Tears Of The Moon Part 11

His round face, that looked as if it had just been oiled and polished, always broke into a welcoming smile. Fortunes came or fell away from his fingers as he delicately operated on flaws that marred a pearl's beauty and value. The art lay in his hands-surprisingly squat stubfingered hands-but the agility, lightness and swiftness of touch was like watching two creatures perform a dance, so delicately they twisted and spun the pearl beneath the blade or file. Like a doctor, the pearl cleaner was believed to have healing hands. Though luck, skill and judgement were just as important. Despite the pressure of his work, Tobias Metta still managed to chuckle and talk all the time while he worked.

'It's the risk the owner takes, Mr Hennessy, to sell immediately at a small profit or gamble that beneath the surface is a perfect beauty. If it isn't there, I cannot produce it. I am not a magician,' smiled Toby. 'But I can make more beautiful a pearl whose true qualities have not been shown to the world,' he added with some pride.

Conrad was amazed at how lackl.u.s.tre pearls became s.h.i.+ning iridescent gems, sometimes in only minutes. Misshapen pearls sometimes yielded valuable gems, but just as often turned out to be worthless.

'How exciting! I would love to watch him at work,' exclaimed Olivia. 'Would he mind? I absolutely must go with you when we collect our pearls and tackle the buyer.'

'Toby is quite unperturbed about visitors being around as he works. He's amazingly deft, and very fast. It's hard to believe he is working with something valuable and that one slip could destroy it,' marvelled Conrad. 'I'll introduce you tomorrow, my dear.'

Tyndall put his gla.s.s down and thanked them both for the sundowner. 'By the way, before I go, I'll speak to Niah. I'll attempt to settle her down and explain what the situation is. May I see her now?'

'I only wish I could communicate with her, help her. She doesn't seem to be adjusting to our household at all well,' sighed Olivia.

As the two men walked to the rear of the house, Conrad asked, 'How wild is she, John?'

'All women can be wild at times,' said Tyndall lightly, but then continued more earnestly, 'She's from the Indies, Conrad. Quite a different culture from the blacks.'

Niah was sitting cross-legged in the centre of the camp stretcher in the simple whitewashed room. She glared at Tyndall when she saw him, then let forth a stream of urgent questions.

'Lambat. Slowly,' said Tyndall, speaking softly and choosing his words carefully. The girl listened and then Tyndall called for Yusef, the houseboy, who was sitting at the servants' communal eating table outside the laundry and cookhouse.

'Yusef, you must watch her, and be her friend. Mem Hennessy will have clothes made for her because it might take a while before we can send her back home.'

Niah jumped up and clutched at Tyndall, crying and talking in a jumble of her native language which he had trouble following. He calmed Niah and turned to Yusef. 'She doesn't want to go back home? What was all that about a bad man?'

Yusef translated. 'Tuan, she say she is given to old man, a bad man, for husband. She no want to go to him.'

'What about her family? Will they take her back, is there anywhere else she can go?'

Niah shook her head vehemently in response to this and nervously clutched at the sh.e.l.l pendant around her neck.

'She stolen by bad white man and put on boat with others. No can go back, tuan,' said the boy, giving Niah a sympathetic look.

'Hmm,' muttered Tyndall. 'It seems we can't send her back.'

At this Conrad looked shocked and shook his head. 'Well, we can't just keep her or indeed, let her loose in the streets.'

Niah reached out and clutched Tyndall's s.h.i.+rt, talking urgently.

He unhooked Niah's hands. 'She says she belongs to me now because I saved her.'

'Oh,' said Conrad, now quite confused by the fast-changing situation.

Olivia overheard this last exchange as she approached, wondering what all the noise was about. 'Well, you certainly can't keep her, Captain Tyndall. We'll have to talk to the church people. Maybe she should go to a convent. I'm sure there must be a mission that will take her.'

Tyndall bit his Up and didn't answer. Turning to the girl, he spoke soothingly, before asking Olivia to get the cook to make her some food. 'I think she feels a bit better now she's sounded off at all of us.'

Olivia glanced back at the girl who still looked haunted, but there was a small gleam in her big brown eyes. She recognised the glint of victory when she saw it.

The next day a very hungover Tyndall announced he had found a diver for the next season. 'A j.a.p. Good record with the fleet. But my G.o.d he can drink whisky!'

Olivia raised an eyebrow. 'Will you be coming with us to the pearl cleaner?'

Tyndall screwed up his face and slumped low in his office chair, lifting his feet up on the desk. 'I couldn't handle Toby Metta this morning. Never stops talking. All too much. As for the pearl buyer, well my advice is, be tough.'

'Don't worry about it, John, we'll look after everything,' said Conrad with some confidence.

Just as she was enchanted with the rundown sh.e.l.l shed on the waterfront when she first went there, Olivia was excited by the atmosphere of the workshop of the Asian pearl cleaner. He greeted her effusively, fussily dusting off a bentwood chair, and rubbing his hands together with enthusiasm.

'It is very good of you to come to my humble little place, Mrs Hennessy. It is rarely graced by the presence of a lady.' He bobbed and smiled and clasped his hands. 'You are most welcome any time.'

His singsong accent and excessive politeness amused Olivia, but she warmed to him immediately. 'I hope that together we will make some wonderful pearls, Mr Metta.'

'Oh indeed, indeed, Mrs Hennessy. We most certainly will. But already you have some very excellent pearls.' He reached into a drawer and from a labelled black velvet bag emptied a small cl.u.s.ter of pearls from blue tissue paper into the palm of his hand, then spread them on the bag on the desk. 'There,' he said triumphantly.

Four pearls of intense gold and rosy l.u.s.tre shone like beacons on a moonless night. Olivia gasped lightly. 'Oh, they're beautiful. Conrad, isn't it exciting.' 'Only a few skins had to be removed,' explained Toby. 'Very simple little task, just like peeling an onion. A most lucky start. They will bring a good price even though they are not that big.' From another bag he emptied two dozen smaller pearls. 'Your petty cash,' he laughed. 'I lost four. They were flawed to the heart. So sorry.'

They paid his fee and accepted an invitation to Sunday tiffin. His reputation was such among the pearling masters of Broome that there was no racial discrimination when it came to accepting invitations to Toby and Mabel's tiffin. Not only was the food good, but very little happened in Broome concerning pearls that Toby did not know about, and occasionally he discreetly let slip some useful information.

With the pearls rolled into a small chamois bag and tucked into Olivia's handbag, the Hennessys continued on to the Continental Hotel to meet with Monsieur Jules Barat, the pearl buyer.

After exchanging introductions and greetings, Monsieur Barat carefully closed the door behind them.

The pearl buyer was a short man, quite young despite his courtly manner, with a large hooked nose, pointed goatee and gold-rimmed spectacles that magnified his bulbous brown eyes. He was immaculately dressed from Faubourg St Germain and the combination of his elan and distinctive Gallic style made him glaringly out of place in Broome.

They sat around a small wicker table and he opened a flat wooden case. Its lid was lined with green baize. Beside this he set up a small set of gold scales, a jeweller's eyegla.s.s, and a small notepad.

He spoke with a smooth and seductive French accent. He bowed slightly to Olivia. 'Would Madame excuse me if I remove my jacket?'

'Please.' She gestured to him to go ahead, and he slipped his jacket on the back of his chair. Conrad, dressed in tropical linen and not haute couture, stayed as he was.

Olivia took the pearls from the little bag and placed them on the green baize. It was a modest collection and Olivia spoke up a little defensively. 'As you are aware, this has been our first season. We expect to increase our output significantly with each season.'

'Of course. Quality, not just quant.i.ty, is what we strive for in the jewellery business,' he responded with a slight bobbing of his head.

Monsieur Barat went through what was obviously his personal ritual-the adjusting of the metal expanding bands that held up his s.h.i.+rt sleeves, the flexing of fingers, the wiping of his gla.s.ses, which he put to one side, the s.c.r.e.w.i.n.g into place of the eyegla.s.s. Only then did he pick up and study each pearl. After careful scrutiny, he weighed each and made a note on his pad. Another thoughtful look at each pearl, holding them at a distance, and finally a calculation on the pad. He tore off the sheet, turned it around and slid it across to Conrad. After a brief perusal, Conrad silently handed the paper to Olivia. He looked pleased-it seemed a fair price, quite in line with the estimate Toby had made for them. But Olivia pursed her lips.

'Monsieur Barat, surely this is not your final offer?' she challenged him.

Conrad and the pearl buyer blinked at her.

'Mrs Hennessy, I am a professional dealer, not a horse trader.'

'I understand, of course. But ... '

'Olivia ... ' began Conrad, appalled at her questioning of the offer.

The falcon eyes of the pearl buyer from Paris didn't flicker as he stared at Olivia without expression. 'I have considerable expenses. If you would prefer to travel to Rue Lafayette or Hatton Garden yourself ... ' He gave a shrug. 'Besides, you are first-time clients, we have not established a trading relations.h.i.+p as such where I can offer you un prix special un prix special ... ' ... '

'It seems to me this is the time to do so then,' said Olivia sweetly. 'A special price now will a.s.sure we continue to do business with you, for we will know you are a fair and reasonable man. It would save us the trouble of negotiating with other buyers.'

Conrad decided to maintain his silence. Olivia had scored a point. He was at once surprised at and proud of his wife's boldness.

The pearl buyer unfolded his gla.s.ses, slowly put them back on and reached for the sc.r.a.p of paper. He drew a line through the bottom figure, wrote a new figure and handed the paper back to Olivia. 'Does that establish a relations.h.i.+p between us, Mrs Hennessy?' he asked with a thaw in his formal demeanour.

She gave him a brilliant smile. 'Indeed it does. Star of the Sea Pearls looks forward to seeing you next season, Monsieur Barat. Isn't that so, Conrad?'

'Er, yes, quite so ... ' he glanced at the notepad sheet Olivia handed to him.

The pearl buyer stood and put on his jacket. 'Please allow me to celebrate our business dealing with an aperitif in the Lugger Bar.' He held out his arm for Olivia to take as Conrad opened the door for them and they all stepped into the garden.

Niah appeared to have settled down. Olivia had had an Indian tailor run up several simple outfits for her, as Niah was reluctant to wear European clothing and preferred sarongs. Olivia had to agree privately she thought this a far more practical outfit and wondered if she might ever dare wear one, away from public gaze. In the back of her mind was the possibility she might take another trip on the Bulan Bulanand she imagined how perfect such attire would be on a boat. She wished Conrad enjoyed the sea more so that they could take some trips together.

While the sea might not have held any lure for Conrad, sh.e.l.l and their possible haul of pearls certainly did. He began spending more time in the packing shed when the sh.e.l.l openers and cleaners were at work.

'So, we've got you away from the figures at last,' said Tyndall, who was watching the men drag the crates of sh.e.l.l to one side ready for s.h.i.+pment.

'I'd like to be writing up more pearl sales as well as sh.e.l.l,' remarked Conrad with enthusiasm. 'I must say it was quite an experience dealing with Monsieur Barat. There really is something special about pearls, isn't there. Everything about them has a different excitement-the find, the peeling, the selling. When do we start deep diving?'

Tyndall laughed. 'Bejesus, Conrad, you've really taken to this business, but you'll have to be patient during the wet. It'll be a few months before we get back to sea. There's plenty to keep us occupied. Got to finalise the crews, and there are the changes to the lugger.'

'The new diving suit we ordered from Perth should be on the next steamer,' added Conrad.

'I thought I might take a turn on the bottom,' announced Tyndall casually. 'Can't be that difficult to get the hang of.'

'Do you think that's wise, John? d.a.m.ned risky business. One hears such terrible stories ... And what about the chap we got the boat from. He's not good for anything now.' Conrad was genuinely concerned at the prospect.

'Don't worry about it. I'll have Ahmed on top keeping an eye on me, and I'll get plenty of advice from our diver. Which reminds me, we'd better sign him up.'

Olivia was excited at the prospect of them being 'proper pearlers', as she put it. She wanted to know every detail of the changes to the lugger and the new gear which they were acc.u.mulating in Tyndall's office. She even suggested that she join in negotiations with the j.a.panese diver.

'Now that's one area of business you're not sharing,' admonished Tyndall, shaking a finger at her. 'We wouldn't get anyone to work for us if a woman got involved in the act.'

Olivia glared at him in reply.

'It's a cultural thing, no insult intended,' he explained, then hurriedly changed the subject. 'Hey, have you seen the diving gear? Just had the helmet overhauled.' He led her to a corner of the room where the baggy diving suit was hung, metal boots and helmet piled on the floor beside it.

'Those boots look terribly big,' said Olivia.

'Here, try them on,' enthused Tyndall, pulling them out while Olivia slipped off her shoes.

She put a foot in each of them, then burst out laughing. 'They're ridiculous. I can't move they're so heavy.'

Tyndall bounced back to the pile and lifted the copper and bra.s.s helmet. 'Might as well do the full thing, try the hat,' he laughed, carefully placing it over Olivia's head, resting it on her shoulders, then stepped back.

Olivia's m.u.f.fled giggle gave way to a sudden cry for help, but it was too late. Her legs buckled as she tried to lift her feet, and she toppled over. Tyndall dashed forward and caught her in his arms, but he was off-balance and they both fell to the floor, overcome with helpless laughter.

'Good Lord, Olivia, whatever are you doing?' gasped Conrad as he took in the scene having just come up the stairs. 'What's going on?' he snapped.

'Just testing the gear, Conrad. Testing the gear.' On his knees Tyndall helped lift the helmet off Olivia's head.

Olivia lay flat on the floor, her feet still stuck in the diving boots, and looked up at Conrad, first seriously, then burst out laughing again at the absurdity of the situation.

'Really! This is very embarra.s.sing. You're behaving like a child,' Conrad reprimanded her and then stomped off to his office.

Tyndall helped Olivia to her feet, and they exchanged mock grimaces behind Conrad's back.

Several months later the Star of the Sea Pearl Company was back in business with the Bulan Bulan refitted for deep-sea helmet diving with accommodation, new hand pump and tender's equipment in place, crew hired and the refitted for deep-sea helmet diving with accommodation, new hand pump and tender's equipment in place, crew hired and the Shamrock Shamrock fitted out as a mother s.h.i.+p to deliver supplies and collect sh.e.l.l hauls. fitted out as a mother s.h.i.+p to deliver supplies and collect sh.e.l.l hauls.

Prior to setting out to sea, Tyndall joined the Hennessys for dinner. Niah helped wait at the table, she and Olivia showing off their respective limited knowledge of English and Malay. Niah knew this was a farewell for Tyndall before he and Ahmed went away to sea again.

Tyndall and Conrad celebrated the forthcoming enterprise heartily with far too many drinks. When Olivia bid Tyndall goodbye and good luck she knew he was going to head to the bars in Chinatown.

She wagged a finger at him. 'You behave yourself and don't miss the tide in the morning!'

'Ahmed will get us to sea, don't you worry. What are you going to do while I'm away?' he slurred. 'You'll find it very dull without me around. You'll have to go and play ladies again.'

'We'll manage perfectly well without you,' she answered, trying not to sound upset at his drunken state. 'You just bring back lots of good sh.e.l.l and pearls.'

'Don't you wish you were coming too?' He lurched a little as he peered intently at her face, but her expression was hidden in the shadowy night.

'Good night, Captain Tyndall,' she said firmly from the verandah. 'And bon voyage.'

Conrad was already snoring lightly in his chair and Olivia sighed as she watched Tyndall, staggering slightly, disappear into the night. It would be an adventure to go out to the pearling grounds where the banks of sh.e.l.l were hidden fathoms deep. Maybe ... one day.

The next morning as Conrad walked carefully about the house complaining of feeling out of sorts, a worried Ahmed arrived on a borrowed bicycle. 'Mem, mem, tuan no on schooner.'

'I knew it,' she said, slamming her hand on the doorpost in exasperation. 'He went to Chinatown after he left here late last night. Conrad, you'd better help Ahmed look for him.

'He could be anywhere,' agonised Conrad, holding his head.

'I know his places,' said Ahmed. 'Crew all ready, must not miss tide.'

'Tell me where to look for him while I get the sulky ready,' sighed Conrad.

After they left, Olivia had a sudden thought. She hurried from the house and down to the office. Conrad's room was locked, but hearing a thud next door, Olivia cautiously opened the door.

There was Tyndall, sprawled sound asleep on a cane lounge, one foot having dropped to the floor. He was still in his clothes from the evening before, stubble showed on his chin and he was breathing heavily, lips slightly parted. There was an empty whisky bottle on the floor.

'Tyndall!' Olivia shouted and banged the door loudly behind her.

It took a few seconds for him to open his eyes and focus on the figure standing over him.

'Have you been here all night?' demanded Olivia.

'Nope.' He sat up, rubbed his eyes and his rough cheeks and chin and stared at her before asking, 'What time is it?'

'Time to sail. Ahmed is looking for you. The crews are on board. You'd better get going.'