They had buried Edith and subsequently spent Christmas at Alicia Hall. Kitty had then taken Charlie to the vineyards in the Adelaide Hills, where she had encouraged him to engage with the manager there, in preparation for taking over the business. Then they had travelled to Coober Pedy so that his mother could show him the opal mine. She had insisted he stay there for two weeks to get to know the workings of the industry while she travelled back to Broome.
At least his extended time in Adelaide had given him a chance to meet up regularly with his oldest friend, Ted Strehlow. He had known Ted since the age of eleven when they had slept next to each other in a dormitory at Immanuel College. Both had continued to the University of Adelaide, and whereas Charlie had slogged away at his Economics degree, Ted had read Classics and English, but was determined to become an anthropologist and go on to study the history of the Aboriginals. It was a world away from the business of making money from the labour of others, and Charlie couldn’t help but envy him for it. He’d have done anything to be free of the responsibilities that lay ahead.
‘Charlie, are you nearly ready to leave?’ Kitty called to him.
‘Yes, Mother,’ he sighed, ‘coming right away.’
*
Charlie went through the day trying hard to be mentally present with a tailor who was proud to have the honour of making his first pearling master’s suits. Then it was off to the office by the harbour to meet his new secretary, Elise Forsythe. She was indeed pretty, in an insipid English way that Charlie thought could not hold a candle to the dark, exotic beauty of Cat. Afterwards, he attended a meeting with Noel Donovan and the rest of the senior staff. He sat at the mahogany table in the boardroom, listening to the conversation about the Japanese competitors.
‘They call it a “cultured” pearl, but how can they possibly believe that the word “culture” can be attached to something that is a crude copy, as opposed to being fashioned by nature alone?’ His mother gave a disparaging snort of laughter.
‘I hear, ma’am, that Mikimoto is flooding the markets,’ said the company accountant. ‘His spherical pearls are almost indistinguishable from the natural, and he has recently opened another store in Paris. They are called South Sea pearls and—’
‘If people wish to buy cheap imitations of the real thing, let them get on with it,’ Kitty retorted. ‘I’m sure such a thing would never be countenanced here. Now, gentlemen, if there’s no more business, I shall take my son to see his new office.’ She stood up and the men followed, their chair legs scraping against the wooden floor. She swept out of the room and Charlie followed her down the hallway, along which were offices piled high with paper trays. The clerks within them gave servile nods as Kitty and Charlie passed by. His mother unlocked a door at the end of a corridor and ushered him inside.
‘Now, darling, what do you think of this? I’ve had it fitted out for you as a surprise.’
Charlie stood looking at a gleaming partner’s desk, a beautiful antique globe and an exquisite black lacquered sideboard painted delicately with gold butterflies.
‘Goodness, Mother, it’s wonderful, thank you. I only hope I can live up to everyone’s expectations.’ Charlie walked to the window and gazed out at the dock, seeing the small train that ran the mile down to the town chugging steadily on its way.
‘Of course you will. The pearling business is in your blood.’
‘Mother.’ Charlie sat down heavily in the high-backed leather chair. ‘I don’t know if I am ready for all this. You have run the business so magnificently for all these years.’
‘My darling, all I have been is a caretaker for the Mercer empire, bequeathed to you by both your father and your uncle. In the twenty-one years I have watched you grow, you have never given me cause to doubt your suitability. You will make a worthy successor to your father.’
‘Thank you, Mother.’ Charlie couldn’t help but note that his mother took no credit for herself.
Her bright blue eyes studied him intently. ‘You have been everything that I, your grandmother and your father could ever have wished for as an heir. I am so proud of you, Charlie. Just one word of caution . . .’ His mother’s glance moved away to the window and the sea beyond it.
‘Yes, Mother?’
‘Don’t ever let love blind you. It is the downfall of us all. Now’ – she forced a smile onto her face and stood up – ‘the crews have been prepping the luggers during the lay-up season. Come down to the docks and inspect their work with me.’
‘Of course, Mother.’
As he stood up and followed her out of the office, Charlie felt his stomach turn at her words.
*
That night, at eleven precisely, having seen the light in his mother’s bedroom go out, Charlie left the house as stealthily as the cat he was going to meet, and crossed the terrace into the garden. The grass was springy beneath his feet – the result of Fred’s constant ministrations and his mother’s continual optimism that one day she would be able to create a garden that would not succumb to the red mud that streamed across it during the Big Wet. She had given up on the rose beds, however, and these days the roses were planted in large pots around the terrace and carried to shelter the moment a storm threatened. Unbeknown to her, the rose shed had provided a dry and private area for the two young people to meet. Locked assiduously every night by Fred, Cat had managed to ‘borrow’ the key and Charlie had taken it to the locksmith and had a copy made.
He’d turned the rock that sat outside from the red side to the green side earlier. This was the signal they both used to indicate they would meet later that evening when everyone was in bed. They had weathered many storms inside the shed, the roses forming a scented bower as they had lain between them on a rough blanket on the floor and declared their love for each other. And tonight, he had something very special to give her.
He’d spotted it in Ted’s apartment when they’d been knocking back some beers to celebrate the New Year. An obsessional collector, Ted’s rooms were filled with all manner of stones, shells and tribal artefacts that he had amassed on his travels. This piece was a small, gleaming amber stone, with what appeared to be a minuscule ant caught inside it, trapped there for millennia. Ted had given it to him when he’d seen Charlie’s avid interest, and the very next day he’d taken it to a jeweller on King William Street to have it fashioned into an engagement ring for Cat. The colour of the stone would match her eyes perfectly.
Charlie smiled as he remembered when he had first asked Cat to marry him. It had been the evening before he was to leave for boarding school in Adelaide. He had been eleven years old and she had held him as he wept out of fear and loss onto her small, soft shoulder.
‘One day, I won’t have to do as Mother says, and I’ll come back here and we will be married. What am I to do without you?’ he’d moaned. ‘Wait for me, won’t you, my Cat?’