The Lost Sapphire

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Authors: Belinda Murrell

BOOK: The Lost Sapphire
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About the Book

‘First I have a surprise to tell you about. I've received a very interesting letter …'

Marli is staying with her dad in Melbourne, and missing her friends. Then she discovers a mystery – an abandoned mansion is to be returned to her family after many years. Marli sneaks into the locked garden to explore, and meets Luca, a boy who has his own connection to Riversleigh.

A peacock hatbox, an antique camera and a key on a velvet ribbon provide clues to what happened long ago …

In 1922, Violet is fifteen. Her life is filled with boating parties, picnics and extravagant balls. An army of servants looks after her family – including the young Russian chauffeur, Nikolai.

Over one summer, Violet must decide what is important to her. What will she learn about Melbourne's slums as she defies her father's orders to help a friend? Who will her sister marry? And what breathtaking secret is Nikolai hiding?

 

Contents

To my beautiful family – Rob, Nick, Emily and Lachie, who fill my life with love and joy.

1
Arrival

Melbourne, modern day

The plane skimmed high above the billowing white clouds. Marli peered out the window. She felt free, soaring so far above the earth. For a moment she forgot why she was there, where she was flying to. Then reality came back with a rush, and she felt her stomach sink.

As the plane wheeled and began its descent, Marli could see silver-roofed farmhouses scattered below, along with lush green paddocks bordered with darker hedges and dams that gleamed like shiny coins. The farmland looked like a magical miniature world. Despite herself, Marli felt a flicker of excitement.

Planes and airports always made her feel like that. They seemed to offer the promise of adventure, an escape from the everyday life of school, homework and soccer training.

But not this time
, Marli told herself firmly.
This time, the plane is not taking me away on a journey to an exciting, exotic
place. This time the plane is dragging me to the world's most boring summer.

Marli turned away from the view, scowling, her arms firmly crossed. The flight attendant sashayed down the aisle, pausing beside Marli. Her uniform was crisp and bright, her face perfectly made up, her hair lacquered in a tight bun. Marli immediately felt scruffy and awkward in her grey jumper, ripped jeans and short black lace-up boots. Her mother had encouraged her to wear something pretty, but Marli had insisted she needed to wear something loose and comfortable for the trip.

‘Coming home?' the flight attendant chirped.

‘No.' Marli pushed a hank of auburn hair behind her ear. Her own bun was messy and unravelling. ‘Just visiting.'

‘Family or friends?' asked the flight attendant.

‘My dad.' Marli fiddled with the engraved silver bangle on her wrist. ‘For the school holidays. I don't see him often,' she confessed.

Why did I tell her that?
thought Marli.
Too much information.
She hunched down in her seat.

‘Well, have a wonderful holiday,' said the flight attendant. ‘Melbourne is one of the most exciting cities in the world.' The flight attendant continued down the aisle, checking that all passengers were ready to land.

Marli's thoughts returned to her problems – there were several. The major problem was that Marli's mum had been offered an opportunity that was simply too good to refuse. She had been invited to England for eight weeks to lecture in history at Cambridge University and research a book she was writing on Celtic culture.

Several times in the past, Marli had accompanied her mum when she taught at interstate universities for a week or two. The best trip had been when Marli was twelve, and she and her mother had lived in Ireland for six months while her mother completed her PhD in Dublin and Marli attended a local school. She had come home with a broad Irish accent that had lasted for months.

However, this time Mum had decided that Marli should spend the summer holidays with her father in Melbourne. Marli had argued and sulked and begged, but to no avail. Her mother was adamant that it was the perfect opportunity for her to spend quality time with her father.

Marli's parents had separated four years ago, when she was ten. Dad had been offered a high-flying job in his home town of Melbourne while Marli and her mother had stayed behind in Brisbane. At first Marli had been devastated – she missed him terribly – but over time she became used to having the odd holiday with him or the occasional dinner when he came to town on business. They had gone from being close, with her dad teaching her about photography and coaching her soccer team, to having an awkward, intermittent relationship of hasty phone calls once a week. Now they only saw each other once or twice a year.

But she didn't want to spend a whole summer in a strange city where she didn't really know anyone. All her friends had been talking about their plans to have fun together. There would be parties and movies and picnics and beach trips. And Marli would miss everything.

She slumped further down in her seat and glared out the window. The colour of the sky had deepened and golden lights twinkled from the buildings below. The pilot made
an announcement over the loudspeaker and the plane continued its descent.

Marli thought back to Mum's words as she'd dropped her at the airport. ‘Marli, sweetheart, try to have fun. Your father is so looking forward to you coming. Please don't ruin it all by insisting on being miserable.'

‘I'm not insisting on being miserable,' retorted Marli. ‘I
am
miserable. I want to come to England with you, or stay at Evie's house so I can see my friends this summer.'

‘Sweetie, we've been over this,' Mum said. ‘You can't come to England with me because I have a really hectic work schedule. This is a huge chance for me. And I couldn't expect Evie's parents to have you for two whole months. Besides, Alex is your father and it's important you see him.'

Marli shook her head. ‘It will be so
boring
staying with Dad,' she insisted. ‘He'll be working all the time, and I won't know anyone in Melbourne.'

Mum had hugged her close, and Marli snuggled in against her, breathing in her warmth and the faint scent of citrus.

Mum abruptly pulled away and put her hands on Marli's shoulders. ‘You'll make friends,' she assured her. ‘Think of it as a great adventure.'

Marli felt her heart lift for a moment, then she frowned. She actually wanted to feel miserable. She was so angry with her mother for going off to England and making her go to Melbourne. She was angry with her father for leaving them in the first place. And she was angry with herself for not being able to persuade her mother to change her plans. She hoped Mum was worrying about her now and feeling sorry that she'd sent her away.

Marli felt her ears pop as the plane descended. Raindrops raced down the windows.

The plane thumped down and trundled along through the runway puddles towards the terminal before coming to a stop. Marli quickly switched her phone off airplane mode and checked for messages. Disappointingly, there were none from any of her friends. Just one from Mum: ‘Love you. Have fun. M xxx'.

Marli grabbed her canvas backpack, heavy with books, from the overhead locker and shuffled up the aisle with the rest of the passengers, down the stairs and onto the tarmac. She shivered as a biting wind whipped around her, cutting through her thin jumper and tangling her hair. It had been summery and hot when she left home. Inside the airport, people waited to meet family and friends. Marli looked around, a knot of apprehension in her stomach. Would he be there?

‘Marli-myshka,' called a familiar voice and Marli swung her head in its direction. There he was, her father, Alex Peterson, tall with dark hair and brown eyes, just like hers. He swept her up in a hug. ‘I'm so glad you're here.'

For a moment Marli relaxed into the embrace, then she stiffened and pulled away. ‘Hi, Dad.'

Her dad looked momentarily disappointed before schooling his face into one of warm welcome. ‘Your grandfather can't wait to see you. He'll hardly recognise you – you're so grown up.'

Her father kept up a steady flow of chat as they queued to collect Marli's luggage, talking about his plans to take two weeks off over Christmas so they could drive along the Great Ocean Road.

‘I thought we'd go out for dinner tonight, just the two of us,' he suggested as they made their way to the car park. ‘There're some fantastic Vietnamese restaurants in Richmond near my place. That's if you're not too tired.'

Marli felt like saying yes, she was too tired to go out on a cold, drizzly night. But then she thought about the long evening ahead. Perhaps it would be better to be out in a noisy restaurant than sitting with Dad in his quiet apartment.

She nodded. ‘That sounds good.'

‘Great, then tomorrow we'll visit Didi. He says he has a special surprise for us.'

Marli felt a rush of anticipation at the thought of seeing her grandfather again. She hadn't seen him for two years. Memories came back of childhood games, reading by the fire and bushwalking with her grandparents.

It was a long, slow drive through peak-hour traffic to Victoria Street, Richmond, weaving through cars and trams. Pedestrians dashed across the road. Horns blared. Lights dazzled. Marli noticed that the streetscape changed drastically, becoming more exotic the farther they drove. Dad parked the car down a side street and they strolled along the crowded footpath.

Marli felt like they had been transported to a foreign country as they walked past vibrantly coloured buildings, a jumble of Asian signs and shopfronts crowded with mounds of vegetables, hanging barbecued ducks, baskets of shellfish and other unusual groceries.

‘They call this area Little Saigon because there is such a large Vietnamese population living here,' explained Dad. ‘Some time you must come down for the Moon Lantern Festival in autumn. It's great fun.'

Marli looked around with wide eyes, soaking up the sights and sounds of Little Saigon. The scent of mysterious spices and sizzling food wafted from the shopfronts. A Vietnamese woman in a quilted jacket stood beside a stall on the pavement selling fresh herbs, salad greens and golden mangoes.

Dad pointed further down Victoria Street. ‘My favourite restaurant is just up here if you're happy with Vietnamese, or we could go to the Greek precinct in Swan Street, or there're Mexican, Chinese and Japanese eateries if you'd rather something else,' he said. ‘I must confess, I don't cook much when there's so much amazing food right on my doorstep.'

‘Vietnamese sounds great,' Marli said, suddenly feeling hungry.

Dad eased his way into a packed restaurant with crimson walls, simple wooden tables and chairs, and paper lanterns hanging from the ceiling. The proprietor hurried forward with a broad smile.

‘Hi, Than,' said Dad. ‘How are you?'

‘Good, Alex,' replied Than. ‘You're very early. We don't normally see you till nearly closing time. Are you eating in tonight?'

Dad beamed and gestured to Marli. ‘Yes, I have a good incentive today. My beautiful daughter, Marli, has just flown in from Brisbane to spend a few weeks with me. I told my boss that neither fire nor high water would keep me in the office tonight.'

‘Great to meet you finally,' said Than to Marli. ‘Your father is our best customer, but he always comes very late. His boss works him hard.'

‘I often pull up out the front and grab a quick takeaway,' Dad confessed with a rueful smile.

That must get rather lonely for Dad, eating takeaway on his own
, Marli thought. Than chatted about business while he settled them at a table overlooking the bustling street. A babble of voices sounded from the kitchen, calling out in Vietnamese.

The two pored over the menu, sipped steaming green tea in tiny cups and discussed what to order. The food came quickly – delicate rice paper rolls stuffed with prawns, rice noodles and mint, lemongrass chilli chicken, barbecued spicy pork with fresh herbs and fluffy rice.

Dad asked Marli questions about school, soccer and who she was hanging out with. Marli told him about her best friends – Evie, Charlie, Max and Tess. She tried not to sound petulant as she talked about the movies they had seen, the soccer grand final and weekend excursions to the beach. It reminded her of what she would be missing out on over the summer.

‘And how's your mother?' asked Dad. Was Marli imagining it or did he seem wistful?

Marli tossed her head, feeling the frustration welling up again as she thought of Mum winging her way to England without her.

‘Fine,' replied Marli, stabbing a piece of chicken with her chopstick. ‘She'll be in heaven in Cambridge, surrounded by all those grand, old buildings and dusty manuscripts. She'll forget all about us, discussing druids and burial rites with her students.'

When they had lived in Ireland, one of their favourite places had been the Long Room of Trinity College
Library, with its soaring arched ceilings, marble busts and galleries holding two hundred thousand books. Marli had loved to read or draw in one of the peaceful, silent library nooks. She still remembered the feeling of awe when Mum had shown her the famous Book of Kells, a collection of extravagantly illuminated manuscripts written twelve hundred years ago by the monks of Iona.

On weekends, they had travelled the countryside, staying in quaint cottages, grand country homes and ancient castles that had been turned into guesthouses. Mum had her guidebook in hand everywhere, telling Marli fascinating stories about the history of the buildings and the people who had lived there. It had been one of the happiest times of her life. Marli shook herself mentally. Mum would soon be in Cambridge, having an amazing time, and she was stuck here in Melbourne.

‘Your mother's done brilliantly well,' Dad said, taking another spring roll and dunking it in the peanut sauce. ‘It couldn't have been easy forging a career as an historical expert on Celtic culture while raising a child.'

‘I guess so,' Marli replied, twisting the silver bangle on her arm. She hadn't thought about it from that angle before.

‘I thought you might like to come into work with me one day next week,' said Dad, changing the subject. ‘We're building an exciting new development down in the Docklands, a series of ultra-modern skyscrapers with apartments, offices, restaurants, cafés, shops and businesses. It will be a high-rise city with amazing views of the bay.'

‘Sure,' said Marli. She didn't imagine it would be that interesting to spend the day on a big construction site, but what else was she going to do?

Dad frowned and rubbed his forehead. ‘It's been a challenging project – we've had endless problems with environmental issues, delayed materials, unreliable suppliers and budget blowouts. I've been working day and night for months …'

As he spoke about work, Marli thought her father looked tired and worried. Dad was an architect. A few years ago he had his own small business in Brisbane, designing renovations for family homes, many of them old timber Queenslanders with ornate fretwork and wide verandahs. When Marli was young, her parents had spent every weekend sanding, painting, repairing and restoring their own hundred-year-old timber cottage in Paddington.

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