Ocean's Trial Page 2

  A woman stepped out of the shadows on the veranda, smoke trailing up from her cigarette as it shed ash on her stained corset. She looked expectant.

  "I am," I began cautiously, "but I –"

  "Maria!" Merry's voice startled me. "What are you doing in Bannister Street? Come quickly, before someone thinks you're one of their ladies of the night. What would your sweetheart say if he thought you were selling your body?"

  Selling my body? What in water would anyone want my body for? I stared at the corset-clad woman and realisation dawned. These women sold their affections to the male patrons of the hotel. There was no love between them.

  I inclined my head to the smoking girl. "I am sorry. My...my aunt is calling me."

  She waved as I hurried up the street to Merry.

  "I've found a job for you," Merry said as soon as I stepped into the sunshine on Pakenham Street. "One of the fishermen's wives is due to have her first baby soon and they're a hand short in the market. They need someone young and strong who knows numbers and fish. Do you think you can sell fish, Maria? Tell the difference between one fish and another?"

  I nodded and smiled. "I believe I can."

  "Did you send the telegram to your sweetheart?" Merry asked.

  I fingered the necklace in my pocket, unsure how to explain my confusion to Merry. "Yes," I lied instead.

  "Good. I'm sure it'll seem like no time at all until you see your sweetheart again." She led the way back to her house. "I hope you like fish. Part of your pay will be in spare fish at the end of the day. I admit I'm quite fond of fresh fish."

  I followed silently, stroking the string of pearls across my palm. The warm nacre was hard against my cool skin. No pawnshop nor jeweller would see these. I'd hide them in my room until I could return them to her. I'd earn the money myself before spending any on the search for William. One day, when I'd earned enough, I'd return the pearls to Merry and say I'd bought them back from the pawnbroker. She need never know.

  Four

  The scrape and clink of my bicycle sounded very loud in the darkness. The only other sound was the swish as the waves stroked the river bank, somewhere to my right. It might be the early hours of the morning and dreamtime for most people, but the fishermen had been out most of the night and when they landed their catch, my work day began.

  Leaning my bicycle against a boatshed, where at least a dozen others would join it before dawn, I smoothed my skirt as I strode down the jetty to the fish market, where no one seemed to sleep. Waves slapped the underside of the boards – the tide was higher than usual, or perhaps the weather was just rough. Not unusual for the middle of winter, after all. The smell of salt was strong, but the stink of fish gone bad was stronger – and the sleepy seagulls lining the boatshed roof knew exactly what it meant.

  The fishing fleet was home early. Our fishermen worked in all weather, except the worst. When they sought shelter in the harbour, there was a big storm coming and they wouldn't be going out again for a few days.

  A gust of wind almost blew me against the boatshed, showering me with salty spray. Must be some pretty huge waves for the spray to travel this far over the breakwater, I reflected, shoving open the market hall door.

  Inside, men carried baskets of fish to the wooden counters where they were being sorted and graded. Their chaotic movements, dodging in and out of each other's way and around the counters, resembled the frantic fish swimming in the live water-wells in some of their fishing boats. Hunters moving like prey. I didn't bother to hide my smile – they all knew me well enough to know that such an expression was never far from my face. "Good morning!" I called, repeating the greeting or reinforcing it with a wider smile and a nod to each man I passed.

  "You look fresher than this morning's catch, Maria. How long have you been working here – two or three weeks, surely?" asked Angelo Lacava.

  I inclined my head. "Three years and three weeks, more like, but you've given me the same compliment every morning, so thank you, once again." Three years and three weeks of trying to forget William, wishing he'd come to claim me and knowing he wouldn't.

  He grimaced. "You tell Basile you don't want to work for him any more and come work for me instead."

  "You're not stealing our lady of the sea, Lacava!" Tony Basile called, grinning. "Besides, the boys brought in a surprise this morning. I've been keeping it just for her." He lowered his voice. "I told them to leave it in the well so you can see it alive. The boys don't know what kind of fish it is – let's see how good you are."

  I winked. "You haven't caught me out yet, Tony. I know my fish. After a long night of fishing, some of you boys can't tell the difference between an octopus and an oyster. Let's see your mystery fish."

  He smacked a basket onto the counter. "Wait 'til the sun's up. Can't see a thing 'til daylight. Can you grade the dhufish? They're the last basket left. I had the boys put away a big one for you. He'll keep on ice until you go home."

  Merry and I couldn't eat two fish in one day – especially not if one was a big dhufish. I smelled something fishier than the scaled bodies I was sorting. "Why are you trying to tempt me with extra fish, Tony? What are you hiding behind that juicy dhuie?" I lifted a particularly large one and pointed its pouting lips at him.

  "Dad wants to go fish up north at the Abrolhos. He says the weather's better and the fish are bigger. But if we go and you work for someone else, you might not come back to us when we return and I...I'll miss you, Maria. Just the thought of you working for someone else makes me want to punch something."

  I moved the fish just before his clenched fist hit it. "You get jealous just thinking about me touching some other man's...fish?" I teased.

  Tony reddened. "Not just his fish," he muttered, lifting the empty basket onto his shoulder as I tossed the fish into their respective buckets and tipped ice over the top.

  Shaking my head, I checked that all our stock had enough ice and crossed to Paolo's counter, which was piled high with fish. "Need a hand?"

  He looked at me as if I was his saviour – but one he didn't want to accept. "You know you'll only get in trouble if you help me. I haven't been fishing as long as the others, is all. One day I'll be able to sort as fast as the Basile boys, but until then..." Paolo sighed heavily.

  "Got enough ice?" I peered under the counter. "Looks like it." I raised my voice. "You're all in early this morning. Who else is finished sorting and has time to help Merlino?" My eyes swept the men who'd stopped to stare. "C'mon, boys. Am I the only one here with the balls to help a new fisherman sort his catch? If he sells snapper at the price of sardines, we'll have everyone wanting cheap fish tomorrow!"

  Three men who'd been talking quietly until I spoke ambled over, followed by two more. It took us twenty minutes, but we had Merlino's catch graded before the restaurateurs and shop owners arrived for the first pick of the morning's catch. I thanked each and every one of them, echoed by Merlino's equally fervent gratitude, and returned to the Basile counter just before a windswept, grumpy Tony reappeared.

  "It's blowing a gale out there already and the clouds are black," he said, shaking his head. "I had to check the boats were tied up securely. I've never seen weather this bad in Fremantle before. God knows what we're in for. I've heard of cyclones up north – can't be much worse than this."

  I bit my lip. "Cyclones sink fishing boats, even when they're tied up." I turned away and busied myself checking the ice levels, knowing I didn't need to.

  Tony hadn't moved, but I could hear him cursing quietly under his breath. "I'm sorry, Maria. I didn't mean to remind you. Fishing's a dangerous job and it's claimed the lives of good men. The sea's a cruel, jealous mistress." He touched the wood counter, as if trying to negate his curse.

  I nodded and rose. Wind whirled into the building, heralding the arrival of our first customers of the day.

  Five

  Despite the storm outside, we did brisk business all morning and I found myself sagging by early afternoon. Fortunately, the last customers
were on their way out. An unfamiliar young man now stood behind Paolo's counter, speaking to a girl I recognised. Lucy hefted her purchases and carefully made her way out the door.

  I helped Tony search the remaining buckets of ice for saleable or edible fish, but we had surprisingly few left. People had come to buy their Friday fish early, I assumed, knowing no sane fisherman would go out in this weather.

  Laying the remaining dozen fish beside the last bucket of sardines, I heard a high-pitched scream outside. I broke into a run and made it through the doors first. Lucy stood on the jetty, a hessian bag on the boards at her feet. It looked suspiciously empty. "What happened?" I asked.

  "Mum wanted some crabs to steam for dinner tonight, so I bought some. One ripped his way through the bag and they all took off into the water! What'll I tell Mum now?" She burst into tears.

  I peered over the edge, into the waves. I caught a glimpse of what looked like a claw waving and slipped out of my shoes. Swearing I'd set a bucket of the clawed beasts on the idiot who'd sold her crabs without securing their claws first, I dived into the wintry water after her escaped dinner.

  The cold came as a shock, but the push and pull of the storm surge felt far more powerful. I wished I could stay and swim in it for longer, but I'd have to wait. I spotted a swimming crab, then two more, all headed for the shelter of the mud at the base of the moorings. The nearest was currently occupied by a boat with a well of salt water in the middle, which I recognised as Tony's Star. Inside the well, a sleek, striped body swam furiously in circles. Mesmerised, I felt my mouth water at the thought of the wahoo. I hadn't tasted one since the day I'd last seen William.

  Crabs, I reminded myself. First, I had to catch the errant crustaceans and then I could take my fish prize home. I scooped them up, warning them to keep their claws to themselves, and headed for the surface. I scaled the ladder and dripped along the jetty, not pausing to grab the ruined bag from Lucy's feet. I didn't need such flimsy protection from their claws. No, someone would soon need protection from me.

  The wind chilled my skin through my soaked dress, but my body was fuelled by fury as I stormed back into the markets. "Who sold these to Lucy?" I thundered, waving my crustacean catch above my head. "Who thought it'd be funny to give a teenage girl crabs in a hessian sack that they could rip through with their claws?"

  "She wanted crabs, so I gave them to her," an unfamiliar voice drawled. "No one told me I had to gift wrap them. Not my fault she didn't bring something better to put them in."

  Paolo edged away from his new offsider, shaking his head as he said, "I didn't know. I should have checked. He said he knew what he was doing..."

  I nodded to Paolo to indicate I understood, before glaring at the new man. "Idiot. What's your name?"

  "I don't take orders from some girl." Idiot strode across the floor to me, wagging his finger to emphasise his words. "You should be at home, cooking and cleaning for your husband, waiting for him to come home and put you in your place, not trying to do a man's job." The wagging finger touched my breast.

  I took a deep breath and looked down. The idiot had balls and a growing bulge to match. Not for long. I jerked my knee up and heard him emit a satisfying squeak. Then I kicked his legs out from under him and dropped him to the boards, hearing the breath whoosh out of his lungs as he landed in the puddle at my feet. I dropped the crabs on his chest, where they promptly raised aggressive claws. I hoped they drew blood before someone bothered to rescue him.

  "Get her your three biggest, well tied, and give her his share of the catch for today," I instructed Paolo, who nodded and headed past his prostrate employee.

  "I'm sorry, Maria," he said sorrowfully. "His name's Giorgio. I needed help and I don't have any family here, so I had to hire an assistant. I was desperate."

  He might be more helpful carved up into fish bait, I thought but didn't say. Paolo seemed to be thinking something similar.

  I nodded again and grabbed my coat. I didn't want to wrap it around my soaked dress, but I had little choice. Judging by the torrential rain sheeting down over the ocean, my coat wouldn't remain dry for long, anyway. Yet another reason to pedal home faster. I grabbed the bucket of sardines and tucked my enormous, newspaper-wrapped dhufish under my arm. As I passed Idiot – Giorgio, I reminded myself – I selected a small sardine and dropped it on his chest, just below his chin. His crab colony crowded closer, eager to investigate. "Next time, I won't just kick. I'll cut it off and use it for sardine bait."

  Several men sniggered. I acknowledged them with a small smile and wished them all a good day.

  "Wait!" I heard Tony call. I halted as I heard his running footsteps, using the spare moment to slip my boots back on. "I'll run you back in the truck. I have deliveries to make, you're drenched and I still haven't shown you the surprise fish the boys kept for you!"

  I agreed and followed him to the Star. He held his hand out to assist me aboard, but I just grinned and leaped, as always. For a moment, I stood on the tiny deck and closed my eyes, feeling the boat move beneath me in the stormy waves. I could've been on a raft or lifeboat, adrift on the Indian Ocean again, wondering if I'd ever see another soul again and whether my heart would truly break apart within my chest from the loneliness.

  "Who was that bitch? When I speak to her father, she'll get the hiding of her life!" I heard Idiot say inside the market building.

  He was greeted by silence.

  "Get up, boy," Giuseppe Arena grunted. The gruff voice of the grandfather of the fish market was unmistakeable. "You'll do no such thing. If you want to work here, when you see her again, you'll beg Mrs Speranza to forgive you for the insult. And if she says your name is Idiot, you may as well forget whatever you were baptised."

  I heard spluttering, followed by a shaky, "What? That harpy has a husband? My God, how does he tolerate her without beating her?"

  "Had, boy. He was a fisherman and he drowned in a cyclone up north, leaving her a young widow. And she's Merry D'Angelo's niece. Every man among us would fire you and take Maria in your place in a heartbeat. She knows her fish better than any man alive, handles a boat better'n most and she's a damn good cook, too. A true lady of the sea is our Maria and if she says you're bait, none of us will argue."

  "Maria? You make her sound like some sort of saint. Did you see what she did to me?"

  "Mrs Speranza to you, boy, until she says otherwise. Yessir, every man here saw you knocked down by a girl. You'd best pray she doesn't do it again, for hell has no fury like that woman when she's angry."

  Idiot didn't say any more.

  Tony's voice cut through my distraction. "Uh, Maria?"

  I opened my eyes and followed Tony's gaze to the angry wahoo, racing around the circular well like a motorcycle at Ascot race track. I itched to race the fish in open water, though I knew it was far faster than I.

  "The boys thought it was a tuna, but it's too skinny," Tony continued. "I thought it was a mackerel from up north, caught up in the storm, but the head doesn't look right. What do you say?"

  I grinned. "This is my favourite fish in the whole ocean, and one of the fastest. It's a wahoo, because that's the sound of a fisherman cheering when he catches one." I dropped my coat on the deck, beside the rest of my things, then slid into the well with the wahoo. The fish slowed down, rubbing its smooth scales against my leg as it passed me. I floated, motionless, for a few seconds, waiting for its second pass, before I struck. I seized it by the gills and lifted it high out of the water. It fought me, the tail thrashing against my legs even as I held its head above mine, but I held on until Tony found a knife and cut its throat. He took the dying fish from me so I could haul myself out of the well. This time, I donned my coat against the wind and searched for a bag for the fish. I grabbed Lucy's ruined hessian sack from the jetty and wrapped the still-struggling fish in it. Unlike the teenager, I wasn't willing to relinquish my prize.

  I hugged my fish in the truck cab while Tony loaded my bicycle into the tray behind us. Paolo's new assi
stant didn't even cross my mind – I was too happy.

  The passenger door opened and Lucy peered in. "Sorry, ma'am. Mr Basile said I should climb in and he'd give me a ride, what with so much to carry. I hope you don't mind." I shuffled further along the bench seat as she climbed into the cab beside me and shut the door. "Thank you, ma'am, for your help with the crabs. Mum usually does all the shopping, but she's expecting another baby any day, so she sent me instead. She says I need to learn if I'm to get married one day."

  "Call me Maria," I said. "How's your mum and dad?"

  "Mum's as big as a house and can't do much, so I'm helping as much as I can. I don't want any children of my own. They're too much work!" Her dark eyes popped wide open. "My brother keeps banging on about some birding expedition he wants to lead up north, with this Naturalists' Club he set up a few years ago. He says when I'm old enough he'll take me, but the guano mining islands up north are no place for a girl."

  "I'd love to go," I said. Guano mining – what William was supposed to be supervising. The devil's tit, Christmas Island, paradise for bird crap and crabs...perhaps if I could find the place, I could see him again. I'd show him that I, too, had survived the shipwreck that might have killed us both, and maybe, just maybe...

  The door slammed as Tony sat in the driver's seat beside me, shaking raindrops from his hair as he grinned. "Ladies, this afternoon I'll be your driver. First stop will be Lucy's house, then Maria's before I start my delivery run. Last run of the week, if this weather doesn't let up." He glared at the clouds as we set off along Marine Terrace.

  Six

  "So, where do you live, Lucy?" Tony asked.

  She laughed. "Mum and Dad's orchards are out in Armadale, but my brother and I are taking the train home. He'll meet me at the station if you drop me there."

  Tony turned left sharply, pulling the truck to a halt in front of the station. He graciously helped Lucy down and started assembling her fish, stacking everything up to carry it for her.