Pearls

by Colin Falconer

  'Have you seen the Elizabeth?'

  Cameron squinted across the bay where the Niland company schooner rode at anchor. 'Aye, she's a fine ship.'

  'We need a new master for her. I suggested to my father that you were the ideal man. The pay's good and the company always looks after its people. What do you say?'

  Cameron shook his head. 'Thanks for the offer, George. But I want to be my own man.'

  'I admire your sense of independence, Cam. But everyone comes here thinking they're going to make a fortune out there ....' he nodded his head in the direction of the pearling grounds beyond Gantheaume Point. '... but you're more likely to lose everything. You have to be a good businessman to survive here, not an adventurer.'

  'Aye well, it's a risk I'm prepared to take.' Cam patted the horse's flank. 'Thanks again though.'

  'If you change your mind ...'

  'I never change my mind, George. You know that.'

  George shrugged. 'Well, be careful, Cam. It's a hard business.'

  He jerked the reins and the sulky clattered away down the red dirt road towards Streeter's jetty.

  ***

  George did not go directly to the Niland & Company offices. He stopped first at the office of T.J.Ellies, Broome's foremost pearl cleaner. All pearls had tiny blemishes or indentations that spoiled their value; Tom Ellies had a special talent for cleaning the outer skins of a pearl, like peeling the layers of an onion, until it was smooth and perfect. It required an exceptional, almost psychic, skill for one mistake could cost hundreds, even thousands, of pounds.

  When he arrived Flynn was already there.

  'You're late,' Flynn snapped.

  'My apologies,' George said easily. He reached into his waistcoat pocket and produced a small velvet-lined box. He gave it to Ellies, who opened it and took out the pearl with elaborate care. 'A fine stone,' he murmured.

  'We've called it the Queen of the North,' George said. 'By the way, we'd prefer to keep the news of our find just between ourselves. It's worth a little extra. Do you understand?'

  Ellies sighed. He understood perfectly.

  ***

  The Southern Cross had wheeled through the sky so that it hung almost directly above the tin roof. There were low murmurs of thunder in the distance, flashes of sheet lightning on the rim of the ocean. The Wet was close.

  Cam rolled a cigarette and lit it. He told her about his childhood growing up in a tenement in Edinburgh, the second oldest of eight brothers and sisters. 'I remember Friday night was a big treat. My ma used to buy my da' a piece of haddock and she'd give us each a cup of the water she cooked it in and some bread to dip in it. Never owned a pair of shoes till I was twelve. Summer and winter it was all the same.'

  'Did your father not work?'

  'Aye he worked at the shipyard but everything he earned he gambled or drank away.'

  'It sounds like a hard life.'

  'Aye, it was. It is. My brothers are still there, they work in the shipyards like my da'. Or like he used to before the whisky got to him.'

  'But not you.'

  'Not me. I was always good at figuring numbers and such, and my ma hoped I'd get a job in the office at the shipyard. That was the height of her ambitions for me. Then one night when I was twelve years old she sent me down the road to fetch my da' home for his tea. And I went in the bar and there was this sailor, not crew on the coal steamers, a proper skipper, skin like mahogany and he was talking about places he'd been, and everyone in there was hanging on every word. Imagine a cold Tuesday night in Glasgow and here he is going on about white beaches and brown skinned women and pearls as big as bottles toppers. And I stood there listening to him and I thought: that's what I'm about. I'm going to get out of this dirty town and find the sun and find my fortune.'

  He stopped and drew on his cigarette, suddenly shy of talking so much.

  'So you come to Broome.'

  'Oh, there were some detours along the way. I joined the Royal Navy as a rating, sailed around the world a time or two, then I heard of these trials they were doing in the lochs back home, sending men underwater in diving suits. I volunteered.'

  'Why would you do that now?'

  'The pay was good.'

  'You've courage, Mister McKenzie.'

  'He laughed easily. 'A man's nothing without it.'

  'Do you ever hear from your family?'

  'My ma writes every month. All the news.'

  'You miss them?'

  'Aye but I can't go back. I have it in my mind to be a man of means some day. And I shall. I'll find my pearl and I shall have fine suits and a house like this one and perhaps even a motor car. I shall not have any man look down on me again.'

  'Again?'

  'Once you're poor Kate you never forget it. It rusts into your soul.'

  She reached out and traced the line of a scar on his right forearm, among the dark hairs. 'Where did you get that?'

  'A knife fight in Manila,' and then he saw her expression and laughed.

  'What's funny?'

  'Your face. I was just teasing you. There was no fight. A ship's cat did it.' He laughed and ruffled her hair. It was a gesture of such easy-going familiarity that it shocked her. No one had ever ruffled her hair before.

  'And what of you? Do you nae have brothers and sisters?'

  'I had two brothers. They were older than me.'

  What happened?'

  'Jack, he was the eldest, he drowned when I was 12, off cable Beach. Then a couple of years ago Will died of blood poisoning.'

  He touched her hand lightly. 'I'm sorry.'

  'Life goes on,' she said as her father always said just before he reached for the gin bottle.

  'What about your ma?'

  'She died when I was a boy. I never knew her.'

  'Everyone who loves you, leave you.'

  It was what she had thought for years and never had the temerity to say out loud. What an extraordinary man. 'You still think my father stole your pearl from you?'

  The silence dragged. Finally: 'He's your father Kate so I would nae expect you to hear a word against him. But yes, he stole my pearl. There's nothing surer.'

  'And do you plan to get even with him? Because if you do you should take yourself off my veranda right now.'

  'You're a spirited girl Kate.'

  'I mean what I say.'

  He sighed. 'You're worth more than any pearl.' His fingers traced the contours of her wrist and the fold of her arm. It send a shiver right through her. He leaned forward and she realised with panic that he was about to kiss her. She turned away.

  'I'm sorry,' he said.

  Why had she done that? She wanted him to kiss her. It scared her, this. She had waited so long to find a man she liked and now he was right here next to her, it terrified her. 'Why are you here? Mister McKenzie?'

  'I told you, you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in my whole life. The first time I saw you, you set my heart racing and it's been doing double time ever since.'

  'Were you about to kiss me just then?'

  'I was.'

  'Then would you mind trying again. Perhaps you'll have better luck this time.'

  As their lips touched she heard cursing form the street and the crunch of boots on the shell grit path. Flynn was home.

  'Damn!' She jumped to her feet and smoothed down her skirts. 'Go!' she said to him.

  Cam kissed her again, hard on the lips, then melted into the shadows of the garden. She touched her fingers to her lips. My God. Flynn and his rotten timing.

  ***

  The dinner had been a stately affair. The tablecloth and napkins were Irish linen, the napkins themselves rolled in carved ivory rings; the tableware was Wedgwood and the cutlery sterling silver. They were served turtle soup, barramundi with saffron rice, and fresh mangos for desert. There was champagne in fluted crystal glasses with every course and afterwards coffee and crème de menthe. Kate could see her father was impressed, even as he marked out his territory on the table with soup and sa
ffron stains.

  For their part the Nilands had ignored Flynn's more eccentric behaviour - such as the sound effects that accompanied his enjoyment of the soup course - but she knew from the suffering glances that passed between Henry Niland and his wife, Elizabeth, that they were participating in this social occasion under sufferance.

  Flynn released a thunderous belch, but at least had the manners to hold his soiled napkin over his mouth as he did so. Her own refinement had been instilled by the nuns at a Perth convent school; Mother Superior would have had you for breakfast, she thought, watching her father lick his fingers.

  'That was a damned good feed,' Flynn said, and then, bowing his head in Elizabeth Niland's direction, 'begging your pardon, ma'am.'

  George turned to Kate. 'I think I'll step out onto the veranda and have a cigarette. Would you care to join me, my dear?'

  Kate hated being referred to as 'my dear', but she smiled and said: 'That would be most pleasant,' as she was supposed to do, and followed George outside. Henry and Elizabeth looked aghast at being abandoned to Flynn, who had already launched into a long and convoluted tale about his early days on a trans-Atlantic ketch, the punch line to which Kate knew was not repeatable in mixed company.

  George stood under the gas light. A small ruby gleamed in his tie pin. He was wearing a charcoal grey Saville Row double breasted suit. A gecko watched him from the rafters.

  He seemed nervous. His fingers were trembling as he lit his cigarette.

  'Did you enjoy your dinner, my dear?'

  'Do stop calling me 'my dear',' she said. 'I hate it.'

  George flushed with embarrassment. 'I'm sorry. It's just ... that well ... I've grown very fond of you.'

  'Then I wish you would find some other way of showing your affection.' As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them.

  'Do you really mean that?'

  She took a deep breath. 'Look. George ...'

  'No, please, let me finish. We've known each other for a long time and ... you must know how I feel. I was wondering if ... well, as I said, I have grown very ... that is, I would like ...''

  Kate had been expecting this; she had just not expected him to look so forlorn as he made his proposal. 'Are you asking me to marry you, George?'

  'Well ... yes. My father will be retiring soon and I will have sole control of ...'

  'No.'

  ' ... of Niland and Company here in Broome and ...' He stared at her. 'What?'

  'Thank you, George. You do me a great honour in asking me. But I must refuse.'

  'No?'

  'I don't love you, George.'

  George put his hands on his hips. For a long time the only sound was the hissing of the gas lamp. 'How dare you,' he said, finally.

  'George?'

  'I am the most eligible bachelor in Broome. How dare you refuse me.'

  Kate stared at him, astonished.

  'When my father retires I will be the most important man in Broome. I can give you anything you want.'

  'Except love.'

  'But I do love you!'

  'But I don't love you.'

  George threw his cigarette into the garden in an uncharacteristic display of petulance. 'You ungrateful little ... ' He turned away, thrusting his fists deep into the pockets of his trousers.

  Kate gave a small shrug and went back into the dining room where Flynn was regaling Henry and Elizabeth with the story of how he had once eaten a live cockroach for a bet. She supposed they would both be thankful they need never have her father's knees under their dinner table again.

  ***

  'You ... you ... you refused him?' Flynn was almost speechless with fury. The polished jarrah floorboards shook as he stalked the living room of their bungalow. 'But he's the most eligible man in Broome!'

  'Yes, that's what he said.'

  'Then why did you turn him down for God's sake? I had to endure four hours of Henry Niland droning on about his dreary book-keeping methods! Why in God's name did you say no?'

  'Because I don't love him.'

  A vein in Flynn's temple formed itself into a hard, bulging knot. 'What's that got to do with anything? Marrying George Niland would assure a future for both of us! I'd become a partner in one of the biggest pearling companies in Australia and you'd be the wife of the man who owned it! What more do you want, you stupid girl?'

  'There's more to life than money,' Kate said. She turned on her heel and went into her bedroom, slamming the door.

  'No there isn't!' Flynn screamed after her. Then he took off his shoe and threw it.

  Chapter 9

  Her secret life.

  He came every night, an hour after dark. If her father was home - and that was rare enough these days - she would not come out. If Flynn wondered why she no longer berated him for spending every night at the Bosun's Regret he never said.

  She would see the glow of his cigarette in the darkened garden from her bedroom window as he waited for a while and then left. But most other nights they talked in low whispers on the darkness, the smell of tobacco on his shirt and frangipani in the air. She could talk to him about anything, the way she had never talked to anyone in her life.

  He had seen worlds she longed to know about - Glasgow London Inverness Singapore Hong Kong and Manila. She loved to listen to him; it didn't matter what he said. She loved the rich music of his voice and his accented brogue.

  He brought the world alive for her, from the cold dark lochs to the green and shadowy deeps of the Lascepedes. Listening to him, she could almost feel the scratchy wool of the jumpers they wore under their diving suits, the drag of lead boots on her feet, the hiss of bubbles in the helmet valves. She was in awe of his courage.

  She once asked him if he ever felt afraid. 'Afraid? Aye but a man cannae afford to feel afraid.'

  'But isn't everyone afraid of something?'

  'What are you afraid of, lass?'

  'I'm afraid of being trapped in a marriage with a man I don't love. I'm afraid that if I love someone I'll lose them.'

  He rolled a cigarette one handed. A match flared for a moment in the dark. 'That's always the risk with loving. Loving too much and not loving enough. It's a fine piece of balance and it seems to me not many manage it.'

  'It seems that way.'

  'So you want to love and be loved back. It does nae seem much to ask of life, does it?'

  'I've not known many who have done it. What about you Cam?'

  'You know what I want.'

  'A pearl.'

  'And the respect it will bring me.'

  'Is that why you risk your neck up here in the middle of nowhere?'

  'Kate, I was born in a slum. My father cannae read nor write. I know what I was meant for and I will nae have it. I know I was born for better things and I mean to have them but not because I'm in love with money. I want ...'

  'Want what?'

  'To be as good as anyone else.'

  'But you are.'

  'Aye? Tell that to George Niland and the like.'

  'Is there place for a woman in this picture?'

  'A woman like you, Kate? Flynn would call the police if he knew I was even talking to you.'

  'Well you did break his nose. Not that he hasn't had it broken before. But you could bury the past if you wanted.'

  'Why would I do that?'

  'For my sake.'

  She wondered if he was telling the truth about the pearl. She loved Flynn but she imagined it was the kind of thing he might do. But he was her father and just talking to Cameron was disloyal.

  'Aye. For your sake I well might.'

  'He's my father, Cam. Right or wrong, he's all I have.'

  'Aye, I understand.'

  'Do you miss your family, Cam?'

  'My brothers, especially Lachie and Douglas. They were a wee bit older and always looked out for me. And my Ma. She was a good woman, God knows she'd have to be to put up with my da'.'

  'You're the only one of hers that left.'

  'Aye I am
.'

  'She must worry.'

  'Aye, she does. I am her blue eyed boy, right enough, even though my eyes are nae blue. I think a part of hers proud, the other half wishes I could be more like my two younger brothers and work in the shipyard offices. My da' calls them girls on account of they can read and add up without using their fingers. But you have to be true to yourself, Kate. You have to know your own character and not try to be someone else.'

  'Well, yes. I suppose that's true.'

  'Have you nae thought about that?'

  'My father says I'm stubborn and wilful. I always thought it was a bad thing.'

  'There's a fine line between stubborn and determined. I can be pretty stubborn myself.'

  'Did your father try and talk you out of the Navy then?'

  'He dinnae care what I did as long as I was nae burden to him. My ma dinnae want me to do it. You have to understand, Kate, there's nae tradition of seafaring in the McKenzies. My great-grandfather was a sharecropper. She wanted me to work in the offices that was like being a toff to her. But me, I've no head for figures. Two things I could do well as a kid, that's fight and read.'

  'You read?'

  'Still have a dog eared copy of 'Treasure Island' in my kit bag. So sixteen I applied for the Royal Navy cadets and I was away to sea and I've nae been back since. Nae to live anyway.'

  'What about your sisters?'

  'My little sister Beth took it hardest. You can't go to sea, she said, it's full of water! God bless her. She'll be grown by now, have boys chasing after her I shouldn't wonder.'

  'It's a long way from Glasgow to Broome.'

  'Aye, it is. But there's money to be made her, lass, if a man's got the belly for it. More than I'd make in a year in the shipyards. I promised my ma that when I went home I'd bring her a string of pearls and I intend to keep my word.'

  'And is there any other woman back home pining for you back home?'

  'Who'd have me?'

  She tilted her head to the side. 'Well, that's the question, isn't it? Are you wondering if I will?'

  'Maybe.'

  'Well you've sat on my back porch six nights in a row. A girl has to think a man might be interested. Or is it just a girl in every port for you?'