Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [193]
‘No. He went back to some country or other. Spain, I think. This is a new fella. Nice bloke.’
Brother Jean, followed by a group of young children, appeared and introduced himself. He took them into the long room where simple wooden tables and benches were set out in rows. A young Aboriginal woman brought tea, smiling shyly to them all, but eyed Maya with special interest.
Excusing himself for a few moments, Brother Jean returned with a dark brown journal and turned to an entry which briefly told the story of the arrival of the wounded girl, Brother Frederick’s attempt to nurse her to health, her deep attachment to the interior of the church with its shells, and her sad death. He believed her name to be ‘Neea’. Having no clue to her identity or family he placed the carved pendant she wore on the headstone. He passed the journal to them. ‘I will take you and your daughter there directly we have had tea.’
Brother Jean left them alone before the simple stone that marked the resting place of Niah. Tyndall stood gazing at the embedded carved shell, remembering how it had been so much a part of Niah. Maya stood beside him, one hand holding his, the other pressed to her own pendant resting close to her heart. Waves of sadness, joy, relief, and a sense of finality and strength swept over her. All the feelings she had locked away for so many years broke free and with a sob she fell to her knees and wrapped her arms about the headstone, pressing her forehead against its cold rough surface.
Tyndall crouched beside her and gathered her in his arms. ‘Maya,’ he whispered in an effort to comfort her.
‘It’s all right, Father, really it is.’ She lifted her tear-stained face to him and smiled. ‘It’s such a relief to find her. To know … so much is coming back. I can hear her voice, singing, I remember her laugh, her holding me … ’
She cried again and Tyndall wept too, with joy and sadness. ‘Let those memories free, my dearest, listen to her voice. That way you will never lose her again.’
When they returned to Broome, Maya hugged Olivia. ‘I feel a whole person again. I know who I am. My story is complete and I can pass it on to Georgie. We’re family at last. I hope Hamish is watching all this.’
Olivia smoothed her hair. ‘I feel he is. I know his spirit is here, back in Broome. It’s where you and he first came together as little children. God, fate, the journey of life, it’s all planned, I feel.’
Olivia opened her eyes on the morning of her wedding to Tyndall and clasped her hands together and whispered, ‘Dear God, thank you for this day, for the life we will share together. After all that has gone before, let this be my time of joy. I promise to love and care for my beloved man.’
Rosminah brought in a cup of tea and opened the shutters. ‘Look, mem, sunshine. Goin’ to be perfect day.’
Maya soon joined her, sitting up in bed beside her. ‘Your new life starts today.’
‘New? Perhaps … ’ she mused. ‘It feels so inevitable. John always insisted you only get one great love in a lifetime. Conrad and Gilbert were dear to me, but great passion, great overwhelming love … that’s rare.’
‘I know,’ said Maya softly ‘I’ll never find another Hamish. And you know, Olivia, I don’t even want to look or think about anyone else.’
‘Maya dearest, you are a young woman … it might never be the same but you shouldn’t resign yourself to a life alone … ’
Maya took Olivia’s hand. ‘You just know some things. And I know there will never be anyone for me but Hamish. Don’t feel sad for me. I feel so lucky to have loved him, to have Georgie and to have you.’
Olivia didn’t press the subject. She was so consumed with her own feelings of love for Tyndall. She wished every woman could feel this surging power of love and of being loved in return. ‘It’s been worth everything,’ she said and Maya, understanding, nodded and smiled.
It was a sunset wedding in the white Church of England corrugated iron church near the dunes bordering Roebuck Bay.
The bridal party walked through a huge crowd of friends and onlookers