard. They were supported by a number of Chinese laborers who diligently performed the more menial tasks including the loading and unloading of bricks from Jack Stark's barge.

  Each morning as the brickyard came alive, Ben would walk down from the house and have a word with Jack, then continue on to make his rounds of the yard. More often than not he would be accompanied by Sky, who was now almost three years old. Sky would strut along a few paces behind Ben, and to the amusement of everyone, would try to imitate Ben's every move and mannerism.

  Sky was blessed with the irrepressible cheerful disposition of all South-Sea Islanders and a gleeful, mischievous smile was never more than a fraction of a second away.His skin was like his mother's, golden brown but more than just a shade lighter, and he also shared her striking good looks. But startling grey-blue eyes, a strong jaw, and a reddish tinge to his full head of brown hair left no doubt of the presence of European blood.

  *

  Jack Stark awoke to a clear crisp Sunday morning. Like every Sunday, he fixed himself a hasty breakfast, grabbed his fishing pole and walked down from his house to fish in the river.

  And as always, no sooner had he started to dig for worms, when he saw Sky wave to him from up at the big house. A few minutes later Ben and Sky headed down to the river to join him. Soon they were all sitting side by side on the jetty with fishing lines hanging down into the water.

  An hour later there was real warmth in the winter sun and seven good sized flathead in the bucket. It was just as they were preparing to reel in the lines for the last time when they saw a small paddle-wheeler round the bend in the river, travelling upstream from Brisbane.

  Soon the little boat turned her bow toward the jetty and a boatman appeared on the foredeck. Ben held the fishing
poles while Jack prepared to receive a mooring line. When the paddle-wheeler was alongside, the crewman on the bow inquired about any possible hazards to navigation the vessel may encounter if she were to continue further upstream.

  Sky clung to Ben's leg as Jack shared his considerable knowledge of the river with the visitor. As they spoke, an attractive well-dressed young woman appeared on the deck. She seemed to be the only passenger aboard and she walked briskly down the side of the boat towards them.

  She had long red hair and wore a wide-brimmed sun-hat. Soon she was so close to them that Ben could smell the poignant fragrance of her perfume. Then she stopped, and for a moment her pale green eyes anxiously appraised Sky. Then almost immediately she turned away, ashen faced, and hurried back along the deck to the cabin door and disappeared inside without a backward glance.

  A minute later they all stood and watched the paddle-wheeler pull away from the jetty under a cloud of thick black smoke which belched from her tiny funnel. Ben lifted Sky up onto his shoulders to carry him back up to the house.

  Ben was half way up the paddock and Sky was already fast asleep in his arms when he noticed the paddle- wheeler turn back in the direction of Brisbane. Evidently her skipper had decided against continuing upstream.

  * No-one really knew how Silas Moser persuaded Catherine to sign the documents which allowed his expansion plans for Stonehouse's to go ahead. Everyone was just glad that somehow he had been able to.

  Moser telegraphed the company's agent in London without delay, with instructions to exercise the options held on the two refrigerated vessels being built on the Clyde. He also advised that Mr Charles Worthington-Jones would be in Scotland early in the northern spring to take formal delivery of the new ships on behalf of Stonehouse's.

 

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