Blackbird

by David Crookes

  Cripps smiled and nodded. `I know how it is Charles.'ﾁ

  `But of course we'll be seeing you and Kathleen at the wedding next Saturday won't we?'

  Cripps stared into his tea-cup and said nothing.

  Charles faked a frown `You are coming aren't you John? If you don't, I'll barely know anyone there besides Catherine, Mrs Stonehouse, and Silas Moser.'ﾁ

  Cripps smiled again and shook his head. `I'm afraid you must have forgotten to send us an invitation Charles.'

  `Oh, I'm so sorry John. I'll speak with Catherine, she looked after the guest list. She must have made a slip up. I'm sure she wants you and Mrs Cripps to join the celebrations just as much as I do.' Charles eyed Cripps who looked unconvinced. `John you will be there, won't you.

  `There's nothing we would like more Charles. We'll be there if you want us to be. You know how Kathleen and I feel about you. We almost look upon you as a son.' Cripps took a sip of tea, then laid the cup down carefully in it's saucer. `Which is why I felt compelled to come over here and see you today.'

  Charles looked puzzled. `What is it John?'

  Cripps drew a deep breath. `Silas Moser came to see me yesterday. He asked me if I would be prepared to rejoin the firm for a period of time, until he can find a suitable permanent replacement for you, if it becomes necessary for him to do so.'

  `But, I have no plans to leave the firm John. Moser knows that.'

  `Oh, he knows that alright Charles. But he told me it may be necessary for him to force you out,'

  Charles shook his head in disbelief. `What are you talking about John.'

  John Cripps took another deep breath. `Moser told me he believes Miss Catherine will stop at nothing to take control of Stonehouse's from him. He's convinced she'll not rest until she's able to play a major part in the running of the company herself.'

  `She's a woman, for heaven's sake John. How does Moser think she can run a shipping company.'ﾁ

  `Through you Charles.'

  `Through me,' Charles echoed. `Next, I suppose now you are going to tell me that Moser thinks Catherine is just marrying me for her own ends?'

  `Yes... as a matter of fact he does. He says that's the only reason she's marrying you.'

  Charles' square jaw tightened, his face became flushed. `And is that what you think John?' he asked angrily.

  `What I think means nothing Charles.'

  `Is that what you think, John?' Charles repeated his question, more forcefully this time.

  `I've known Miss Catherine all her life,' Cripps said softly. `I've never seen her not get her own way, one way or the other. In all truthfulness I must say that it's possible Silas Moser couldbe right.'

  Charles stood up. `I will listen to no more of this while Catherine is not here to defend herself,' he said stiffly. `Perhaps you had better leave John.'

  Cripps sighed and rose slowly. `I'm sorry it has come to this Charles. You must know it would have been much easier for me not to have come here today. I only came out of concern for you. You realize I have nothing to gain from all this.'

  Charles watched the old man walk as far as the garden gate, then called out after him, `You didn't tell me if you accepted Moser's offer John.'

  Cripps turned around just long enough to say: `I told him you were my friend. And I told him I would not take your place even for a second if you were being pushed out of it...which is more than I can say of you, when you took the position from me.'

  *

  The more Charles thought about what Cripps had said, the more angry he became. After he had taken a bath and changed into his best Sunday suit of clothes, he walked down the hill and hailed a carriage to take him to the river ferry at West End. From there it was a short ride directly across the river to Toowong, but a long up-hill walk to Silas Moser's house.

  A man-servant answered Charles' knock on the front door and led him through to an immaculately furnished drawing room, where he asked Charles to wait while he announced his arrival to Mr Moser. Charles stood for several minutes looking out a bay window onto a manicured lawn bordered by tropical plants and shrubs.

  `Hello Charles...how nice of you to call by.'

  Charles turned around to find Moser at the drawing room door wearing what looked to be a shop-keeper's smock and thick canvas gloves.

  `Please excuse my appearance Charles,' Moser apologized, `but I usually spend Sundays in my garden. I ﾁfind it a very stimulating divergence from the office.'

  `Mr Moser, sir, Charles began, `I spoke with John Cripps this morning and I...'

  `Yes yes,' Moser interrupted, `I half expected John to go directly to you after I spoke with him. After all, he holds you in very high regard.' Moser's tone was soothing—almost patronizing.He gestured to an elegant high-backed easy-chair. `Now please sit down Charles, and before you say something you may well regret, perhaps you would allow me to say a few words.'

  Charles grudgingly sat down, feeling the wind being taken from his sails. He had planned to do the talking, to confront Moser, man to man, to get his pent-up anger off his chest forcefully and eloquently. Now, unwillingly, he found himself just sitting and listening.

  `Alexander Stonehouse and I built a dream here in this wilderness young man.' Moser took off his smock and gardening gloves and sat down in a chair facing Charles. `It took many, many years, sometimes at great personal sacrifice, but we carefully molded and shaped that dream, until together we cast a die so strong that it could not be broken—except possibly from within.'

  `If you're referring to Catherine Mr Moser,' Charles interjected defensively, `she does have every right to her share of the Stonehouse Shipping Company. She is her father's daughter you know,'

  `I am not disputing her right to shares bequeathed to her by Alexander. But what I will not tolerate, is what I believe to be her efforts to undermine and usurp my position as managing director of the company, efforts incidentally, which are diametrically opposed to her father's wishes.' Moser paused for a moment. When he continued his voice took on a patronizing tone again. `He loved her just as you do Charles; heaven knows no father ever loved a daughter more. But he knew she was headstrong and overly-ambitious, often to the point of selfishness. And because of that, Alexander was careful not to let his love for her cloud his good judgment in matters relating to business.' Moser eyed Charles sagely. `If I may say so Charles, you would do well to do the same.'

  `I believe you are entirely wrong about any conspiracy against you Mr Moser,' Charles said adamantly. `And even if one did exist, I resent your implication that I would be a party to it.'

  Moser pursed his lips. `I never thought you knowingly would Charles, and your presence here today proves that beyond any possibility of doubt. And may I say from the heart, that in spite of all this, I hope we may go on working together as a team, which I know is the way Alexander Stonehouse wanted it to be.'

  `Mr Stonehouse wanted that?'

  `Oh, my word yes. He said so himself. In that very chair you are sitting in Charles, just minutes before he died.Like myself, he too had great admiration for your competence in business and nothing but respect for you personally.'

  Charles sat for some time without saying anything. A few minutes later when he rose to leave he said:

  `I'm glad we've had this little chat Mr Moser. I think I understand things a little better now. And I look forward to us working well together in the future as we have done in the past. Also, may I assure you of my absolute loyalty to you and to the firm, now, and in the future.' *

  Silas Moser insisted his driver take Charles to Castlecraig in his carriage when Charles told him he was expected at the Stonehouse home for afternoon tea.

  When he arrived, Charles saw at least a dozen other carriages lining the driveway leading up to the big house. Beyond the carriages, on the huge lawn in front of the house, a large group of people had gathered for a garden-party.

  Charles called out to Moser's driver to stop, then jumped out of the carriage and walked up the driveway. As he appr
oached the garden-party, he saw the crowd was made up of predominantly young people around his own age.

  Everyone was dressed immaculately. The ladies wore colorful long dresses and stylish wide-brimmed showy hats, each carefully tilted to just the right angle of individual preference. In contrast, their escorts, without exception wore dark conservative suits, shirts with stiffly starched collars and cuffs, and highly polished black footwear. It was clearly a gathering of some of the colony's most exclusive elite. Charles was thankful he had chosen to wear his finest London-tailored suit.

  Catherine broke away from the small group of guests she was talking with when Charles drew close. He had never seen her look so lovely. She wore a figure flattering, light-green satin dress with an emerald-green sash. Her hat was also light-green, much wider and fancier than any of the other ladies, and her red hair fell down from underneath it, thick and glossy over her shoulders.

  `Charles, I was beginning to think you weren't coming,' she scolded. `After all, the whole purpose of this party is for you to meet some of my special friends you haven't met as yet, so you won't feel a total stranger at the wedding.' Suddenly her petulance vanished and she smiled triumphantly. `Come Charles, let me show you off.' She slipped her arm in his and gave him a tug in the direction of the crowd.

  As always, her touch and the smell of her fragrance excited him, just as it had the first day they met. All at once he desperately wanted to be alone with her, to put his arms around her, to hold her close and feel her body pressed hard against his own.

  Instead, they made the rounds of the guests, stopping to chat with each of the small groups scattered here and there around the garden. Catherine was effervescent and bubbled with enthusiasm as she introduced Charles to all and sundry.

  Later, household staff wheeled out tea-trolleys and silver trays laden with delicate little sandwiches and fancy cakes, and moved among the guests serving the refreshments.

  Catherine was the centre of attention all through the afternoon and Charles could see she relished every moment. It was only when the shadows lengthened, and the warmth was gone from the late afternoon sun, that the crowd finally dispersed and Charles found he was at last alone with Catherine.

  They went inside the house to find Clare Stonehouse had taken refuge from the gardenparty behind the closed doors of the drawing room, leaving word with Jenkins the butler, that she was not to be disturbed until an hour before the evening meal was to be served.

  Catherine took Charles by the hand and led him up the stairs to the apartment her father had constructed in the tower. When they reached the landing she made him close his eyes while she opened the apartment door. `All right Charles, you can open your eyes now,' she said as the door swung open.

  Charles opened his eyes to a display of unabashed opulence.

  `Do you like it my darling?' Catherine's face glowed. `I persuaded mother some time ago to let us have the apartment as a special place just for the two of us.'

  `It's beautiful,' Charles said as they moved inside. `Just beautiful.'

  The apartment had been freshly redecorated and was filled with brand new quality furnishings. Catherine took Charles' hand again and led him through to the bedroom. It was a sight to behold. A huge solid brass four-poster with silk and lace hangings took pride of place in the centre of the room. The enormous bed was complimented by a superbly carved walnut bedroom suite, made up of two large wardrobes, each with a full length beveled plated mirror, a matching duchess dressing table, a huge double wash-stand, and a very elegant looking commode. The entire floor was covered by a magnificent Brussels carpet.

  Catherine reached for one of the bed-posts and swung widely around it, ending in a low curtsy. ` Sir...do you find the accommodations fitting for the future head of the Stonehouse Shipping Company?'

  Charles took her in his arms. She looked up at him mischievously, eyebrows raised, the question still lingering on her face. He was about to ask her if that was what she really wanted, and tell her of his meeting earlier with Silas Moser, but the very closeness of her had aroused a need inside him that demanded more urgent attention. He kissed her mouth, tenderly at first, then more forcefully as the passion rose inside him, while his eager hands moved over her dress feeling the firm full contours of her body.

  It was some time before she offered any resistance, then she freed her mouth from his and pushed him gently away. `You must be patient Charles,' she said breathlessly. `In one more week we'll be married.Then we both can have everything we want—just for the taking.' *

  The marriage of Catherine Anne Stonehouse to Charles Worthington-Jones took place in Brisbane's St Stephen's Roman Catholic Cathedral, and was attended by over four hundred members of the colony's upper-crust.

  The wedding ceremony and the lavish reception held afterwards at Castlecraig, were later described by reporters in the local press, as one of the major events of the year's social calendar.

  As Catherine walked down the aisle on Charles' arm at the end of the long mass, her eyes scanned appreciatively over the large number of guests, which for the most part she had handpicked herself, according to rank and position.

  Just before they stepped out of the cathedral, she was surprised to see John Cripps and his wife Kathleen were in attendance, standing by themselves, at the end of the very last pew.

  PART TWO

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Through the years 1886 and 1887, the Colony of Queensland continued to boom. There was no let up in the phenomenal rate of immigration from Europe, mainly from the British Isles.

  Most of the new arrivals took up residence in the capital. Those willing to work hard found their skills were eagerly sought after and exceptionally well rewarded. Those who were not' soon found themselves homeless and hungry.

  Land prices soared in a seemingly unstoppable spiral of speculation, fuelled by the ready availability of cash and credit from over a dozen banks operating in the colony. Demand for almost everything outstripped supply as the enormity of the boom, which was to see Brisbane's population treble in a single decade, consumed all before it like an insatiable bushfire.

  Nothing could stem the flow of migrants pouring into the Moreton Bay area. Even the inability of Europeans to adjust easily to the sub-tropical conditions didn't deter them. Neither did the awful toll taken by rampant tropical diseases, resulting from the failure of local authorities to provide adequate sanitation, and which gave Brisbane the highest mortality rate in the entire British Empire.

  Lasting prosperity seemed to be available to all, even to the northern sugar planters, with Premier Sam Griffith's Liberal government allowing the Kanaka labor trade to continue until at least 1890.

  *

  The financial year of the Stonehouse Shipping Company ended on the thirtieth day of June. It was now the third week in August 1887, and Silas Moser sat in his office awaiting the arrival of the company's latest financial statements.

  The previous year, his first at the helm of the company, had showed a record profit, but one he hoped would be dwarfed by the returns of his second full year. Moser's bony fingers pounded impatiently on the top of his desk. He knew if he were to fully implement the expansion plans Stonehouse's had embarked upon earlier in the year, the new financial figures would have to be exceptional.

  Moser got up from his desk and stood at the window overlooking the river. Part of the view of the South Brisbane Reach was now obscured by a huge new warehouse. Construction had started several months before and was now all but complete.

  The enormous new warehouse was a vital, integral part of his plans for the future. It was the very first building of its kind in the colony, a meat terminal with a large area of it's storage space entirely refrigerated.

  Moser was sourly eyeing two wharf laborers standing idly gossiping beside the new building, and making a mental note to have them disciplined when there was a sharp tap on his office door.

  `Come in.' Charles entered the room holding a large sheaf of papers in his arms
. `I have here the audited statements Mr Moser.' He grinned widely,` I have gone over them very carefully and the results are even better than we had hoped.'

  Moser smiled tightly. `Excellent Charles. And I do realize that our solid results over the past two years are attributable in no small part to your skilful management of the purse-strings of this firm.'

  `Why thank you Mr Moser,' Charles laid the papers on Moser's desk. When he turned to leave Moser called him back and waved him to a chair.

  This calls for a celebration I think Charles.' Moser drew a bottle of sherry from a cabinet beside his desk and poured two generous measures. He handed one to Charles and sat back down in his chair. His expression suddenly became very serious. `Tell me Charles, honestly, do you think the enormous expenditure required to expand into refrigerated shipping is really justifiable?'

  Charles took a sip of Sherry and laid his glass down gently on the desk. He shrugged. `Oh, I wouldn't presume to pass judgment on your carefully laid plans Mr Moser.'

  `I don't want you to pass judgment, I am asking for your honest opinion on the long term viability of the whole proposal before we approach the bank for final funding arrangements for the purchase of the new ships with refrigerated holds. I would appreciate your views— even if they conflict with mine.'

  Charles drew a deep breath. `You know I have supported the idea of transporting refrigerated meat to Great Britain right from the very start Mr Moser. It seems perfectly natural to me for meat to be exported from Queensland to England. After all, half the cattle in Australia are produced in this colony, as is a very high percentage of all the sheep. And the timing is certainly right. Shipboard refrigeration is so new that competition is very limited. The high cost of refrigerated vessels only serves to reduce that competition even further.'

  Charles leaned over the desk and tapped hard on the sheaf of papers. `With these excellent financial statements, sir,' Charles' voice rose with enthusiasm, `I'm sure the bank will advance whatever money is required for the purchase of the necessary steamships. I say do it immediately Mr Moser. Do it now. Let's get in while we can. Let's transport as much frozen beef and mutton to England as we possible can. And while we're at it, perhaps we can take a share of the British migrant trade on the return voyage.'