The Forgotten Pearl (11 page)

‘Come on, Poppy,' urged Cecilia, taking her daughter's hand and squeezing it. ‘Let's go home.'

10

Farewell

A loud rapping on the front door announced the arrival of a harried warden, his uniform already drenched in sweat. He carried an officious-looking list several pages long that was crisscrossed with pencil marks. Honey barked loudly in warning, her hackles raised.

‘Is your mother home, Poppy?' asked the warden.

‘I'll just fetch her,' she replied, feeling a sudden headache coming on. ‘She's in the kitchen.'

Honey stood guard over the warden until Poppy and her mother returned. The dog ran to Poppy, her tail wagging enthusiastically now that her job protecting the family was done. Poppy leant against the verandah post, anxious to know what the man had to say.

‘Good morning, Mr Anderson,' Cecilia said. ‘What can I do for you?'

‘G'day, Mrs Trehearne,' the warden replied, tipping his helmet at her. ‘As you know, we've begun evacuating the
women and children. Two hundred odd left yesterday on the
Koolinda
. Tomorrow, more than five hundred leave on the
Zealandia
, and you and your daughters are on the list.'

Poppy breathed in deeply. This was the news she had been dreading.

‘Each person can take one calico bag of toiletries, plus a small suitcase of clothing weighing no more than thirty-five pounds, two blankets and a waterbag,' explained the warden. ‘You can't take any other personal effects. I also need to remind you that all domestic pets are to be destroyed before you leave. We don't have the food or the manpower to feed them after you've gone.'

‘No!' Poppy wailed, dropping to her knees and burying her head on Honey's back. Tears streamed down her face and into Honey's fur.
Destroy Honey and Coco and Christabel and all the other animals? That's impossible. I could never let them do that.

‘I'm sorry, Poppy,' apologised the warden, ‘but those are the orders. It's war and we have to do what's best for the country.'

How could destroying Honey be good for my country?
thought Poppy.

Cecilia squeezed Poppy's shoulder gently to give her courage. ‘Thank you, Mr Anderson, but my daughters and I won't be requiring those places on the ship tomorrow,' she replied firmly. ‘We are happy to give them up to other evacuees who have a greater need to leave.'

The warden frowned, tapping his pencil against his clipboard. ‘You'll have to go at some stage, Mrs Trehearne. The top brass want all civilians out of Darwin to free up supplies and infrastructure for the military.'

‘I thought it was a noble gesture to save women and children first?' asked Cecilia with a wry smile.

‘That too,' he said, pushing his helmet back on his head.

‘Don't worry,' Cecilia assured him. ‘I'm a trained nurse and will be working in an essential service at the hospital.'

‘What about your daughters?' he challenged. ‘All children
have
to go.'

‘My daughters are no longer children, thanks to the war,' Cecilia replied. ‘They are budding young women and have a right and a responsibility to help their country, too.'

Cecilia smiled at the warden warmly. ‘I know you're just doing your job, Mr Anderson, but surely there are pregnant women, mothers with young children and people who are old and sick who should go before us?'

The warden sighed in defeat and reluctantly crossed out their names. ‘All right,' he conceded. ‘I'll put you down on one of the later ships.'

The warden trudged next door to the Tibbets's house.

Cecilia gave Poppy a huge hug. Poppy relaxed against her mother's chest, breathing in her soft, familiar scent.

‘Don't worry, Poppy darling,' her mother soothed. ‘We'll find a way to stay as long as we can.'

That evening, Poppy found her father sitting on the verandah in his favourite white wicker chair, staring out north over the Arafura Sea. Thick, grey clouds boiled on the horizon, bloodied by the setting sun. Lightning crackled
and flashed. A pile of medical reports lay unread on the table beside him. Her father looked tired and suddenly much older, with dark circles under his eyes and streaks of grey in his hair that she hadn't noticed before.

‘Come and join me, Poppy,' he invited, gesturing to the chair next to him. ‘I'm taking a break from my paperwork. How have you been? I don't feel like I've spoken to you for days. It's been so busy at the hospital.'

The cheerful voices of the Andrews Sisters crooning ‘Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy' drifted out from the record player in the sitting room. Basil the diamond python slithered down the verandah post and set off across the floorboards, searching for a tasty meal.

‘I'm fine,' replied Poppy, sitting down. Honey flopped at her feet, panting.

‘I heard that Maude and her mother are leaving on the
Zealandia
tomorrow, sailing back to Sydney,' Mark said.

‘Hmmm.' Poppy scuffed her shoe back and forth on the floorboards.

‘Shouldn't you be over there helping Maude pack?' asked Mark, raising his eyebrow.

Poppy examined the toe of her shoe, streaked with mud. ‘Perhaps,' she replied.

‘Did you have a fight with Maude or something?' asked Mark. ‘I haven't seen her around for a few days. Not since just after the air-raid alarm.'

‘No, well – sort of.' Poppy leant down to stroke Honey. ‘Maude said she was hoping we'd be evacuated together. She wanted me to go and stay with her in Sydney. She said she was looking forward to showing me everything in Manly. I told her I didn't want to go . . . Actually, I told
her I was sick of hearing how beautiful everything is in Manly.'

Poppy flushed. She felt ashamed of snapping at her friend.

‘Ah, I see,' replied Mark. ‘So, how do you feel about that?'

‘Well, kind of stupid really.'

Mark leant over and kissed Poppy on the forehead. ‘Why don't you pop across and see how Maude is going with that packing?' he suggested. ‘She can't take much, so she may need help working out what to leave behind. It might make both of you feel better to have a chat before the ship leaves tomorrow.'

Mark smiled at her.

Poppy thought a moment, then jumped up from her chair and raced to the stairs, Honey chasing.

Next door, she found Maude sitting in the middle of her bedroom floor, surrounded by clothes, books, papers and shoes. A small suitcase lay open with a few items folded neatly in the bottom.

‘Oh.' Maude tossed her head and busied herself with folding a navy dress.

‘Hi, Maude.' Poppy twisted her pearl nervously. ‘I just wanted to come by and say sorry . . . I'm sorry about what I said the other day.'

Maude bit her lip and shook out the dress, folding it again more precisely.

‘I just didn't want to think about leaving
Darwin . . . leaving home,' Poppy confessed. ‘I didn't mean what I said about Sydney. I guess I'm scared . . . '

Maude nodded, placing the dress in the bag. ‘Me too. I guess we're all scared.'

Poppy made a space on the floor among the clothing and plopped down next to Maude.

‘Of course I'd love to come and visit you in perfect Manly sometime,' joked Poppy, pulling a comic face. ‘Just so long as you're not embarrassed to introduce me to all your city-slicker friends.'

Maude grinned. ‘Apology accepted. My friends would love you – as long as you don't wear those horrible gumboots of yours.'

Poppy leant over and gave Maude a quick hug. ‘Now, what are you going to take? We don't want all your fancy city friends to think you've lost your sense of fashion up here in the wilderness – you'd be ostracised!'

Poppy picked up one of Maude's straw hats and perched it on top of her own unruly curls, pouting as though she was a sultry film star.

‘Good point,' agreed Maude. ‘I'll take that, but I don't think I'll be needing my gumboots anymore.'

Poppy laughed, tossing the hat in the suitcase.

The girls chatted about film and music and what they'd like for Christmas as they sorted through Maude's clothes.

‘I guess you'll be having Christmas on the ship?' asked Poppy. ‘That won't be much fun.'

‘Mmmm,' agreed Maude. ‘Look at this.' She held up a soiled white dress. ‘It's the dress I wore the very first time I met you. Mrs Murata could never get the mud stains out of it!'

‘What a shame. Leave that behind.'

‘No.' Maude folded the dress up carefully and lowered it into the rapidly filling suitcase. ‘I'll keep it – it'll remind me of you and all the adventures we've had together in Darwin.'

Poppy grinned and squeezed Maude's hand.

‘By the way, Poppy, Dad mentioned something today. The Japanese internees are being sent south tomorrow on the
Zealandia
as well. The Muratas should be on that ship. I thought you'd like to know.'

Poppy winced at the reminder of the Murata family, who had been arrested just eleven days ago. ‘Where are they going?'

Maude shrugged. ‘An internment camp somewhere down south – probably New South Wales.'

Poppy tried to close the now overflowing suitcase. Maude sat on top of the case, squashing it down. It still wouldn't fasten. Poppy pushed Maude off.

‘Sorry, old girl,' Poppy sighed, ‘I think we're going to have to unpack and start again.'

At dinner that night, Bryony made an announcement. She stood inside the dining room door, wearing a floral cotton dress, her hair pulled back into a green velvet snood. She looked pale and determined, her hands twisted together nervously.

‘Mum and Dad, there's something I want to tell you,' she declared. ‘I've decided that I'm going to sail on the
Zealandia
tomorrow.'

‘What?' cried Poppy. ‘Are you insane?'

Cecilia breathed deeply.

‘Are you sure, Bryony?' asked Mark. ‘What are you planning to do?'

Bryony stood up and squared her shoulders.

‘I've decided I want to go to Sydney and train to help in the war effort.'