The Pride of the Peacock (24 page)

Grete said that luncheon would be served in a few moments so Joss rolled up the cases. As he did so we heard the sound of horses’ hoofs on the road below.

^7

“He’s here,” said Kurt van der Stel.

“I’ll be interested to see him,” said Joss.

“Perhaps he’ll be able to give me some news about what’s going on at the Fancy.”

A man mounted the steps to the terrace and Joss rose and shook hands with him.

“It’s good to see you, David,” he said.

“You too. Joss.” The newcomer shook hands with Kurt and as he did so Joss drew me forward.

“I want you to meet my wife,” he said.

The man ‘found it difficult to hide his astonishment.

“Jessica, this is David Croissant,” said Joss.

I had heard that name before. David Croissant, the merchant who knew more about the quality of opals than any other. He was not tall, and his dark hair grew low on his forehead, meeting in the centre in what we called a ‘widow’s peak’. He had light eyes which because of his general darkness gave him an unusual appearance, and those eyes, I noticed, were too closely set together.

“You’ve not heard about Ben,” said Joss. David Croissant looked startled and Joss told him.

“Good God!” said David Croissant.

“I had no idea. Ben … old Ben!”

“We shall, all miss him sadly,” said Kurt.

“What bad luck,” murmured David Croissant.

“If he’d still got the Flash you’d think it was that. I wonder what happened to Desmond Dereham. He disappeared off the face of the earth. He went to some outlandish place, I don’t doubt. Perhaps he’ll escape the bad luck.”

“Why should he?” asked Grete.

“Some say there’s evil in that stone and if that were so it might favour someone who stole it.”

“What a crazy idea,” said Joss.

“I’m surprised at you, David, an opal man, talking such nonsense. Ill luck! For heaven’s sake let’s put a stop to all that talk. It’s not good for business.”

He flashed me a warning look, which told me that he did not want me to mention the fact that the Green Rash had not been stolen. I wondered why and felt resentful that my father should go on being accused of stealing something which at the very most he had only attempted to.

However, I was unsure of myself and remained silent.

“It’s true,” said Kurt.

“Who’s going to buy opals if they’re considered unlucky?”

“Lucky! Unlucky!” said Joss vehemently.

“It’s a lot of non sense. Long ago opals were the good luck stones and

then it was discovered that tney coma somenmes dc Dnme ana uus talk of bad luck started.”

“What have you brought to show us, David?” asked Kurt.

“Ah,” replied David, ‘some stones that will make you dance with joy.

There’s one in particular. “

let’s see it,” said Joss.

“Mind you,” answered David, ‘it’s not cheap. “

“If it’s what you’re implying who’d expect it to be?” retorted Joss.

When I saw the Harlequin Opal I had my first real understanding of the fascination a stone could convey. It was aptly named. There seemed so many colours which changed as one watched. There was a gaiety about that stone. It definitely had a quality which even I could recognize.

“You’re right,” said Joss.

“It’s a beauty.”

“I only know of one stone I’d compare it with.”

Ttow we’re back to the Green Flash,” retorted Joss.

“You can’t expect anything to compare with that’ ” Of course not. But this is superb. “

“I wonder you’re not afraid to travel around with it,” “I only show it to people I know. I keep it apart from the rest. I’m not going to tell you my secret hiding place. How do I know you might not turn bushranger?”

That’s wise of you,” said Joss. He held out the stone to me. Take a look at that, Jessica.”

I held it in the palm of my hand and I felt a reluctance to let it go.

“You see the beauty of it?” said Joss eagerly.

“Not a flaw in it. Look at those colours and the size…”

“Don’t praise it too much. joss,” begged Kurt.

“You’re putting the price up. Not that I’m going to bid for it. I know I can’t afford it.”

“I’ve others you’ll like, Kurt,” said David Croissant. Til put Harlequin away or she’ll outshine everything else. “

I was still staring at the stone I held.

“You see,” said David, ‘your wife doesn’t want to lose it” ” She’s beginning to understand something about opals. That’s true, eh, Jessica? “

“I’m very ignorant,” I said, handing the stone back to David, ‘but at least I’m aware that I know nothing about them. “

“Which is the first lesson,” answered Joss.

“So you’ve mastered that.”

We looked at the other opals as David Croissant unrolled case after case and Joss explained the properties of each to me.

men suddenly ne looKea ai ms waicn. we must go, unless we are going to miss the ship. I’ll see you in Australia, David. I dare say you’ll be coming back soon. “

“As soon as I can. One or two calls to make and then it’s the next ship back.”

So we said goodbye and our horse-drawn carriage which had been waiting for us took us back to the ship.

There were long days in calm waters when the ship seemed to move hardly at all. I would sit on deck with Joss and we would talk desultorily while we sipped cool drinks. There was a quality about these days which suggested erroneously that they would go on like this for ever. Now and then we would see a school of porpoises or dolphins sporting in the water and the flying-fishes rising from the deep blue depths to flutter on its surface. Once an albatross followed the ship for three days, and we would lie back in our chairs watching the infinite grace and calculate the immense strength of that twelve-foot span of wing as it circled above us.

Even my desire to discover the truth of my father’s disappearance receded. This was peace, and I wondered whether Joss felt it too.

We would sit on deck until sunset, which was about seven o’clock, and it was fascinating to experience the quick descent of twilight. How different from home where the subdued light lingers for a long time after the sun has set. Here it was bright day with that great ball of fire shedding its heat upon us until it sank into the sea, followed by almost immediate darkness.

The sunsets were superb and one night Joss said: “In waters such as this we could see the green flash.”

So each night we sat there and we were all hoping for a glimpse of it.

Anxiously we would scan the sky for the signs.

“Everything has to be perfect for it.” Joss explained.

“No clouds, the sea calm, every little detail has to be just right.”

Each evening when we sat there I would say: “Will it be tonight?”

“Who shall say?” answered Joss.

“One sits and waits as for an important visitor. If it comes and you are not watching for it with your complete attention, you’ll miss it. Don’t forget it’s there in a flash and gone again. If you blink an eye you’d miss it.”

It had become a fetish with us. Joss had seen it of course but, he admitted, only once.

“And I’ve been where it could be many a time,” he told us.

“And only once was 1 honoured.” So each evening at sunset we watched-but we waited in vain. The natural phenomenon was as elusive as its namesake.

We were on deck as we sailed into Bombay and before us lay a wonderful panorama of mountainous islands and away to the east the gently swaying palm trees and high peaks of the Western Ghat Mountains. Here was the gateway to India.

Joss and I spent an exhilarating morning in exotic surroundings, the like of which I had never seen before. How beautiful the women were in their brilliantly coloured saris, but the contrast between them and the multitudes of beggars who surrounded us appalled us, touching our pleasure with a depression created by such horror. We gave to the beggars, but the more we gave the more seemed to gather around us, and we had in the end to turn away from those big pleading eyes and little up stretched brown hands.

We had stopped to watch a group of women washing then-clothes in the river, but because of the beggars we returned to our gaily coloured mule-drawn carriage and left the river. But I could not get them out of my mind.

We were taken to a market where there were stalls of the most exciting merchandise and voluble salesmen, eager to sell their wares. There were beautiful carpets, all kinds of objects in carved wood, ivory and brass; and we were fascinated.

The bright black eyes of one of the salesmen were on us.

“You give a little present, eh?” he suggested.

“To show love … to bring good luck.”

I hesitated and Joss whispered: “He’s going to be very disappointed if we don’t.”

This lady, very lucky,” said the salesman.

“It was ivory charm. The goddess of good fortune … talisman against evil. ” I’m going to buy that for you,” I said. The Green Flash is yours now… you may need it. ” It’s partly yours too and to show that I don’t believe in bad luck I’m going to buy you that cherry-coloured silk to make a gown. “

So we made our purchases with the minimum of bargaining for, said Joss, the salesman would be disappointed if we did not haggle a little.

I felt as we walked away that that incident seemed to imply that our relationship was changing.

We had a light luncheon and during it I asked him why he had allowed

David Croissant to believe that the Green Flash was snii missing ana main naa oeen sioien ay my lamer.

There’s always a great deal of speculation about that stone,” said Joss.

“And David’s a talker. I don’t want people talking about it until I have it secure. I think that’s the wise thing to do.”

And I did not feel I could argue with him on that score. After luncheon we drove in the carriage to the, impressive Rajabai Tower built in the fourteenth century and went up Malabar Hill to Malabar Point. We paused by the Tower of Silence where, so our driver told us, the Parsees disposed of their dead according to their religious tradition, which was to leave the bodies to the sun, the weather, and the birds.

“No woman is allowed in,” we were told.

“Why not?” I asked.

“Why should they be excluded?” The driver could not understand us, for his English was limited, but Joss replied: The inferior sex, you know. ” That’s quite absurd,” I retorted hotly. I could see he was pleased to have arouse^ my indignation, and the change in our relationship which I had fancied I detected had evaporated. We were back to where we had started.

As we were approaching the end of our journey, a restraint had grown up between us. Joss was often thoughtful, and once or twice I caught him regarding me intently.

We continued to sit on deck together in the evenings at sunset. We would sit in silence watching the great ball of fire slipping down to the horizon.

When we did. ” talk we often mentioned Ben. Joss quoted him frequently.

It was clear that he had been greatly influenced by him throughout his life.

“Do you think we’ll see the real green flash one day?” I asked.

“Perhaps. Though there’s not much time left. You have to wait for it.

I believe some people imagine they’ve seen it. “

“Are you one of those? ” Not I. I’m much too practical. I don’t have day dreams. “

“Perhaps it might be better if you did.”

“Why should one want to indulge in fancy when there’s :::

reality all around one? ” ” It shows imagination. “

He laughed at me. I knew he enjoyed laughing at me, proving to me that I was young, inexperienced of life and somewhat foolish. ;

Once he said: “Ben used to say love comes quickly in a flash sometimes, but you have to recognize it for the real thing. Lots of people think they’ve found it because they want to. That’s how it is with the green flash. They want to have seen it so they delude themselves into thinking they have.”

“I can assure you that I never delude myself.”

He went on: “Look at the sun. There are opal lights in the sky today.

Look at that touch of yellow over there . with the blue. I found an opal just like that once. We called it The Primrose because someone fancied he saw the shape of the flower there. In half an hour the sun will be going down. Who knows? Tonight we could see it It’s a night for the green flash. “

We sat there watching.

“Any minute now,” said Joss.

“How bright it is! It’s as though it wants to blind you so that you’ll miss it. Be careful. Be sure you don’t blink.”

The great red ball low on the horizon was dipping into the water-now only half of it was visible, now less and then just that red rim.

“Now!” whispered Joss; and there was a quick intake of breath to indicate disappointment, for the sun had completely disappeared below the horizon, and neither of us had seen the green flash.

6.

THE BURNED-OUT INN

There was great exdtement on board when we approached the land, and I don’t think there was one passenger who was not on deck looking out with eager, fascinated eyes. And it was a sight worth looking at, for I suppose there is no harbour in the world to compare with Sydney’s.

The Captain had given me a book in which I had read of the arrival of the first fleet there. I wondered what the convicts had felt when they stepped ashore after months of confinement in the noisome hold of a ship to find themselves surrounded by so much that was beautiful. In those days the scene would have been made more colourful by the brilliantly plum aged birds-parakeets, love birds, and those delicately coloured galahs with the exquisite mingling grey and pink of their feathers, all of

wnicn i was to see later. ‘ll was uuicicin uuw. uuiiuiuga ucn. sprung up where beautiful wild flowers had grown and th birds had retreated inland. They had named the place afta Lord Sydney, the Secretary of State for the Home Department Captain Arthur Philip, the first governor of the new colony who had had a port named after him, had declared that hen was ‘the finest harbour in the world in which a thousand sail of the line might ride in the most perfect security’.