Blackbird

by David Crookes

Moser opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated as if trying to find the right words. Clare could see he was ill at ease.

  `What is it, Silas, what on earth is it?'

  `Something has been troubling me for some time, Clare,' he said gravely. 'It's a personal matter, but I suppose it involves all of us to some degree. It... It concerns a promise I made to Alexander a long time ago.I...'

  Clare lay down her pruning shears and took Moser by the arm `Come inside, Silas, you don't look well.' She led him into the summer-house where they sat down on a white wooden bench. She smiled reassuringly. `Now tell me, Silas, what promise did you make to Alexander?'

  For some time, Moser stared into the hardwood planking of the summer-house floor without saying a word. At last he said, `When Alexander lay dying in my arms he made me promise to look after his son.'

  Clare looked at Moser apprehensively. `What are you talking about, Silas? Alexander and I never ...'

  Moser drew a sharp breath and started to get up. Before he could walk away, Clare took his arm and he slowly sat back down.

  `I'm sorry, Silas,' she said. `I can see how distressing this is for you. Now, tell me what you came here to say. I promise I shall not make it any more difficult for you.'

  `There was a woman,' Moser resumed staring into the floor of the summer-house. `Although, looking back I suppose she was really just a girl. She was a Kanaka, a pretty thing from the Trobriand Islands, but she had the bearing of a princess. I never knew the details, but somehow she and Alexander... well, the boy must be ten years old now. I...'

  `Please,' Clare interjected quickly. `I don't need to know the details, Silas.' She looked Moser directly in the eye `You and I know only too well the foolish things that can happen in otherwise perfectly happy marriages when one partner feels neglected or taken for granted.' She sighed. `I suppose I must have let Alexander down in some way.'

  Moser looked relieved to have got his story off his chest. `You're a good woman Clare,' he said. `Of course, I had hoped I would never have to tell you all this, but I always knew if the time did come, despite the hurt, you would find it in your heart to be compassionate.'

  A tear welled in Clare's eye. She patted Moser's hand. `And you have looked after the boy all these years, Silas?'

  `Well not directly, Clare, he hasn't always been in need of support. You see, soon after Alexander's death, the girl took up with the owner of a brickyard and until recently he provided for them quite well, although I always stayed discreetly in the background to make sure the boy wanted for nothing.'

  `What has happened that has made you come to me and tell me all this, Silas?'

  `A number of things. First, the chaotic state of the financial affairs in the colony has forced the brickyard into foreclosure, and the owner has absconded, leaving the boy and his mother penniless and facing eviction. I could intervene and assist in the short term, but beyond that I don't know...'

  `But you are a man of some means, Silas, surely...'

  `Yes, at the moment that's true. But the future is cloudy. I had always hoped to perhaps bring the lad into the firm. I know Alexander would have liked that. But I have learned that British Far Eastern plan to replace me as head of Stonehouse's as soon as they can after they take over.'

  `Did Percival say that?'

  `No.'

  `Then I shall speak with him as soon as he returns from Sydney.'

  `To what avail, Clare? He is merely a middle-man with no actual authority, and would be obliged to deny it in any case.' Moser sighed. `No, I'm afraid with my position gone, and with my resources limited, I may not be able to do all that Alexander would have wanted for the lad.'

  Clare drew a deep breath. `What is the boy's name?'

  `Sky.'

  She looked startled.

  'Skye.' Clare repeated the name in rich highland brogue. Her mouth widened slightly into a tight ironic smile as the word rolled off her lips. `Oh Silas, only Alexander could have given him that name. `Skye. It's the place where Bonnie Prince Charlie, another outcast, was forced to hide from the English, until he could finally claim what was rightfully his.'

  Moser couldn't believe his good fortune at Clare's assumption of a deeper meaning to just a sheer coincidence of names, and he was careful not to say anything which would dampen her emotions.

  She stood up suddenly and began to pace the summerhouse floor. `Does Catherine know anything of this?'

  `I'm afraid so. Somehow I let it slip years ago, when she refused to sign the bank papers for our first refrigerated ships.'

  `I remember that Silas, just how did you get her to sign?'

  `I had to agree to transport the boy and his mother back to the Trobriands, so there was no chance of a scandal ruining Catherine's social life.'

  `And you did that?' Clare asked incredulously.

  `I had no choice. You must remember I also promised Alexander to look after you, which meant ensuring Stonehouse's always ran at a profit. But I saw to it that the boy and his mother were returned to Queensland soon after Catherine executed the bank documents, but of course she knows nothing of that.'

  Clare stopped pacing and turned to face Moser. `You wouldn't have come here unless you needed me Silas.What is it you would have me do?'

  `I would like you to reconsider selling Stonehouse's. If I continued on in my present position, I would have no concerns about being able to honor my commitment to Alexander.'

  Clare resumed pacing. `What does the boy look like?'

  `Like a ten-year-old Alexander, only darker. The resemblance really is quite striking.'

  She drew a short breath. `As you well know I was never able to bear Alexander a son. It was something we both so desperately wanted, but something that always remained beyond our grasp—the one thing that no amount of money could buy.' Clare came back to the bench and sat down beside Moser. `Silas, do you think the woman would give up Skye to me, if I guaranteed to provide for her every need?'

  Moser stared thoughtfully into space as he pretended to ponder the situation which he had been certain would arise from the moment he had first contemplated revealing the boy's existence to Clare.

  `I see no reason why not.After all, she has another child and herself to consider. The boy would be coming to his rightful home, and would be more than well provided for. In these difficult times, and in the circumstances, I think she should be very grateful.'

  `Then make the arrangements Silas. Do it just as soon as you can. Bring the boy home to Castlecraig and I will tell Percival Fairweather that I have decided not to sell the Stonehouse Shipping Company.'

  Moser took her hand and leaned forward and brushed his lips against her cheek.

  `Don't, Silas, not again.' Clare rose swiftly from the bench. `I'm not a lonely young girl any more with a husband always away at sea. I'm a lonely old woman who's just been given a reason to live.'

  *

  Charles arrived home from the South Brisbane wharf and went directly to his apartment to dress for dinner. Like Alexander Stonehouse before him, he enjoyed the sanctuary of the privacy of the tower, especially now since Catherine had stopped coming to him at night, freeing him from the self-loathing he always suffered after she manipulated his weaknesses. He didn't even care in the slightest that she laid the blame for her inability to conceive squarely on his shoulders.

  Charles had more important things on his mind. Ever since Percival Fairweather had told him about Vivian and her situation, the old embers of their affair had been fanned into a roaring flame. He hadn't spent a minute of any day without thinking of Vivian, and every night he lay awake until the early hours of the morning, wrestling with his conscience, unable to get Vivian and her son out of his heart, or off his mind.

  Now at last, for better or for worse, he had reached a decision—one which gave him peace of mind, without knowing in his heart that he had once again chosen the path of least resistance. This time he was determined to do the right thing, even if it meant losing everything. He would move swiftly. Tonight,
he would tell Catherine that he was leaving her to return to England.

  As always, Jenkins had laid out his dinner-jacket on the bed. Charles slipped into it quickly, then stood for a moment in front of the full length mirror. He made a brief final adjustment to his tie, then went downstairs to the dining-room.

  He was pleased to find Catherine alone at the big table. He took his seat and waited until the meal had been served and the servants had left the room to return to the kitchen. Then, determined to say what he had to say quickly and get it over with, he drew a deep breath and began, `Catherine...I...'

  `Charles.' she interrupted him impatiently, as a parent would a small child. `When I returned home this afternoon from making some last minute catering arrangements for the reception, I saw Silas in the summer-house with Mother. He would never come here on a working day unless it were a matter of great importance. I'm sure they are making the final arrangements to sell Daddy's company. After Silas left, mother went upstairs. I went up after her, but she wouldn't speak to me, and just a few minutes ago she refused to come down for dinner. Just what is going on? Is there something you should tell me?'

  `As a matter of fact there is Catherine. But it's nothing to do with Stonehouse's. I want to tell you that...'

  `Whatever it is,' Catherine interrupted again, `it will have to wait until we have discussed what is going on with Stonehouse's. Do you understand?'

  Charles slammed his fist down angrily on the table. He glowered at Catherine. `I don't give a hoot about what happens to Stonehouse's. I...'

  Catherine sprung to her feet.

  `Well you damn well should, you ingrate,' she screamed at the top of her voice. `Thanks to your utter ineptitude at even the most basic of all human functions, my inheritance is being sold off in front of my very eyes, you... you eunuch...'

  Charles' rage gave way to disgust. He eyed Catherine contemptuously for a moment as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin. Then he rose from the table and walked out of the room. *

  It was early morning on the last day of July, and Sky sat on the end of the jetty at Jarrah with his fishing pole between his knees. Early each morning for the past two weeks he had gone down to the jetty, and stayed there most of the day, in case Ben chose to travel the last few miles of his homeward journey on the river.

  Sky looked down into the water. It was muddy and denied him any view of what may be swimming beneath the surface, so he held his pole lightly in his hands, to be sure of noticing even the lightest nibble at the end of the line. Suddenly he felt a sharp tug on the hook and he began to reel in. Seconds later a small mullet broke the surface and Sky hauled it up onto the jetty, where he killed it and began to clean it with a slim long-bladed knife.

  At that moment he heard the sound of a boat approaching. He looked up quickly, in time to see a steam-launch round the bend in the river. It headed directly for the jetty. Without taking his eyes from the launch, Sky wiped the fish-knife clean on the sleeve of his shirt and returned it to its sheath on his belt.

  Now he could see there were four occupants in the small vessel, two crew members and two passengers. Sky strained his eyes trying to see if one of the passengers was Ben. When the vessel drew close he recognized one of the men as the man who had come to Jarrah with papers the day before Ben left for Cooktown. The other man was tall and thin. Sky didn't wait for the vessel to come alongside. He turned and bolted up the hill toward the house.

  Kiri and Mrs Llewellyn had been on tenterhooks, and sick with worry for several days, anxiously awaiting Ben. They too had seen the launch on the river, and desperately hoped it was bringing him home. But their hopes were dashed when they saw Sky run away from the jetty and up toward the house.

  From what Sky told them when he rushed into the house, they were sure the visitors were Hiscock and his assistant from the law chambers of Finch, Fagel and Wutherspoon. With foreclosure not legally due to take place until the following day, they were both angered and more than a little scared at what they took to be an attempt to take possession of Jarrah prematurely.

  There was a loud knock on the front door. Mrs Llewellyn insisted Kiri and the children remain behind closed doors in the drawing room, while she went to answer it. When she opened the door and saw the man with Hiscock was Silas Moser, she gasped.

  Moser touched the brim of his hat with two fingers and pursed his lips in a polite smile.

  `Good morning, Mrs Llewellyn. It certainly has been a long time since our paths crossed.'

  `Not long enough, Mr Moser,' Mrs Llewellyn said stiffly, `Not nearly long enough.'

  `Now please, Mrs Llewellyn,' Hiscock said,trying to defuse the situation. "My client has come here today in the spirit of goodwill to try and work out an accommodation whereby it will not be necessary for us to foreclose on this property tomorrow. Would you please be kind enough to advise Mrs Luk of that, and ask her to listen to our proposal?'

  `I beg your pardon.' Mrs Llewellyn said quickly. `We thought you had come to evict us. Please wait here.'

  Mrs Llewellyn hurried through to the drawing room. When she told Kiri one of the men at the door was Silas Moser, fear showed in Kiri's eyes, and she put an arm around Sky and Christine and drew them close to her.

  `Whatever it is that brings that man to Jarrah, it is not the spirit of goodwill, Mrs Llewellyn,' Kiri said suspiciously. `You and I both know there is not an ounce of good in his entire body.'

  `But you have nothing to lose by talking to them, Miss Kiri. Perhaps we may gain some time. If Mr Luk does not return by tomorrow, they will turn us all out anyway.'

  `You are right Mrs Llewellyn.' Kiri stooped and kissed the children. `Now run along you two, go up to your rooms while I talk with these men.'

  As Sky led Christine from the room, Kiri stood up and took a deep breath. She clenched her hands tightly in front of her. `All right, Mrs Llewellyn,' she said bravely, `I am ready now. Please show them in.'

  Mrs Llewellyn led Hiscock and Moser into the drawing-room, then backed away and stood against the wall to one side of the door. She heard a slight noise outside, and turned her head slightly. It was Sky, his ear to the door which she had left slightly ajar. Mrs Llewellyn looked across the room to Kiri. She nodded encouragingly.

  `Won't you sit down gentlemen?' Kiri said calmly.

  Both men declined and remained on their feet in the centre of the room. Moser glanced impatiently at Hiscock.

  Hiscock smiled awkwardly.

  `Under the circumstances,' he said, 'I think it best if I come straight to the point. Will you or your husband be settling in full the amount of the mortgage my client holds on this property?'

  `I hope so, Mr Hiscock. I don't have your money, but I expect my husband to return home with it at any time.'

  Hiscock's eyebrows rose, obviously unconvinced.

  `Come now, Mrs Luk, I think we all know there is virtually no possibility of that happening.' He opened his leather satchel and took out a single piece of paper. `In anticipation of that, Mrs Luk, I have been asked by my client to draw this agreement, which if you elect to sign it, will give you clear title to this property, and the total amount of monies outstanding on the mortgage will be forgiven.'

  Kiri's eyes widened. She glanced quickly over to Mrs Llewellyn, whose face registered her complete astonishment.

  `What is in the agreement, Mr Hiscock?' Kiri asked.

  Hiscock ran his eyes over the document in his hand. `In return for the unencumbered title of this property being given up to you, this agreement provides for permanent custody of your son, herein named Skye Alexander Stonehouse, fathered by Alexander James Stonehouse of Castlecraig in Hamilton, to be given over to the Stonehouse family forthwith.'

  Kiri could not contain her rage.She flew at Hiscock in blind fury, her hands clawing at his face. Hiscock's eyes were wide with terror when he felt her fingernails rake deep into his cheeks, and saw his own blood spurt onto her hands.

  Kiri turned to Moser.

  `Get out of this house! Get out of this
house,' Kiri screamed hysterically, tears streaming down her face.

  Moser lunged at Kiri and restrained her for a moment, but she broke free almost immediately. She moved quickly back to the fireplace, and made a desperate grab for the Waverley family sword which hung above the mantelpiece. Somehow, despite its great weight, she managed to lift it down, but before she could draw the huge blade from its scabbard, both men were upon her, pinning her roughly against the fireplace wall.

  Suddenly, Moser shrieked in pain. He clutched his side and spun around to find Sky, who had leapt to the defense of his mother, poised to strike again with his long-bladed fish-knife. Moser swung a savage backhand which caught Sky across the side of his face, and the boy dropped unconscious to the floor.

  Moser and Hiscock backed toward the door leaving Kiri on her knees on the floor, and holding Sky's still head in her lap. Mrs Llewellyn watched the brief, bloody struggle in stunned disbelief. She was still standingriveted to the spot when Silas Moser, his jacket stained with blood, and obviously in some pain, turned angrily to her and said:

  `We shall return at midday tomorrow, Mrs Llewellyn, to take the boy to his father's family home. Should the woman not be willing to sign the agreement at that time, we will send for police constables, and have the boy charged with assault with a deadly weapon. And afterward we will take possession of this property and evict you all.' Moser's face took on a sneer. `Unlike you, the Kanaka and the girl, Mrs Llewellyn, the boy will at least have a roof over his head. And he will have food in his belly while he is in custody awaiting trial, and afterwards, when he serves out a lengthy prison sentence.'

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  Catherine was delighted. It was just a few minutes after the first streaks of dawn appeared in the morning sky, and she was standing on the battlements of the tower at Castlecraig. Soon, beyond the still waters of Moreton Bay, a huge blazing sun would begin to lumber up over the horizon, and extinguish the last remaining stars in a cloudless sky.

  Ordinarily Catherine would never have dreamed of rising so early. But she knew this was to be no ordinary day. It would be a day to remember. Before the sun set, the grounds of Castlecraig would be filled with the elite of the colony attending the reception for the officers of the Australian Squadron; and she had worked long and hard to ensure it would be the most talked about event of the year's social calendar.