My Island Homicide

by Catherine Titasey

  ‘You bloody half-caste people. You come up here and think you know everything. Ossi kole man, still making decisions for us.’ She let go of my arm and walked to the door. ‘If you don’t drop the charges against my innocent husband, you’ll be in big trouble.’ She turned and stormed out.

  The man reached across and placed his hand on my now sore arm. ‘I’m so sorry about my friend.’ His touch was tender, his voice was calming. ‘You must understand this: she is very upset your people have made a terrible mistake. You should have another look at the case against her husband.’

  ‘Thank you, but you should leave now.’ My voice sounded far away, disconnected from me.

  ‘Yawo.’

  He picked up his hat and left as Lency rushed in. ‘Are you all right? Lala’s a proper strong head. I couldn’t stop her. I tried to call Jack but he’s not answering.’

  ‘I’m fine.’ My arm was aching badly. ‘Who’s the man?’

  ‘There he goes,’ she said, pointing through the window. He and Leilani were walking to a car parked across the road. ‘Strange. I’ve never seen him before.’

  Lency left after I assured her I was fine for the tenth time. I lifted the sleeve of my shirt. The four red welts would fade in a day or two. I considered having Leilani charged with assaulting a police officer, but her behaviour seemed petty. Assaults on officers are not uncommon. I’d received my share of thick lips, bruises and bites. And being spat on. Leilani’s assault was not serious and I would rather avoid the paperwork.

  I looked down and found my desk was covered in feathers, handfuls of feathers. They must have fallen from the band of the man’s hat. I scooped them up and put them into the bin.

  Jack barged in. ‘What was that about?’

  Jenny followed him and insisted on checking out my welts. ‘Charge her with assault.’

  ‘Honestly, it’s not worth it.’

  ‘Thea,’ said Jenny, ‘what did you tell Shay?’

  I hate it when people use my logic against me. ‘Shay had just been beaten up by her boyfriend, Jenny. Leilani’s upset because her husband’s been charged with murder and her mother’s just died. Surely we can cut her some slack.’

  Jack and Jenny hounded me until I promised them I would write a statement. Then I promised myself I wouldn’t.

  ‘I almost forgot,’ said Jack. ‘Robby called the station last night to make a complaint about a trespasser. He went onto his verandah to have a beer near midnight and saw a figure run out of his yard and up the track to Millman Hill. Robby raced downstairs but wasn’t quick enough. The door to the storeroom was open, the shelves had been ransacked, but he didn’t think anything was missing. He couldn’t understand why the dog didn’t bark.’

  ‘Did you make a record for future reference?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘Thanks, Jack.’

  I managed to forget about Leilani’s tantrum until Jonah and I were in the shower that night.

  ‘What are those marks on your arm?’

  ‘Mosquito bites.’ I put my arms around his neck to distract him. The last thing I needed was another person hassling me to charge Leilani with assault.

  Chapter 33

  At the end of the week Jonah and I headed to Friday Island as usual. When I woke up on Saturday morning, my whole body was aching. Jonah suggested we take a trip to a waterfall on Prince of Wales Island.

  ‘The tides are good and it takes half an hour, tops, to walk from the beach.’

  ‘I dunno,’ I said. ‘I feel like crap. I can hardly move.’

  ‘All right. You stay and rest. I’ll go for a quick fish. I wanna try that spot close to here. There should be matha fingermark.’

  I was on edge all day and even though I was exhausted, I couldn’t sleep. It was like ants were crawling under my skin. Come to think of it, I’d been feeling lethargic for a couple of days so I’d probably picked up a virus. I stayed in the cottage while Jonah went fishing or took the dogs walking. There wasn’t much to do, but lie down, try and read, get up, sit on the verandah. But I couldn’t focus on anything. With nothing to keep my mind busy, I started to have irrational thoughts about my relationship with Jonah: Would it last? Why doesn’t he talk about Kuriz? Am I as lucky as Jenny said? On a rational level, I was settled and figured we would be together for a while, so it must have been the virus making me feel nathakind, out of sorts.

  On Sunday night, I was sitting at the table, staring into space while Jonah was at the sink. The firm grip of his hands on my shoulders made me jump. His hands moved in a slow, strong rhythm, and a sense of calm filled the void that had consumed me for days.

  ‘You’re feeling nathakind. What’s going down, no, what’s going on?’ His voice was soft and reassuring.

  My eyes stung with tears. I wanted to talk about our relationship. I had to, but didn’t know what to say or how to start. We had been together for four months yet hadn’t spoken once about where our relationship was going.

  ‘Just exhausted, I suppose, probably a virus.’

  ‘How do you feel?’

  ‘Well, I feel sick, but I just . . . we’ve never talked about us being together. I mean, obviously, we are together, but I don’t know where it’s going or—’

  ‘It’s going great. I’m happy. Are you happy?’

  ‘I’m very happy. In fact, the happiest—’

  ‘Then that’s good.’ He kissed the top of my head. ‘You know, you keep trying to use that, what’s it called, where you think and think and . . .?’

  ‘Logic.’

  ‘Yeah. Things will work out. We’ll be fine.’

  Jonah’s comments about us being happy and letting things be made sense. If we were both happy, there wasn’t anything to talk about. Don’t fix what ain’t broke! Emotionally I felt a bit better, perhaps even reassured; I’d just have to wait out this virus. I wasn’t unwell enough to call a sickie.

  As we walked to the station on Monday, Jonah took my hand, sending a tingle over my entire body, warming me against the frigid wind.

  ‘The south-easterly has got stronger,’ I said.

  ‘The sager come more stronger,’ he said. ‘Yu matha lego Broken English.’

  ‘I still feel silly talking in a language that’s not my own.’

  ‘Now you know how I feel and why I make so many mistakes.’

  ‘I love the way you talk. Don’t change it.’

  When we reached the station, Jonah turned to me and kissed me.

  ‘I love you,’ he said and walked off. I couldn’t move for a few moments, or close my open mouth. I floated into work.

  Jack had taped a notice in the kitchen saying that Kelly’s sister, a vet, was arriving on TI and would desex dogs and cats, by appointment, in a makeshift surgery at the nurses’ group share accommodation. I emailed Kelly straightaway to make bookings for Sissy, Phoebe and her brothers.

  I flexed off at four after Mum texted to say the flight had landed on Horn Island. I’d planned to walk to the wharf to pick her up from the ferry but was too exhausted. Jenny said I looked like crap and insisted on driving me.

  Mum stood out from the other passengers, not for her dark skin or her kurid afro hair. Those features identified her as Islander, but there was something else. Whereas most Islander women wore colourful baggy island dresses or big loose T-shirts and thongs, Mum had style, sophistication. Her pink knitted singlet with pearls around the neckline complemented her chocolate slacks and leather sandals. She was painfully thin compared to her rotund Islander sisters.

  We hugged and she looked me up and down.

  ‘Is this all you brought?’ I asked.

  ‘And those two eskies,’ she said, pointing, ‘and that suitcase. You look tired. Are you working too much?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ I introduced her to Jenny, who helped lug Mum’s baggage to the car.

  ‘Jenny,
would you mind driving down the main street?’ asked Mum. ‘I want to see how different it is.’

  Sure enough, the black and white dog was on the footpath and as soon as we approached, it raced beside us.

  ‘That dog is part-greyhound,’ said Mum laughing. ‘It reminds me of a school friend of your brothers. He had a few dogs and a pig and they followed him to school every morning. I loved watching him. He’d get to the gate and talk to the dogs and the pig, and they’d turn around to walk, and trot, home. You don’t get that in the city.’

  After we waved Jenny off outside the unit, Mum looked around. She gestured to my complex of units. ‘These weren’t here last time I came up in, what, the early-nineties,’ she said. ‘Do you know those rain trees have been there for more than 50 years?’ She didn’t wait for an answer but looked in the direction of Jonah’s house. ‘Greenhill. Have you caught up with any family?’

  ‘Family? I thought they all left. Although apparently I am related to Lency Edau and a woman named Izzy.’

  ‘Izzy Josef? I heard her mother had a son who was born brain damaged. That was long after we left. Izzy was the same age as Thomas.’

  ‘So you know Izzy?’

  ‘I knew her parents.’ She was staring at Yenah’s house. ‘Oh, there’s so much that’s happened.’ She snapped to reality. ‘Are you still seeing that man?’

  But I wasn’t really listening. I was signalling with my hand to the thin, pitiful man with thick scars on his cheeks, standing at the gate to my driveway. I walked towards him but he turned and scurried off.

  ‘Franz?’ I called out.

  ‘What was that about?’ asked Mum.

  ‘Nothing. Guess who lives in that last house?’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Yenah Azmy.’

  She stared again at Yenah’s house and whispered, ‘Lily Bera.’

  I mentioned Jonah’s mother and she mentioned someone else? Maybe Lily was a third friend.

  ‘How is she?’ Mum asked.

  ‘Lily? How would I know?’

  ‘Yenah, how’s Yenah?’

  ‘Yenah? She’s fine. Who’s Lily?’

  ‘Lily is Yenah’s English name. Bera is her maiden name. We started working together as domestics at the hospital in 1959. We were inseparable. Dances, fishing, working. There were three of us. The third was Elsie, but her nickname was Iris.’ Her tone changed. ‘The three of us got married around the same time. Come, let’s go upstairs. Oh, who’s this?’

  Phoebe had pushed through the cat flap on the screen door and was brushing against Mum’s legs.

  The dogs were scratching at the laundry door. I let them in and they rushed to Mum. I introduced Buzarr and Sissy and showed Mum to her room, itching for her to continue her story. Once we got all the luggage upstairs, Mum started unpacking the eskies of exotic cheeses and pastes and dips, and a box of fine foods and crackers with flash names like wafers and lavash. She knew I’d only have basic food. At home, Mum kept the cheapest water crackers for me and ham and cheddar cheese. She refused to waste good money on what she and Dad called my ‘Neanderthal palate’.

  Mum was quiet, concentrating as she unpacked. A couple of times, I found her shaking her head, then staring into the distance. I couldn’t help myself. ‘Mum, you started talking about Iris.’

  ‘Yes.’ She put some cheese in the pantry. ‘God, what am I doing?’

  ‘Mum, you’re miles away. What’s going on?’

  ‘Oh, darling. Just being here has brought back all these memories. Things I’d forgotten, tried very hard to forget.’

  ‘What things?’ I knew I was on shaky ground here.

  She sighed. ‘It took Iris years to fall pregnant, not like Lily and me. After the baby, she should have been happy, but she became sad, very sad . . .’

  ‘Mum?’

  ‘She was the life of the party, a real comedian. Matha laugh, make us proper gussor. Then the baby, Coral, changed her.’ She let out another long sigh and handed me some deli parcels wrapped in butcher’s paper to squeeze into the already full fridge. I didn’t want to interrupt her so I put them in the freezer. ‘Your father had been transferred to Cairns and we had less than a week left on TI. The three of us were trying to spend as much time together. Lily and I went around to Iris’s house one day, with our children in prams. Lily had three girls and a baby boy, Kibbim, his name was. I had your brothers then. We wanted her to come and see the visiting navy ship. We were always trying to cheer her up those days. Lily waited downstairs with our kids and I knocked on the door. No answer. Iris should have been home. I came downstairs, confused, then followed a muffled noise to the shed. I found her husband with a young girl, Iris’s niece. He didn’t stop. He just flicked his chin to me as if to say, go away. I told Lily and we agonised about telling Iris. Your father and I left days later. I haven’t spoken to Lily since. I just couldn’t.’

  ‘Where’s Iris? Will you see her now you are here?’

  Mum eyed me with suspicion. ‘Hang on, how well do you know Lily?’

  ‘We’re having dinner with her tonight,’ I said.

  ‘Really?’ Her hands flew to her mouth and she took a few deep breaths. ‘Well, it’s been 40 years, you know, and I’m not getting any younger. Long enough not to talk to your best friend.’ She suddenly seemed revitalised, piling packets and jars on the bench with her usual energetic speed. ‘Lily and her husband treated your father like family. I’ll get the food from my suitcase.’

  ‘Mum, there is something I have to tell you.’

  ‘It sounds serious.’ She handed me some flat round tins with pictures of grape leaves on them.

  ‘I have a boyfriend, so . . .’

  ‘I’m so happy for you. I expected you to be working so hard . . .’ She paused. ‘Is your boyfriend coming to dinner? You’ll have to check with Lily. Yu no sabe ilan man. They don’t like surprises.’

  ‘She won’t mind,’ I said. Just as I was about to explain about Jonah, the screen door downstairs slammed. The dogs rushed to the door at the top of the stairs and skidded on the lino.

  ‘What a commotion,’ said Mum as Jonah entered the lounge room. ‘Hello. I’m Masalgi, Ebithea’s mother.’

  ‘Welcome back,’ said Jonah, crushing Mum into a hug.

  ‘What family are you from?’

  ‘Mum, this is Jonah, who is really Kibbim, Lily’s baby.’

  ‘Yu lie.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Kibbim was so small and skinny. Shuddup.’ She waved one hand in the air and put the other over her mouth. She was fighting back tears. This was not my educated, cultured and reserved mother. This was an island woman who looked like my mother.

  Mum threw herself into Kibbim’s, no, Jonah’s arms, howling. ‘Kibbim, my baby. It’s been too long. Didn’t Lily tell you?’ Jonah and I looked at each other. The floor shifted. ‘She must have.’

  Then it hit me. Tyko. The boy who smashed the window at the Railway. I felt sick. Was Mum about to tell me that Jonah and I were cousins or half-siblings and I had been traditionally adopted to Mum? I would do more than smash a window. Surely Yenah would have forbidden it months ago, but what if she didn’t know? Perhaps Mum had had an affair with Jonah’s father or uncle in Cairns or maybe I had been adopted from someone who’d had a secret affair with Jonah’s dad? It was too confusing and I couldn’t think clearly.

  ‘Are you sure she didn’t tell you?’

  I held my balled fists behind my back. ‘Tell us what, Mum?’

  ‘I was there when Lily went into labour. Kaigus was working on the cargo boats. You weren’t due for another two months. She was so happy when you were born, a boy, until she realised you would probably die. Didn’t she tell you?’ Tears streamed down her face.

  I was relieved and confused at the same time. So we weren’t related and the baby obviously survived. If there was a happy ending,
why was she howling?

  ‘You struggled for a few days till Kaigus came back from crayfishing. As soon as he sat down next to your crib, you picked up. He didn’t leave your side and talked and sang to you the whole time. He named you Kibbim after the small, dark fish with a very painful sting. He said although you were small, you’d be strong like a kibbim.

  ‘And I was still feeding William, so I gave you susu to make sure you had extra. Before our eyes, you filled out your long skinny arms and legs and you survived. Now look yu.’ She was beaming. ‘Where’s Lily?’

  ‘She’s at home,’ said Jonah.

  ‘Come, we go.’

  We set off for Yenah’s house. Mum was between Jonah and me, gripping our hands. But I had a bad taste in my mouth recalling that Mum and Yenah hadn’t spoken for 40 years. Jonah called for his mother as we got to the top step. Yenah came out, wiping floury hands on her sweater. ‘My boy, that tap you been fix—’

  She stopped at the sight of Mum, who let go of our hands. It was a stand-off. I found myself holding my breath.

  Mum opened her arms and moved towards Yenah. Her voice was faint. ‘Lily?’

  Yenah flicked the sweater back over her shoulder. ‘Rosie. E been too long.’

  Rosie? I never knew my mother had another name! I wasn’t game to look at Mum’s face, but a shiny trail coursed from each of Yenah’s eyes and she sucked her lips into her mouth. They moved to each other and hugged, Mum towering over Yenah. My eyes and nose were streaming, but I didn’t want to sniff or move. From the corner of my eye, I saw Jonah make a hand sign and we slipped away to give them a moment alone.

  Chapter 34

  We took the dogs for a swim at the beach while Mum and Yenah caught up. I was still feeling a bit wasted from my recently acquired lurgy so I sat on the sand while Jonah threw sticks for the dogs. I figured Mum would call me if she wanted us to come over.

  Jonah defrosted some pesto and tossed it through the Barilla pasta, no other brand would do. As much as the pesto looked like slimy mould, it was delicious. I ate, thinking how lucky I was to be with Jonah. I was washing up and Jonah was leafing through a cookbook when Mum walked in a few hours later. She was smiling, her eyes red. She carried two enamel bowls, one on top of the other. ‘Lily says sorry. Here is your coconut curry whitefish. And rice.’