"Would you?" Tony asked eagerly. "If you could just give the list to Armstrong and ask him about the cost, I can pick them up in the truck once it's going again. Then I might have my Indian fixed before you leave and I can take you for a ride along the Esplanade!"
I blushed. Tony had evidently seen me staring at his motorcycle and knew how much I wanted to fly on one. I plucked the list from inside the truck. "I'll take care of that now, then."
"Thank you." The clink of metal on metal ended in more swearing, so I hurried up the street toward Armstrong's Motor and Cycle Shop.
I pushed the door open and was greeted by a similar scene, though the disassembled Triumph was smaller than Tony's truck and the swearing was mostly in English, unlike Tony's vivid Italian.
"Good afternoon," I began.
A figure unfolded from behind the mess of muddy steel and stood up. "I'm sorry, miss, I didn't see you. Please pardon the language."
I laughed. "I hear worse than that at the fish market every day. One day, I'm going to tell them I understand Italian swear words." I looked closely at him and recognised the man who'd come second in yesterday's race. "OH! Congratulations on your near-win yesterday. You rode a very good race."
Mr Armstrong snorted. "Good enough to come second. The race wasn't all I lost yesterday. Lost a brand-new bike, too, unless I can fix it." He gestured at the mess.
"I thought you rode a Sun yesterday, not a Triumph." I stepped closer. "This wasn't your bike. The man who kept pace with Tony rode this one."
"My bike now, after it's taken a dip in the river. It might never go again. I wanted to compare it to the Sun and a friend of mine agreed to ride it in the race so we could see how she performed. He said if it was good enough for a half-day trial here, it'd survive the jungles where he lives. I ordered in two, 'specially. One for him and one for me. He even came down to Fremantle to test it out. He ships out tomorrow and this was supposed to be his. Instead, I had to give him mine – still in the crate it arrived in – and pray I can fix this one for myself."
I wanted William's bike with a lust I couldn't explain. I swore that if he rejected me, I'd return and buy myself a motorcycle with my savings. A throbbing engine between my legs far more powerful than any man. I remembered the paper in my hands. "Speaking of fixing motorcycles from yesterday's race, Tony Basile asked me to stop by and give you a list of the parts he needs. He said he could swing by later with his truck to pick them up."
Mr Armstrong nodded, wiped his muddy hands on his overalls, and reached for the list. "I don't know if we have all of these. Maybe at the Perth showroom. Might have to order some in. Better tell Basile..."
"You'll see him before I do," I said smoothly. "You tell him what you do and don't have when he turns up this afternoon. I'm going to a dance at the Hydrodome tonight and I can't go smelling of fish."
He laughed. "No, you can't. They'll think you're a mermaid who's traded her tail for legs for a night of revelry. And we all know how that story ends."
I summoned a smile that I didn't feel. "No, I'm not sure that I do, Mr Armstrong."
He opened his mouth to say something, but the shop door flew open and William marched in. My heart leaped as my mouth grew dry.
"Armstrong! I hope you don't think I'm taking that to the jungle with me in pieces. It'll be full of crabs in an hour – less if the bloody things are migrating. I need it on the wharf before dark in one piece."
"You took her for a swim, McGregor. I had to get a truck to pull her out – a foot deep in mud, she was. It'll take me a week to clean her out." He held up his hands in supplication. "But I liked the model so much I ordered myself one, too. Should be on the wharf, if the lumpers haven't loaded it aboard already. I'll keep this one instead. Not like I'll want to ride it in a hurry – my Sun beat you easily."
William nodded, his lips forming a fleeting smile before it was gone. "Fair enough. Thank you." He turned on his heel and walked out. For a moment, our eyes met and my lips formed his name, but no sound came out. His gaze slid over me as if I didn't exist and he didn't slow his step in the slightest.
The door banged behind him as I felt a hot tear trickle down my cheek. He'd seen me and deliberately ignored me. Why?
"That was rude, but you'll have to excuse McGregor. He works at a rough mining colony near Ceylon. A craggy rock called Christmas Island. No place for politeness there."
Numbly, I nodded, swivelling to face Mr Armstrong. I had to clear my throat twice before my voice returned. "What were you saying before about...about mermaids? And how their stories end?"
Mr Armstrong grinned. "It's an old fairy tale, miss. A mermaid who wanted a soul had to find a man to love her. He did, but he found someone better. She danced all night upon knives and the only way she could save herself was to kill her beloved. Instead, she threw herself into the waves and drowned." He shook his head. "Sad story. All mermaid stories are. Unhappy creatures, neither fish nor woman. Halfway between two worlds and part of neither."
A mermaid taking her own life instead of the unfaithful man? There was a fanciful tale indeed. No real mermaid would be so forgiving. I bade him good day and set off home. I had a dance to prepare for.
Twenty-Five
"What do you have around your neck?" I stared at the black bow peeping out of Tony's starched collar. "Shouldn't you be wearing a tie?"
He straightened it nervously. "It is a tie – a bow tie. Mum said I should dress up properly and you...you look beautiful."
I blushed. It wasn't a word I'd heard often to describe me.
"Where did you get that necklace? The beads are pretty."
I gulped. I'd asked Charles to set a string of pale blue pearls for me and he'd done a beautiful job. This was the first occasion where I'd worn the pearl choker – or any necklace at all – and I kept reaching up to touch the strange thing at my throat. I managed to smile and avoid answering by focussing on fastening my shoes.
I called goodbye to Merry and she croaked out, "Enjoy yourself." It sounded like she started to say something else, but a coughing fit kept her from saying more. I promised I'd do as she said. Quietly, I closed the door behind me and followed Tony out to the street.
"Where's your truck?" I asked.
He grinned. "I thought we'd take the tram tonight. From your door to South Beach, without making you climb into truck cabs or soil that pretty blue skirt in the dust kicked up by my motorcycle." A pause. "Thank you for going to get those parts for me. I think some have to come by ship, so I'll be waiting a while. When you come back from visiting your mother, I'll have to take you for a ride."
"Sure," I replied. If and when I returned, I'd have my own motorcycle and we could go for a ride together.
We boarded the tram, Tony paid our fares, and he followed me to one of the few remaining seats. It looked like there were a lot of people headed to the Hydrodome tonight – and Tony wasn't the only one wearing a bow tie.
The end of the line was South Beach, just outside the huge, open, two-storey building that was the Hydrodome. The crush of people spilled out and we made for the tearooms, as Tony wanted to treat me to dinner. Tony ordered something with chicken, but I insisted on the fish because I knew we'd sold her fresh fillets that very morning.
"You spend every day working with fish – don't you grow tired of eating it? I know if I never saw another fish again, I wouldn't miss it." He laughed.
I tried to smile. "I don't know how long it will be until I eat fresh fish again. The food on the ship might not be very fresh at all. To me, this will always be the taste of home." I carefully forked a morsel into my mouth. Dhufish, I was certain.
His chicken arrived and food monopolised our mouths for some time. The sun slowly set over the ocean as I heard the faint sounds of the band tuning their instruments in the dance hall upstairs. Soon it would be time to dance.
Twenty-Six
The jazz crept into my ears, my feet, my blood and very bones. My body moved to the music as if of its own accord. I danced thro
ugh air instead of water, but it felt just as effortless.
"I should have taken you dancing sooner, if I knew you were so good on your feet," Tony said. Admiration shone through his eyes, but he wasn't the only one. Other men stared, too, to the irritation of their dance partners.
The song ended and the singer announced, "Our next one is an old favourite for all of you who are missing someone, or you know you're going to, when you say good night." The band launched into the opening bars and he started singing. "Come on, sing along. I know you all know the words."
I stumbled at the first line of There is Somebody Waiting for Me. This was the song I'd accidentally started singing along to on the Trevessa, with disastrous results that still made my skin crawl.
No. Some stories do end well for mermaids and we're not stupid enough to dance on knives for men who don't value us.
I excused myself, telling Tony I needed some air, and slipped outside. The moment my shoes hit the sand, I kicked them off and scooped them up. Not dancing on knives, but near enough. The sand between my toes was soothing and the moonlight caressing the water called to me. I wanted to step right into the water, dress and all, but there were too many people about. I sighed and stepped onto the jetty boardwalk surrounding the swimming baths which held up the shark-proof netting. My bare feet padded softly on the boards, a soothing rhythm that made me want to sing even more. How could I stay silent with such music in my heart?
I reached the end of the boardwalk, where it turned abruptly to fence off the deep end of the baths. I held tight to a light post and breathed deeply. More than ever, I wanted to step off into the water.
Heavy footsteps sounded on the boards behind me and I turned, expecting to see Tony. No. This man was broader across the shoulders and taller. He hunched over, shadowing his hanging head as if he wanted to escape the music as much as I did.
"That bloody song," he muttered.
My heart flew. "William," I breathed.
He stopped, perhaps six feet from me, and leaned against another light post. He pulled something out of his pocket, unscrewed the top, then held the flask to his lips. Three sizeable gulps later, he returned the bottle to its hiding place in his jacket.
I debated what to say. Should I simply greet him and ask if he enjoyed the music, making small talk like humans do? Or should I confront him, asking him why he'd been so rude in the motorcycle shop today?
William stole my thunder and spoke first. "I should have dived in after you. Never mind the sharks or the storm. I should have fought the men who held me back and jumped out of that damn lifeboat to help you. Better than living as a coward." He spat in the ocean. "You might have accepted me then, but not the man I am now. My heart died that day and I wish I'd died with it."
Tears sprang to my eyes and I couldn't speak. The heartbreak in his tone hammered every word home – another nail through my chest, deep into my heart. I heard the boards shift under his shoes as he walked away. Blindly, I tried to follow him, but my foot met only air and I splashed into the water instead.
Swearing, I dropped like a stone as my layers of clothing drank the salty water. Undeterred, I waded along the seabed to the shallows.
"Oh my God, Maria! Are you all right?" Tony raced into the water to help me, as if he hadn't seen me dive into the fishing boat harbour on more than one occasion.
"I'm fine," I said, embarrassed by the number of people on the beach, staring. "I slipped, is all."
Tony draped his jacket around my shoulders and steered me through the gawkers. Somehow, he acquired a towel that he passed me to me. I patted my skirt with it, but it became soaked before I was anywhere near dry. I looked around for William, but he was nowhere to be found. In the time it had taken me to walk ashore, he'd disappeared.
Sighing heavily, I let Tony take me back to the tram and home. Maybe mermaids shouldn't dance.
Twenty-Seven
"Thank you for a lovely evening, Tony," I said as I reached Merry's veranda.
He followed me up the steps slowly. "I should have come out for air with you. Instead, I went to get you a drink and when I got outside, I couldn't find you anywhere. Anything could have happened to you when you slipped – you might have drowned! I'd never have forgiven myself if you'd been hurt."
I shrugged. "Maybe I should have stayed inside and danced longer. I'm fine. Really. Now tonight's even more unforgettable."
We both laughed as companionably as we did at work.
"Your ship leaves tomorrow, doesn't it?" he asked and I nodded. Both the next steamer for Southampton and the Islander left tomorrow. "So this is goodbye."
I didn't want to admit it. He was my friend, as dear to me as Merry. But I might never see him again.
"Maria. If I begged you to stay with me, I mean, STAY with me, now and always, would you not go? Would you marry me, Maria?"
Once the words were out, he couldn't unsay them. They hung in the air like the rail bridge had before it had crashed into the river and swirled out to sea. The one that had nearly killed us both.
"Tony..."
My friend silenced me. "Wait. Don't answer that. This is the wrong time to ask you. You have to go. I know that. You need to see your mother and it's not fair to ask you to choose between me and your family. Family is important. But please...don't forget me. There's a home here for you with me if you want it. Answer me when you come home. When you're ready." He took a deep, shaky breath. "I want to ask something else. Something I need you to answer." I waited. "May I kiss you goodbye?"
He stepped closer, advancing slowly as if I were a small creature he didn't want to frighten away. I fought down my tears and forced myself to answer, "Yes."
Tony's hands shook as he reached to cup my face. I stood still, unsure how to proceed, and let my friend guide our first kiss.
He smelled of peppermint – he'd been sucking the things since dinner. Now I knew why.
Tony pursed his lips and pressed them to mine in a gentle, chaste kiss that warmed my heart. But no more. After that brief contact, he pulled away.
"Good night. Safe voyage and may God bring you safe home again."
"Good night," I called after his retreating back, wishing I knew where home truly was.
Twenty-Eight
"Do you have everything?" Merry asked, eyeing my steamer trunk. Even with my hat, gloves, shoes and coat draped across the top, the huge thing was still visible. I wasn't looking forward to dragging it down to the harbour.
I nodded. I'd packed and repacked the trunk so many times, I couldn't remember what had stayed and what would come with me. The exception was the books in the bottom. I'd packed the book Captain Foster wrote and my own, handwritten notebooks. I'd painstakingly recorded my memories of every conversation with William, in the hope that it would help me find him. Now that I understood the words, I realised just how much he'd said. How much I wished I'd been able to answer him.
A cup of tea clinked to the table in front of me. "Are you certain this is what you want?" Merry's grey eyes were filled with concern.
I took a deep breath. "Yes." My eyes filled with tears, threatening to spill over.
"What about Tony?"
"Tony wants me to stay. He wants me to stay so much he asked me to marry him last night." Merry opened her mouth to comment, so I continued, "But he said he didn't want an answer now. He wants me to tell him when I return."
"Will you?"
"Will I what?"
Merry sighed and sat at the table, across from me. "Will you return, and will you accept his offer? He's been sweet on you for years. Surely you've seen it."
I bowed my head. I had, but many other men looked at me the same way. I'd long since learned that it was the nature of a siren to attract men like I did. "I don't know if I'll return, Aunt Merry. William has my heart...and I believe I hold his, too. I need to set things to rest with William before I can answer anything more about my future – including where and who I spend it with. I must go." I didn't want to meet her eyes. My tears w
ould spill over if she so much as mentioned Tony's name again. He was a good man who didn't deserve a siren. He deserved a woman who would stand by his side through all things, which I could never promise to do.
"You must follow your heart," Merry said softly. "If it leads you far from here, I wish you every happiness, and if it leads you back here, you will always find a home in this house." I looked up in surprise. "Perhaps one day you will even bring children here. Now, don't discount the idea – you may find a man you wish to make your husband and children seem to come naturally when you have a husband in the house." She winked and I couldn't help but laugh.
"Merry, the chance of me ever settling down with a husband and children..."
She smiled. "The future holds many things for you, I'm sure, and happiness, too." She picked up her cup and drank the dregs of her tea. The last rays of afternoon sun slanted through the window, glinting on the gold edging on her cup.
Time to go.
Our eyes met and we both knew it was time. We rose and I rounded the table to her side. I'd never touched her and somehow I felt the occasion demanded it, yet I didn't know how.
Merry came to my rescue, as she had on the Trevean. Her frail-looking arms wrapped firmly around me, with more strength than I'd believed possible. She tilted her head up and kissed my cheek. "It has been a pleasure and a privilege to help you. You've been like a daughter to me, though I have no children. Take care, Maria Stella Maris, Maria Speranza...and any name you choose to take in the future."
"Thank you. Thank you...for everything you've done for me, Merry." I didn't feel like my words were anywhere near enough to convey my gratitude, but they made Merry smile.
I stepped into my shoes, pulled on my coat, and slid my hat down over my hair. Lastly, I slipped on my gloves. I grasped the steamer trunk's handle and heaved. And swore.
Merry laughed and followed me out as I lugged the stupid thing out to the veranda for the longest walk of my life. I was panting by the time I'd managed to get it to the street outside, and I turned to wave to Merry so I could catch my breath. A hundred yards down the road, I did the same – and again, until, on my third stop, I couldn't see her any more. Grimly, I hauled my luggage to the bottom of the hill and sat on it for a rest. From here, though, I could see the Islander – and it looked like she was loading up to leave. With the ship in sight, I gritted my teeth and lifted the case, staggering to the wharf.
Ocean's Trial Page 9