Part 35 (1/2)

'What nonsense! You're in the prime of life. The town will expect a big event, Olivia. John is a popular man with all races and they love you too.'

'We'll see. I'll talk it over with John when he gets back.'

Olivia walked along the track at the edge of the bay. With the luggers outside on a last run over the beds, the town dozed in the salty air heavily humid with the threat of the first rain of the wet season.

She paused to watch an old Malay fisherman unload silvery barramundi, thread them along an oar and, hoisting it to one shoulder, lift a bucket of c.o.c.kle oysters and set off for town. His faded batik sarong was knotted firmly around his sinewy frame, his black topi set at a jaunty angle, his sandals scuffing the orange dust. Memories of fish dinners Minnie had prepared from Alf's catches came back to Olivia. Or times Alf had caught a couple of big mangrove crabs which Minnie declared 'were sweeter even than dugong'.

A puff of the last of the south-east trade winds skipped across the bay, lifting a lock of her hair, and she could smell the sea, the mangroves, the mudflats, tar from a repaired boat and mock orange blossom in the front yard of a small wooden shuttered house. And it came to Olivia that this was indeed home. Broome was in her blood.

Every morning here held promise ... promise of excitement, adventure, achievement, a feeling that in this remote spot on the north-west coast of the continent almost anything could happen, that it was unlike anywhere else on earth. One was part of a rough, roistering community of many races, ordinary folk doing their ordinary jobs on sh.o.r.e, adventurers, wild and funny misfits, and that great mixed band of men who lived for the sea and its treasures which were sought by the rich and the famous in the great cities of the world who couldn't possibly imagine places like Broome. The realisation that this odd little town and the great emptiness around it had become so much part of her inner self excited Olivia. She recognised how artificial her life in the city had been, that her apparent satisfaction with work at the refuge and life with Gilbert before his stroke was indeed superficial. This was where she really belonged, in the outback where life was still quite raw, the land untamed, the sea magnificently challenging. It was where she had first discarded the emotional baggage she brought from England and discovered within herself new emotions, new aspirations, new abilities beyond her imagination. In Broome she had been reborn, and here she belonged.

She confided these feelings to Tyndall, who understood perfectly. He shared her love of the place, but had to acknowledge in turn that it was his finding of her love in Broome, rather than more physical aspects of his life here, that made his attachment to the place so strong. 'It's like we belong to this place because we belong to each other,' he whispered to her one evening. 'I always felt that if I left here I would never get you back. Do you understand, or am I talking nonsense?'

She laughed a little. 'Nonsense? Of course not, darling. It's beautiful sense. Although I'm quite sure there are a lot of people who think we're crazy staying here, that we're missing out so much on what the world has to offer.' She snuggled up close to him. 'I'm quite happy to let the rest of the world go by so long as you're around.' They were treasuring every moment together, for too well they both knew how joy could be s.n.a.t.c.hed away.

Olivia had asked Yusef to find a small poinciana tree and when she had decided on the right spot in the garden, he dug the hole and Olivia spread the soil around its roots and patted it firmly in place. She stood back and shut her eyes and could see it in the years ahead, rising upwards, its sweeping soft green branches smothered in brilliant gold and orange blossoms, silhouetted against the turquoise waters of the bay.

Later when she was alone, Olivia returned to the freshly planted little tree. Kneeling down, she unwrapped a small jar filled with powdery red soil. She unscrewed the lid and sprinkled the soil from James' first grave around the tree. Then, digging a small hole, she reached into a pocket and took out Hamish's war medal and buried it.

'Now my sons are home at last,' she whispered. 'Be at peace, my boys. Grow strong, little tree.' She lightly touched the feathery leaves and turned to go indoors with tears in her eyes.

Olivia slowly withdrew from her role in the office at Star of the Sea as Maya became increasingly competent. It pleased her that Maya was so committed to the business and that her father got such joy from having her involved. One day as they were getting letters and parcels together for the mail south, Olivia remarked how much Maya seemed to enjoy the business and life in Broome generally.

'I thought you might find it all a little dull after living in the south with so many amenities, so many attractions,' said Olivia.

'But I was white then,' responded Maya almost casually, tightening a knot in the string around a parcel.

Olivia was stunned. 'Whatever do you mean?'

Maya looked up, slightly puzzled at her reaction. 'Well, life down south isn't that great if you're an Aborigine.'

'But you're ... ' paused Olivia, searching for the right word.

'Different?' suggested Maya with a raised eyebrow.

Olivia paced a little nervously around the office. 'No, I don't want to say that. It's just that, well, I really hadn't thought about it much since we came here. You just fitted in so well. Everything seems so ... normal.'

'Ah yes, but that's because this is Broome and Broome is not normal, is it? Being part Aboriginal here isn't much of a problem, is it? n.o.body really makes a big issue of it, do they? You can see it every day in the streets, Aboriginal blood mixed with G.o.d knows how many races.' She flipped a rubber band around a pile of letters, then went on. 'I hid from my real self for most of my life. Now I am being me, and that means being Aboriginal as well. It's pretty easy to do that here, I couldn't do it in Perth, or Fremantle. Down there hardly anyone wants to know an Aborigine, even a white-looking one,' and she laughed, breaking the tension she knew the issue had created between them. 'I can never go back down there, not to live anyway.'

Olivia took Maya's hand in hers. 'Maya, I'm sorry I haven't talked about this with you before. I really took too much for granted. I just haven't thought about how you were adjusting to your Aboriginality.'

'There's nothing for you to be sorry about, Olivia. But I do feel sorry for Georgie. How she has reacted to Minnie's tribe, how she doesn't want anything to do with our people. It saddens me a lot, but I don't think she wants to know. She listens to you more than she listens to me. But I can't change, Olivia. What I've found is too valuable to give up.'

'I know what you're saying, my dear Maya. I know,' said Olivia softly and they embraced.

Maya then hoisted herself up on the desk and motioned Olivia to sit in the swingback chair. 'Sit down and I'll tell you something I've not talked about much to anyone, except Dad.' She paused, looked down for a moment in contemplation, then gave a little sigh. 'Remember after you left here and I wrote to you saying that I had been down the coast to see my family.' Olivia nodded and Maya went on. 'My family,' she repeated thoughtfully. 'Sounds odd doesn't it when you know them-still bush blacks mostly. Anyway, it was fun, it was exciting and they were beautiful and warm and wonderful. But there was much I didn't write because I just couldn't find the right words, and, well, it seemed to be a very private thing. Something very spiritual happened that has changed me forever. It will help you understand why I feel like I do now.'

Maya leaned back, hands on the desk behind her. 'It was the most magical experience, Olivia. Magical.' She then told briefly of the welcome on the beach, the damper and treacle lunch, the walk in the bush with the women. 'Imagine the scene, Olivia. Me in a big straw hat and feeling almost dressed well enough for shopping in Perth, taking off with a band of black women wearing not much more than their old skirts, and I had absolutely no idea of why or where we were going. I was completely unconscious of the outward difference between us. We were family, but I think they felt it more than me at that point. Well, they took me into another world without leaving this one. It was like Alice through the Looking Gla.s.s.'

Maya then told Olivia of how she learned, with Minnie interpreting, that she had a special relations.h.i.+p with certain rocks and trees along the way. She learned about features in the landscape that had significance for all women, sacred places. And then there was a rock overhang, not quite a cave, where there were some ochre paintings on the rock wall, paintings of strange figures. 'It was the most special place, Olivia. I could feel it, right into my heart, my soul. Even before Minnie explained it to me I knew it was special, to them and to me. I can't tell you everything that happened because it's secret.' Maya watched for Olivia's reaction.

'I understand, Maya, truly I do. I know why you must keep it secret. Over the years, Minnie taught me quite a lot about her culture. Remember, I, too, had a special relations.h.i.+p with the same people.'

'Goodness, it must have been a really amazing experience. I mean you were fresh out from England, alone in what must have seemed like the end of the world. I really find it hard to imagine you sitting in that scrub, pregnant, waving a gun at Dad.'

They both laughed, then Maya went on to vaguely describe some of the ceremonies that took place at the sacred site of the women, choosing her words carefully and avoiding detail. 'It was all for me, Olivia, all to make me totally one of them, one of the family, and with every hour memories of my childhood with them came flooding back. Those dreams I used to have in Albany as a kid, they weren't dreams, but reality. I remembered places, words, names, recognised relatives and even some of the children I played with. They remembered me too. It was just so strange and exciting. And that night, back at the camp we danced in the light of the campfire.'

Olivia couldn't conceal her astonishment. 'You danced!'

'Yes. I just had had to. Something in me just took over and I had to dance. I was one of them. It was the proper thing to do.' to. Something in me just took over and I had to dance. I was one of them. It was the proper thing to do.'

Olivia recalled the times she had seen the Aboriginal women dancing at missions and the occasional events staged for visiting government officials, but she had some difficulty putting Maya in the same picture. 'You danced ... in bare feet and ... '

'Yes.'

Olivia gasped. 'Maya, I can't believe it. Weren't you embarra.s.sed?'

'No. Can't you see, Olivia? I was one of them. I am am one of them. It just seemed so right, so natural to let them paint my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and shoulders and face, so natural to get up with them and dance. They understand that I live in another world so removed from theirs, but they know and I know, that we share a spiritual world and this is something really important. I can never deny it, Olivia, never.' one of them. It just seemed so right, so natural to let them paint my b.r.e.a.s.t.s and shoulders and face, so natural to get up with them and dance. They understand that I live in another world so removed from theirs, but they know and I know, that we share a spiritual world and this is something really important. I can never deny it, Olivia, never.'

Olivia rose and they hugged. 'I know what you're saying, my dear Maya. I know. Thank you so much for telling me. I'm so proud of you.'

The next day the mailboat arrived and on the same tide many of the luggers returned to port, now towed in line behind a small steam tug. Maya and Olivia were there to welcome them back and Tyndall boldly jumped down from the gunwale onto the wharf even before the first mooring line had been thrown to envelop them both in a big hug. 'My dear girls! I can't tell you how my heart feels to see you both!'

'How was the trip? Any pearls?' asked Maya.

'All in good time,' Tyndall winked at Olivia. 'And, my beauty, what news do you have? How is that scallywag granddaughter of ours?'

'Raising merry cain at school. The Sisters say they've never had such a handful.'

Maya raised her hands. 'I give up. Trouble is her middle name.'

'We have to bribe her with threats of not being a flower girl at the wedding,' added Olivia with a loving smile.

'Our wedding? wedding? The The wedding? At long last?' Tyndall clutched his brow. 'How can I wait?' wedding? At long last?' Tyndall clutched his brow. 'How can I wait?'

'You'll wait. Now tell us, John, how was the trip?'

Stepping between them, Tyndall linked arms and together they almost danced along the jetty. 'Tremendous. Hit a great patch of old sh.e.l.l. And, if I'm any judge, Toby is going to be very busy and Monsieur Barat very pleased.'

The postwar years were living up to expectations as a time of profit, progress and fun. There was an intensity of living that made everyone buoyant. The industry was booming again after the wartime slump, mechanical advances had brought engines for boats, cars to town and even a truck for the bush mailman, though anyone travelling north or south overland was considered a bit mad. The Bristols now flying an air service were faster, although their schedule was unpredictable. All this and the joy of having Tyndall back in port made Olivia feel like a young girl again, and with an enthusiastic Maya at her side she threw herself into the wedding preparations.

She was working on the invitation list on the verandah one morning when Stan announced that there was a 'bloke from Alf' at the back door. The 'bloke' was a young black from the mission at Beagle Bay, in town with one of the Brothers helping with shopping for supplies. 'Me Tommy, missus. Alf told me t'give ya message.'

'Thank you, Tommy,' acknowledged Olivia.

'Alf says he found grave bilong Niah. Says ya would understand.'

Olivia was stunned. Her hand went to her mouth to control her shock. 'Tommy, can you tell me anything else? How does Alf know this?'

'Me an' Alf cuttin' in old cemetery and he see some sh.e.l.l on a stone an' ask the Brother. He lookit up in some book.' The boy bobbed his head to reinforce his words. 'Alf sure. Said youse were t'tell everyone.'