The Forgotten Pearl (24 page)

Jack laughed, stroking the photo with his finger. ‘Well, if you weren't such a flirt, we would never have got into such a fix.'

‘Flirt?' exclaimed Poppy indignantly. ‘I was not a flirt!'

Jack tucked the photo back into his wallet. ‘No, but that Yank was certainly determined to buy you an ice cream! So I know Bryony was with the AWAS, but what about you? What have you been doing for the last three years?'

Poppy shrugged and smiled. ‘I did my Leaving Certificate last year and scored pretty well, especially in English,' said Poppy. ‘My headmistress wanted me to go on to university and get my degree. She said I would regret it my whole life if I didn't take the opportunity to go to uni.'

Jack nodded, encouraging her to continue.

‘But by that stage I was seventeen; I wanted to get out there and do something useful for the war.' Poppy smiled at Jack. ‘I was sick of knitting socks and hearing about everyone else being heroes. All the men, like you, were off fighting, and so the girls were encouraged to take over male jobs. I worked in an aeroplane factory out in the western suburbs of Sydney where we built components for Beaufort bombers – fuselages, undercarriages and stern frames. I was a riveter.'

Poppy pulled a wry face and laughed at herself. Jack grinned at Poppy in her sweaty men's clothes and tried to imagine her scrambling over a bomber fuselage with a riveting gun.

‘Actually, it wasn't heroic at all,' Poppy confessed. ‘It was deadly dull and repetitious shiftwork, day and night, twelve hours a day. I thought I'd go mad, my brain was so dead. The noise and heat were incredible and the work was tough and exhausting.'

‘Poor Poppy,' sympathised Jack. ‘I don't like to think of you working in some horrible factory.'

‘Of course, being females, we were being paid a lot less than the men doing the same job,' Poppy complained. ‘That really annoyed me, and it was made quite clear that as soon as the real workers came back from the war we women would no longer be required.'

Jack laughed at her contradictory emotions. ‘I thought you'd be glad to get out of there, Midget,' joked Jack. ‘It doesn't sound much fun.'

Poppy pursed her lips in thought and then laughed as well. ‘Well, some of it was enjoyable. I shared a flat with a couple of the other girls who worked there. While the work was ghastly, we did make up for it socialising and going out with some of the boys who worked there.'

‘Oh?' commented Jack, glancing away, his voice flat. ‘That does sound more amusing . . .'

Poppy gazed at his profile, his clenched jaw. What was wrong with Jack? Had she said something to upset him?

A glint of gold caught her eye, glimmering in the gnarled roots of the frangipani tree, half-buried in the soil. She stared at the object curiously, leaning over to examine it more closely.

‘Jack, look!' she shrieked with excitement and picked up the object with shaking hands. ‘It's my pearl! It's the pearl Mrs Murata gave me, the one I lost on the day Darwin was attacked.'

Poppy polished most of the dirt off with her fingers and held out the perfect silvery-golden teardrop hanging from a fine gold chain for Jack to admire.

‘An angel's forgotten tear,' Poppy explained softly. ‘Mrs Murata told me it was a magic jewel of good fortune that would keep me safe. A jewel of wisdom, wealth and healing. I thought it was lost forever.'

Jack leant in closer and stroked the shimmering pearl nestled in the palm of Poppy's hand. ‘Well, they are definitely good powers to have,' he agreed. ‘Would you like me to put it on you?'

‘Yes, please,' replied Poppy, handing it over. Jack took the pearl and carefully polished it on the hem of his shirt, removing the remaining dirt. He untangled the chain, letting the pearl dangle in the sunlight.

Poppy turned around and pulled her hair off her neck. Gently, Jack placed the chain around her neck and fastened the clasp. Poppy could feel his fingertips on the back of her neck and shivered.

Jack stood up. ‘Well, I suppose you should get back to massacring the grass. Would you like me to help?'

Jack offered his hand and pulled her to her feet.

‘That would be great, but come and say hello to the rest of the family first,' Poppy said. ‘Mum is making preparations for an amazing Christmas feast. She wants it to be the best Christmas ever.'

23

Christmas Feast

Christmas Day dawned, fair and bright. Edward and Mark set up a long trestle table that had been used at the barracks by the army, under the spreading branches of the mango tree. Seats were made from crates and petrol drums cut in half and padded with fabric, enough for all the family, friends and neighbours that Cecilia had invited.

Phoebe had made a tablecloth from a white sheet. Bryony and Poppy set the table with the best silver and crockery, dug up from under the house, and decorated it with frangipani blossoms. Edward set up Phoebe's record-player on the verandah with a stack of records that she had brought from Sydney.

‘It's sweltering in here,' complained Bryony, mopping the perspiration from her forehead. Cecilia opened the new oven to check on the roasting meat – a leg of pork with crackling and two chickens provided from the Shanahans' farm.

‘Mmmm. You won't mind the heat when we get to eat real roast pork and chicken,' Poppy reminded her. ‘I can't remember the last time I ate roast pork!'

Poppy and Bryony were chopping baby cucumbers and avocados for the salad. Honey was asleep under the table, her nose twitching at the wafting scents. Phoebe leant against the doorjamb, observing the action.

‘You could help, Phoebe,' complained Bryony, scraping the sliced greenery into a bowl.

‘I haven't cooked a meal in
years
,' Phoebe admitted. ‘The nurses always ate in the canteen, or went out for dinner. I wouldn't know where to start.'

‘You can start by peeling those potatoes,' Cecilia suggested, handing Phoebe a sharp knife. ‘It's nearly time for them to go into the oven.'

Soon the preparations were all completed and the girls disappeared to freshen up for lunch, touching up powder and lipstick, and tidying their hair. The Shanahans arrived along with the other friends and neighbours Cecilia had invited.

Everyone mingled in the garden under the shade trees, sipping on icy-cold lemonade or beer. Cecilia's Christmas present had been a new gas oven and refrigerator, bought at the army disposal auction, along with many other practical items to replace those stolen during the army occupation.

The girls fluttered like butterflies, wearing colourful floral sundresses, their hair soft and curled. The men sipped on beer, trading stories from their experiences during the war. Cecilia sat on a deckchair, chatting with old friends she hadn't seen for years. Phoebe and Edward kept a continuous stream of records playing.

‘The Red Cross was wonderful,' Edward explained. ‘They regularly sent in parcels of food, medicines and mail, but the Japanese would rarely let us have them. Well, one day the parcels included these massive seven-pound tins of Vegemite. The Japanese had no idea what it was, so they asked us. One of the fellows had the brilliant idea of telling them it was paint, because if they'd known it was food they would have kept it for themselves.

‘So the Japs set us to work painting the barracks with Vegemite,' continued Edward. ‘Little did they know we were licking it straight off the brush and making sure all the sick blokes in the hospital had plenty, too. I'm sure that Vegemite paint saved a few lives and kept us going for weeks. The guards were furious when they realised the trick we'd played on them – but by that stage the Vegemite had gone.'

Everyone laughed, then Jack's brother told a light-hearted tale of mateship, laughing in the face of danger and endless mud on the Kokoda Trail – and being looked after by the ‘fuzzy-wuzzy angels' – the New Guinean villagers who saved the lives of countless injured Australian soldiers by nursing them and carrying them to safety.

Cecilia called everyone to sit down at the table, with Mark at the head and Edward at the place of honour at the other end. The older generation sat at one end, gossiping together, while the younger generation gathered at Edward's end. Honey stayed under the table, hoping to catch some fallen scraps.

Bryony and Poppy laid multiple dishes down on the table – green salad with avocados and baby cucumbers from the garden, baked potatoes and pumpkin, a jug of
gravy, tiny truss tomatoes with chopped spring onions and basil, a huge tureen of apple sauce, mustards, sliced cold ham and minted green peas with butter. Mark carved the huge leg of pork with crackling, while Edward carved the chicken and stuffing.

Everyone helped themselves to whatever took their fancy, passing the plates from hand to hand, then Mark said grace.

Everyone filled their glasses and Mark made a toast. ‘Here's to a wonderful celebration of family and friends, returned safely home again.' Everyone clinked their glasses, smiling.

‘And to those who won't be coming home again,' Cecilia suggested.

‘To my brother Harry,' said Jack, exchanging glances with his parents and Danny.

‘To Daisy and Charlie,' said Poppy, her voice choked.

‘To Iris,' said Edward.

‘To Henry,' said Phoebe with a muffled sob.

‘To all our friends and family who sacrificed their lives so we could enjoy this day,' said Mark.

There was a moment's silence, and a few tears as everyone thought of those who had died.

‘Now let's enjoy the afternoon,' suggested Mark, picking up his cutlery.

Then everyone shared in the best meal that any of them had eaten for many years, smiling and talking and laughing and joking and sharing stories.

After lunch, Jack and Edward began a game of backyard cricket, which everyone joined in, including Honey, who snatched the ball more often than anyone.
Then the oldies sat in the shade and rested while the younger generation walked down to Mindil Beach for a swim. Poppy was relieved to see that the barbed wire had been rolled away.

Salty and sandy after their afternoon swim, everyone strolled back to the house along the dirt track in pairs and in groups. Jack and Poppy dawdled together at the rear, catching up on three years of news and thoughts.

As they drew closer to the house, the strains of a Vera Lynn record could be heard on the breeze, singing many of her greatest hits from the war years.

‘I love this song,' Poppy confessed, and began to sing along to the lyrics of
‘As Time Goes By', swaying to the slow music, eyes closed.

‘You must remember this

A kiss is still a kiss

A sigh is just a sigh

The fundamental things apply

As time goes by.'

‘May I have this dance, Midget?' asked Jack with mock formality. They danced to the song under the frangipani tree with bare, sandy feet. Jack swung her around and out, and back in again. Then he kissed her. The song and the dance and the kiss seemed to go on forever, and then it was over. With hearts pounding, they joined the others in the garden.

Much later in the afternoon, Cecilia served the plum pudding, made with carefully hoarded sugar, served with mangoes from the tree and vanilla ice cream.

‘Ice cream always makes me think of the Americans,' joked Jack. ‘Their favourite breakfast food!'

‘Thank goodness for the Americans,' said Phoebe. ‘If we'd left it to the British we'd be speaking Japanese now.'

‘No,' Edward disagreed. ‘The Poms were right beside us at Singapore, and over seventy thousand British soldiers were taken prisoner with us. They made mistakes, but they didn't abandon us.'

‘Children, no arguing on Christmas Day,' Cecilia pretended to scold. ‘All right, let's change the subject. The war is over, we have a whole new future ahead of us – what are you all going to do with it?'

Everyone thought for a moment.

‘I'm going to rebuild our surgery here in Darwin, alongside my beautiful wife, and never leave her again,' Mark declared. ‘What do you think, darling?'

‘I second that,' Cecilia agreed, squeezing his arm.

‘I'm going to
find
a beautiful wife and take her to Alexandra Downs,' said Jack's brother Danny. ‘It's time Mum and Dad had a rest from all that hard work.'

Everyone laughed and raised their glasses in a toast. Cecilia glanced at her eldest daughter, a small furrow of concern between her brows. A wave of sorrow passed over Phoebe's face, but she shook it off and smiled brightly.

‘I've been offered a job as matron of a small private hospital in Brisbane,' confided Phoebe. ‘It's offering good money for a nurse, and it will be easy after the work I've been doing.'

‘Oh, well done, Phoebe,' Cecilia said. ‘That's a huge achievement.'

Phoebe twisted a gold ring she wore on her left hand, and turned to Jack.

‘I'm going back to Alexandra Downs as well, and working out what it is I really want to do,' said Jack. ‘I think it will be nice to have a rest for a while. Then I might follow Danny's lead.' He flashed a shy smile at Poppy.

‘Well, now might be the time to make an announcement,' said Bryony. ‘I'm engaged to be married. I met a lovely man in Queensland called Joe, and we are saving up to buy a house and get settled. We worked together at Ascot and he asked me to marry him just before I left Brisbane.'

There were loud cries of congratulation and more chinking of glasses.

‘Why didn't you tell us, Bryony?' asked Poppy, thumping her on the shoulder.

‘You didn't ask till just now!'

Phoebe stood and hugged her sister. ‘I'm so happy for you.'

‘I don't know what I'm going to do,' Edward admitted. ‘Not much good for anything with this leg.'

‘You are going to stay home for a little while and rest,' his mother assured him. ‘You've been through a lot, and you need to heal. You'll be sick of recuperating soon enough, and then you'll be raring to start a new project.'

‘And what about you, Poppy?' asked Mark.

Poppy thought carefully, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. She glanced at Jack, then looked away, biting her lip.

‘I'm going back to Sydney to apply to university,' announced Poppy. ‘I'm going to study English literature, but I'd like to do teaching as well. It seems to me that good teachers can make a big difference in the world, just like our headmistress, Miss Royston.'

Cecilia nodded, encouraging her to continue.

‘When the war came, I didn't want to leave Darwin. But being forced to go actually gave me an opportunity I might not otherwise have had – to get a good education. One day I'd like to come back to Darwin and teach. It seems a crime that there is no high school here, nowhere that children can learn. I'd like to change that.'

Poppy paused and looked around the table.

‘Go back to Sydney?' asked Bryony. ‘Go to university? I thought you couldn't wait to come back
here
.'

Poppy raised her chin defiantly.

‘You'll make a wonderful teacher, Poppy,' said Jack.

‘I think it's a fine idea,' agreed Cecilia. ‘You'll be the first woman in our family to get a university degree. Now that would make me very proud.'

Mark raised his glass once more. ‘To my beautiful family, who fill me with delight,' he said, his voice filled with emotion. ‘And to the best Christmas for many a long year.'

‘Merry Christmas!' shouted everyone.