It was growing dark and they still hadn’t found Patricia.
Luckily a full moon lit the streets with a pale glow and the men could keep searching into the night. From our street, the light of their hurricane lamps bobbed in the distance and I could hear them calling out Patricia’s name, over and over.
Our kitchen was crowded with women brewing large teakettles on the stove and making sandwiches. Every fifteen minutes or so, one of the workmen or a soldier would call in with a progress report on the search, each one a little more anxious than the last. Mum sat in the corner rocking Bette’s pram and trying to calm her. The noise and voices had upset her.
I was outside, sitting on the fence, when I heard the roar of the old ferry engine starting up down at the jetty.
‘It’s Red Eric,’ one of the women announced. ‘He’s off to the mainland to collect Rob.’
‘Couldn’t someone on the mainland bring him over?’ said another.
‘There’s no-one on the mainland who’ll chance the crossing at night,’ the first voice replied. ‘It’s a treacherous journey if you can’t see your way.’
That was true enough. The island was surrounded with wrecks of ferries and ships that had run aground on all the reefs and shoals that surrounded the island. Their rusting ribs stuck out of the shallows like brown skeletons, reminding anyone foolish enough to try, not to ignore the perils of the sea. Only Red Eric had enough guts, with plenty of guts to spare. Like Little Eric, he was a full-blown hero as far as I was concerned.
The room fell silent as everyone listened to the sound of the ferry warm up and then pull away from the jetty and disappear into the night. I wondered if Mum might now forgive Red Eric for introducing Dad to Thor’s Hammer.
Captain Anstey arrived soon after, carrying his black doctor’s bag, to see how Mum was. He offered to give her something to calm her nerves if she needed it.
‘Captain Anstey,’ Mum said very quietly and calmly, ‘that’s very considerate of you and I appreciate your kind offer, but I need to have my wits about me for when Patricia comes home. And what about when Rob arrives? He won’t want to find me dosed up like some sort of mental patient, will he?’
Captain Anstey smiled kindly. ‘No, I don’t imagine he will, Mrs Jones.’
You can give it to me, whatever it is, I thought. Dose me up. My ribs only stopped hurting if I stopped breathing. I couldn’t decide if I needed to throw up or pass out. My heart pounded in my ears and my mouth felt as dry as a cockie’s cage. What if they never found Patricia? I tried to stop myself thinking like that.
Thud. I felt a small stone hit my back. Thud. The second one hurt.
‘Jack!’ Banjo’s voice sounded from across the road. ‘Jack!’ I could barely hear him. His head poked out from behind the neighbour’s wall. Dafty was with him as well, ducked down behind a bush. I slid off the wall and walked over, looking over my shoulder. Everyone inside was too busy talking to notice me.
‘What’s going on? Who are all these people?’ Banjo asked.
‘It’s Patricia. She’s missing.’
‘Oh, Jack, I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘We thought they were looking for Dafty.’ He paused for a moment. ‘I mean the Jap. There are soldiers everywhere, all over the island. We just missed them. They nearly found us at Shangri-la. We had to leg it out of there in a real hurry.’
‘You have to get the Riginy man, Jack,’ said Dafty in his slow, deliberate way. ‘He’ll know where to find Patricia. He can find anyone. He nearly found me even when I was a hiding in the bestest spot.’
As Dafty said that, a long shadow in the moonlight passed down the road. A figure was approaching from the direction of the bakery. I squinted, trying to make out who it was. Dafty was right, it was the Riginy man.
‘Stone the crows,’ I whispered in sheer relief.
Mr Isaacs held Patricia in his arms, her head buried in against his broad shoulder. But was she hurt or even still alive? Why wasn’t she walking? My stomach started to lurch. As he stepped closer, I could hear Mr Isaacs humming a soft song. I couldn’t understand the words. It was a strange sort of lullaby. Patricia must be all right. He wouldn’t be singing to her if she wasn’t.
Banjo smiled at me and nodded. ‘We’ll catch you tomorrow.’ He and Dafty turned and slipped into the shadows, just like The Shadow does before he pounces on Evildoers.
I hurried to open the gate for Mr Isaacs. As he stepped through, all the noise in the kitchen suddenly fell silent as the women crowded to the door.
Mum rushed forward, her arms outstretched. ‘Thank God. Thank God.’
‘She’s fine,’ said Mr Isaacs quietly. He looked around at the staring faces. Although pleased that Patricia had been found, everyone seemed awkward, uncertain at his presence. He bent slightly to hand my little sister over to Mum. Patricia was obviously tired out and almost asleep. She hardly stirred.
‘She just lost her way,’ Mr Isaacs said. ‘I found her down by the water.’
‘How, Mr Isaacs?’ I asked. ‘How did you know where to look?’
He smiled at me, ignoring everyone in the kitchen doorway. ‘How do you know where the end of your nose is, Jack, when you can’t see it?’
I shrugged my shoulders. ‘It’s just there. I know it is.’
Mr Isaacs gave a slight shrug and smiled because I’d obviously answered my own question. But then he leant over and whispered in my ear, ‘I was on my way over here and I bumped into her. She was nearly home.’ He put his finger across his lips. ‘Don’t tell anyone, though, Jack. Not good for the reputation. We blackfellas are supposed to have special powers.’
‘Mr Isaacs.’ Mum didn’t know how to thank him. Tears of relief had filled her eyes. She moved forward, rose up onto her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Several women gasped. I wasn’t sure if they gasped because Mum had kissed another man, or if it was because she kissed an Aboriginal bloke. Mum heard them as well. I could almost see her hackles rising.
‘Mr Isaacs,’ she said loudly, ‘take a seat here by the fire. You must be cold and exhausted. Can I get you a sherry? Something to warm you up a little? Or there might be a Swan left in the icebox.’
Mrs Purvis’s mouth tightened in such disapproval you’d have thought Mum had offered to dance the cancan.
Mr Isaacs shuffled his feet, embarrassed for Mum. ‘No thank you, Mrs Jones. I’d better get home. We’ve got a big job at the aerodrome tomorrow.’ He smiled at her. ‘We all have to work extra-hard with Mr Jones away on the mainland.’
‘No, please stay for a little while. At least have a cup of tea with us. Mrs Purvis will make it, won’t you, Mavis?’ said Mum with a wicked smile.
That was the moment when I realised why I was always getting into trouble. It was inherited directly from my mother.