The Light Between Oceans (21 page)

‘Poor Hannah never recovered,’ sighed Hilda. ‘Her father only persuaded her to put up the memorial a few months ago.’ She paused as she pulled her gloves up. ‘Funny how lives turn out, isn’t it? Born to more money than you can shake a stick at; went all the way to Sydney University to get a degree in something or other; married the love of her life – and you see her now sometimes, wandering about, like she’s got no home to go to.’

Now, Isabel felt plunged into ice, as the flowers on the memorial taunted her, threatened her with the closeness of the mother’s presence. She leaned against a tree, dizzy.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ asked Hilda, concerned at the sudden change in her colour.

‘Yes. It’s just the heat. I’ll be all right in a minute.’

The heavy jarrah doors swung open and the vicar stepped out of the church. ‘All ready for the big day, then?’ he asked, wincing at the light.

‘We’ve got to say something! Now! Call off the christening …’ Tom’s voice was low and urgent as he faced Isabel in the vestry while Bill and Violet showed off their granddaughter to the guests in the church.

‘Tom, we can’t.’ Her breath was shallow and her face was pale. ‘It’s too late!’ she said.

‘We have to put this right! We have to tell people, now.’

‘We can’t!’ Still reeling, she cast about for any words that made
sense.
‘We can’t do that to Lucy! We’re the only parents she’s ever known. Besides, what would we say? That we suddenly remembered I didn’t actually have a baby?’ Her face turned grey. ‘What about the man’s body? It’s all gone too far.’ Every instinct told her to buy time. She was too confused, too terrified to do anything else. She tried to sound calm. ‘We’ll talk about it later. Right now we have to go through with the christening.’ A shaft of light caught the sea-green irises of her eyes, and Tom could see the fear in them. She took a step towards him and he sprang back, as if they were opposing magnets.

The vicar’s footsteps rose above the murmur of the guests in the church as he approached. Tom’s head spun. ‘
In sickness and in health. For better, for worse
.’ The words, uttered by him in this church years earlier, thudded in his skull.

‘All ready for you,’ beamed the vicar.

‘Hath this child already been baptised or no?’ began Reverend Norkells. Those gathered at the font replied, ‘No.’ Alongside Tom and Isabel, Ralph stood as godfather, Isabel’s cousin Freda as godmother.

The godparents held candles and intoned the answers to the vicar’s questions: ‘Dost thou, in the name of this child, renounce the devil and all his works …?’

‘I renounce them all,’ the godparents replied in unison.

As the words echoed off the sandstone walls, Tom looked sternly at his shiny new boots and concentrated on a burning blister on his heel.

‘Wilt thou then obediently keep God’s holy will and commandments …?’

‘I will.’

With each promise, Tom flexed his foot against the stiff leather, immersing himself in the pain.

Lucy seemed mesmerised by the fireworks of the stained-glass
windows,
and it occurred to Isabel, even in her turmoil, that the child had never seen such brilliant colours.

‘Oh merciful God, grant that the old Adam in this child may be so buried, that the new man may be raised up in her …’

Tom thought of the unmarked grave on Janus. He saw the face of Frank Roennfeldt as he had covered it with canvas – detached, expressionless – leaving Tom to be his own accuser.

Outside, the noise of children playing French cricket in the church playground peppered the air with thwacks and cries of ‘Owzat?’ In the second row of pews, Hilda Addicott whispered to her neighbour, ‘Look, Tom’s got a tear in his eye. Now that’s a soft heart for you. He may look a great rock of a man, but it’s a real soft heart he’s got.’

Norkells took the child into his arms and said to Ralph and Freda, ‘Name this child.’

‘Lucy Violet,’ they said.

‘Lucy Violet. I baptise thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost,’ said the priest, pouring water on the head of the little girl, who let out a shriek of protest, soon accompanied by Mrs Rafferty coaxing ‘Crimond’ out of the decrepit wooden organ.

Before the service had finished, Isabel excused herself and hurried to the outhouse at the end of the path. The small brick space was as hot as an oven, and she shooed away flies before leaning over to retch violently. A gecko clung to the wall, watching her in silence. When she pulled the chain it scampered up to the tin roof, to safety. As she rejoined her parents, she said weakly, ‘Upset tummy,’ to head off her mother’s enquiries. Holding out her arms for Lucy, she hugged her so tight that the child put her hands to Isabel’s chest and levered herself away a little.

At the christening lunch at the Palace Hotel, Isabel’s father sat at the table with Violet, who was wearing her blue cotton shift with the
white
lace collar. Her corset was pinching, and the bun into which she had tidied her hair was giving her a headache. She was determined, however, that nothing would spoil this day – the christening of her first and, she now understood from Isabel, her only grandchild.

‘Tom doesn’t seem his usual self, does he, Vi? Not usually much of a drinker, but he’s on the whisky today.’ Bill shrugged, as if to convince himself. ‘Just wetting the baby’s head, I suppose.’

‘I think it’s just nerves – such a big day. Isabel’s come over all touchy too. Probably that tummy trouble.’

Over at the bar with Tom, Ralph said, ‘That little girl’s made all the difference to your missus, hasn’t she? She’s like a new woman.’

Tom turned his empty glass round and round in his hands. ‘It’s brought out a different side of her, all right.’

‘When I think back to how she lost the baby …’

Tom gave an imperceptible start, but Ralph went on, ‘… that first time. It was like seeing a ghost when I came out to Janus. And the second was worse.’

‘Yeah. They were hard times for her.’

‘Oh well, God comes good in the end, doesn’t he?’ Ralph smiled.

‘Does he, Ralph? He can’t come good for everyone, can he? Couldn’t come good for Fritz as well as us, say …’

‘That’s no way to be talking, boy. He’s come good for you!’

Tom loosened his tie and collar – suddenly the bar felt stifling.

‘You all right, mate?’ asked Ralph.

‘Stuffy in here. Think I’ll go for a bit of a wander.’ But outside was no better. The air seemed solid, like molten glass that suffocated him rather than letting him breathe.

If he could talk to Isabel alone, calmly … Things would be all right. It could be all right, somehow. He drew himself up, taking a deep breath, and walked slowly back into the hotel.

‘She’s fast asleep,’ said Isabel as she closed the door to the bedroom, where the child lay surrounded by pillows to keep her from rolling off the edge of the bed. ‘She was so good today. Got through the whole christening, with all those people. Only cried when she got wet.’ As the day went on, her voice had lost the tremor it had acquired with Hilda’s revelation.

‘Oh, she’s an angel,’ said Violet, smiling. ‘I don’t know what we’ll do with ourselves when she goes back tomorrow.’

‘I know. But I promise I’ll write, and tell you all her news,’ Isabel said, and gave a sigh. ‘We’d better turn in, I suppose. Got to be up at the crack of dawn for the boat. Coming, Tom?’

Tom gave a nod. ‘Night, Violet. Night, Bill,’ he said, and left them to their jigsaw puzzle as he followed Isabel into the bedroom.

It was the first time they had been alone together all day, and as soon as the door was closed, he demanded, ‘When are we going to tell them?’ His face was tight, his shoulders stiff.

‘We’re not,’ replied Isabel, in an urgent whisper.

‘What do you mean?’

‘We need to think, Tom. We need time. We have to leave tomorrow. All hell will break loose if we say anything, and you’re supposed to be back on duty tomorrow night. We’ll work out what to do once we get back to Janus. We mustn’t rush into something we’ll regret.’

‘Izz, there’s a woman here in town who thinks her daughter’s dead when she’s alive; who doesn’t know what happened to her husband. God knows what she’s been through. The sooner we put her out of her misery—’

‘It’s all such a shock. We have to do the right thing, not just by Hannah Potts, but by Lucy as well. Please, Tom. Neither of us can think straight at the moment. Let’s take this slowly. Right now, let’s just try to get a bit of sleep before the morning.’

‘I’ll turn in later,’ he said. ‘I need some fresh air,’ and he slipped quietly out on to the back verandah, ignoring Isabel’s plea to stay.

Outside it was cooler, and Tom sat in the darkness in a cane chair, his head in his hands. Through the kitchen window, he could hear the clack-clack as Bill put the last pieces of the jigsaw back into its wooden box. ‘Isabel seems so keen to get back to Janus. Says she’s not good with crowds any more,’ Bill said as he put the lid on. ‘You’d be hard pressed to muster a real crowd this side of Perth.’

Violet was trimming the wick of the kerosene lamp. ‘Well, she always was highly strung,’ she mused. ‘Between you and me, I think she just wants to have Lucy all to herself.’ She sighed. ‘It’ll be quiet without the little one around.’

Bill put his arm around Violet’s shoulders. ‘Brings back memories, doesn’t it? Remember Hugh and Alfie when they were tots? Grand little fellas, they were.’ He chuckled. ‘Remember that time they shut the cat in the cupboard for days?’ He paused. ‘It’s not the same, I know, but being a grandfather’s the next best thing, isn’t it? The next best thing to having the boys back.’

Violet lit the lamp. ‘There were times I didn’t think we’d get through it all, Bill. Didn’t think we could ever have another day’s happiness.’ She blew out the match. ‘Such a blessing, at last.’ Replacing the glass shade, she guided the way to bed.

The words reverberated in Tom’s mind as he breathed in the night jasmine, its sweetness oblivious to his desperation.

CHAPTER 16

THE FIRST NIGHT
back on Janus, the wind howled around the lantern room, pushing at the thick panes of glass in the tower, testing for some weak spot. As Tom lit up, his mind went over and over the argument he had had with Isabel as soon as the store boat had left.