India Dark

by Kirsty Murray

  13

  SISTERS

  Poesy Swift

  That night, Tempe Melbourne came storming into the new cabin that Eliza and I had to ourselves. I was a little intimidated by Tempe. She was so tall and aloof. I knew she had been friends with Eliza once but her expression was anything but friendly now.

  ‘Have you heard?’ she said, almost shouting as she stood in front of my bunk. ‘He’s messed it up already and we haven’t even left Australian waters.’

  ‘You mean about having to go to Java?’ Eliza said, and I was relieved she seemed so calm.

  ‘Not only Java. We’ll have to do Singapore and Georgetown and then India. India! You know one of the Lilliputians died in India when they toured there in ’97. My mother never agreed to me going to India! Your mother will be angry too, Poesy,’ she added, almost as an aside.

  ‘Stop it, Tempe,’ said Eliza. ‘You are not to spread lies. It’s not true.’

  ‘What’s not true?’ said Tempe.

  ‘That one of the troupe died.’

  ‘How would you know? You weren’t on that trip. Everyone knows he caught leprosy and they left him in India to rot.’

  ‘You’re being ridiculous. And melodramatic. Nobody died, I tell you. Not a child. It’s a lie. And it’s a lie that your mother didn’t agree. Every mother gave the Percivals permission to make decisions on our behalf. All our parents trust him.’

  Tempe went red in the face. ‘You think your parents would trust him if they knew about you?’

  Eliza stepped forward and slapped Tempe. Hard. ‘Get out!’ she said, pushing Tempe out of our cabin, slamming the door behind her.

  We looked at each other for a long, terrible moment and then Eliza burst into tears. She sat beside me on my bunk and put one arm around me as she sobbed. ‘It’s not true. Nothing she says is true. It wasn’t a child that died. It wasn’t. It was poor Mr Arthur’s brother. Why does everyone have to twist things and make lies?’

  But it wasn’t the dead boy that I was thinking about.

  ‘What did Tempe mean about not trusting Mr Arthur?’ I asked.

  ‘Nothing. She’s a stupid, spiteful girl. I can’t believe I used to trust her.’

  ‘But wasn’t she your friend, Eliza?’

  ‘Don’t call me Eliza, darling Poesy. Call me Lizzie. Call me Lizzie and let’s always be true friends. Friends that believe in each other and trust each other.’

  My head exploded with questions but Eliza was trembling so much I was afraid to ask any of them.

  ‘Please don’t turn against me, Poesy.’

  I squeezed her hand. ‘Don’t worry. I would never turn against you, Lizzie.’ And I meant it.

  That night, when Lizzie and I climbed into our bunks, she told me stories about growing up with the Lilliputians. She told me of all the places she’d visited and the best shows and the most beautiful gowns. And then, when we turned the lights down, she sang to me. Even though she was almost too old to be a Lilliputian, they kept her in the troupe because of her beautiful voice. With just the two of us in our little cabin and the sea washing against the steamer, it felt as if Lizzie’s voice spun a silky cocoon of songs that would bind us together forever. When she wrapped her arms around me, I felt I would love her with all my heart until my dying day. She was the big sister I never had, the friend I’d always longed for. There was nothing I wouldn’t do for her. She was everything to me, everything I wanted to become. I would trust her with my life.

  I fell asleep and dreamed we were together on stage, holding hands as applause rained down around us.

  14

  SPINNING ACROSS

  THE ARAFURA SEA

  Tilly Sweetrick

  We didn’t do it out of spite. It was sheer boredom that started me off. There was nothing more to it. I came up on deck to find my poor little Valentine hanging over the rail, staring down at the sea as if she’d been hypnotised. That’s how dull we both felt. So dull that a wave could capture our attention.

  All Valentine’s brown curls had grown frizzy and her face was sticky with sweat. I pulled her away and made her spread her arms wide. ‘Turn your face up to the sky and copy me,’ I said as I began to spin.

  Our skirts swirled as we spun around and around. A line of deckhands stopped work and turned to watch. They folded their arms across their chests and their faces had tight, hungry smiles. It made me feel even giddier, to know that spinning could change the way they saw us. I loved it that we could act like little girls and yet be something more.

  Poesy stood with the boys and gawped at us. Ever since she’d changed cabins, she’d drifted away whenever I tried to talk to her. She was always on the edge of things now, always with Eliza or Charlie, never with me any more. I grabbed her arm. ‘Come and spin with us, Poesy, we’re getting giddy,’ I said. ‘It’s like floating!’

  ‘Giddy, giddy, giddy!’ said Valentine, laughing as she spun towards us and fell dizzily into my arms. I stroked her hair away from her face and set her on her feet again. One sailor, a young one with dark eyes, was watching us, his mouth slightly open, as if any moment he might have to step forward and take a bite of one of us. It made me giggle.

  ‘See, Poesy, it’s fun.’ I twirled on my tiptoes so my skirt filled with air and floated above my knees.

  ‘Mr Arthur will be cross,’ was all she said.

  ‘Oh pish-posh. No one’s going to dob us in. Come on.’

  But she looked to Charlie and then he looked to Lionel and I knew she wouldn’t play. She shook her head and stepped away from me. And so Valentine and I stuck out our tongues and then threw ourselves into a spin again, spinning and spinning until it felt as if the ship was spinning too and we fell down on the deck, clutching our stomachs as we gasped and laughed and kicked our legs in the air.

  ‘Get up, Tilly, quickly.’

  It was Poesy, suddenly beside us as if she knew Mr Arthur was coming. A second later he was towering over me. I didn’t care. I clutched Valentine’s arm so that she would stay down.

  Mr Arthur dragged us to our feet. His fingers felt hot and sweaty as they encircled my wrist. His mouth was set in a tight grimace and he pulled us towards him.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he said, his eyes swivelling from the row of hungry sailors and back to me.

  ‘Playing. We were only playing.’

  ‘You will act like young ladies,’ he hissed. ‘Not little tramps.’

  He held me too tightly. My wrist ached. ‘Get your hands off me,’ I said, trying to shake myself free.

  ‘Don’t take that tone with me, young woman,’ he snapped. Then he spoke softly, his voice full of menace. ‘Don’t think you’re too big for a spanking.’

  I wanted to slap him, but I was glad he was angry. I wanted him to be furious. As furious as I was at being cheated, at being taken to the East instead of going to America. I hung my head, as if I felt contrite, though inside I was bubbling with rage.

  He turned away and gestured for Lionel to come to him. As if nothing had happened between us, he started talking to Lionel, instructing him to tell everyone to go below deck for rehearsals.

  In the dining hall, Eddie banged away on the piano and Mr Arthur talked at the boys, working them through one of their scenes from Florodora. Miss Thrupp twittered away at us girls and finally managed to get the little ones to pay attention, but Valentine and I sat on a bench and fanned ourselves with our hands. Although it wasn’t ten in the morning, the air was stifling in the dining hall. Eloise turned on the fans but that only made the two babies squall and Mr Arthur shouted at her to make them cease their infernal racket.

  An hour into the rehearsal we were all pulling at our collars and slippery with sweat. Mr Arthur threw his hands up in despair and shooed us out of the dining hall. By eleven we were on deck again, most of us hanging over the rails to gaze at the blue sea and feel the breeze against our damp clothes.

  Ruby, Tempe and Clarissa stood with their arms locked and leaned against a wall while a cresce
nt of sailors gathered around them. They didn’t have to spin for anyone to notice them.

  ‘Those girls,’ said Poesy, shaking her head. ‘They know they shouldn’t fraternise with the sailors.’

  I laughed. ‘Fraternise? They’re flirting. Miss Thrupp will have puppies if she sees them.’

  Just at that moment, Miss Thrupp stepped out on deck looking pale green and walked straight to the railing beside us. She handed her baby to Poesy to nurse and then vomited over the ship’s side. I suppose I should have felt sorry for her, but when the breeze blew back in our direction it was hard to muster a whit of sympathy.

  Ruby, Clarissa and Tempe all laughed at something the steward said and Miss Thrupp didn’t even raise her head.

  Finally, Mr Arthur came on deck. He looked straight at the big girls and their sailor-boy admirers and his face took on that bloated, red look that he’d turned on me when I was spinning. He strode past the boys playing quoits – didn’t even glance at me – and spoke so sharply to Miss Thrupp that she jumped. The greenish hue in her cheeks gave way to pink as she followed Mr Arthur’s gaze to where the wicked three were standing.

  ‘Ooooo, they are going to get such a serve,’ I whispered to Poesy. But she didn’t seem to hear me. Her little face grew pinched with worry.

  We watched Miss Thrupp wipe her mouth and nod at Mr Arthur, as if to reassure him, as if it was her decision to step in and not his instruction. While he stood watching, she crossed the deck to the girls and the sailors. ‘Girls!’

  The sailors flinched, suddenly embarrassed, and Tempe and Clarissa glanced at her nervously but Ruby laughed and rested one hand on the steward’s forearm.

  Miss Thrupp stepped closer, her face red with irritation. ‘Ruby!’

  This time her voice was so loud that everyone on the top deck heard her. The boys stopped flinging quoits and the passengers dozing in their deckchairs woke suddenly, craning their necks to see what the fuss was about.

  ‘Ruby,’ said Miss Thrupp. ‘I’d like a word with you. In private, please.’

  Ruby smiled insolently.

  ‘Not now, Miss,’ she said.

  ‘Yes, Ruby, now,’ said Miss Thrupp. She stepped into the circle of sailors and took hold of one of Ruby’s hands. Ruby tried to shake free but Miss Thrupp held fast and began dragging her away.

  Tempe and Clarissa stood back, as if trying to put some distance between themselves and Ruby. Everyone on the deck watched, waiting for the fireworks, but Ruby allowed herself to be pulled towards the stairwell. Tempe and Clarissa followed meekly behind.

  ‘C’mon,’ I said, ‘let’s follow.’

  We tried not to let our feet clatter on the metal stairs as we scurried after Miss Thrupp and her charge. Later, Poesy would say she didn’t like to take sides and that she’d only been there because she was carrying Timmy for Miss Thrupp. But she wanted to see what happened as much as me.

  We were about to turn the corner into the long corridor when we heard their raised voices.

  ‘You will listen to me, Ruby Kelly. You will listen and you will obey.’

  Ruby laughed, her best catty laugh. Even though I didn’t really like Miss Thrupp much, there was something in Ruby’s laughter that made my stomach turn in a tight, anxious knot. It was a troublesome laugh, like a warning that you simply had to heed, a sound you hear before disaster strikes.

  ‘You’re a charlatan. You can’t try and tell me how to behave! Why everyone knows that baby is your son, not your nephew. How dare you preach to me! I’m not the one with a brat and no husband. I’ll talk to the stewards whenever I feel like it and I won’t make the same mistakes as you.’

  Tempe and Clarissa had crept up behind us and they gasped, ‘She’s really done for now.’

  We all jumped off the last steps and stood in the narrow corridor watching as Miss Thrupp chased Ruby down the passageway.

  ‘Ruby, Ruby, you will go to your cabin. You will not go on deck again this afternoon. Ruby!’

  But Ruby paid her no attention, marching down the passage until Miss Thrupp grabbed a handful of hair and yanked it hard. Ruby’s shriek caused cabin doors to fly open. Next thing we knew, Miss Thrupp and Ruby were slapping each other furiously. Miss Thrupp looked desperate. She tried to wrap her arms around Ruby but was pushed to the ground as Ruby stood over her and shrieked, ‘You can’t stop me!’

  Miss Thrupp grabbed Ruby’s ankle. In a fury of unbalanced rage, Ruby tried to wrench her ankle free and kicked Miss Thrupp in the stomach, hard. That’s the truth. As I remember it, the plain truth. Ruby kicked Miss Thrupp but only while trying to escape.

  At exactly that moment, Mr Arthur came clattering down the stairwell and pushed past us. He grabbed Ruby by the wrist, spun her around and boxed her ears so soundly that Ruby howled and clutched her head on either side. She stumbled against the wall but Mr Arthur caught her. Keeping one hand on Ruby, he reached down with the other and helped Miss Thrupp to her feet. Then he piloted them both down the passage.

  ‘Tempe, Clarissa, take Ruby to your cabin and stay there until you are sent for. Poesy, as you’ve got Timmy you can help Miss Thrupp back to her cabin. Tilly, go and fetch Dr Whitehead and tell him Miss Thrupp needs his ministrations.’

  I was annoyed that I was given the least preferable task. ‘But what about Ruby? The doctor should see her too.’

  Mr Arthur looked at me, his eyes narrow. ‘The girl was hysterical but she’s unharmed. Remember, she attacked Miss Thrupp. She got what she deserved.’

  I stared at him as if he were a stranger. I was starting to see Mr Arthur Percival in quite a different light. As he ran his hand through his hair and smoothed it back into place, I saw a glimpse of something dark and cruel in the set of his mouth.

  ‘What are you waiting for, child? Do as you’re told, or there will be consequences.’

  But there are always consequences for every little thing we do. One day Mr Arthur would suffer some serious consequences himself. One day, Mr Arthur would find out all about consequences.

  15

  THE PUPPET SPIRIT

  Poesy Swift

  It was late in the day when we sailed into Surabaya. There was no breeze and the air felt sticky, as if I could hold it in my hands and wring the water from it.

  Tilly, Valentine and I watched as the gangplank was set in place. The port was tiny compared to the docks of Melbourne and there was noise and dust and people of all different colours bustling about everywhere we looked. Underneath the smell of coal and oil was the odour of fish. Down on the dock, a dark-skinned man stood beside a cart laden with golden mangoes. Further away, a group of small boys played in the shade of a coconut palm. There were men in strange costumes with little hats and odd skirts tied about their waists. Voices crying out in strange languages wafted up to us.

  ‘I don’t want to get off,’ said Tilly. ‘I don’t think I’m going to like this place.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ said Valentine. ‘It can’t be so different to Manila. Americans are lovely wherever they are.’

  ‘But there aren’t any Americans in Java,’ said Tilly. ‘Really, Valentine, sometimes I think your head is full of fluff! The Dutch are in charge and they hardly speak English, at least that’s what Freddie told me. It’s going to be awful.’

  I stuck my fingers in my ears to block out Tilly’s voice and tried to think of something cheering that I’d read about the Dutch, but all I could think of was clogs and windmills.

  The hotel smelt of dust, boiled ham and something sharp and spicy that made my nose itch. There weren’t enough beds for all of us and Eloise said we would have to sleep two to a bed. Lizzie asked for me, because, she said, it was only fair to pair the big girls with smaller ones. But I knew it was more than that. It was so easy between us now. We slept together like a pair of spoons in a drawer, side by side. Though perhaps I was the little teaspoon and she the dessertspoon.

  That evening, the advance booking agent, Mr Shrouts, met us outside the hotel. He led the way as Mr Arth
ur, Jim and Eddie herded us down the main road. In the dusky twilight, natives stopped what they were doing, fell silent and stared at us. Others came out onto their verandahs and watched our procession as if the circus had come to town, not a proper theatre company.

  When we came to a wide, open field, I felt my heart sink. I hadn’t thought about having to perform in tents. All of a sudden, I had a picture in my head of the freaks’ pavilion at the Royal Melbourne Showgrounds. I looked down at my dress and smoothed my hand across my tummy to stop it flip-flopping about.

  Maybe my body knew what my mind couldn’t. Maybe my insides understood that the evening would bring disaster. Lizzie said that Mr Arthur wasn’t to know, that he’d acted in good faith.

  We stood in our costumes at the rear entrance to the tent and slapped away at the mosquitoes. From out in the dark fields, we could hear the bark of geckoes. Little Flora began to cry and pull at her costume.

  ‘I don’t want to be in a tent. I don’t like tents.’

  ‘You have to think of it as a rehearsal,’ said Freddie Kreutz. ‘We’re only doing a revue, after all. We can’t do a proper show until all the props and costumes are unloaded. Besides, it’s not as if there’s anyone important in the audience.’

  ‘That’s not very professional,’ said Lizzie. ‘Every audience is important.’

  ‘Oh, what a trooper you are,’ said Freddie in a fake-jolly tone that made me squirm. ‘You know Lionel is opening the show tonight? Mr Arthur said he could do his ventriloquist act, for fun. What a toady, eh?’

  Lizzie pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Flora’s tears away. ‘You don’t have to be snide about everything, Freddie. Just because you don’t have anything special to do doesn’t mean other people should hide their light under a bushel.’

  ‘Oooo, so you going to give us a nice little flash of what’s under your bushel, then?’

  Lizzie spun about and slapped his face. Freddie’s hand flew to his cheek, to cover the pink mark on his flesh, though I’m sure she hadn’t hit him very hard.