Blackbird

by David Crookes

  'What are your feelings on the matter, Silas ?' she asked quietly. "How would all this affect you and Charles?'

  'I will accept, of course, whatever decision you make, Clare,' Moser said with a tight smile. 'If you wish to sell, then I will part with enough of my shares to give the purchaser the control they require. But usually new brooms sweep clean. I would, of course, add the proviso that any sale of my shares would be conditional on Charles and myself retaining our positions within the firm.'

  'I can see it doesn't matter what I think,' Catherine said petulantly. 'You can sell off the company and look after yourselves without even consulting me.'

  'But you have expressed your opinion, Catherine,' Moser said patronizingly. 'And that is why you were asked to attend this meeting. We have merely pointed out that you are, like myself, a minority shareholder .' Moser turned his attention back to Clare. ' Mr Fairweather asked me to advise him before he leaves for Australia, if you will at least consider the offer, Clare. What would you have me convey to him?'

  Clare looked Catherine directly in the eye as she answered Silas Moser's question. 'At the moment, I must say, I am leaning toward selling, Silas. Please tell Mr Fairweather we will listen to what he has to say, also tell him he is most welcome to stay with us at Castlecraig during his visit to Queensland. But in the meantime, should Catherine produce visible evidence, by falling pregnant, that she is to produce an heir, then any sale of the Stonehouse Shipping Company would of course be out of the question.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  `You must understand, Mr Luk, that it is almost impossible for this or any other bank to grant loans to anyone in these troubled times...' James Whitworth clenched his chubby perspiring hands tightly together as he spoke, `no matter how credit worthy a customer may be.'

  `But the outstanding accounts of the brick-yards debtors far exceed the capital I require to rebuild the yard,' Ben countered quickly. `It is just ready cash I am short of, Mr Whitworth.'

  `That is exactly the problem this bank and every bank in the colony is experiencing at the present time, Mr Luk. There is just so little money in circulation. There are few repayments being made by bank customers on existing loans accommodations, and deposits are virtually at a standstill, because merchants such as yourself are unable to collect their outstanding accounts. It really is a most difficult time for everyone. Are you absolutely sure you have no insurance coverage?'

  Ben shook his head. `The insurance company says the flood was an Act of God and as such will not consider any claim.'

  `How unfortunate, Mr Luk... how very unfortunate,' James Whitworth sighed in commiseration, but stopped short of offering Ben financial assistance. Ben leaned back in his chair and stared into the grain of Whitworth's polished mahogany desk for a few moments without saying anything. When he looked up he said:

  `Mr Whitworth, I think I have spoken to you of an old man named, Ah Sing. He was my guardian on the Palmer River gold-fields when I was a boy, and later became my benefactor at the time of his death. He taught me all I know and he encouraged me to become a merchant. He warned me of the pitfalls of commerce, one of which was the borrowing of money. He taught me that in order to overcome all the obstacles which lay ahead, I would need to depend on no one but myself and be beholden to no man. Unfortunately, my benefactor never taught me how to overcome the devastation caused by a flood.' Ben rose to feet. `Mr Whitworth, I need help. I need money to rebuild my brickyard. As my banker, and I hope my friend, I have come here to ask you to assist me. I can do no more. I do not know how to beg.'

  James Whitworth drew a deep breath and pounded his fat fingers on the top of his desk for some time while he pondered Ben's predicament. Then he threw his arms in the air.

  `Very well, Mr Luk. I will set up your account with an overdraft accommodation to allow you to rebuild your yard. But in all likelihood I will be severely reprimanded by my superiors for doing so. And because of that very real possibility, I must insist that you assign over to the bank all book debts and trade accounts owing to the brickyard, and also lodge the title-deed of Jarrah here at the bank as security against all advances.'

  *

  Years had passed since Clare Stonehouse had taken dinner formally downstairs. Charles always dressed for dinner and entered the dining-room at precisely eight o'clock each evening. A few minutes later, Catherine would join him for the evening meal, providingshe had no pressing social commitments away from the house. They would dine in near silence, making little if any conversation, seated at opposite ends of Castlecraig's huge dining-room table.

  Usually, just as soon as the meal was over, Catherine would move to the comfort of the drawing-room, leaving Charles by himself to sip his evening port in the dining- room. But this particular evening, a few days after Silas Moser had called the shareholder's meeting to discuss Percival Fairweather's interest in Stonehouse's, Catherine was still seated at the table when Jenkins brought Charles his usual decanter of port.

  She wore a form fitting, low cut emerald dress, clearly designed to accentuate the contours of her body, and the fullness of her breasts to the best advantage. When Jenkins laid the silver tray with the decanter beside Charles she still showed no sign of leaving.

  Jenkins, as always, poured Charles' first glass of port, then prepared to withdraw from the room. He turned to Catherine and lowered his head slightly. `Will there be anything for you, Madam?'

  `No, that will be all, Jenkins. But please close the doors behind you as you go out.'

  As soon as the tall doors closed, Catherine said quickly, `Charles, I must speak with you.'

  Charles knew the moment he had been expecting had arrived.

  `May I be perfectly frank, Charles?'

  `Please do.'

  `I have given a great deal of thought to what Mother said last week. I must say, I had no idea how much she had been looking forward to having grandchildren. I realize now how utterly selfish I have been in regard to starting a family.'

  Charles eyed Catherine suspiciously from over the rim of his glass.

  `And I also realize I have been more than a little unfair to you,' she said softly, `by not always being a willing partner, in the way a husband has every right to expect a wife to be.I....'

  Charles could see Catherine was struggling with words he knew she would never have dreamed of saying if her mother hadn't threatened her with disinheritance. He downed his port in one swallow, then reached for the decanter and poured himself another generous measure.

  `I thought perhaps...' Catherine continued, `that if we both tried, we may be able to put the past behind us and make a fresh start. Perhaps a good place to begin would be to share a bed once again. We could start a family. It seems that's what Mother has always wanted, and I know it's what you wanted too, until somehow we allowed ourselves to drift apart.'

  Charles knew now why she had worn the stunning emerald dress. Exciting him had always worked for her in the past when she had the need to use him. But that was before Vivian, and before the years of forced abstinence had sapped from him the very last drop of desire he once held for her. He took another deep swallow, and looked at her down the length of the long table.

  She smiled back at him, and her eyelids fluttered modestly. She was playing the game to the hilt. Once again she was running true to form with her lies and deceit. But she no longer had the power to use him at will. He was sure of that. Charles wondered if his disdain showed on his face.

  He returned her smile, deciding not to deny himself the satisfaction of seeing her plead, perhaps beg for what she required of him. He would let her go through her play-acting without showing a hint of its utter futility. He took more port, and waited for Catherine to humiliate herself.

  `Wouldn't you like a child, Charles?' she asked softly.

  `I don't know if I still feel the same way as I used to about children,' Charles replied truthfully. `I always thought they should be conceived in love and born into happiness. I'm afraid there has been little of either
in our lives over the past few years.'

  `But all that can change, Charles, if we only give ourselves another chance.' Catherine got up quickly from her chair and hurried down to Charles. She stood beside him, so close his head swam in her perfume. `Will you give me the chance to be a wife to you again, Charles. I promise I will hold nothing back.'

  Charles remembered the time when her words would have been enough for him to really believe she wanted him, enough for him to promise her anything—to forgive her every sin. Now she was standing so close to him he could feel her thigh pressing against his body. It was firm and warm. Something stirred inside him. He was startled to find her nearness had once again triggered the same old betrayal which had let him down so many times before. He was determined not to let it show. He reached for the port, knowing he had already drunk more than double the amount he usually did before retiring to the tower.

  Charles filled the glass and raised it to his lips. He pretended to ignore her.

  She knew he couldn't for long. She waited until he lowered the glass, then she slid her fingers around his neck. Then, very slowly, she pulled his head toward her, and gently but firmly crushed his face to her breast.

  Charles knew then he could not resist her.Later, in the big brass bed in the tower, Catherine took charge of the love making. Charles just lay on his back, and let his senses reel as he allowed Catherine's lips and hands to move all over his body, but all the while determined, when the time came, not to release the seed she so desperately wanted.

  At first, when she slowly lowered herself onto him, Charles had no difficulty in holding back. It was when she began to steadily quicken her movements that he realized, too late, it was just a matter time before he lost control. He made a half-hearted attempt to withdraw from her. But she would not allow it, and she began to move even more quickly and more urgently.

  Seconds later, as always, Catherine had her way.

  *

  Silas Moser's carriage drew up in the heat of the midday sun outside the imposing head office of the Queensland National Bank on Queen Street. It was now two months after the devastating flood, and although the main thoroughfare of Brisbane was almost back to a state of normalcy, there was a large noisy crowd milling about inside and outside the bank.

  Moser stepped down from his carriage and edged his way into the building where he was recognized by a uniformed steward who led him directly to the board-room. The extraordinary meeting of the board of directors of Queensland's largest bank had been called only a matter of hours earlier in the day, and the messenger who had arrived at Stonehouse's from the bank had given no indication of what the agenda may be. But there was little doubt in Silas Moser's mind as to the reason for the meeting.

  Inside the board-room the air was thick with cigar-smoke and loud speculation from directors, as to why they had been summoned at such short notice. Moser noticed immediately that, unlike most scheduled meetings, the entire board was in attendance.

  Moser took a chair at the huge table in the centre of the room. Shamus McClintock, also a director of the bank, and like many of the others around the table, a sitting member of the Queensland Parliament, waved a hand from across the table.

  A door to an ante-room opened and a bearded man with a stiff military bearing stepped into the board-room. Colonel E R Drury had been managing director of the Queensland National Bank since its inception over twenty years earlier. He walked tight-lipped and ashen faced to his position at the head of the table. Suddenly the room fell silent.

  `Gentlemen,' he said tersely. `As you know, the financial affairs of the Colony have deteriorated to such an appalling state as to undermine public confidence in our bank. As a result, we now find ourselves experiencing the largest run on deposits in the history of the Queensland National. Gentlemen, I have to inform you it is a run we can no longer sustain. Accordingly, I have been forced to call this meeting in order to propose a resolution, calling upon the board to approve the closing of the bank and the freezing of all deposits forthwith.'

  For a moment there was a stunned silence as the board members let his words sink in. Then there was absolute pandemonium.

  Drury raised his arms and shouted above the uproar. `Please gentlemen, please hear me out without further interruption.'

  Gradually the noise abated and he continued:

  `Over the past few days I have attended meetings with representatives of all of the eleven banks operating in Queensland. At this moment the managing directors of eight of those financial institutions are proposing to their boards the very same resolution which I have just put to you.'

  There was a second spontaneous outburst, but shorter lived and more subdued than the first. Drury raised a silencing hand.

  `Gentlemen, in my opinion the only way to survive this crisis is for this bank and most of the others in the Colony to freeze all deposits on hand, stop circulating banknotes, and cease all trading until such time as we have worked out strategies for rationalizing and reconstructing our institutions. Not only is this drastic action necessary if we are to save this bank in the short term, but it is also in the long term interests of our shareholders and the general public at large.'

  The board of directors of the Queensland National Bank argued the narrow range of options open to them long into the night, as did the boards of the other seven institutions which were facing the same resolution. When the lights finally went out in the besieged banks around Brisbane in the early hours of the morning, some of them were destined to never go on again.

  Despite the late hour he went to bed, and despite the ominous gravity of the colony's financial crisis, Silas Moser looked refreshed, and almost jovial when he arrived at Stonehouse's just before nine the next morning. As soon as he entered the building he summoned Charles upstairs to his office.

  Charles listened in amazement as Moser told him of the impending bank closures. `When will all this happen?' he asked incredulously.

  Moser pulled a time-piece from his waist-coast pocket and stared into the crystal.

  `Charles, in a matter of minutes from now, I believe that only three of Queensland's eleven banks will open their doors for business. That means the vast majority of the colony's commercial enterprises and private citizens will be denied access to their own money which is held on deposit by collapsed banks. I don't think I have to tell you what the ramifications will be when factory owners, shopkeepers and even local town councils, are unable to pay their employee's wages.'

  `How long do you think it will be before the banks reopen, Silas?'

  `I would say three months at the very earliest. But because our bank holds most of the Queensland Government accounts and several leading politicians sit on the board of directors, I would expect it, with the Government's help, to be the very first to resume normal business.'

  `And in the meantime, Silas, how will all this effect us?'

  `As you are aware, Charles, I have prepared for the possibility of this contingency. We have sufficient cash in place in the company strong-box to cover all our outgoings in Brisbane for the immediate future. Now, as soon as we know which banks are to remain open, we will wire our London bank which holds the refrigerated meat division account, and have them transfer a substantial amount of funds to each one.'

  Charles looked surprised. `A substantial amount to each bank! Is that really necessary, Silas?'

  `Oh, my word yes, Charles. It is only once in a lifetime one sees a bank crash of such magnitude. There will be opportunities galore over the next few weeks and months, and there will be very few investors with ready cash to take advantage of them. We must move quickly to ensure the Stonehouse Shipping Company capitalizes upon this entire fiasco.'

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  For the second time in less than ten years, Ben began rebuilding the brickyard at Jarrah. Everything had to be built from scratch, except the kilns which, due to their brick and mortar construction, had survived absolute destruction.

  This time the task was made har
der without Jack Stark's able assistance and direction, but with thedemand for building materials now stagnant in the colony, there was no need to rebuild quickly. Ben had set about the task using only the few yard workers who were employed at Jarrah at the time of the flood.

  Ben looked up from the cross-cut saw he was working with Sky when he heard the rumble of wagon wheels on the road. He wiped the sweat from his face with the back of his hand and watched as a team pulling a dray laden high with timber and hardware pulled into the driveway. He called out to two of his men, and they walked up the hill with Ben and Sky to unload the wagon on level ground.

  The teamster handed Ben a bill of goods and he ran his eyes down the list of materials, checked the prices charged by the supplier and the condition of the goods.

  Ben looked up at the driver. `This account looks in order, I will draw a check for you immediately.' He signaled to his men to unload the dray, and turned to walk to the house.

  The teamster called out after him. `I'm sorry, Mr Luk, but I have been told not to accept a check. Payment must be made in cash.'

  Ben stopped in his tracks. `Why is this? I have dealt with your employer for many years, and I have always paid by check on delivery of my purchases.'

  The driver looked surprised. Haven't you heard, Mr Luk? Most of the banks in the colony have collapsed. Only three opened for business this morning. Who knows if there will be any at all trading tomorrow. The news has spread like wildfire. I thought you would have heard by now.'

  `I had not heard.' Ben spoke softly, almost to himself, as he tried to come to grips with what the teamster had said.

  The diver's jaw tightened. `Will you be paying in cash then, Mr Luk?'

  `No. It is not possible,' Ben's voice rose as he spoke. `I do not have enough money in the house. And if your employer will not let you leave the materials without immediate cash payment, then you will just have to take them back to his yard.'