Tears of the Moon (62 page)

‘Goodness, it must have been a really amazing experience. I mean you were fresh out from England, alone in what must have seemed like the end of the world. I really find it hard to imagine you sitting in that scrub, pregnant, waving a gun at Dad.’

They both laughed, then Maya went on to vaguely describe some of the ceremonies that took place at the sacred site of the women, choosing her words carefully and avoiding detail. ‘It was all for me, Olivia, all to make me totally one of them, one of the family, and with every hour memories of my childhood with them came flooding back. Those dreams I used to have in Albany as a kid, they weren’t dreams, but reality. I remembered places, words, names, recognised relatives and even some of the children I played with. They remembered me too. It was just so strange and exciting. And that night, back at the camp we danced in the light of the campfire.’

Olivia couldn’t conceal her astonishment. ‘You danced!’

‘Yes. I just
had
to. Something in me just took over and I had to dance. I was one of them. It was the proper thing to do.’

Olivia recalled the times she had seen the Aboriginal women dancing at missions and the occasional events staged for visiting government officials,
but she had some difficulty putting Maya in the same picture. ‘You danced … in bare feet and … ’

‘Yes.’

Olivia gasped. ‘Maya, I can’t believe it. Weren’t you embarrassed?’

‘No. Can’t you see, Olivia? I was one of them. I
am
one of them. It just seemed so right, so natural to let them paint my breasts and shoulders and face, so natural to get up with them and dance. They understand that I live in another world so removed from theirs, but they know and I know, that we share a spiritual world and this is something really important. I can never deny it, Olivia, never.’

Olivia rose and they hugged. ‘I know what you’re saying, my dear Maya. I know. Thank you so much for telling me. I’m so proud of you.’

The next day the mailboat arrived and on the same tide many of the luggers returned to port, now towed in line behind a small steam tug. Maya and Olivia were there to welcome them back and Tyndall boldly jumped down from the gunwale onto the wharf even before the first mooring line had been thrown to envelop them both in a big hug. ‘My dear girls! I can’t tell you how my heart feels to see you both!’

‘How was the trip? Any pearls?’ asked Maya.

‘All in good time,’ Tyndall winked at Olivia. ‘And, my beauty, what news do you have? How is that scallywag granddaughter of ours?’

‘Raising merry cain at school. The Sisters say they’ve never had such a handful.’

Maya raised her hands. ‘I give up. Trouble is her middle name.’

‘We have to bribe her with threats of not being a flower girl at the wedding,’ added Olivia with a loving smile.

‘
Our
wedding?
The
wedding? At long last?’ Tyndall clutched his brow. ‘How can I wait?’

‘You’ll wait. Now tell us, John, how was the trip?’

Stepping between them, Tyndall linked arms and together they almost danced along the jetty. ‘Tremendous. Hit a great patch of old shell. And, if I’m any judge, Toby is going to be very busy and Monsieur Barat very pleased.’

The postwar years were living up to expectations as a time of profit, progress and fun. There was an intensity of living that made everyone buoyant. The industry was booming again after the wartime slump, mechanical advances had brought engines for boats, cars to town and even a truck for the bush mailman, though anyone travelling north or south overland was considered a bit mad. The Bristols now flying an air service were faster, although their schedule was unpredictable. All this and the joy of having Tyndall back in port made Olivia feel like a young girl again, and with an enthusiastic Maya at her side she threw herself into the wedding preparations.

She was working on the invitation list on the verandah one morning when Stan announced that there was a ‘bloke from Alf’ at the back door. The ‘bloke’ was a young black from the mission at Beagle Bay, in town with one of the Brothers helping with
shopping for supplies. ‘Me Tommy, missus. Alf told me t’give ya message.’

‘Thank you, Tommy,’ acknowledged Olivia.

‘Alf says he found grave bilong Niah. Says ya would understand.’

Olivia was stunned. Her hand went to her mouth to control her shock. ‘Tommy, can you tell me anything else? How does Alf know this?’

‘Me an’ Alf cuttin’ in old cemetery and he see some shell on a stone an’ ask the Brother. He lookit up in some book.’ The boy bobbed his head to reinforce his words. ‘Alf sure. Said youse were t’tell everyone.’

‘Yes, of course. I understand. Please give my thanks to Alf. Does he need anything up there, Tommy?’

‘Nope. He doin’ good, missus. For an old fella.’

Olivia broke the news to Tyndall and Maya when they came in laughing and exhilarated, after a day at the foreshore camp.

Tyndall took Maya’s hand. ‘I’ve always wanted to know … what happened … ’

‘I must go to her,’ whispered Maya, looking at her father.

‘Of course. We both must. We’ll go together. The weather is good. We’ll sail up to Beagle Bay. Olivia … ’

‘Of course you two must go as soon as possible. Just the two of you,’ urged Olivia.

Although they didn’t say it out loud, both Tyndall and Olivia realised the circle was closing, the loose
ends being tied up before making their own commitment to each other.

Tyndall and Maya rowed to the rocky shore and walked through the scrub along a sandy track to the mission. Alf was sitting on an old chair on the verandah of a small shack. He greeted them with a cheerful wave, pushing himself stiffly to his feet.

‘I figured you’d be along any day. Good to see you, boss. Hey there, missy Maya.’

Maya gave him a hug. ‘How’re you managing up here, Alf?’

‘Good. Real good. Plenty t’do, they serve up decent meals in the mess hut over there. Lotsa friends.’

‘Mem sends her best. We’ll be getting married in a couple of weeks. Want to come down to the big day, Alf? Come with us and we’ll get you back here somehow.’

Alf rubbed his thinning, but still shiny, black hair. ‘I dunno ‘bout that. But I’m real pleased t’hear. Minnie would’ve been there with bells on.’

‘She’ll be there in spirit, we don’t doubt that.’ Tyndall took the old man’s arm. ‘Now how about we find the Brother and get him to tell us about Niah. Your young mate said you found the grave?’

‘Yeah.’ Alf pointed to Maya’s pendant. ‘Recognised that thing. The carving. It’s the same. I remembered Niah had one same as Maya. It’s all written down in the book the Brother’s got.’

They followed Alf to the whitewashed church. ‘Is it the same Brother who was here then?’ asked Maya.
‘I remember a Brother with a bald head. I’d never seen a man with no hair before.’

‘No. He went back to some country or other. Spain, I think. This is a new fella. Nice bloke.’

Brother Jean, followed by a group of young children, appeared and introduced himself. He took them into the long room where simple wooden tables and benches were set out in rows. A young Aboriginal woman brought tea, smiling shyly to them all, but eyed Maya with special interest.

Excusing himself for a few moments, Brother Jean returned with a dark brown journal and turned to an entry which briefly told the story of the arrival of the wounded girl, Brother Frederick’s attempt to nurse her to health, her deep attachment to the interior of the church with its shells, and her sad death. He believed her name to be ‘Neea’. Having no clue to her identity or family he placed the carved pendant she wore on the headstone. He passed the journal to them. ‘I will take you and your daughter there directly we have had tea.’

Brother Jean left them alone before the simple stone that marked the resting place of Niah. Tyndall stood gazing at the embedded carved shell, remembering how it had been so much a part of Niah. Maya stood beside him, one hand holding his, the other pressed to her own pendant resting close to her heart. Waves of sadness, joy, relief, and a sense of finality and strength swept over her. All the feelings she had locked away for so many years broke free and with a sob she fell to her knees and wrapped her arms
about the headstone, pressing her forehead against its cold rough surface.

Tyndall crouched beside her and gathered her in his arms. ‘Maya,’ he whispered in an effort to comfort her.

‘It’s all right, Father, really it is.’ She lifted her tear-stained face to him and smiled. ‘It’s such a relief to find her. To know … so much is coming back. I can hear her voice, singing, I remember her laugh, her holding me … ’

She cried again and Tyndall wept too, with joy and sadness. ‘Let those memories free, my dearest, listen to her voice. That way you will never lose her again.’

When they returned to Broome, Maya hugged Olivia. ‘I feel a whole person again. I know who I am. My story is complete and I can pass it on to Georgie. We’re family at last. I hope Hamish is watching all this.’

Olivia smoothed her hair. ‘I feel he is. I know his spirit is here, back in Broome. It’s where you and he first came together as little children. God, fate, the journey of life, it’s all planned, I feel.’

Olivia opened her eyes on the morning of her wedding to Tyndall and clasped her hands together and whispered, ‘Dear God, thank you for this day, for the life we will share together. After all that has gone before, let this be my time of joy. I promise to love and care for my beloved man.’

Rosminah brought in a cup of tea and opened the
shutters. ‘Look, mem, sunshine. Goin’ to be perfect day.’

Maya soon joined her, sitting up in bed beside her. ‘Your new life starts today.’

‘New? Perhaps … ’ she mused. ‘It feels so inevitable. John always insisted you only get one great love in a lifetime. Conrad and Gilbert were dear to me, but great passion, great overwhelming love … that’s rare.’

‘I know,’ said Maya softly ‘I’ll never find another Hamish. And you know, Olivia, I don’t even want to look or think about anyone else.’

‘Maya dearest, you are a young woman … it might never be the same but you shouldn’t resign yourself to a life alone … ’

Maya took Olivia’s hand. ‘You just
know
some things. And I know there will never be anyone for me but Hamish. Don’t feel sad for me. I feel so lucky to have loved him, to have Georgie and to have you.’

Olivia didn’t press the subject. She was so consumed with her own feelings of love for Tyndall. She wished every woman could feel this surging power of love and of being loved in return. ‘It’s been worth everything,’ she said and Maya, understanding, nodded and smiled.

It was a sunset wedding in the white Church of England corrugated iron church near the dunes bordering Roebuck Bay.

The bridal party walked through a huge crowd of friends and onlookers overflowing onto the struggling lawn. Japanese, Chinese, Malay, Koepangers, Aboriginals and blends of all of them, gave a small
cheer and tossed hearty comments at Captain John Tyndall, resplendent in his pearling master’s whites as he strode to the church, did a small sprint up the three wooden steps onto the portico, turned, lifted his hat in salute and took a bow.

Inside, his exuberance was more subdued and he took his place next to Ahmed at the front of the church, nervously fingering his high buttoned collar. Spotting Mollie and Stan with their little girl, he gave them a broad wink. The interior of the church was plain but Maya and Mabel had festooned it with candles and masses of flowers and branches of flowering trees. Floor to ceiling windows along the sides, normally shuttered, were thrown open to flood the church with golden light and dappled shadows of the nearby palm trees. Above the quiet murmur of the wedding guests drifted in the croak of frogs and call of a curlew.

Olivia arrived in Toby’s shiny Ford motor car which he pulled up with a flourish and opened the door to help Olivia step down.

Maya moved forward to fuss about her. ‘Olivia, you look a dream.’

She wore an ankle-length ivory guipure lace dress over mother-of-pearl silk. Matching silk roses were pinned to the side of her head and she carried a bouquet of native orchids. But what caught the eye of the crowd was the strand of pearls that gleamed against the lace. This was Tyndall’s ‘collection’, strung by Toby, who was astonished that Tyndall had managed to keep these to himself for so many years.

‘I started it for Niah and continued for Olivia in
the hope I might one day give it to her as a wedding gift,’ he told Toby.

Maya, in a turquoise dress that matched the clear brightness of the waters of the bay, followed Olivia as she walked the final steps to be united with the man she’d always loved.

The romantic atmosphere of the wedding changed to jovial exuberance at the Continental Hotel. There was a champagne reception in the gardens for what appeared to be most of Broome. Then the guests were ushered into the dining room for the official dinner. Toby, dressed in formal suit, his dark skin glistening from the heat, a smile constantly in place, made the toasts. Mabel, glittering in a red and gold sari, leaned across to Olivia. ‘I have a feeling my usually staid and sensible husband is going to over-indulge tonight.’

‘Most of the master pearlers are already well away,’ sighed Olivia.

‘There’ll be a lot of sore heads about tomorrow. But, goodness me, we all do have something to celebrate, yes?’ Mabel lifted her glass of lemonade and clinked glasses with Olivia and Maya. ‘Here’s to you and John. I am so happy to see my dearest wish come true.’