Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [151]
‘I’ll be there. We should start around the docks. Apparently a lot of girls hang about down there.’
‘Good for you, Gilbert.’
It took weeks, but through the churches, hospitals, the police, the network of contacts they built up from back doors of cheap eating houses where the homeless went for handouts, to the workers round the docks who knew where girls were sleeping rough, the word of Shaw House spread. Young girls started turning up to be treated, fed, given clothing and advice. Some just wanted a bed and a meal for a night or two, while others were sent on to the Sisters of Mercy. In some cases, Olivia tried to find employment for girls who had some education and were willing to work.
It was tiring, sometimes frustrating and heartrending, but ultimately rewarding work. It kept her mind off the past and she only took a break and made time for herself when Hamish came home for holidays. He loved his school, was a keen team participant in all sports and in the dramatic society and he looked forward to the Christmas holiday adventure of travelling to a friend’s pastoral property. It took his mind off wanting to go back to Broome, which relieved Olivia. Minnie’s daughter, Mollie, had made one trip back to Broome since coming to work for Olivia in Fremantle and reported that all was well at Olivia’s home in Broome, where Minnie lived with Alf in the servants’ quarters as caretakers.
As Shaw House was transformed from a dark and rundown boarding house into the cheerful and welcoming safe haven for ‘girls in crisis’ as Gilbert described it, Olivia and Gilbert spent more time together than ever before. Plans, renovations, furnishing and practical amenities were discussed and the workload shared. When Hamish came home he joined them, doing odd jobs and taking a great interest in the project. The three of them ate meals together and to the childless and widowed Gilbert it was a joy to feel like part of a family.
Olivia, too, was pleased Gilbert and Hamish liked each other. The boy needed a father figure and Gilbert Shaw offered sound advice, took an interest in his sporting activities and discussed world affairs with him. Olivia realised how much Hamish had grown to look like his father. He had something of Conrad’s polite reserve and well-drilled school manners but his flashes of teasing humour she recognised as pure Tyndall. At these moments her heart lurched as she realised how much she missed Tyndall’s engaging, if sometimes maddening, sense of humour. But Tyndall’s down-to-earth manner had been good for Hamish, as had their mixed group of friends like Ahmed and the Mettas, for it had given the boy a balanced perception of people and the world. In one of his letters Tyndall had hoped Hamish wouldn’t turn into a snob by going to a posh boarding school.
‘Wrong again, Tyndall,’ Olivia thought. She never wrote to Tyndall about her personal life though she knew Hamish wrote to Tyndall. She kept her correspondence restricted to business matters. She also tried to keep her memories of Tyndall in check. If she allowed herself to think about the beautiful times they’d shared, the joyous future she’d imagined with him, and then the betrayal and invasion of Amy, it caused overwhelming pain and sorrow. If she kept busy, kept distracted, kept her distance, she figured she would get through this tragedy in her life.
Time and again she thanked whatever lucky stars, fate or providence had thrown her together with Gilbert Shaw. He was understanding, gentle and caring. She could see the growing love in his eyes for her and it gave her a warm and supportive feeling. Knowing he