Ocean's Trial Read online

  "Teach him to help out in the shop?" I suggested. "I'm sorry, Sal, I don't know. Try sending him out on one of the offshore fishing boats that are gone for a while – or pearling. I've heard the pearlers up north are always looking for young, fit men. Maybe if he grows up a bit, he'll settle down." I had no idea if that would be the case – I'd never had much to do with young men at all. It's not like I had brothers or male cousins.

  A well-wrapped rectangle slammed onto the counter. "Butter," Giorgio said sullenly.

  I smiled my thanks, tucked the butter into my basket, and started fishing through my purse for the correct coins. I was certain he hadn't charged me enough for the chocolate, but Sal insisted he had the right total. Shrugging, I paid him and hefted the now-heavy basket.

  "Boy! Help Mrs Speranza by carrying her shopping home for her." Sal winked at me, his open eye showing a fierce glint.

  Though perfectly capable of carrying my purchases home, I surrendered my basket to Giorgio, who set off down Market Street as if he knew where to go. I nodded my thanks to Sal and hurried after the boy before he took my chocolate somewhere it wasn't supposed to go. Not to mention my umbrella.

  I caught up to him before he hit Phillimore Street, but by that time I was already hobbling and cursing my horrible, heeled shoes. Appearances be damned. As soon as I got home, I'd make these disappear.

  "I live at the end of Tuckfield Street, near East Street," I informed Giorgio. "I'd intended to take the tram home. That's how I got here. Honestly, you could just –"

  "My brother said carry your things home. That's what I'm doing." His voice sounded flat and he kept his eyes on the road ahead. We trudged through puddles for a few more minutes, before he said, "I'm sorry I said stuff about your husband. I didn't know he'd...that you were..."

  I nodded and kept walking.

  "You don't look old enough to be a widow."

  I swallowed. "I was sixteen when Giuseppe died. Old enough to be a wife is old enough to be a widow, or so the ocean seemed to think when it took him from me."

  "I...I'm sorry."

  Silence descended until we reached the gate. I broke it by thanking the boy.

  He gave a curt nod and sloped off, scuffing his shoes on the dirt road as he pulled his cap down.

  Nine

  When I reached the kitchen, I found that Merry had coated all the fish, boiled some carrots and sliced the potatoes. We were busy stoking the stove, to make sure the frying pan would be nice and hot, when Tony breezed in, carrying a bottle under each arm.

  "My uncle's been experimenting with fermenting grapes again. He says it's his best white wine yet, but Mum says she won't have the stuff in the house, not after last time he brought over some home brew that was far too strong. So I saved a couple of bottles for you ladies, to thank you for the meal." He sniffed appreciatively, though all he could possibly smell was raw fish and cooked carrots. "Where's your ice box? I'm told this tastes better when it's cold." I pointed and he stuck one bottle deep inside. "Let's open this one now. Do you have any glasses?"

  Merry rummaged through the bottom cupboard of the dresser, moving things around for a full five minutes before she pulled out a strange, stemmed, funnel-shaped glass with a round foot. She produced two more, equally dusty glasses before climbing laboriously to her feet to carry them to the sink. I offered to help, but she refused.

  Shrugging, I returned to the stove and dripped some water into the cast iron pans. In the first, the droplets just formed an uninspiring puddle, but in the other they danced on the surface, telling me it was ready to fry my favourite fish. I dropped a generous dollop of butter into the pan and watched it melt and bubble. With more caution than I'd normally give a fillet, I lowered the first piece into the pan, then carefully added five more. Moving them around with my spatula, I decided there was space for one last piece. I breathed in the smell of searing fish and couldn't seem to focus on anything else, until I realised the stinging pricks against my arm were from the boiling water droplets in the second pan. I buttered that one, too, then added the potatoes.

  Behind me, I heard the chink and clink of someone setting the table before the sizzling drowned out all other sound. When the fish was almost browned on one side, I added more butter to the pan and flipped them over. I almost sighed in relief but didn't want to show my nervousness in front of Tony. Any other fish and I wouldn't mind, but I'd never eaten cooked wahoo before. It had to be perfect.

  A slight touch at my elbow made me jump and almost drop the spatula, but I recovered in time to stop it hitting the floor. "May I try something?" Tony asked. He didn't seem to want to explain further, so I nodded. He tipped the bottle of wine into the fish pan, so that it just coated the base. "My mother swears it's the only thing white wine's good for – cooking fish."

  The wine seemed to only enhance the aroma spiralling up, so I nodded again and concentrated on the potatoes, which were just about ready. I took the pan off the stove and tipped them into a serving dish Merry had set in the middle of her best tablecloth. Setting the dirty pan in the sink to soak, I scrutinised the fillets. Almost done...and they smelled amazing. I grabbed a serving plate off the table and transferred each piece of fish over, determined that they should look as good as they tasted.

  I slid into my seat, followed by Merry and Tony last of all.

  "Will you please say grace, Tony?" Merry murmured and we all bowed our heads as he spoke the words.

  When I lifted my head, I found both of them watching me. No one had touched the food. Shrugging, I reached for the nearest piece of fish and deposited it on my plate. Potatoes, carrots and whatever else could wait.

  I sliced a small bite off the end with my fork. The flesh was dense and white, cooked to perfection. I lifted it to my lips and tipped it onto my tongue. I closed my eyes, letting the flavour melt on my tongue before I crushed it between my teeth. Oh, it was sublime. Who'd have thought a cooked wahoo could be better than raw?

  I opened my eyes so I could see to slice off another piece, only to find both Merry and Tony staring at me in amusement. Tony's eyes smouldered with the same lust I'd seen in his eyes this afternoon. I couldn't fault him this time – I felt the same way about the fish as he evidently did.

  "From the look on your face, that fish is heaven itself. I must try some," he said, not taking his eyes off me as he reached for the fish.

  Merry was next and the meal seemed to continue normally after that. The Mills and Wares chocolate cake Sal had recommended went down well – and we didn't need to touch my stash of chocolate.

  It wasn't until after Tony had left, thanking me for dinner and reminding me about our snapper fishing insanity in the early hours of the following day, that I realised the open bottle of wine still stood on the bench, next to the three untouched glasses.

  Ten

  When are you going to let your heart love again? Merry's words echoed in my head as I pulled the front door shut softly, hoping I didn't wake her. My bare feet padded silently across the veranda and down the steps. Even in the midnight darkness, the slap of stormy waves on the ferry dock called to me. I wanted...no, I needed to swim in this storm. Besides, I had to check that Tony was right about the snapper – perhaps even find a suitable spot to suggest, when he came for me in the hours before dawn. Until then, I had time to myself – just the ocean and I. Today's swim in the harbour had been too much temptation to resist. I needed to feel the ocean's raw power again.

  I stepped off the dock and plunged in, feet first. Cold water caressed me as I peeled my nightgown off and wrapped it around one of the submerged beams beneath the jetty. I wanted no clothing between my skin and the swell.

  Stretching, I opened my gills and took a life-giving draught of oxygenated water. It left a thrilling tang of salt on my tongue as it carried away all the confusion of my human life on land. I pressed my heels together and delivered a powerful kick that sent me deep into the channel in the middle of the river. My skin was both warm and cold as it rippled, stretched and cover
ed my useless legs and feet. When I could feel my tail-flukes extending well past the bones of my land-toes, I flipped over onto my back and undulated my way along the river to its gaping mouth, fixing my eyes on the rain-pelted surface above.

  I knew when I cleared the harbour, for the sound of waves pounding timber, steel, and stone retreated into the distance and the open ocean beckoned. My true home. Powerful, wind-driven waves stroked my body harder than any man could – even William, when he'd been caught up in our passionate lovemaking aboard the ship.

  Much like the time I'd spent with William and with Giuseppe, my love affair with the storm would be short-lived – a brief bout of pleasure before they left me forever, spent or shipwrecked or sent away. One thing the men had that trumped the storm was their ability to kindle a fire in my heart, while the storm left me cold inside. I'd fight the storm to the point of exhaustion, but with men, the pleasure we shared seemed to feed off each other, making me desire them even more.

  My heart already loves, Merry, I wanted to say. It loves Giuseppe and William. Perhaps one day it will love another, but only if I know William no longer loves me. I do not forget, nor forgive, but William has never wronged me, no matter what you might think.

  A glimpse of a tail smaller than mine drew me out of my reverie. I called to the young dolphin, asking what he pursued. He slowed to let me catch up, then kept pace with me as he told me of snapper schools in the harbour and close to the coast. He'd show me the choicest spots, if I wished, but there were many of his kind there, too. The storm had brought in a veritable feast of fish. I agreed and we swam south, toward Garden Island.

  Every rock big enough to graze the surface was a snapper feeding frenzy – a flurry of pink fish, ranging from less than a foot to up to around two feet in length. My dolphin companion darted in to catch a few of the herring-sized juveniles, wolfing them down whole.

  "This is where everyone else is," he said, pointing his snout ahead into the churning water. It wasn't hard to see why. A snapper that must've been more than three feet long grazed me as it sped past, closely pursued by two bottlenose dolphins. I bobbed to the surface in an effort to get out of their way. From the crest of the wave, I saw the chimney of the smelting works at Catherine Point, and Robbs Jetty to the south. That placed us at the aptly-named Fish Rocks.

  "Come play," the young dolphin said, now surrounded by half a dozen dolphins the same size as he. For a moment, I hesitated, but it had been so long since I'd swum for the sheer joy of it. Especially in storm surge.

  Within moments, I was laughing and darting between them, feeling freer than I had in years. It was like being a child again, playing with my sister and the spinner dolphins in the lagoon. Until Mother found out, and then it would be back to tedious lessons on politics, biology, ocean currents and waves. Duyong was the future leader, not me, but Mother had insisted that I learn everything Duyong did, so that I could assist her as she did my mother. But Duyong had died and I was banished – who would my mother make her heir now?

  As if my gloomy thoughts had summoned her, she was there. "You are not one of them," Mother said. Her deep blue tail, the colour of the ocean depths, had hidden her until she was almost upon me.

  I stopped circling the dolphins and drew myself up. "What, a dolphin? Of course not." I gritted my teeth against the desire to show her proper respect, as my Elder, my Matriarch and the leader of the Indian Ocean Elder Council. When she cast me out, she set me free of her authority. She might rule this entire ocean, but she no longer ruled me.

  "No, not dolphins. Humans. You are not human. In fact, you have more in common with these dolphins than you do with those who are limited to land."

  "That is not true. We breed with humans, not dolphins," I countered. "I never heard of one of ours being pack-raped by a gang of male dolphins, nor consenting to such an act."

  A number of dolphins conveyed their amusement at the idea. No, dolphins were not attracted to us as mates, or us to them.

  "Do not forget – " she began

  "Do not forget you cast me out? Sent me far from home? Stole my daughter from me? Ordered me to find some other man to love, as if that were even possible, after losing the first? You told me not to return unless I could do the impossible. This is me not returning. Making a life for myself here, among people who will accept me as one of their own, though I am not." Angrily, I took off toward the port, not bothering to look back.

  I felt the flowing water as she caught up. My mother was old, but her body was as powerful as mine. "Their people do not swim in storms with dolphins. For all you pretend, you will always be one of the ocean's gift. Your gills and your tail mark you for what you are. One of us, not one of them."

  "They like and accept me. You do not. I will stay where I am happy!" I sped up, hoping to lose her but knowing it was futile.

  "They will learn to fear you if they do not already. You have the power to kill and control many of them – just one of you. Others have tried to live among them and failed. It is merely a trial and it must end. One day you will slip and reveal your secret – and all those you have protected and cared for, you will have to kill. Always it has been so." Her satisfied smile infuriated me.

  I stopped and snapped, "I use my power to help and not hurt them. They are my people now." The ferry dock was fast approaching and I didn't want to put Merry in danger. Mother's anger rolled off her in waves and all my childhood instincts told me to capitulate and obey her, but the adult in me resisted. I was a child no longer.

  She laughed. "You cannot protect them all. These land-bound creatures and their creations are too fragile..." She crossed to the far side of the channel and brushed her tail across the sand at the bottom of the rail bridge, scattering sand into the turbulent water. She dug her flukes deeper, releasing more white grains. "You see what only one of us can do?"

  She'd changed the shape of the sand embankment only slightly, but that was all it took. Knowing ocean currents and their effects was ingrained in me from my earliest memories and my heart leaped into my throat at the knowledge of what her small change would catalyse.

  I watched in horror as the swirling floodwaters mimicked her erosion, but on a far grander scale. The Swan River ate away at her own banks until visibility was close to zero and all I could hear amid the swirling water was my mother's laughter.

  I stumbled for shore and home.

  Eleven

  Tony's knocking on the front door startled me out of an uneasy doze. Wishing the encounter with my mother had been a dream and knowing it most certainly wasn't, I quickly pulled on some clothes and ran to meet him on the veranda.

  "Did I wake you?" He grinned. "Dad says the weather's perfect. The other boys say...well, I'd better not repeat it. My sister said I'm as crazy as a galah to go out on the water in this weather, though. Are you coming with me to be crazy, too?"

  I hesitated. "Should I grab something for breakfast?"

  "Nah, Mum packed a proper fishing breakfast for us. Including a thermos flask of fresh coffee, too. After that magnificent dinner you gave me last night, the least I can do is give you breakfast. We'll be back home by lunch, with enough fish to last us until the weather clears up. I hope."

  I pulled the door shut as I left for the second time that night, wondering if Merry heard either click. She'd never asked about my night time excursions, so perhaps not. Or maybe she was just so used to me leaving early for work every morning that she didn't notice any more.

  Squinting out in the darkness, I looked for the hulking arch of the wooden rail bridge – the one Mother had tried to undermine. To my relief, it looked intact. Perhaps she'd given up and started the long swim home, I hoped, knowing she'd do no such thing. No one opposed Mother without paying dearly for it and I'd paid nothing yet. Nor did I intend to.

  "Did you bring the truck, or should I get my bicycle?" I asked.

  Tony's laughter rang out. "Neither. I brought the boat. The Star's tied up at the ferry jetty. Just a short walk and your pleasure-cr
aft awaits." He pointed and I saw the outline of the mast against the roiling river surface. Tony offered his arm and I took it for the brief walk down the road to the dock.

  I leaped aboard and felt the impact of his feet beside me.

  "Oh, look, the dolphins are in the river. There must be good fishing if they're catching fish here." Tony pointed at a gleaming tail breaking the water before slipping beneath the surface.

  My blood ran cold, for my sight was clearer than his. Dolphins weren't blue. Mother was watching. "I'll take the helm," I said quickly, moving toward the tiller.

  Tony seemed surprised. "You want to be the captain of my boat?"

  "Do you trust me to know what I'm doing with your sails?" I countered.

  He mumbled something I didn't catch, finishing up with a shaky laugh, before asking me to help him cast off. We were soon underway, slicing through the waves that came to lick the hull before melting away into the darkness astern. As we tacked, Mother kept pace with us easily. I responded to Tony's instructions with the smooth efficiency of a seasoned sailor, for I was. Usually our pleasure-fishing trips had been in daylight on calm afternoons, though.

  The waves grew stronger and choppier as we rounded South Mole and passed the breakwater that sheltered the fishing boats and the markets from the storm. The north-westerly slammed into us, sending Tony frantically shifting the sails so he could take full advantage of it.

  "Where to?" Tony shouted over the wind. "Running before this gale, we could make Shoalwater and Dad's fishing spot in less than an hour!"