Page 139 of The Pearl Sister
Over the next month, even though Charlie lay in bed every night promising himself that tomorrow he’d tell his mother the reason why Cat had left and that he was going in search of her, the business be damned, he never managed to utter a word. He knew his mother had spent the past seventeen years of her life running herself ragged to grow his inheritance, and all she wanted now was to take a well-earned break. How could he deny her that?
His admiration of her grew apace as he noted her voice of authority and the way she handled her staff and any problems with the lightest of touches. He also saw how the worry lines on her face had smoothed and how relaxed she seemed compared to the past.
How could he walk out on her after all she had done for him? Yet how could he not go and search for Cat and bring her back? Torn between loyalty for the two women he loved, Charlie felt often that his head and heart might explode. On Sundays – his one day off if there wasn’t a lugger coming in – he drove to Riddell Beach and swam hard to calm his tortured mind. He floated there, the waves lapping in his ears, trying to find the peace and resolution he needed. It didn’t come, and as the day approached when his mother would leave for Europe, his panic increased. He wondered if he should simply plunge his head under the waves for good to find blissful release.
Besides everything else, he didn’t feel he was cut out for the job. He had none of his mother’s air of natural authority, or the ease with which she talked to the other pearling masters at their regular dinners. Being half the age of most of them, Charlie knew they were almost certainly laughing at him behind his back and probably already planning their bids as they watched him and the company fail. His only other thought was to sell the company to one of the local pearling masters, but he knew that his mother would see it as a betrayal of his father and grandfather. The Mercer Pearling Company was one of the oldest in town, run by a family member since it began.
In short, Charlie had never been as miserable, desolate and lonely in his life.
Kitty had invited Elise round for Sunday lunch on a couple of occasions. There was no doubt that she was an efficient secretary and possibly more capable than he, as she covered up his mistakes where she could. Bright, witty and pretty, it was obvious his mother thought Elise the perfect future wife. There were constant mutterings about marriage and an heir to the empire.
‘You’d better snap her up before someone else does. Women like her don’t come along often in this town,’ she had said pointedly.
But there is already an heir out there, growing by the day in its mother’s stomach. God only knew how she was surviving . . .
‘Wait for me, Cat,’ he’d whisper to her Ancestors. ‘I will find you . . .’
* * *
‘So, this is goodbye, at least for now.’ Kitty smiled at her son as they stood in the luxurious suite aboard the ship that would take her down to Fremantle and then on the long voyage across the seas to her homeland.
Charlie thought how carefree she looked today – almost like a young girl, her eyes full of excitement.
‘I will do my best not to let you down.’
‘I know you will.’ Kitty reached out her hand to touch her son’s face. ‘Take care of yourself, darling boy.’
‘I will.’
The ship’s bell rang out to tell all those not travelling to disembark.
‘Write to me, won’t you? Let me know how you’re getting on?’ Kitty asked him.
‘Of course. Safe travels, Mother.’ Charlie gave her a last hug before leaving the suite to make his way down the gangplank. He waved until the ship was just a speck on the ocean. Then he took the little train back down the pier, where Fred was waiting in the car to return him home.
That evening, Charlie dined alone. The silence in the house was eerie and after he’d finished eating, he went to see Camira in the kitchen. In the past month, with Kitty in residence, it had been hard to pin her down alone, but she couldn’t avoid him now.
‘Dinna okay, Mister Charlie?’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘Have you heard from her?’
‘No.’
‘She has not contacted you at all? Please, I beg you, tell me the truth.’
‘Mister Charlie, you nottum understand. Out there’ – Camira waved her arm around vaguely – ‘no paper and stamp.’
‘Maybe others have seen her? I know how the Bush telegraph works and messages are delivered by word of mouth.’
‘No, I hear-a nothin’, honest, Mister Charlie.’
‘I am amazed you are not beside yourself with worry.’
‘Yessum, I worry, but I think she okay. I feel her, and Ancestors look after her.’
‘Has she gone to live with your people, you think?’
‘Maybe.’
