Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [48]
‘It’s a deal then,’ announced Tyndall buoyantly, leaping up the steps. ‘Welcome aboard. And for you, Mrs Hennessy, some flowers to mark the occasion.’ With a dramatic flourish he offered a small branch smothered in frangipani blooms. ‘Mind the sap,’ he added and Olivia laughed.
‘Thank you, kind sir,’ she responded with exaggerated politeness.
After Tyndall had left she sat alone on the verandah with the flowers in her lap while Conrad got dressed for dinner. When he came looking for her she was quietly weeping.
‘My dearest, you are having regrets?’
‘Not about business. About James. Oh, Conrad,’ she sobbed. ‘Our beautiful son. The horror of it. Will we ever recover?’
‘Olivia dear, I understand how you feel. This will be a new start for us.’
He took her in his arms and held her tightly for a long time.
At sea Conrad was uncomfortable and awkward and hoped his duties wouldn’t involve too many sea-going activities. Tyndall had assured him he would be running matters ashore, but that wouldn’t be until they had a crew and their first haul.
‘But while we are at sea,’ Tyndall had said, ‘you can make some business enquiries about the place, Conrad. We need to know who is trustworthy when it comes to prices and shipments, who is the best pearl cleaner and who are the best buyers.’
It all sounded foreign to Conrad but he nodded and said he’d do his best. He still found it hard to adjust to Tyndall’s seemingly haphazard and cavalier attitude to life and business.
The lugger raced across the sea as a stiff breeze filled the sails and Tyndall and Ahmed nodded to each other. ‘I think we’ve got ourselves a decent boat, Conrad,’ called Tyndall. ‘Now we have to negotiate a deal.’
‘What happened to the fellow who owned this?’ asked Conrad, wondering why the owner was no longer in the pearling business.
‘Shark took his leg. He’s staying ashore nowadays. Has no use for the Bulan so we’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse,’ grinned Tyndall.
‘What does the name mean, Ahmed?’ Conrad asked the silent Malay who was tending to some ropes. He found Tyndall’s shadow a bit unnerving. The little Malay seemed to be quite languid most of the time, but his dark inscrutable eyes never rested. He missed nothing. He seemed to anticipate every move of his master, and the two of them appeared to communicate so much of the time with subtle gestures and looks. His devotion to Tyndall was clear, but Tyndall’s regard for the skills of the Malay was also obvious. They made an effective team but Conrad couldn’t help thinking of the little brown man as a servant and bodyguard. The silver kris he usually carried in an ornamental wooden sheath in the waistband of his sarong enhanced the bodyguard image.
Looks like a bloody pirate, thought Conrad. Wouldn’t like to cross him.
‘Bulan means moon, tuan,’ answered Ahmed. ‘Bad luck to change a boat’s name,’ he added firmly, just in case Conrad had any such thoughts.
The inference irked Conrad and again he felt the unease that came from contact with Asians and Aborigines. Conrad knew he was of superior race and standing, yet he felt vaguely threatened and insecure. Strange, he thought, that Olivia seemed quite at ease with the coloured people. He rationalised that her experience with the natives at the birth of their child must have something to do with it.
Tyndall spent some time with the one–legged owner of the lugger to settle on a price. Tyndall and Conrad then signed the papers and handed over the money. They strode enthusiastically up the street to register the change of ownership, and Tyndall slapped Conrad on the back. ‘We got a bonus as well, he has an old office down by the wharf in Broome, says we can use it. He never goes there. Spends his time in the brothels and the pubs.’
Conrad rushed back to break the news to Olivia. ‘We got it at a bargain price,’ he gushed. ‘By God, that Tyndall is a card. Drank the best part of a whole bottle of whisky with the old fellow before getting down to details of the deal. Talked about everything from