Pearls (9 page)

He was sunk in self recrimination. On the trip down to Perth he had passed the time playing poker with George Niland and had lost heavily, then lost another two hundred pounds at a two up school in Fremantle. Another hundred had done on a whore he found by the docks; she wasn't worth more than half a crown but when he woke in the morning both the girl and his wallet were gone.

And George was still playing shy on the partnership. 'You keep your end of the bargain, old boy,' he had told him, 'and I'll keep mine.'

Kathleen! Now how in the name of all that was holy could he persuade the damned girl that was good for him was good for her, too? If she did not want to marry the son of the richest, most powerful man in all of Broome, who would she marry?

'Christ, if the Prince of Wales himself walked in and asked for her hand, she'd ask for time to think about it,' he muttered to himself, and dropped some more coins in the barmaid's jar to get her attention.

He ordered another gin.

Flynn looked up as Cameron walked into the bar. Jesus Christ and all the Blesséd Saints. More trouble.

'Well, Patrick Flynn. Look what the cat dragged in.'

Flynn straightened. 'What can I do for you now, Mister McKenzie?'

'I see your nose has mended. Not too well, I'd say. It's about as crooked as you are.'

It had fallen silent and everyone in the bar was watching.

'Well what if I did take your damned pearl,' he said.

'You admit it then?'

Flynn swayed on his feet. Damn him, the whole world was rotten, it was dog eat dog and devil take the hindmost. That was just the way things were. He leaned in close. 'You'll never see the like again. I'll buy ten China Clouds for that one pearl, you miserable Scottish bastard!'

Well that ought to do it, he thought. His hand curled around a bottle of square face on the bar. Come on, take a swing, he thought. Let's see how you go with this across your nose.

To his surprise Cameron turned and walked out of the bar.

Flynn came barrelling out of the door after him and threw himself at Cameron. They rolled over and over in the dirt, Flynn clawing and spitting like a feral cat. But drink had made him clumsy and slow and the younger man pushed him away and rolled easily back onto his feet. As Flynn charged again Cameron caught him on the point of his chin with a savage uppercut and Flynn hit the ground as if pole-axed.

The crowd followed them out of the Regret and stood on the veranda watching as the two men fought it out on Spring Moon Lane. Flynn raised his head form the dirt and jeered at Cameron as he went to walk away a second time. 'You're dirt, McKenzie, and you'll always be dirt. A grocer's son from a Scottish slum!'

'Well aye, maybe, but good enough to be the father of your grandson!'

Flynn stumbled back on his feet. Holy Mary, Mother of God, surely not. He was seized with panic. Christ, the whole town was there outside the Regret watching.

'Have you nae heard the happy news?'

'Not here,' Flynn said, desperately. 'For God's sake!'

'She's going to have a baby! My baby!'

Flynn reeled back as if someone had swung a sledgehammer into his chest. 'For God's sake, McKenzie, shut your damned mouth!'

'My baby,' Cameron went on. 'Ye have my pearl, and now ye have my blood as well. It seems too much bounty for any one man, doesn't it? Do you nae feel lucky, Mister Flynn?'

'You ... scum.' '

'Aye maybe.,' Cameron said, his breath sawing in his chest. 'But damn you, Flynn. Damn you for stealing my future!' He turned and walked away down the street.

Chapter 13

The blue and red flag with its huge white stars fluttered in the breeze at the Residency masthead as the first fleets raced each other for the honour of being first past Entrance Point. The gulls followed the luggers, screeching and swooping for any scraps for the taking.

Cameron was still on the beach, about to climb into his rowboat and head out to the
China Cloud
, still riding at anchor in the sparkling blue calm of Roebuck Bay.

A sulky pulled up on the road above the foreshore and a woman climbed out and waited by the running board. He recognised the familiar red hair under the bonnet.

He trudged back up the beach to the road.

'Kate,' he said.

'I heard what happened last night,' she said. 'I imagine by now the whole town has heard.'

'Let me explain ...'

Her face was perfectly composed. She came towards him with the dignity of a queen and slapped him once, very hard, across the face.

'Well, you've had your revenge on my father. Is that what this whole thing was about?'

'I did not mean what I said.'

'But you said it. In front of everyone. You disgraced me in front of everyone.'

'I'd had too much to drink. I didn't know any others were watching.'

'And what difference does that make?' She took a step towards him. 'I feel sorry for you, Cameron. I do not believe that you truly understand what you have done.'

'Did he tell you? About the pearl?'

'The pearl? No, he did not. Perhaps you were right, perhaps he did steal it.'

'He stole it all right. He admitted it to my face.'

There was a look in her eyes, sadness and pity rather than anger. 'Oh Cam, I would have loved you until my last breath and followed you to the very ends of the earth just to be with you. I would have given you my very last drop of blood. Was any pearl worth as much?'

She turned and allowed her Chinese servant to help her up into the sulky. She did not look back. a few moments later she was gone.

Chapter 14

The
China Cloud
beat back for another drift under jib and mainsail. They were on good shell, in less than ten fathoms of water. The afternoon passed to the monotonous
click-clack
of the air pump. Wes fed out the lifeline, while Assan, the Malay, tended the air hose. Curry-Curry was bent over the firepot next to the air pump, where two other Malays toiled under the canvas awning.

The new diver sent up another bag of shell from below, big grey oysters covered with green and brown seaweeds and ferns. The Koepangers set to work with their tomahawks, chipping away the coral and plants and tossing the shells into a pile in the middle of the deck.

Cameron took out his knife and began to cut open the shells. But after a while he threw his knife, point down, into the decking. He got up and went to the scuttle.

'You hokkay, skip?'

'I've nae mind to do the shell right now.'

'Mebbe only an hour to sunset, skip.'

'Aye, well, maybe tomorrow then. I'm away to my bed. I dinnae feel well.'

Wes frowned as Cameron disappeared down the scuttle to his cabin. The skip never left unopened shell on board overnight, too much of a temptation for the crew. But Cameron had not been himself since they left Broome.

It was that woman. Wes knew all about women. The big Jamaican had never had any trouble getting them; it was getting rid of them that was hard. During lay-up time Wes fell in love at least once a week.

But the skip had it bad. They had been at sea nearly three weeks and he had hardly spoken except to give orders to the crew. They were on good shell and had brought up nearly show three tonnes, but if he was pleased, he had not let his face or demeanour know about it. He had even gone off his food. Jay-sus!

Wes went back to his work. He would talk to him later.

They worked until the sun dipped below the horizon and Wes began to stage the diver. He didn't understand quite how it worked but the experience with Tanaka had show him that the skip's strange ritual must have some magic in it.

Cameron did not appear on deck for dinner, so Wes took two plates of curry and went down the scuttle to his cabin. Cameron was lying on his bunk, staring at nothing.

'I bring you some chow, skip.'

'I'm nae hungry.'

'Got to eat, skip. You is gettin' to look like a shadow, mebbe someone put
ju-ju
on you.'

'No,
ju-ju
, Wes. I'm my own bad luck.'

Wes put down the plates of stew and sat himself down on the end of the bunk. 'What is it, skip? That one white woman, I reckon.'

Cameron did not answer. He sat up, took a tin of cigarettes from his shirt and lit one. 'We're sailing back tae Broome, Wes. First light.'

'But skip, we got a month's stores in the hold. We on good shell hyar. Why we go back to port now?'

'I cannae sleep no more, Wes, I cannae think. I've unfinished business to attend in Broome and I'll nae rest until it's done.'

'I doan understand, skip.'

'I'm a bloody fool, Wes. I never thought of myself as a very good man, but I nae saw myself as a bad one, either. But I cannae stop thinking about what I've done.'

'What really happened that day between you and Flynn outside the Regret, skip?'

He sat up. 'I dinnae want to talk about it. I've a quick tongue and a foul temper and I've humiliated the only decent person in that whole stinking town.'

'What you plannin' to do, skip?'

'I plan to try and undo the harm I've done, Wes. I have to. I love the girl more than I've ever loved anything and that just makes me all the more the fool.' He ran his hand through his thick black curls. 'Christ!'

Wes scratched his head. 'I doan see you got no problem, then. You jes' say you is sorry, and you marry her.'

'Aye, maybe. But I dinnae know if that will be enough, Wes. Not now.'

'Sure, skip. If a woman love you, she forgive you anythin'. God make 'em that way, otherwise there be no man got no woman at all.'

'You dinnae know Kate Flynn.' He stood up. 'First light we sail, Wes. It will be the hardest thing I've ever done, but I have to get back there and undo this, Wes. I have to.'

Chapter 15

A horned moon. The night was chill, and the heady aromas of the garden were muted by the cooler weather and the long weeks without rain. Kate put a hand to her belly and closed her eyes. The fleets would still be away at sea when the baby came.

Flynn came out onto the veranda, looking solemn and drawn. 'He's here to see you now.'

He said it as if he was a priest informing a prisoner that the executioner was ready. She took a deep breath. 'Well, don't keep the gentleman waiting, father.'

George Niland looked resplendent in his whites. He took off his solar topee and gave a small bow. The victor could afford to be gracious.

Flynn excused himself and went back inside.

'Good evening, Kate,' George said. He lit a cigarette, without asking her permission.

'Hello George.'

'I hear you've not been well.'

'Morning sickness, George. Please let's not play games. You know very well I am shamed and in disgrace. I can handle that, but I will not be patronised.'

George shrugged. 'I see you've lost none of your spirit.'

'Losing my pride is enough, don't you think?'

'I should have warned you about him. Cameron has always been the same. Even in the Navy ...'

'I don't want to talk about it.'

George drew on his cigarette. he threw back his head and blew out the smoke in a long, silken stream. 'All right.'

'Father said you wanted to see me.'

'I think we have a lot to talk about, don't you?'

Kate crossed her arms and leaned back against the veranda posts. 'Well?'

'You're going to have Cameron McKenzie's baby.'

Kate found her eyes were brimming with tears. She fought them back. 'Everyone in town knows that by now.'

'What are you going to do?'

'What can I do? The outcome of Nature is inevitable. I cannot stop it now.'

'Your father says you are planning on leaving Broome.'

'He sees no other way.'

'And you?'

Kate left the question unanswered.

'What would you say if I told you that I still wanted to marry you?'

'I would say that you had probably had a little too much sun.'

George slipped into his prepared speech. 'I don't deny that when I first found out about ... about this ... that I was shocked. However, if you can promise me that you no longer love this man, that you have no intention of ever seeing him again, then I am prepared still to offer you marriage. I do not believe that one tragic error should cost someone their whole life. My mother and father stand against me on this, of course, but I believe they might yet be persuaded, once they see I am determined.' He paused and looked at her, thoughtfully. 'Of course, we would have to marry immediately. Well?'