Tears of the Moon (64 page)

Olivia gave a small gasp of surprise and turned to Tyndall who looked unfazed. ‘Well, if there’s one place unlikely to find itself involved in an international conflict, it’s Broome. Though we’ve had our
share of our own little wars right here over the years. Isn’t that so, Toby?’ said Tyndall with a laconic grin.

‘Indeed we have. But the rumblings in Europe are sounding ominous,’ said Toby, lighting a cigarette.

‘So much so that my father is moving the family and the business from Europe to New York.’

Tyndall raised his eyebrows. ‘That is a big step. Especially when times are so grim. The recovery from the Depression has been very slow. War in Europe could have disastrous effects … kill off the industry for good. And we can’t have that. Plastic is no comparison for pearl shell.’

‘Well, times change, Captain Tyndall … ’

‘They do indeed,’ Toby agreed. ‘It’s hard to imagine pearling not being Broome’s lifeblood.’

‘You wouldn’t consider retiring, Captain Tyndall? This seems the time to bow out,’ said Claude Barat delicately.

‘No bloody way. Never,’ said Tyndall firmly.

That night he talked to Olivia. This was not verandah sunset drink chat, but lying in bed holding each other in the warm darkness.

‘Young Barat’s remark hit home, I have to confess,’ Tyndall admitted, ‘I don’t feel any different … do you?’

‘Older, you mean? No. I sometimes get a surprise when I look in the mirror and see this “woman of a certain age” and wonder where the young Olivia disappeared to.’

‘She hasn’t gone anywhere. She’s right here.’ Tyndall tightened his grip around her. ‘I always see
you as the windswept fresh-faced young woman in those mad sailing pyjamas.’

Olivia smiled in the darkness and snuggled close to him. ‘But the fact remains, my darling—we aren’t as young as we were, and sailing and all the physical work involved in pearling takes their toll.’

‘Olivia … I’m still fit and I’m still a pearler. I’m not about to sit on the verandah.’

‘I know, John. But what Claude was pointing out is the bad state of the industry. And this talk of war is very worrying. It will devastate the business.’

‘Young Barat reckoning a war could hit us here seems a bit far-fetched. I doubt Hitler is eyeing the north-west of Australia, but I think the Barats are probably smart to move their headquarters to New York. Don’t worry, we’ll keep pearling as long as we’re able.’

Tyndall’s dismissal of the events in Europe was contradicted in a matter of months as they all began to follow the deteriorating situation in Europe with mounting tension.

It was Maya, making a cup of tea one morning, who came running to Tyndall and Olivia, tapping urgently on their bedroom door. ‘We’re at war! The news just came over the wireless. Because Britain is at war with Germany … something to do with Poland. Oh dear … ’ Maya went in and sat tearfully on the edge of the bed.

Olivia took her hand. ‘It seems incredible … two wars in our lifetime. When will they learn? When I think of Hamish and all those brave boys who
died … ’ The two women sat quietly for a moment, then Tyndall broke the silence.

‘I’d better go find out if the RM knows any more details.’

Later that morning small groups garnered about the town to discuss the news. The RM’s aide was dispatched on his bicycle to the homes and offices of the leading citizens in the town, calling them to a meeting at the Residence.

Tyndall, the Senior Customs Officer, the Inspector of Pearl Fisheries, the new Sergeant of Police, the Bishop, the doctor, the postmaster, two other pearling masters and several other leading citizens gathered in the front garden of the Residence while a Malay houseboy in white uniform served cool drinks. The men talked quietly amongst themselves, digesting the latest news that had been picked up in a shortwave broadcast from London. The group fell silent when the Resident Magistrate appeared, stood next to the flagpole and cleared his throat.

‘Gentlemen. It is my unhappy duty to tell you that I have received official advice from the Government that Australia is now at war. It is our duty as citizens of the British Empire to support her. I know that I have your wholehearted backing to do whatever is necessary for the defence of the Empire in the dark days ahead. I am sure that I can telegraph our Prime Minister, Mr Menzies, that we are all behind the Government and the King.’

The short speech was greeted with a hearty, ‘hear,
hear’, followed by three loud cheers, then everyone took up the lead of the Church of England minister and sang. This was immediately followed by an enthusiastic burst of ‘God save the King.’

Several Malay and Japanese crew members passing by glanced at the small crowd around the flagpole, but when the anthem was sung they stood still, at attention, as was the custom they had learned.

At its conclusion they continued on their way, shaking their heads at the prospect of war. There were few enough luggers working as it was because of the effects of the Depression. A war would mean the bottom falling out of the pearl shell market.

Maya was very withdrawn and preoccupied and it seemed to Olivia there was something bothering her apart from the war news. Maya looked pale and was racked by a persistent cough. Olivia was about to mention this to Tyndall one evening as they sat on the verandah but, at that moment, Maya quietly came along and asked if she could join them.

‘What’s up my love?’ asked Tyndall. ‘I haven’t seen a smile in weeks.’

‘There isn’t much to smile about, is there?’ she said with a sigh.

‘That depends now,’ said Tyndall. ‘You could smile because you live in a safe little backwater, it’s a terrific sunset out there, and you have a family who loves you.’

‘You’re right, Dad, but the war is worrying. What’s going to happen to us? The business isn’t doing well.’ She sighed heavily and leaned back in the deckchair
as if very tired. ‘There’s another thing. For some reason, I feel I want to go down the coast to see the mob. Maybe that’s what I need to brighten things up. It’s ages since I last went bush.’

Tyndall gave her a penetrating glance and Olivia jumped in quickly. ‘That’s a good idea, Maya, it’s nearly the end of the wet. The weather is calm, the sea trip will do you a world of good.’

‘Then why don’t we all go,’ announced Tyndall. He was about to add that he had a feeling it might be their last opportunity for some time, but decided against it.

It was a ‘family expedition’ down the coast. Olivia, Maya, Tyndall and Ahmed laughed and reminisced as they sailed south in smooth seas and sunny weather. A little colour returned to Maya’s cheeks and Olivia was happy to be at sea again. Tyndall declared they all looked as young as when they’d first started sailing down to Cossack and, looking at him, legs braced on the deck, long brown fingers delicately guiding the wheel, the wind in his hair, his back straight, Olivia had to agree. And looking at his beloved Olivia, Tyndall still saw the defiant chin, the bright eyes, the soft curves of the body he adored, her hair falling in a thick loose braid down her back in shades of pepper and salt. Olivia moved a little more cautiously on the boat than in the past, but she, too, still held herself firmly, her grace and poise unbent.

‘What a marvellous pair you are,’ said Maya.

‘I agree,’ said Tyndall. ‘The only old fella in this crew is Ahmed there.’

Ahmed, slightly stooped and wizen-faced, his bright black eyes still merry, gave a nicotine-stained, gap-toothed grin and raised his cigarette. ‘You right there, tuan. Ahmed old fella now.’ But his sure movements on the boat and agility in the little galley proved he was not as ancient as Tyndall’s teasing hinted.

They moored and, as expected, there were members of the black community there to greet them. The numbers had decreased and they travelled less these days. Some had chosen to settle permanently at the mission on the coast. So the arrival of the schooner was greeted with much excitement, a welcome diversion and reunion.

After greetings were exchanged on the beach, almost all talking at once, they walked through the well-worn track over the dunes to the camp.

Olivia fell silent and the chatter became background noise as she was transported back to the first time she had landed here—frightened, exhausted, pregnant. This place and its inhabitants might as well have been an alien planet. Now she knew almost -everyone and the women still told the story of her arrival and the birth of baby James. It had become folklore. What might have happened to her had they not befriended her? She had Tyndall to thank for that. She had found that there was a kinship between these people and Minnie and Niah. Now she better understood and appreciated the intertwining relationships. Maya had lost her identity then rediscovered it here. Olivia had helped bring Maya into the world and always felt a bond with her, little knowing she would
one day give birth to Olivia’s granddaughter. Momentary regrets drifted through her mind, that Hamish had died in the war, and his child Georgie chose not to know these special people, but she dismissed them and concentrated on the conversation around her.

Later, settled round the campfire, passing damper and treacle, Tyndall glanced across at Olivia and felt such pride and love as he watched her, so at ease and genuinely fond of these people. She was as gracious and relaxed as if in a drawing room. What a delight it had been sharing these past fourteen years with her. He smiled to himself, recalling the first moment he’d seen her here—alone and defiantly brandishing a gun, so strong, yet so vulnerable. What an incredible journey her life had been, yet despite the tragedies there was no hint of bitterness, no hardness in her face or heart. He had loved her from that very moment and the intensity of his feelings for her had never wavered. Niah had been a special brief light in his life that, if he was honest, filled the space reserved for Olivia. He fervently hoped he had made Olivia as joyous as he had felt all this time.

As if sensing his thought she glanced over at him and they exchanged a loving smile.

Ahmed caught the swift look between them and it warmed his heart. Tyndall was his family and he had silently watched the trials of Olivia and Tyndall as they stumbled along their separate paths. He knew the great pull between them was like the moon and the tides and had prayed that fate would bring them together.

Maya, too, was moved by the feelings of love and friendship amongst them all. How she wished Georgiana was here to share this. But Maya had now accepted that her daughter was not one of them, that she had chosen to go her own way in life—her independent streak would see her survive and achieve whatever she set her mind to. Maya felt at great peace here with her people. And to share this time with Olivia and Tyndall made it doubly so. She was conscious of her links, secure in her identity. The childhood years, even if not fully remembered, were imprinted in her psyche and added to her spiritual sense of belonging. The wisdom these women passed on to her, as they had passed on to each other for generations, gave Maya strength and peace.

That evening as everyone gathered around the big fire, they feasted and sang and told stories. It was a jewel-bright time that would glitter in the memories of each of them.

The early wartime complacency of Australia was shattered with the bombing of Pearl Harbour. The shock waves rippled to the shores of the town sleeping in the sun on Australia’s remote north-west coast.

‘It’s hard to take in. I just keep thinking of Yoshi and Taki and their families back there and all the wonderful times we had here,’ said Olivia with tears in her eyes.

‘It’s going to be bloody difficult for our Japs here. Think I’ll pop down to the Conti and see what’s going on.’

Olivia gave him a fond look. ‘That pub is going to be busier than the War Cabinet.’

Knowing where to find the key men in town, the Resident Magistrate arrived at the Continental looking grim. He joined the group on the verandah with Tyndall. ‘Bad business this. Just got the news we have to round up the Japs.’

‘Our fellows? Half of them are still at sea on the luggers.’

‘They could be halfway to Japan by now,’ joked one of the men, who then quickly lapsed into silence at
his faux pas.

‘What are you supposed to do with them? Send them back? I don’t reckon they’ll want to go,’ said Tyndall.

‘They have to be arrested.’ The RM sighed. ‘Seems damned silly. I doubt these fellows are a threat to the country. Besides, there’s not enough room in the gaol.’

‘Who’s going to tell them?’ asked Tyndall quietly.

The RM looked at Tyndall, the most senior and most respected of the pearling masters. ‘I was rather hoping you would.’

Tyndall dressed in his whites with care, buttoning up his collar, tightly tying the laces on his freshly whitened shoes, pulled on his skipper’s hat, and with a heavy heart joined the Police Sergeant at the main wharf. Word had been sent from the RM that all Japanese nationals should assemble.

There were close to one hundred and fifty men gathered about the waterfront.

‘Good afternoon, Sergeant MacIntyre. What’s the procedure here?’ asked Tyndall.

‘I understand the RM has briefed you. So if you want to make the announcement, we’ll take it from there.’

Tyndall nodded and walked slowly towards the front of the group. The son of Takahashi, who had been elected spokesman, detached himself and came forward.

Tyndall removed his hat and put it under his arm. ‘Good-day Takahashi san. You have heard the news, I take it?’