Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [211]
She could adopt her mother’s attitude and do as Georgie did—turn her back and ignore the knowledge. But the more Lily thought about her mother’s attitude the more she realised Georgiana was a product of her times. Yet deep down it must have affected her, because she hadn’t turned her back completely. After all, it was Georgiana who had sent Olivia’s diaries, letters and photos to the Broome museum. She must have surmised if Lily was really interested in her roots she would set out to find her history and what Lily chose to do with the knowledge would be her decision.
And how would her friends in Sydney react? Rosie they would embrace. But Biddy? In Broome and the north it was accepted and understood. But in city heartlands it was all very well to be politically correct provided it didn’t encroach on one’s personal life. Lily knew some of her more snobby friends would be appalled at finding she had Aboriginal family connections.
She drove into the mission at Beagle Bay late in the day to find Brother William sitting on a chair outside the church reading a small prayer book.
‘Hello again, Brother William.’
‘Hello there. You were here before. The lady asking all the questions.’
‘That’s right.’ She held up a plastic bag, ‘Look, I’ve brought you some black bread and liverwurst from the delicatessen in Broome.’
The old man’s eyes lit up. ‘So kind of you. Come, we’ll make tea.’
They went into the dining area and the young Aboriginal mother set out the cups and plates as Lily sliced the bread. They exchanged a smile and it immediately struck Lily that she was now looking at Aboriginal people differently. Even so, could she go back to Sydney and never return to Broome, never tell anyone about her family history, and pretend it didn’t exist?’
She talked with Brother William about the old days, dwelling mainly on the life of Olivia and Tyndall after they were married, and avoiding any reference to the Aboriginal side of the story. Then she changed the subject. ‘I gave the Bishop’s journal to the Historical Society. They were very grateful. It’s a valuable addition to their archives.’
Brother William was pleased. ‘We have been able to help each other, and that is the way it should be. Now, what is the purpose of your visit? More questions?’
‘In a way yes, Father, but I don’t think you have the answer. I’ve got to find it myself. I’m sorry if that sounds a little mysterious.’
Brother William threw his hands up and laughed. ‘In our business we live with that sort of mystery all the time. Is there any way I can help?’
‘Not really. I just need a little time to walk around on my own. Do you mind?’
‘Of course not. Please go ahead, take your time. The church is open if you want to pray. It might help.’
He watched from the verandah as Lily walked slowly across the settlement to the cemetery, paused at the gate, then went in and began studying the headstones. Absent-mindedly, he scratched his head a little, nodded slowly several times as if he suddenly understood something, then walked briskly to the church to pray for this unexpected visitor.
The headstone was in a rather neglected part of the cemetery, a spot where the weeds had grown out of control in the last wet. It was without any markings and adorned only by the carved pearl shell, exactly as described in Olivia’s diary.
Lily kneeled down and ran her fingers over the carving, now almost worn smooth by nine decades of wind-driven dust in the dry and lashing rain in the wet. But there was no mistaking the design, the symbols of journeys across the sea and circles that represented pearls. She sat back on her heels and just looked at the simple headstone, which was devoid of any words yet said so much to her.
All the knowledge gained and the emotions experienced in an extraordinary few days flooded over her yet again. Despite the confusion in her mind she realised, more than at any time this week, that she was now centre stage in the ongoing drama that Olivia’s diary had recorded.