18 May 1882, Benevolence
The swell was still dangerously high, but the white horses on the crests of the waves had subsided. A cold wind, full of salt spray, tugged at Laura’s clothes and stung her cheeks, but it was not the furious one she remembered from earlier. Above her, the clouds were moving over a moon that hadn’t been there before, round and full with a sickly pallor tinged with green.
The storm had taken the worst of its fury somewhere else and left them with the memory.
When they reached Thankful Cove, Laura’s father took hold of Edmund’s arm and they came to a halt. Edmund was a little startled but waited obediently to hear whatever was about to be said. They stood huddled in a group, and Laura rubbed her gloved hands together to keep them warm and stamped her feet to thaw out her toes. The tide had turned again and the beach was beginning to collect debris from what remained of the Alvarez, while the lighthouse sent its bright flashing light across the scene before moving on.
‘My daughter and I found a body down here when we came looking for more survivors,’ Leo explained. ‘Didna want to say anything in front of the others. They have enough to be getting on with.’
Edmund’s dark eyes narrowed as he turned from Leo to Laura. ‘Do you know …?’ he began and then changed it to, ‘What does he look like?’
‘He’s a she. Youngish lass, fair hair, pretty.’ Leo cleared his throat and Laura knew he was thinking again of her mother.
Edmund’s expression changed to surprise. ‘A woman? There were only two women on board, Mrs Munro and her maid. Could it be the maid? I never saw her. She and Mrs Munro kept to their cabin, but I saw Albert Munro when I arranged the passage to Melbourne. I knew he was travelling with his wife. I spoke to him when we were taking the air after the Alvarez sailed, and he said she was feeling poorly but her maid was caring for her. He told me that what ailed her was mal de mer and only a smooth passage could cure that.’
‘A stowaway?’ Laura suggested. ‘Although, she was too well dressed for a stowaway, I would have thought,’ she added, remembering the orange stone pinned to her lacy collar.
‘So, this must be the maid,’ Edmund said. ‘Unless there was another woman on board, and I don’t know of one, but then I’m not the captain. The mate will know.’
Leo nodded thoughtfully. ‘Do you think Mrs Munro might identify her for us? Just to be sure. I need to do things properly. The Marine Board will want a full account.’
‘No, Dad,’ Laura murmured and shook her head. She remembered the grief in the woman’s brown eyes when she spoke of finding her husband. ‘Mrs Munro is in no state to do that just yet.’
Leo cleared his throat again. ‘Aye, well, we could show her an item of the lass’s clothing if seeing a body would be too much for her. We do need to put a name to her. Once the authorities are informed, questions will certainly be asked.’
Edmund looked around. ‘Where is she? Can I see her?’
‘We left her safe just over there. Above the tideline.’
They began to move in that direction. It was not until they were almost at the spot where they had left the woman’s body that Leo muttered under his breath and began to run. Laura saw then that the shallow cave was empty. The tide must have swept in here, after all, although she would have thought that even if the storm had pushed the waves higher up the beach, the body would have been at the outer reaches of it. The coat her father had tucked around the woman was lying in a sodden heap, as if it had been dragged from her or tossed aside. But the body was gone.
Leo was standing, staring, as if he could bring her back by the power of wishing.
‘A rogue wave?’ Laura said.
He frowned. ‘The water got as far as the cliff, but not into the cave. See.’ He bent down and sifted the sand through his fingers. It was dry.
‘Maybe she was still alive?’ Edmund suggested.
Laura hesitated, contemplating whether her father’s memories of her mother might have interfered with his usual clear thinking. She shook her head decisively.
‘No.’ That cold, bluish skin, the half-open eyes, and the long fair hair matted with sand. ‘My father and I have seen the dead before. There was no mistake.’
‘No mistake,’ Leo repeated with grim finality.
Edmund hesitated and then said, ‘Do you keep any animals on the island?’
Laura and Leo exchanged a glance. ‘We have the usual farm animals,’ Leo answered, ‘as well as the horses and bullocks.’
‘I meant native animals.’
‘Wallabies, some brush-tailed possums, penguins and plenty of other seabirds. Nothing that could move a human body, if that’s what you’re thinking, Mr Bailey.’
‘Then if the tide didn’t take her, a flesh-and-blood someone did.’ Edmund’s voice was confident, his conclusion indisputable.
And yet, the only people currently on the island were in the quarters above, or standing here on the beach. Could one of the survivors have slipped away and taken the body despite the storm and the risks of being discovered? Perhaps. But the real question was why? And besides, how could they have known about the maid’s body? Leo and Laura had not told anyone.
Laura could see by the darkening expression on her father’s face that he was asking himself the same questions. Finally, he shook his head. ‘We can’t do anything about the poor lass now. We need to get the lifeboat out. There may be living in need of our help—the dead can wait.’
Leo picked up his coat and put it to one side, to collect on their way back. The tide had certainly moved it from its original position, but Laura wondered again if that was because of the pull of the sea or because someone had tossed it aside. Was Edmund right? she mused as they made their way over to the boatshed.
‘How big is the island?’ Edmund was gazing up at the steep hillside above the cove. ‘Is there anywhere else to moor a boat?’ He was obviously still exploring his theory.
‘Benevolence is around five miles across and four miles long.’ Leo hesitated in his stride, following Edmund’s gaze. ‘There’s an anchorage to the south, which isn’t deep enough to take vessels with more than a shallow draught, and another on the far side, sheltered by Birds Nest Island. That’s only safe in calm weather. A riptide runs between the two islands and it can be treacherous. I’ve heard of fishermen dropping anchor there now and again, but I’ve never seen them. They keep to themselves.’
‘Birds Nest Island?’
‘It’s more of a rock than an island. No one has ever climbed to the top of it, as far as I know. The cliffs are too sheer. Seabirds nest there.’
They opened the boatshed doors and secured them. Laura could see how close to the building the water had come during the height of the storm, and despite the inconsistencies, it no longer seemed impossible that the woman’s body had been taken by the sea. The two boats were stowed in here, the smaller dinghy that they used as a lifeboat in waters closer to the island, and the whaleboat that was suitable for the deeper ocean.
They wheeled out the lifeboat to the beach until they reached the water’s edge and were able to launch it. It was strenuous work as the lifeboat was sturdy rather than elegant, but over the years it had served them well. Leo and Laura took an oar each, and Edmund sat in the bow, holding the lamp aloft. Despite the moon, it was still difficult to see what lay in front of them, as they began the cautious task of approaching the dangerous rocks and the broken schooner.
The surge around the Tiger’s Teeth was strong, and Leo made sure to keep a safe distance. As they drew closer, they could hear the groan of timbers above the wash of the waves. A word here, a dip of the oars there, they kept apart from the wreckage, eyes and ears alert for the sound of the living. Sadly, apart from the flap of a ripped canvas, there was nothing.
‘Anyone there?’ Her father lifted his voice. ‘Is there anyone who needs our help? Call out or make some sound so that we can hear you.’
They waited, but apart from the wash of the water and the grating of timber on rock there was only silence.
‘Here!’ Suddenly, Edmund held up the lamp and pointed. Laura could see something floating in the water. For a moment, her heart jumped when she thought it was a swimmer, coming towards them, until she realised it was a man floating facedown on the surface.
Leo and Edmund moved to the side of the boat while Laura remained on her oar, keeping them steady. The two men leaned over the gunnel, scrabbling to grasp the sodden clothing and manoeuvre the body closer so that it could be hauled aboard. Minutes later, the body flopped into the bottom of the boat, a white hand thrown out as if in protest. Edmund grabbed the man by the shoulder and rolled him over so that they could see his face.
White flesh, like the underbelly of a fish, with a cut above his brows, and matted brown hair. His eyes were open, staring up at her, and Laura shuddered.
‘Best not to look, lass,’ Leo rumbled, but it was too late. Even as she turned away, Laura knew here was another image that would stay with her for a long time to come.
‘Do you know him?’ she whispered.
‘It’s Roberts,’ Edmund said expressionlessly, and when she glanced at him, Laura thought he might be sick. He swallowed. ‘Captain Roberts.’
They wrapped the body in the canvas sheet her father kept stowed under the stern seat, and continued on with their search. Leo called again and again, in time his voice becoming rough and scratchy from overuse, but there was no reply. At one point, they thought they might have some luck when Laura spotted the Alvarez’s lifeboat drifting further out. They set off for it, their boat lifting over the big rolling waves left by the storm, before sinking into the troughs. Laura’s face was dripping with spray and she gritted her teeth against the cold, her arms aching from difficult rowing.
But as they neared, they could see there was no one aboard. A few boxes and bags were strewn inside, as if the boat had been hastily prepared for evacuating passengers who never came. ‘Might be useful,’ Leo said, as he tied the boat to their own and prepared to tow it back to shore. ‘We’re waiting on the steamer to bring our quarterly supplies,’ he explained to Edmund. ‘We’re down to the last of our flour and sugar. And now that we have more mouths to feed …’
By now, the sky was beginning to lighten with the dawn, a strip of light on the horizon spreading until the sky was a milky blue dome scattered with grey clouds. The stark scene laid out before them was even more heartbreaking.
All that was left of the Alvarez was a fragmented shell, her keel jammed upon the sharp rocks, while the remaining timbers, once part of the hull, had been smashed or ripped away. She was like the skeleton of a whale, beached and picked clean. The mainsail washed into the water, and there was more flotsam now, drifting with the tide. Laura knew it would end up scattered around the island, just as the dead would eventually end up there, too. Because they had to accept that there were no more survivors to save.
Leo was resting on his oar as he looked back towards the cove and the hill above it. His weary face broke into a smile and he lifted an arm in a wave. Laura followed his gaze and saw Miriam there high on the track, holding Noah, and waving back. At first, Laura thought she was alone and assumed that the others must still be sleeping, recovering from their ordeal. And then she saw a man standing to one side of her. He wore a dark sweater that she knew to be green and shabby trousers, and his beard was dark, and if she had been closer, she knew it would have been flecked with grey.
‘Rorie,’ Leo named him with a frown. ‘Now the storm’s gone, he must be feeling better,’ he muttered. Leo had never liked Rorie, even before he caught him peeping on Laura. He said he was lazy and untrustworthy, two serious character faults when one lived on an island and needed to be relied upon.
As if he had felt their displeasure, Rorie slunk away.
‘No point in staying out here any longer,’ Leo said, abruptly brisk. ‘Let’s get back to shore.’
‘Poor Mrs Munro.’ The woman would be hoping for Albert and instead they had only bad news for her. Laura glanced down at the body wrapped in canvas. ‘Although, she won’t be the only one grieving.’
‘It could be weeks before anyone in Hobart knows the fate of the Alvarez,’ Leo said, as they manoeuvred the lifeboat expertly and dug the blades of their oars into the swirling water to begin their journey back to the beach.
‘What about the carrier pigeons?’ Laura asked.
‘I thought they’d flown off to somewhere better,’ Leo said.
‘We still have a couple,’ Laura reminded him. ‘I make sure they’re well fed so they’re not inclined to stray.’
‘They’re too fat to fly, lass!’
Edmund laughed. ‘Have you used pigeons before?’
‘Once or twice,’ Laura said, and found herself smiling at Edmund over her shoulder. ‘When Noah was born and Dad was worried, and Miriam wanted a doctor. It all ended well, though, which was lucky because no one arrived to help until Noah was a month old.’
Edmund looked bemused. ‘I can’t imagine my mother living in these conditions. And laughing about it! Her days are structured to within the hour—she is woken at eight with hot chocolate and toast, and then she sits down to her correspondence. Luncheon is at one, and afternoon visitors are received at three in the afternoon and not a minute before. We dine at eight in the evening, and the men are always left to their cigars and port.’
His words reminded Laura how different his life must be, how privileged. She spoke the truth without thinking. ‘I couldn’t live a life where my every moment was regulated. There is much to do here, but apart from tending the light, I make my own decisions. I value my freedom.’
‘Is it freedom? You live on an island far away from the rest of the world. Many people would see that as effectively a prison. Aren’t you lonely? Bored?’ Although his questions might be considered impertinent, she could see he did not mean them to be. He was trying to understand.
‘Not lonely, no. And not bored. And definitely not in prison.’
‘My daughter is a great reader,’ Leo said into the ensuing silence.
‘Don’t you want to see other places, meet other people?’
Laura thought about it. ‘I’m not sure I do,’ she decided. ‘Whatever its inconveniences, this is my home. I would miss it. Don’t you miss your home, Mr Bailey?’
His expression darkened and he looked away, watching as a gull flew low across the water. ‘I have no home,’ he said. ‘I have been cut loose, Miss Webster, and told to make my own way in the world.’ There was a tightness to his mouth and jaw, as if his situation did not please him.
‘But … why?’
Leo grumbled a warning, ‘Laura,’ but Edmund answered her, anyway.
‘I was considered a bad egg. More trouble than I was worth. I have an elder brother to inherit, and I was surplus to needs. I was sent to the colonies to make something of myself. To find a new life.’
‘And have you?’ Laura asked curiously, despite her father’s glare.
‘Not yet,’ Edmund admitted, his gaze sliding from Leo to Laura. ‘I don’t seem to be trained for much despite my expensive education and charming manners.’ This time his smile was wry.
‘So, you are a bad egg with charming manners?’
‘Laura,’ Leo sighed, but she ignored him and so did Edmund.
‘A bad egg should always have charming manners,’ he explained, that teasing note in his voice. ‘It allows him to get what he wants when other means fail. Not that it helped me after that business with …’ He glanced at Leo and whatever he saw there seemed to recall him to his audience. ‘Well, I won’t go into details, but it was not my finest hour and my father suggested I go to the Antipodes and learn to be a man and not a damned … dashed wastrel. My sisters wept and my mother, too, but they did not beg him to let me stay, so I can only assume they agreed with him. At twenty-one, I was aboard a ship for Hobart, where a distant cousin has a property, and everything I now owned in a single trunk. A year later, I am on an island in the middle of nowhere with nothing.’
Laura tried to think of something sympathetic to say to that unloading of emotion. Because he was obviously feeling hard done by, despite the undercurrent of dry humour in his voice. Feeling sorry for himself and trying to keep a stiff upper lip.
She remembered then what Edmund had said last night, the words that had upset Mr Jones. ‘Is that why you were asking about your trunk? Because all you have is in it?’
He grimaced. ‘All my worldly goods sunk to the bottom of the sea.’
‘It might yet wash ashore, lad,’ Leo said kindly.
Edmund did not seem convinced. Laura glanced surreptitiously at him. He could not be such a bad egg, could he? If he was willing to sooth Noah for Miriam, and help Laura remove her wet boots, or drag the body of a dead man into their lifeboat? Surely, a lost cause wouldn’t put himself out like that?
Suddenly, she was too tired and cold to think anymore. Sad too. This had been a dreadful night and the day was not the end of it. A moment later, the keel of the lifeboat slid through the shallows and wearily she climbed out to help haul it up the beach.