Five Parts Dead (17 page)

A
UGUST 21
Commenced with fresh breeze & variable at ENE–NE. From 1am, four hours rain, from 8 till noon drizzling rain. Lightning at NW from 10pm.

Mr Bellows still claiming to be incapacitated and unable to fulfil his obligations. This afternoon, having directly interviewed Miss Lily as to how she came to be injured and sleeping in the stables, she confessed that an exorcism was performed upon her in my absence. She stated that Mr Bellows and Mr Sutton tied her to a kitchen chair so she could not move. Mrs Sutton read from the Bible while Mrs Bellows assailed Miss Lily, apparently with the intention of forcing demons from her. Miss Lily says Mrs Bellows began by pummelling and squeezing her belly and chest, and then her throat. She is unable to give a reason for this persecution by the underkeepers but tearfully disclosed that she is with child and Mr Sam is the father. She now fears for the health of the infant.

Exceedingly disturbed by this most vicious collusion, I called an immediate meeting of all personnel, demanding an explanation.

Mrs Bellows opined that Miss Lily is possessed by demons. Having survived the drowning of her mother and twin sister, she had come to our community to do Satan's work. Mrs Bellows said she called a meeting at which she attributed her miscarriage and the deaths of the Sutton children to Miss Lily's presence. She said, ‘Even poor Captain Wilton was moved to return from the dead to revile his own daughter.'

With the other keepers silent, I replied that this was a tragic circumstance brought on by a mudslide and naught to do with demons.

In response, Mrs Bellows screamed that Miss Lily was a seductress and adulterer and carrying Mr Bellows' child. I turned to speak to Miss Lily, seeking permission to correct this stain on her character. But, as I did so, Mr Bellows vowed this to be true and that ‘the devil child tempted him when she brought his evening meal to the light tower'. Miss Lily protested but Mrs Bellows spoke over her, calling out, ‘Demon be gone!'

At this, Mrs Sutton held up a crucifix and stated, ‘Mrs Bellows is indeed a woman of God. She blessed us with an awareness of Satan's work. We had to act to protect the children of the island—those born and unborn.' In response, Miss Lily fainted.

A
UGUST 22
Began with light wind from the SSW and clear weather. At 4am wind W by SW. At 5h 3m put out the light. From 6, overcast and hazy. Used 3 qrts 1½ pints oil trimming the lamps. Mr Bellows still refusing to work.

I have signalled for assistance, feeling unable to rely on my fellow keepers. I wish to have Miss Lily evacuated from the Cape at the earliest opportunity, fearing for her wellbeing. I have also written to the Marine Board seeking the transfer of underkeepers Bellows and Sutton. I will appeal to the first passing vessel to take Miss Lily and my correspondence.

At 1pm a ship in sight bearing north—too far off to communicate. At 3, a barque standing eastward. Signalled to both vessels but got no answer, the weather being too hazy.

A
UGUST 23
Began with negligible breeze, cloudy weather, wind WSW. At 4 wind W by N. At 6h put out the light. Wind NW. Served out three pints of oil for the cottages. At noon a brig passed for the eastward. Hoisted signals but got no answer.

I cannot bear to give Miss Lily the news I am burdened with, in her traumatised state. In order to avoid her persecutors she rarely leaves my verandah, other than to feed the horse and deliver my supper. While he claims to be too injured to work, Mr Bellows continues to walk around his cottage each evening, carrying his Bible in front of him as a shield. I cannot but wonder if this is a form of penance for his alleged infidelity…

A
UGUST 27
Commenced with strong offshore wind at ENE. From 2 till 10, overcast.

Mr Bellows still refusing to work his shift. I have warned him that unless someone from his household upholds their responsibility to the Marine Board today, I will recommend his immediate dismissal from service at the earliest opportunity.

A cutter in sight has signalled they are altering course to assist us. I order Mr Sutton to watch from the light tower while I ride to Nolan's Return to await a landing. Cutter unable to land due to high seas.

A
UGUST 28
Commenced with strong onshore wind at ESE, 1am to 6am. Ditto to 4pm. Cloudy throughout, latter part dark & gloomy with 1 hr drizzling rain.

The cutter
Selby
reappeared at 11am. I rode to Nolan's Return to meet the captain.

Returned to the light station to find a scene of utter devastation. Miss Lily's body lay on rocks below the light tower. Mrs Bellows said that she had been employed cleaning the lantern for her husband when Miss Lily forced her way onto the balcony and leaped to her death. Mrs Bellows then thanked God for ‘delivering' our community from evil.

I have sketched this most tragic scene and requested the
Selby
return tomorrow to collect my report on this most unjust and premature fatality.

A
UGUST 29
Commenced with moderate breeze at W & NW and cloudy with a few light showers till 4am. From 2pm to 4, unsettled conditions, heavy squalls of rain at WSW…

Given that Miss Lily has no other family, I demanded she be buried at the cemetery with her father. Mrs Bellows opposed me, asserting that to do so would be to curse our entire community. She said the sanctity of marriage is even more vital in a settlement as minute as ours and a Jezebel ought to be punished. She insisted upon a ‘harlot's burial', separate from the other graves and facing the setting sun, due to the disgrace wrought upon her father and her community. To my disappointment, Mr and Mrs Sutton concurred, citing suicide as a sin against the Almighty Creator.

I challenged Mr Bellows to be a man of honour and admit that he was not the father of Miss Lily's child. Glancing first at his wife, he stated: ‘I will not deny that she seduced me to impure thoughts and deeds. She was a she-devil, best gone from our island. I am most fortunate that my wife forgives my transgressions.'

After I implored Mr Sutton to think of his own daughter being so harshly judged, he agreed to assist with the burial. However, he refused to dig the grave anywhere but in the furthest corner of the cemetery. Together we interred Miss Lily's remains, but he declined to stay for a ceremony.

I looked across the graveyard to Captain Wilton's grave, believing he and his daughter should be together. I fashioned a cross from stones and then read the service over Miss Lily, sickened that such a lonely young woman should remain so isolated and persecuted, even in death. I prayed for her soul and will do so, every day I draw breath.

I entrust these pages and my observational sketch to the care of the captain of the
Selby
. May God see that justice is done.

The last thing in the file is a crumpled envelope. As Pip opens it, I hold my breath.

Inside is a single sheet, a sketch of the rocks at the base of the lighthouse. Lily's body is drawn face up on the kelp, just as I saw her two days ago.

There are notes below the drawing, also in the captain's spidery handwriting:

Distance from tower, 12 feet
Wind, as noted
Lunch basket overturned on the balcony

Pip speaks first. ‘Look at what he says about the wind. In the log it was a strong onshore wind—blowing towards the island, not away from it. To fall that far from the tower, face up, she can't have jumped. She was pregnant, for God's sake…She must have been pushed. Or thrown.'

‘Mrs Bellows killed her,' I say in a hushed voice. ‘She would have ordered Lily to bring the food upstairs—why else would the basket be on the balcony? She wouldn't have carried it all the way up there if she was going to jump. Mrs Bellows was jealous of Sam and Lily's baby and so she pushed her backwards over the railing! And, for some reason, the coroner never saw this sketch.'

Everything swims into focus. The dreams, the tarot reading, the girl, and me. I know what I need to do.

Sally whistles at what we've uncovered. ‘How good are your investigation skills? What a sensational result! And, hey, thank you. That “EC”—the initials you saw— that's my great-grandfather Edward…the
Observer'
s been in our family for generations. This is brilliant: it's like he and I are working on the same story together! Come on. I'll give you a lift back to the Cape…Would you guys be willing to be in a photo? We can workshop a headline. How does “Kids Foil Cape Cover-Up” grab you?'

EF: SOS HAS BEEN CANCELLED

Sally stayed for dinner last night. She even sat through a slideshow of Dad's wetlands photos. I accused her of being another bird nerd but she claimed there could be an article for her in Dad's research. She must be really struggling for stories.

We're leaving tomorrow but there's enough time for me to do what I have to.

Mum gave me a lift down to the cemetery. She'll drop Pip off later. I wanted to spend some time here alone.

The wrought-iron gate is shackled with straggly creepers. I try to wrench it open. It won't budge—the salt air must have rusted the latch.

Resting two hands on the top of the fence, I jump up, awkwardly swing my cast over, then the other leg. I spill into the weedy graveyard, wincing as I land.

Two neat rows of white crosses, fifteen in total, face east to witness the rising sun. Each is initialled and dated but there are no ornate decorations or inscriptions. Captain Wilton's cross is in the front row:

Cpt KW
13.9.1858

Where is his daughter's grave? In the far corner, a tree branch has fallen across the fence. Through a mesh of twigs and decaying leaves I can see a mound, marked by a jumble of mismatched stones in the shape of a cross. It has to be Lily's plot, facing west and condemned by her warped little community for eternity. Grasping the branch with both hands, I drag it back over the fence.

Lily's grave is overgrown, barely distinguishable from the ground around it. I drop to my knees and pluck weeds and greedy tendrils of creeper from the mound. As I claw at the earth, a gruff wind arrives, hissing in the trees.

I've stripped the grave clean by the time I hear footsteps on the gravel path. I struggle upright, relieved to see Pip.

‘Come around here, there's a spot where the fence is busted,' I call out.

Moments later Pip ducks under the fallen branch and squeezes through the fence to stand beside me. She kisses me on the cheek. ‘So this is her, over here on her own?' She passes me a wooden cross and waterproof marker. I kneel and write on the cross, as best as I can with trembling hands.

Lily Wilton
and Sam Jnr
28.8.1859

As I do so, there's a metallic clink behind us. A shiver surfs down my spine. Pip gasps. At the far side of the cemetery, the rusty gate creaks open but there's no intruder to be seen.

The gate swings shut. The latch clunks. The wind whimpers in the trees.

I look up at Pip. Her face is white but she summons a smile. My pulse pounds as I turn back to the grave. I grab a stone and carefully knock the new cross into the soil.

With the marker in place, I glance towards the head of the grave. Lily stands there, her hands folded over her round belly, her head bowed in prayer. She looks up, gazing into my eyes, then down to the cross. She nods, then vanishes.

‘She was a twin too, you know,' I murmur to Pip. ‘Did you see her?'

‘No, but I'm not surprised if you did. It feels like something just…ended.'

I move across to Pip and pull her to me. ‘Guess that depends on your perspective. It feels like something's beginning to me. Something fantastic.'

We swing hands as we walk back to where Mum's waiting in the car.

M: I AM STOPPED. MAKING NO WAY.

Mel and I cook dinner together, using everything left in the pantry. Cauliflower, frozen peas, coconut milk, cumin, coriander and onion soon swirl in a rich curry that we pour over steamed rice. It's just the five of us tonight. Hiroshi has a nocturnal animals tour and Mel wasn't keen. ‘Mosquitos and cranky koalas,' she said. ‘Not my scene. I'll catch up with Rosh on the ferry tomorrow.'