Tears of the Moon - Di Morrissey [84]
Olivia was hurt and angry and, as she hurried down the crushed shell path, Tyndall’s voice, sounding slightly amused, called after her, ‘Well at least we’re on first name terms at last!’
Olivia slammed the gate and, with her head high, stomped furiously along the street towards home. As she walked, her anger cooled, and the sun beating through the white linen parasol began to weary her. She tried to go over the entire conversation again but she couldn’t get past the idea of Tyndall accusing her of being jealous. Why should she be jealous? She was a married woman, Tyndall could sleep with whomever he liked. Would she have been so upset if the girl in his bed was an attractive white girl? She realised she had to confront her prejudices. Was she annoyed because Tyndall had chosen a girl the rest of their friends and associates would regard as inferior and of little consequence? Or would she have been jealous of any girl Tyndall chose?
That evening Conrad was occupied with the periodicals and newspapers that had arrived from England, months after their publication. Olivia sat on the darkened verandah listening to the night noises in the garden, the warm breeze carrying the heady scent of frangipani flowers and the faint smell of the mangrove flats exposed by the tide, an odour of Broome that was now a familiar part of her surroundings. She regretted the flare up with Tyndall, but was glad she’d spoken up about something that had wrenched her feelings about so strangely. She decided to let things be and hope that Tyndall would handle matters discreedy or come to his senses. She would maintain a cordial relationship for the sake of the business, but there was no denying that her friendship with Tyndall was strained by Niah’s presence. She would go on with dignity for she had nothing to be ashamed about.
And in her head she heard Tyndall’s steady voice, ‘And neither have I.’
At the same time Tyndall sat in the shadows on his verandah sipping a nightcap, deep in thought. Niah padded quietly to him and sat by his feet, leaning her head against his knee. Absently he smoothed her hair. The day had been a draining one. He was saddened at the conflict between himself and Olivia. Only now that their friendship was threatened did he realise how much he valued it as distinct from the business partnership. He found himself wanting her approval, a feeling he had difficulty accommodating. Nonetheless he couldn’t help contrasting her frosty eyes and formal manner with the windswept vision of her on the Bulan in those mad pyjamas, learning to laugh again. Niah’s hands began to softly stroke his thighs and he became conscious of how she filled a hole in his life, and his thoughts of Olivia soon faded.
Slowly and subtly, the relationship between Olivia and Tyndall changed over the next three years. The business partnership strengthened as mutual regard for their abilities was recognised and while the bond of friendship was still there, their former closeness had faded. Once or twice they would exchange a swift smile as something caused them both to react simultaneously. But when they made meaningful eye contact, a veil would drop swiftly over Olivia’s eyes and she’d turn away.
Tyndall learned where the invisible barriers were and never overstepped them. He minded his manners and rarely teased her as he’d done before.
In turn, Olivia was less judgemental and kept her criticisms to herself when she wished she could air them frankly and argue with him as she would have done before. She also missed his bantering, an art Conrad had never mastered. But they continued their use of first names, a surprising legacy of their argument over Niah.
Conrad was pleased at the stability of the relationship between them all, unaware of the undercurrent of restraint between Tyndall and Olivia. The birth of their son Hamish two years earlier had been a time of great joy and created a diversion in their lives. Conrad had been somewhat surprised at Olivia’s continuing interest and involvement with Star of the Sea, despite