The Lost Sapphire (17 page)

Violet nodded confidently and took the wheel. ‘Of course.'

Tommy showed her the compass and told her to keep the yacht pointing due south. It was harder than it sounded as the wind and waves sought to force the yacht around. With Tommy's help it was easier for the four men to pull the mainsail partly down and lash it securely. With a smaller sail area, the wind wouldn't buffet the boat as much.

Theodore returned to take the steering wheel. The crew eased the boom to starboard, the shortened mainsail bellied out, the bow swung around, and the
Mariette
began racing north before the wind.

At once the motion became smoother. For a moment, Violet felt reassured, but then she caught sight of Tommy's
face and realised they were not out of danger yet. It wasn't until an hour later, when they safely moored the yacht at St Kilda, that the tension eased.

Violet shivered on the deck as she gathered up her belongings. She was soaked, aching and exhausted, but euphoric with relief. It had indeed been quite an adventure.

Theodore turned to Tommy. ‘Good of you to help out there, old chap. I didn't realise you were such an experienced sailor.'

‘No trouble,' replied Tommy, shaking Theodore's hand. ‘My great-grandfather was a fisherman at Killybegs on the west coast of Ireland; he migrated to Australia during the potato famine. My grandfather and father were dockers at Williamstown, so we always had boats growing up.'

‘A docker?' Theodore sneered. ‘So how did the son of an Irish-Catholic dockworker end up studying medicine?'

Tommy looked embarrassed by Theodore's patronising tone. ‘Very hard-working parents and the gift of a scholarship,' he replied, lifting his chin.

‘And I'm sure you'll make a wonderful doctor,' Violet added with a warm smile.

The next day, Imogen spent the afternoon having a picnic at the beach with Audrey, Tommy and Jim, whose arm was in plaster. She returned with pink cheeks and a sparkle in her eyes. Violet was in the morning room, sketching more rough ideas for Russian scenes.

‘Was it fun?' asked Violet, putting down her pencil.

‘It was heavenly,' Imogen said and hurried towards the stairs. ‘But let me just get changed. Could you be an angel and let Mrs Darling know that Tommy will be joining us for tea?'

Violet rang the bell and gave the instructions to the housekeeper, then went upstairs to tidy her hair and change her dress. When she came down, Imogen was already sitting in the drawing room, wearing her best tea gown, her hair up in a low chignon.

A few minutes later, Saunders showed Tommy in. He
had also changed from his sporting clothes into a smart three-piece suit; his blond hair was slicked back neatly.

Sally brought the tea tray and set it on a side table. Imogen poured three cups, leaving one aside for her father. The three chatted about their day as they sipped tea and ate raspberry sponge cake with dainty silver forks. Imogen and Tommy kept smiling at each other, as if they had a tantalising secret.

Mr Hamilton came in from the hall and looked momentarily surprised when he saw they had a visitor. Tommy stood up and stepped forward.

‘O'Byrne, old chap,' said Mr Hamilton. ‘Nice of you to drop by.'

The two men shook hands.

‘Yes, sir.' Tommy looked slightly embarrassed. ‘Actually, I was hoping I might be able to have a private word with you while I'm here.'

Violet looked up at Tommy, then at Imogen, who flushed a deep rose and dropped her eyes to her lap.

‘Oh indeed?' asked Mr Hamilton, frowning. ‘Well, I suppose you had better come into the library; we can talk there.'

The two men left the room and walked across the hall. Violet heard the library door close behind them.

‘What's going on?' Violet asked. ‘Tommy seems a little fidgety this afternoon.'

Imogen jumped to her feet and went to the door, trying to make out the murmuring voices in the library. Violet put her tea cup down and followed her.

‘What are you doing?' Violet demanded. ‘You're being very mysterious.'

Imogen clutched her sister's arm tightly. ‘I think …' Imogen began, flushing even deeper. ‘I think Tommy has gone to ask Daddy for my hand … in marriage.'

Violet hugged her sister, her heart thumping with exhilaration. ‘
Truly?
Are you sure?'

‘Yes – Tommy proposed today at the beach, when we went for a walk. He says he loves me desperately and wants to get engaged.'

‘Oh, Imogen, that is simply marvellous news. I thought you two have been getting on well. So when will you get married?'

Imogen giggled, her whole face alive with happiness. ‘Not yet. Probably not for a couple of years. I'm only seven teen and Tommy has to finish his medical degree, so it will take a while before he can support me properly, but he wants to make it official.'

Violet had a sudden vision of her sister in a white satin dress and veil, her hair wreathed in flowers. ‘You'll make the most beautiful bride, Immy darling. I can't wait for the wedding – are you sure you have to wait two years?'

Imogen nodded. ‘Yes, but I thought you might like to be my bridesmaid when the time comes. You do like Tommy, don't you, Vivi?'

‘Of course, you silly. He's absolutely lovely. You'll make a perfect couple.'

The two sisters sank side by side onto the sofa, their tea forgotten, and they chattered about dreams for the future.

‘I'm so glad you like him, Violet,' Imogen said. ‘Tommy is the kindest, funniest man I've ever met.'

Just then the library door opened again and Imogen jumped to her feet. Tommy hurried into the drawing room, his face dark.

‘Tommy?' cried Imogen. ‘Whatever is the matter?'

‘My apologies, Miss Hamilton and Miss Violet,' Tommy said, his voice strained. ‘I cannot stay to finish my tea after all.'

Mr Hamilton followed on his heels. ‘I've just rung for Saunders to show you out, Mr O'Byrne.'

Saunders appeared with Tommy's hat, and a moment later he was gone, giving one last agonised glance back at Imogen.

Mr Hamilton waited for Saunders to close the door and return to the kitchen before he spoke. ‘Did you know about this ridiculous nonsense, Imogen?'

‘What … what do you mean
nonsense
?' Imogen stammered.

‘That young pup had the nerve to ask me if he could marry you,' Mr Hamilton thundered. ‘Damned impertinence.'

Violet looked from her father to her sister. She wrung a handkerchief between her fingers, as though she might burst into tears any moment.

‘But Dad,' began Violet. ‘Tommy's –'

‘Tom O'Byrne is a nobody,' Mr Hamilton interjected. ‘He's a Catholic nobody. It's inconceivable that he should marry my daughter.'

Violet and Imogen exchanged shocked glances.

‘You can't mean that, Daddy,' Imogen said. ‘Tommy's studying to be a doctor. He's very clever and works terribly hard …'

Mr Hamilton strode up and down the crimson-and-blue Chinese carpet, his hands behind his back. ‘His father is an Irish docker and his mother was a shopgirl. Besides, I won't tolerate a Catholic marriage. It's absolutely impossible. I won't hear of it.'

‘Tommy loves me,' Imogen wailed. ‘He wants to start his own practice. He wants to build a life together.'

Mr Hamilton stopped pacing and stared at his two daughters. ‘Imogen. Enough,' he shouted. ‘You are not yet twenty-one and you cannot marry Tom O'Byrne. I forbid him to come to my house again.'

Imogen looked crestfallen and stared at the floor.

Violet felt a wave of fury welling up. ‘Dad – you can't be so cruel.'

Mr Hamilton turned on his heel and stalked towards the door.

‘Not another word,' Mr Hamilton ordered. ‘Tomorrow night we will have the Ramsays for dinner. Imogen, you will instruct Mrs Darling that I would like a particularly fine meal. Theodore is fond of salmon, I believe.'

Mr Hamilton stormed out of the room, leaving Imogen sobbing on the sofa and Violet standing on the rug, her fists clutched tightly. She suddenly wondered how her father knew that Tommy's father was a docker. She remembered the conversation between Tommy and Theodore on the deck of the
Mariette
. Could Theodore have told her father about Tommy's background just to make trouble?

Violet turned to Imogen and sat down beside her, taking her hand. ‘Dad will come around,' she whispered. ‘He just needs time to get used to the idea.'

Imogen shook her head. ‘He's made up his mind. There's nothing I can do about it.'

Violet gazed into Imogen's eyes. ‘Do you love Tommy?'

Imogen scrubbed her eyes with the handkerchief. ‘Of course I love him. I've loved him almost since the first time I met him.'

‘Then you have to fight for him, Immy,' Violet insisted. ‘Does it matter that he comes from a Catholic family? Does it matter what his father does? Tommy is a good person – you know that.'

Imogen took a deep breath while she thought. She shook her head. ‘I can't disobey Daddy. It would break his heart, and I can't do that to him again.'

‘So you'd break Tommy's heart and your own instead?' demanded Violet, her voice harsh with frustration.

Imogen stood up and dabbed at her eyes, checking her reflection in the mirror. ‘We'll see what happens when Tommy has finished studying and I turn twenty-one.' Imogen put her handkerchief away in her pocket. ‘The important thing is not to upset Daddy. He's been through so much already.'

‘And haven't we?' Violet said bitterly.

Richmond, modern day

It was late when Marli's father, looking pale and tired, finally arrived to pick her up from Luca's home. He was very apologetic, murmuring an excuse about an argument with a contractor who was behind schedule.

When they arrived home, the apartment seemed cold and quiet after the noisy warmth of the Costas' dinner. Dani had packed up some leftovers for Dad, which he warmed up in the microwave.

Marli felt a wave of anger: her father had promised not to work late. Her mother had almost always made sure she was there when Marli came home from school, even if it meant having to work late at night, after Marli had gone to bed.

‘Did you have a lovely day, myshka?' Dad asked, sitting at the kitchen bench with his bowl of pasta.

‘It was all right,' Marli replied grumpily, playing with her bangle.

‘A funny coincidence that your friend Luca's family lives right next door to Riversleigh,' he continued. ‘They seem like kind people.'

‘They
are
kind people,' Marli growled.

‘Did I tell you that I spoke to the lawyers today about the handover of the Riversleigh estate?' Dad asked. ‘They're drawing up the paperwork now; we should get the keys in a few days.'

Marli pricked up her ears. Riversleigh and its mysteries would soon no longer be a fascinating secret for her to share with Luca. It would belong to Didi.

‘I spoke to council to see what the planning regulations are,' Dad continued. ‘Fortunately it's not heritage listed. With that size block of land we'd be able to build thirty low-rise apartments, with a mixture of one-, two- and three-bedroom floor plans.'

‘You can't,' said Marli, her voice rising. ‘Didi would be devastated if you knocked down the house.'

Dad rubbed his forehead. ‘The land's worth a fortune, myshka, and the house is a disaster. Didi could never live there, not now.'

Marli felt a rush of pent-up anger with her father for always working late. For leaving her and her mother. For wanting to destroy Riversleigh.

‘You don't care what Didi wants,' Marli shouted. ‘You don't care what I want. You never listen. You're never there for me.'

Dad sat there staring at her, looking shocked and wounded. Marli ran into her room and slammed the door.

This isn't my room – this is Dad's office, filled with his work, his drawings
. She thought of her own cozy cottage at home and Luca's crowded, wonderfully chaotic,
family-filled home. This apartment wasn't a home – it was a sleek, stylish, soulless hotel suite. And Dad wanted to pull down Riversleigh and build more just like it.

Marli fought back her tears. There was a knock at the door and Dad came in. He sat on the edge of the sofa bed and Marli turned to face the wall.

‘I'm sorry I was late, Marli,' said Dad, putting his hand on Marli's arm. ‘I wanted so much for us to spend some time together.' He paused, waiting for her to respond. Marli stayed stubbornly silent. ‘I didn't want to worry you with it, but we've had some problems at work. The project has gone way over budget and my boss is putting pressure on everyone to cut costs. I've been going through the figures with the accountant, trying to work a way out of this mess. Sometimes I wonder if it's all worth it.'

Marli felt her resolve melting, but then she steeled herself. Figures, budget blowouts and accountants seemed so foreign to her.

‘Well,' Dad said, ‘goodnight. I want you to know that I'm so happy you've come to stay, and I promise we'll still have a great Christmas and do our amazing road trip in January.'

He kissed the back of her head, turned off the light and closed the door behind him.

Marli lay awake for hours. Gradually the anger and the problems of the present ebbed. Her mind filled with the stories that Didi had told her and that Nonno had shared around the dinner table. Her imagination began to flicker with images of Riversleigh and the Hamilton family and all their servants – Violet and Imogen, their father Albert, Saunders, Mrs Darling, Sally, Guiseppe, Monsieur Dufour, Alf and Nikolai Khakovsky …