Page 118 of The Pearl Sister
Charlie, whose initial reaction had been so calm, had cried on his mother’s knee a few days after she’d told him.
‘I know they’ve gone to heaven, Mama, but I miss ’em. I want to see Papa and Uncle Drum . . .’
Her son’s suffering at least gave Kitty something to focus on and she spent as much time as she could with him. With the loss of his father, grandfather and uncle, the male Mercer line had been wiped out in one fell swoop and Charlie was now the sole heir. Kitty feared what a burden it might prove to be for him in the future.
After she had tucked Charlie into his bed for the night, gently stroking his hair to send him to sleep, Kitty fingered the growing stack of unopened letters and telegrams on her writing bureau. She could not bear to open them, accept the writers’ sympathies, for she knew she deserved none of it. Despite trying to rein in her duplicitous heart and focus her sorrow on Andrew, she continued to mourn incessantly for Drummond.
She went out onto the veranda and looked up at the vast expanse of stars, searching for an answer.
As always, there was none.
* * *
Since there were no bodies to be buried, Bishop Riley announced that there would be a memorial service held in the Church of Annunciation at the end of April. Kitty went to Wing Hing Loong, the local tailor, to purchase mourning attire, only to discover that they had already sold out of black dress fabric.
‘Dun worry, Missus Mercer,’ said the diminutive Chinaman. ‘Wear what you have, no one care what you look like.’ Kitty left the crowded shop with a grim smile, seeing for herself that it was an ill wind that blew nobody good.
Although most of the luggers in the pearling fleet had been hauled in for the lay-up season, a few had been caught in the cyclone. Noel Donovan, the gentle Irish manager of the Mercer Pearling Company, came to the house to give her the details of the losses.
‘Twenty men,’ she sighed. ‘Do you have their addresses so I can write to their families? Do any of them have relatives in Broome? If so, I’d like to visit them personally.’
‘I’ll get what addresses I can from the office, Mrs Mercer. I’d be reckoning that the twentieth of March, the day the mightyKoombanasank, will go down in history. Teaches us never to become complacent, doesn’t it now? Man’s arrogance lets him believe he can command the oceans. Nature knows better.’
‘Sadly, for all us souls left behind, you are indeed right, Mr Donovan.’
‘Well now, I’ll be leaving ye to it.’ He rose from his chair, then clasped his hands nervously together. ‘Pardon me mentioning it at such a time, but have you heard from Mrs Mercer Senior at all?’
‘I’m afraid I have not yet found the courage to open all the telegrams I have been sent. Or the cards and letters.’ Kitty indicated the growing pile on her desk.
‘Well now, I haven’t heard from her either and I hardly like to bother her, but I wondered whether ye had an idea of what’s to become of the pearling business? What with all three Mercer men gone . . .’ Noel shook his head.
‘I confess that I have no idea, but with no one left to run it, and Charlie still so young, I can only imagine it will be sold.’
‘I thought as much, and I should warn you, Mrs Mercer, that the vultures are circling already. I’d reckon ’tis ye they’ll come to first, so I’d be advising you to contact the family lawyer in Adelaide. There is one particular gentleman, Japanese I believe, who is most interested. Mr Pigott is also planning on selling everything. ’Tis a mighty blow to our industry indeed. Well now, good day, Mrs Mercer, and I will see ye at the memorial.’
The morning of the service, Kitty tried to persuade Camira and Fred to accompany her and Charlie. Camira looked horrified.
‘No, Missus Kitty, dat whitefella place. Not for us.’
‘But you deserve to be there, Camira. You and Fred . . . you loved them too.’
Camira stoically refused, so Kitty set off with Charlie on the cart. In the tiny church, people moved aside to allow her to sit with Charlie near the front. The congregation overflowed into the garden and many peered through the louvred windows to hear the bishop’s sermon. Throughout the ceremony and amidst the sound of pitiful sobbing, Kitty sat dry-eyed. She prayed for the many souls lost but would not cry tears for herself. She knew she deserved every second of the pain and guilt she was suffering.
Afterwards, there was a wake in the Roebuck Bay Hotel. Some of the men drowned their sorrows in the alcohol that the pearling masters had provided and began singing Scottish and Irish sea shanties, which took Kitty spinning back to the day she had stumbled into The Edinburgh Castle Hotel.
Back at home later, she sat down in the drawing room and, out of habit, picked up her embroidery. As she sewed, she pondered her own and Charlie’s future. No doubt what she’d said to Noel Donovan was correct and the businesses would be sold, with the funds put in trust for Charlie. She wondered whether she should return to Edinburgh, yet she doubted Edith would be happy about her only grandson leaving Australia. Perhaps she would insist they both come back to live in Adelaide, and if Kitty refused, might even hold Charlie’s future fortune to ransom . . .
Kitty rose from her chair and walked across to her desk. Now that the memorial service was over, she had to begin to face the future. She separated the letters from the unopened telegrams, sat down and started to read.
Tears began to stream down her face at the generosity and thoughtfulness of the Broome townspeople.
. . .And Drummond, what a delightful breath of fresh air he was. Lighting up our dinner table with his wit and humour . . .
Kitty jumped as she heard the front door slam. Heavy footsteps sounded along the entrance hall, and the drawing room door creaked open. Kitty held her breath, realising too late that she was now a woman alone in a dangerous town. She turned round from her desk and saw a figure standing there, a figure that was all too familiar, even covered as he was in filth and red dust. Kitty wondered if she was hallucinating, because thiscould not be. . .
She closed her eyes, then reopened them. And he was still there, staring at her.
‘Drummond?’ she whispered.
