Pearls (26 page)

'I can barely afford to keep my ship at sea as it is, Wes, nae mind the cost of another diver.'

'You ain't payin' nobody nuthin' if you is dead.'

'Spare me the homespun philosophy, you big bastard. Just try and get rid of this ache, will you!'

Wes splashed on more of the oil. 'Man's a fool if he doan know when to quit.' He worked his fingers deeper into the joints and Cameron gasped with pain.

'These Japanese divers are over-rated, in my opinion.'

'So is de English.'

'I'm nae English, damn your soul, I'm a Scot!'

'You is white, an' white's white. Doan make no difference to me.'

'Jesus!' Cameron groaned again. 'How long till morning?'

'Hour mebbe. You hold on, skip?'

'Aye, I'll hold on, Wes.' He stared out of the porthole and tried to block out the pain, waiting for the first lemon stain of dawn over the sea to signal the end of this agony. He would dive in the light but the one thing that scared the life out of him was going down there in the dark. The lochs were dark, but at least there were no sharks.

Chapter 42

It seemed to Kate that they hardly ever ate alone any more. Every night there were new guests to entertain; pearl buyers, bankers, accountants, office managers with their wives. One night George invited a man named Brierley over to discuss the agency for the new airline link to Perth. He had with him a serious, silent man named Charles Kingford-Smith.

There were three other guests; Dalziel, the manager of the Commercial Union Bank, which had just opened a branch in Broome. He was ramrod-tall with a loud, braying laugh and ugly misshapen teeth. He smoked incessantly and his sole topic of conversation was banking. His wife was a curious woman, prematurely grey, with the look of someone who had just bitten down on a lemon. She said little.

The third guest was a Dutch pearler and buyer, Conrad van Heusen. He was perhaps just a couple of years younger than Kate herself, with very blond hair, and a cowlick which defied his persistent attempts to tame it. He was handsome in a boyish sort of way with deep, violet-blue eyes. Occasionally, whenever the conversation plumbed new depths of banality, he would glance at her, smiling, only to look away again if she caught him at it. His smile would immediately be replaced by a look of proper concern for the price of shell and the state of the roads.

'I'm convinced the price of shell will recover,' George was saying. 'The present hiatus is only temporary. And this talk of farming pearl shell is just so much hogwash.'

'Our bank takes the same view,' Dalziel said. 'That's why we've established a new branch here in the town. We want to give the industry the support that it needs. All the support it needs,' he repeated, making sure George had not missed the point.

'What do you think, Conrad?' George said.

The blond Dutchman shrugged his shoulders. 'I'm afraid I take a more pessimistic view,' he said.

'Oh?' George glared at him as if he had uttered a personal affront.

'I am sure the industry has not reached a state of crisis just yet. It may continue as it is for many years. But I think the boom days are gone. It will never be like it was.'

'You have only been here for three years,' George flared. 'So how would you know how it was?'

It was rude, but Conrad accepted the rebuke mildly. 'I can read. I have seen the figures for 1912 and 1913. When I compare them to my fleet's returns for the last three years I can see that the profits are not there. Besides, mother of pearl may be more beautiful than this new plastic but it is nowhere as cheap either. And a button is, after all, just a button.'

'Nonsense!'

'Perhaps, but it is my view.'

'Well as far as the Commercial and union Bank is concerned ...'

'Besides,' George said, cutting Dalziel off in mid sentence, 'plastic can never fully replace mother of pearl. A properly run fleet will always turn a profit.'

'Then you may perhaps be interested in purchasing mine.'

'You're selling up?' George looked at him, incredulous. 'You're getting out of Broome?'

Conrad raised a hand. 'Not out of Broome. Just out of pearling. I will still keep an office here as a buyer.'

A white-jacketed Kendo came into the room and began to clear away the plates. 'Bring us the port and the cigars, please,' George said.

Kate knew this was her cue to leave the table. She was usually grateful to escape George's dreary guests but tonight her alternative was Agatha Dalziel. It was a case of the Devil and the deep blue sea.

'Perhaps we should adjourn to the veranda and leave the men to their talk,' she said.

Agatha nodded her agreement and got to her feet.

'If you will excuse us, gentlemen,' Kate said.

Conrad and Dalziel rose from their seats out of courtesy. George ignored them. 'If you're really serious about your fleet ...' he was saying to Conrad.

Kate stepped out onto the veranda. It was June and the nights were cool and fresh. She took a deep breath, trying to clear her head. Her temples were drumming.

Agatha seated herself in one of the cane chairs. 'He's rather charming, don't you think?'

'I beg your pardon?'

'Mister van Heusen. A charming man.'

'Yes. Yes he is.'

'I wonder why he never married?'

'I believe he was once. I heard his wife died in Java. He managed a rubber plantation for a time.'

Agatha sighed. 'What a waste.'

Kate wondered what she meant by that; a waste that his wife had died so young; or a waste that Conrad did not have a woman?

The three men were still arguing about pearling. Kate heard George's voice raised above the others.

'I sometimes think they only marry us for the sake of appearance,' Agatha said. 'They would rather they didn't have to come home at all. They are much happier when they're at work, aren't they?'

Kate was surprised by her candour. 'Yes, it is the way it seems.'

'I should be accustomed to it by now. But one cannot help but feel a little jealous sometimes.'

'Yes, I know what you mean.' They sat in silence for a while. 'How do you find Broome?'

'It is rather a shock after Perth. But I suppose one grows accustomed to the pioneer life, one has to mix with all kinds of people. You'll never guess who called on me the other day - the McKenzie woman!'

Kate tried to look indifferent. 'Oh?'

'Imagine. I believe she used to be a barmaid.'

'Yes, before she married Cam ... Mister McKenzie.'

'Quite a handsome man, I believe. Do you know him very well?'

Something in her tone warned her that this was not an innocent enquiry. Ah, so the cat has decided to show her claws. 'He courted me many years ago.'

Agatha smiled, betraying her secret knowledge. 'Yes, a very handsome man. And a Royal Navy officer once, I believe. I wonder why he chose to marry a
barmaid
?'

'Perhaps he loved her,' Kate said.

'Love,' Agatha said. 'What a strange reason to marry, don't you think? What would ever become of a woman if she did things like that?'

Kate looked away. 'I have absolutely no idea,' she said.

***

The
Roebuck
was drifting under mizzen and jib with its number one diver down. Cameron, who had finished diving for the day, sat on the hatch, cleaning shell. He threw the mother of pearl on the deck and the muscle in a bucket of salt water. He threw the rest of the shellfish over the side for the copper fish.

'Dat Assan got him one gol' toof,' Wes growled, as he slit through the oyster in his hand with his knife. He nodded at the Malay tender in his bright scarlet sarong. 'All de girls look out for 'im now.'

'That ugly bastard?' Cameron grinned. He slit open another shell, his fingers feeling inside the greasy sac for the miracle of a pearl. 'You do all right for girls yourself, Wes,' he said.

'Nah, dey all look out for dat Assan now,' he repeated, gloomily.

'Must have cost him plenty.'

'Mebbe I get ma'self a gol' toof. Yeah, mebbe.'

'And spoil those beautiful white teeth you've got ...' Cameron stopped mid-sentence. Wes's eyes had opened wide and his jaw fell open. He thought he was about to have a fit. 'Wes, are you all right?'

Wes slowly withdrew his thumb and forefinger from the shell in his left hand and held up a truly enormous pearl. 'Mae God,' Cameron whispered.

Cameron reached up to take it. But the pearl, still greasy from the shell sac, slipped out of Wes's fingers and flicked onto the deck. He bent to pick it up but it rolled towards the scuppers.

'Grab it!' Cameron screamed to Assan. But the Malay was too slow. Before he could react the pearl bounced through the scuppers and was gone.

Wes and Assan just stood and stared, stunned by the swiftness of this tragedy. But Cameron had already launched himself, fully clothed, over the bulwark and into the water. He dived straight down. The salt stung his eyes but as his entry bubbles cleared he could still see it, gleaming in the green water, dropping away fast.

He powered down after it. He swallowed hard, but could not clear the air trapped in his ear drums. The pressure built quickly to a sharp, piercing agony but he forced himself down. He could not lose a second pearl.

He knew he would have just one chance at this. He grabbed for it and closed his fist around it. The fire in his lungs and the shrieking pain in his ears had become unbearable. He twisted in the water and struck out for the surface with his left hand, keeping the precious pearl clutched against his chest with the other.

He came up coughing, and paddled to the side of the boat. Wes reached over the side, grabbed his shirt and dragged him out of the water.

'I lose you dat one pearl?' he groaned.

Cameron shook his head. He was still choking on seawater and couldn't speak, but he opened his hand and showed him. He had his pearl. Wes grinned and hugged him. 'Hah!' he whoooped. 'Hah!'

'You all right, skip?' he said but Cameron couldn't hear him. One of his ears was bleeding. He must have ruptured an eardrum. He passed out.

Wes's first thought was to put the pearl safely in the pearl box but when he tried to unclench Cameron's fist he found that his fingers were locked around the pearl and would not open. Even unconscious, Cameron McKenzie was not about to release his ultimate prize.

Chapter 43

They had christened her Elvira, but everyone called her Elvie. During the pearling season, when Cam was away, she would go down to Buccaneer Rock every morning before school, and every afternoon on her way home, and stare hopefully out to sea for a glimpse of the
Roebuck
. Even at five years old she had the uncanny ability of knowing which one of the fleet was Cam's lugger, even when it was still miles out.

So when the
Roebuck
weighed anchor in the bay that warm August morning, she was already on the beach waiting. Cam could see her waving from the beach. He left Wes in charge of unloading the shell, jumped in one of the lifeboats and rowed for the shore.

Elvie was splashing through the shallows before he had even beached the oars. 'Pa!' she yelled and jumped into the boat, nearly spilling it over. 'Pa!'

'Elvie lass!' Cameron laughed and picked her up in his arms. She helped him drag the boat up onto the beach and then climbed up on his shoulders. Cameron bent to pick up the pearl box from the deck of the dinghy.

'Did you catch any pearls, pa?'

Cameron laughed. 'Aye, lassie, I caught myself a pearl. The biggest pearl you ever saw in your life! Let's go and tell your ma!' And he ran up the beach, the little girl bouncing on his shoulders.

***

George Niland was in a bad mood. He was accustomed to finding a freshly laundered shirt and suit laid out for him. But this morning he had been forced to wear the same clothes he had worn the day before and his suit had ochre stains on the trouser cuffs.

He blamed Kate for not organising things better. Liddy had not been seen since yesterday morning. It seemed she had succumbed to the wiles of the Debil-Debil and while Kate seemed to find her fall from grace amusing, it made the running of the house a lot more difficult. They had found a week's laundry piled up in Liddy's shack in the garden, when Kate had supposed it was at Ah Song's laundry in the Chinatown.

George tutted and fumed. He didn't blame Liddy, he told his wife - she was, after all, just a black - it was patently Kate's fault. If she had been a more competent manager she would have kept a more careful check on things.

'For God's sake, how was I to know she had it all stored up out there?'

'That's what you're here for. To know.'