Stone Of Heaven And Earth

By Noelle Clark

Stone Of Heaven And Earth is an epic tale of love and tragic loss, extravagant expatriate lifestyles, intense danger, heroic acts, and the hideous effects of a cruel and barbaric civil war. Based on author Noelle Clark’s true family history, this work of fiction spans the years 1914 to 1929. A complex and volatile political scene during and after World War 1 forms the backdrop to the intimate story of two intrepid couples, foreigners who embarked on the adventure of a lifetime and made their home in China.

Noelle Clark is best known for her Robinhill Farm series of romance novels set in Ireland, as well as the titles Let Angels Fly and Rosamanti. Her novel Buckley's Chance was a best-seller in the Bindarra Creek series of Australian rural romances.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Noelle Clark
• Release date: Mar 2, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463618103

Noelle Clark

Noelle Clark is an Australian author of contemporary romance novels, rural romance, and historical fiction. Her books weave romance, intrigue, and adventure into colourful and interesting settings. They feature characters who deal with love and loss; and who experience the often difficult facets of life, such as forgiveness and redemption. Noelle lives in a secluded cottage in sunny Queensland, Australia. She has two grown up children and four young grandchildren. When Noelle's not writing and travelling, she enjoys growing her own organic vegetables and herbs, photography, playing guitar, and sketching.

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Praise For Stone Of Heaven And Earth

from

Kate Furnivall

British Historical Novelist, UK Sunday Times Bestseller

A wonderful read. I was swept away by this touching and engrossing story of love and courage. Noelle Clark transports us to China with a fine sense of detail and fascinating period insights, skilfully researched. I was right there in all the dirt and heat. China leaps to life with its vibrant sights, smells and shocking brutality. This was a turbulent period and I was gripped by the struggle of the family to survive within the stifling colonial world they have entered. The characters are drawn together through twists and turns and heart-breaking tragedies, naive at first, but growing in understanding as they explore where the boundaries of love lie. A moving story that totally captivated me.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to the memory of four very brave people who dared to follow their dreams. They travelled far in search of adventure and love. Their legacy has been to inspire their descendants to take chances, to see the world, and to embrace the wonder of new cultures.

Jack Gorman

Anne Gorman nee Houston

Gladys (Darl) Clark nee Houston

Oliver Clark

and to the memory of

Olive Dillon nee Clark

Mary Farley nee Gorman

Mason Clark

Joy Clark

This book is for

Margaret Farley

Michael Farley

Robert Clark

John Dillon

Patricia Searle

Joan Dillon

Noela Dillon

and their families.

For Ann Kreigher and Mary Russian

Also for the descendants of Mary Cross (nee Houston)

And the descendants of all the Houston children.

Foreword

Actual events have provided the bones of this story; fictional events have added the flesh.

I set out to present the memoirs of my Mother—Olive (Clark) Dillon—and my Aunt and Godmother—Mary (Gorman) Farley—in a way that tells the story of four wonderful people who loved deeply, and who knew the heights of happiness and the depths of tragedy. My aim was to fill in the gaps of what I know from firsthand accounts; from stories told to me; and from research. I have written a work of fiction I think would have pleased the main characters had they had the chance to read it.

Noelle Clark

Fiction Author

Acknowledgements

Many people have assisted me in writing this book. Without their help, the last seven years would not have resulted in what I hope is a fitting tribute to the four people who inspired this story.

I would like to acknowledge the assistance provided to me by Professor Robert Bickers, who heads the extensive Bristol University (UK) Chinese Maritime Customs Service study. The service records of Jack and Oliver were made available to me personally by Professor Bickers. For more information, go to robertbickers.net and Bristol University.

According to the Bristol University study, Oliver Clark would have been buried at either Bubbling Well Cemetery, now called Jing’an Park, or at Hungiao Cemetery, now called Soong Qingling Memorial Garden. All the foreign cemeteries were destroyed or relocated during the civil wars and the Cultural Revolution. Although some have been redeveloped since, sadly, according to the records, there is no stone for Oliver Clark.

In 2009, my daughter Robyn and I had the pleasure of spending time in China, exploring the country, soaking up the culture, and tracing—as best we could—the places where our ancestors lived and worked. Visiting China and getting to know the friendly Chinese people allowed me to write about them with warmth, just as my Grandmother—Darl—always spoke of them.

This book is the culmination of many years of work—of research, endless rounds of editing, re-writing, and polishing. My hope is that all who read Stone of Heaven and Earth enjoy learning about life in China for expats during a very turbulent era, and that the story I’ve written about my grandparents does them justice.

Special thanks to: Matt Dale, Robyn Dale, Shehanne Moore, Lorainne Casley, John Dillon, and Kate Furnivall for reading various drafts and providing advice and encouragement.

Thanks to my ‘writing buddies’ who have kept the whip cracking from the very beginning: Kendall Talbot, Anthea Jones, Isabella Hargreaves, and Tania Joyce from YON Beyond Writing Group. Also to Elizabeth Ellen Carter, Susanne Bellamy, and Eva Scott from our Bathing Beauties group.

Finally, huge thanks to Duncan Carling-Rodgers from Business Communications Management for his insight and patience. I doubt this book would have ever been published if not for Duncan’s invaluable assistance.

Noelle Clark—March 2018

PART ONE - 1914 to 1920

Chapter One

Brisbane, Australia - January 1914

Winds of Change

Sisters Anne and Darl Houston sat opposite each other on the packed tram as it rattled its way along Adelaide Street, stopping every now and then to pick up more passengers. Cars, shiny hansom cabs, and cable trams all shared the busy street. People scurried to work, hurrying through a sudden, torrential tropical downpour that pelted the footpath with big, fat drops of warm rain, catching unsuspecting commuters with its unheralded arrival. Anne shook her head and breathed out a loud contemptuous sigh. Why didn’t I bring an umbrella?

Today, of all days.

She frowned as she surveyed the bottom of her long skirt. Already it was wet and muddied from the floor of the tram, where the open sides let in the rain. She wriggled her toes and felt the moisture inside her freshly polished shoes. Bother!

She looked over at Darl who sat calmly with her fingers clasped loosely in her lap, her gaze serene as she looked out at the rain. Anne’s scowl disappeared for a fleeting moment as she watched Darl who seemed oblivious to the bothersome storm, and who was obviously lost in her own thoughts.

Anne watched as Darl, eyes closed, inhaled deeply through her nose. Mmm, I love the smell of rain. It reminds me of home.

Anne raised one eyebrow. Right on cue. Darl said this every time it rained, ever since the sisters had moved to the city from the family sheep station in Central Queensland. In Anne’s opinion, the sharp chemical smell of rain falling didn’t quite have the same allure here in the city. She didn’t like it one bit. Anne shook her head. How uncomplicated Darl is. She’s not in the least concerned her skirt hem is all wet and mucky. Anne frowned again as she inspected their muddied skirts, wondering how she would make herself presentable for her clients.

At last, the tram turned into Albert Street. Their stop was next. She reached up and pulled the bell rope.

Let’s make a run for it, Darl.

As soon as the tram clunked to a stop, they gathered up their skirts, swung off the tram as gracefully as possible, and ran for the cover of the awnings on the busy footpath. They quickly walked the short distance to their building. Anne checked her watch, relieved to see they were on time. She liked to open the agency at eight o’clock sharp. Not a minute early, not a minute late. Punctuality was very important to her, and she insisted on being a good example for her clients.

As they entered the vestibule, she glanced at the sign on the wall. Houston Employment Agency. The sign had cost her a lot, but it never failed to make her stand just a little straighter every time she saw it.

The women entered, and Anne headed to her small office in the back while Darl set about turning on the lights and opening the blinds.

As Anne’s hand clasped the doorknob to her inner office, Darl called out over the din of the heavy rain.

It’s still bucketing down. Hope it stops soon.

Anne turned to see Darl peering out the window and grunted. If not, we’d better buy an umbrella in the lunchbreak.

If we get a lunchbreak, you mean.

Anne pushed open the door and entered her small office. She dropped her wet bag on the desk, removed her hat, and hung it on the bentwood stand in the corner. She reached for the towel she always kept in the cupboard behind her desk and began to dab at her wet skirt. She muttered an irritated grunt as she turned her attention to her shoes and attempted to clean off the mud. Satisfied she had removed most of it, she stood up and glanced in the gilt framed mirror on the wall to check her hair and makeup. Even though now at nearly thirty-nine years of age and officially a spinster, Anne strived hard to epitomise the Gibson Girl look—smart, self-assured, and perfect pompadour hairstyle. Never satisfied that she quite made it to the high standard of a real Gibson Girl, she endeavoured to at least look well groomed. She swept errant wisps of damp hair upwards to the crown of her head and reinserted the tortoiseshell comb. Reassured, she finally settled down to peruse her appointment diary.

Anne was only half way through the list of names in the diary when she heard the familiar whistling sound of the boiling kettle coming from the kitchenette in the back room. It lifted her mood. Within minutes, Darl deposited a cup of hot black tea on her desk. She smiled her thanks at Darl, picked up the steaming cup, and studied the long list of clients she would meet that day.

Going to be a long day. Anne was pleased there had been such a good response to the advertisement Darl had placed in the Brisbane Courier.

Darl nodded. It certainly is. We’ll be lucky to have any break at all. She turned and opened the blind to let the light in, then returned to her desk in the front office.

* * * *

Much later in the day—a day of non-stop clients for her sister to interview—Darl looked up in surprise when a shaft of late afternoon sun shone through the window of her office, casting bright patterns across her desk. She moved to the window and tugged on the string to pull the blind down just enough to stop the glare crossing her desk. The bright sunshine, such a contrast to the dull morning, caused her to squint. She glanced up at the clock on the wall, surprised to see it was already late afternoon.

Goodness, what a busy day! She had ushered a steady stream of hopeful applicants, one at a time, into Anne’s inner sanctum, to be interviewed and assessed for the jobs on offer. In particular, the Entwood Pastoral Company required six new governesses, having just bought out two big stations up near Cloncurry.

The last young lady had been in Anne’s office for half an hour. Another five minutes and it should all be over. Darl stifled a yawn and went to the kitchenette, filled the kettle and settled it on the hob. Throughout the day, she’d taken several cups of tea to Anne, but neither had had much time to take a break. The kettle whistled, and, just as she began to pour the boiling water into the teapot, the bell on the front office door tinkled. Oh bother, who could that be?

She rarely felt disgruntled, but fervently hoped this wasn’t another client wanting to speak with Anne. She poked her head around the kitchenette curtain. A tall man in a dark suit stood before her. Oh no, what’s he selling? The last thing she needed was a pushy salesman. He took off his hat and smoothed his hair with his hand. She set the kettle down and went out.

The man smiled at her—he looked slightly familiar.

Well, aren't you going to offer your old pal Jack a seat?

She stopped dead in her tracks. The familiar voice, that smile...

Jack? She felt her eyes pop. Is that really you?

The man laughed, and she was certain.

Oh, how wonderful to see you! Her excitement was hard to contain. We didn’t know you were back in town! She opened her arms wide and hugged him warmly, then stood back to inspect him.

Shush, woman. Keep it down will ya? He tapped his forefinger on the side of his nose. I don’t want her ladyship to know I’m here yet. I want to surprise her.

Well, you’ll certainly do that!

Darl wondered what exactly her sister’s reaction would be. It had been a long time since Jack Gorman had been in town.

Five months later

Anne and Darl climbed out of a taxi and onto the rough planks of Pinkenba Wharf, followed by their older sister, Mary. Their two brothers, Randall and Tom, had somehow managed to organise for one of their friends—whose father owned a fairly new FN Model tourer—to follow the taxi and bring with them the ample amount of luggage. The brothers retrieved Anne and Darl’s trunks and boxes, and loaded them onto a flat-bed trolley, then the group moved to the shipping company office to complete the necessary paperwork. The boys left the luggage in the care of wharf workers who threw it, none too gently, onto a growing mountain of baggage in readiness for loading onto the ship.

Darl had been to Pinkenba Wharf several times to farewell friends. It was reasonably close to the mouth of the Brisbane River, and, today, a fresh south-easterly breeze fanned the banks making it quite cool. She spotted their ship straight away. It was larger than she thought it would be. It was the Tasman’s first visit to Brisbane, and the newspapers had been full of stories about how luxurious the new vessel was. Darl gazed up at the buff-coloured funnel as it billowed clouds of black smoke into the deep blue sky. At five thousand tons, the Tasman was one of the smallest in the fleet of the KPM Line, but she was also their newest, having just completed her maiden voyage from the shipyards in Hull, England, to Sydney.

Darl let her gaze wander from the ship to the busy wharf. It was alive with people, horses, noise, and colour. Passengers waiting to board stood around awkwardly, anticipating farewells to their loved ones. There was not a cloud in the sky—a typical Brisbane winter’s day—and well-dressed men, their suit coats slung casually over one arm revealing their starched shirtsleeves, milled about. Some wore fedoras, and some—mostly younger ones—sported jaunty straw boaters which seemed to be the latest craze. Most of the women wore long, fashionable full skirts and pretty broderie anglaise bodices with long sleeves. Some had shawls around their shoulders. How sophisticated everyone looked, thought Darl, all dressed to the nines as if seeing off a passenger ship was akin to opening night at the opera.

She stood on the edge of her family group who had come to see them off. Mary held tightly to Anne’s hand and spoke earnestly to her while their two brothers looked slightly awkward all decked out in their Sunday-best clothes. All around them, people hugged, laughing and talking at great speed and volume. From somewhere on the other side of the gathering, a brass band struck up, playing jaunty tunes. Amid peals of laughter from the crowd, she watched as happy couples began to dance on the rough wooden planks of the wharf.

Darl turned and again inspected the ship tethered to the pylons. A fluttery feeling stirred somewhere deep inside her. It would be many weeks before she could examine the ship from this angle again. The Tasman looked to be a fine steamer indeed, sparkling white and sleek. She was glad they had chosen to travel on her.

Excited, Darl?

Her brother’s question brought her smartly back to the present.

That’s a mild understatement, Randall. She turned and looked up at him. He always teased her for being so short, but, lately, she could have sworn he’d grown inches. I always wanted to travel and see the world, but never in my wildest imagination did I ever think I’d be going to China!

Randall chuckled. I don’t think Anne thought this would ever happen either.

Tom leaned forward. Bloody Jack kept her waiting long enough. The least he could do was marry her here in Brisbane. His tone spoke volumes. Tom, always the outspoken one, had told Anne to her face she was a fool to be giving everything up. Arguments galore had filled their home at Red Hill since Anne announced her news. Each time the subject came up, the family chorus chimed in with their tuppence worth, sending Anne off in tears, unable to withstand the battering of words from her brothers.

Mary, always the peacemaker, made the boys apologise to their sister, but only after she’d given them a couple of good clips around the ear.

Randall nodded in the direction of Anne and Mary. So, are you sure you’re ready for this? I mean, I know at first you weren’t keen. You said you’d much rather go to England.

Tom’s eyes narrowed as he squinted at Darl, waiting for her response. Go on, Darl. Admit it. You think it’s a daft idea too, don’t you?

She felt her face flushing. Not now, Tom. Please. It’s all organised. Too late to turn back now.

Tom shook his head, turned on his heel, and disappeared into the crowd.

Don’t mind him, Darl. He’s just jealous. He’d give his right arm to be going with you. Randall’s reassuring hand on her shoulder helped assuage the emotions Tom’s words had brought to the surface. You’ll have a whale of a time.

Darl glanced up into her brother’s handsome face, his hair fiery red in the bright sunlight. She threaded her arms around his waist and hugged him tightly.

Randall’s chuckle vibrated through his shirt. You might even score yourself a husband while you’re over there in China.

Darl couldn’t help but laugh. She pushed him back from her. And why on earth would I want to do that? I’m a modern woman. I don’t feel the pressure of society to get married and produce a family. She paused, the words she’d been trying to find for five months finally tumbling out of her. I want to travel, Randall. See the world. Maybe learn a few foreign languages. True, I was against Anne rushing off like an adolescent to a man who, frankly, hasn’t treated her all that well. But now it’s happening—now I’ve burned all my bridges, I’m rather excited.

Randall shuffled from one foot to the other. Darl….

She stared up into his blue eyes. What?

The young man sucked in a deep breath. You haven’t permanently burned your bridges…you can always come back home. I promise you that. Even if I’m married and have a family of my own, I’ll always give you a home—

She took his hand and squeezed it, then pulled her brother close again.

Thanks, Randall.

Only two people knew the real reason she was leaving her life in Brisbane and joining Anne in China. It was a request from Mary—tearful, heartfelt, and earnest—that made her agree. Mary said Anne needed her, that although she’d be married to Jack, she would be lonely and bereft without her close family, and, if their marriage had any chance of succeeding, Darl needed to go to China too.

How strange life is, Darl mused. When Anne had first asked her to accompany her on the trip, she’d thought it was just for the duration of the sea voyage. That sounded quite exciting. But, as it dawned on her Anne was talking about forever—well, that was quite a different story. It wasn’t until the agency was sold to Miss Rowe she realised there would be no coming back. Not for Anne, anyway. And Darl’s job, her great joy—was no more. She had no employment to come back to.

It had taken a lot of soul-searching and huge effort to look positively at the proposition Anne had made. The sisters had argued, but not as vociferously as their brothers. At first, Darl insisted she would come back to Brisbane soon after delivering her sister safely to Shanghai and seeing her wed to Jack. Perhaps she would take in the sights, maybe visit some other parts of China, but she was definitely not staying there forever.

Anne had been unmovable, however. She wanted Darl as her companion. Forever.

She recalled Anne’s words. I…I don’t think I can go through with this if you are not there.

That was it. She had capitulated. The combination of Mary’s request and Anne’s heartfelt appeal had finally won.

Anne had waited so very long for Jack to claim her as his wife—too long in Darl’s opinion—and now she had one chance at happiness. One chance. Anne was already heading for middle age. She had sold her beloved agency. There was only Jack.

Darl knew what she had to do. She had to go. She loved Anne and would not spoil this chance for her sister to be happy. But forever was a long time. Maybe too long. She glanced up at the blue Brisbane sky. I’ll be back. One day.

Randall disentangled himself from her embrace and went after Tom. Soon, she couldn’t see him through all the people.

She swallowed and took a deep breath. This was not the time for sentimental revelations. Her life was about to change forever. She clung tightly to that thought as she turned her attention once more to the festivities on the wharf and took in the colourful scene. Suddenly, a flurry of movement caught her eye. She turned and spied a quartet of giggling young women pushing their way through the crowd towards her, waving and shouting.

Darl! Darl!

Her introspective mood lifted, and she smiled as her friends called out her name.

Amy! May! She embraced each one in turn. Kath! Irene! How lovely of you to come and see me off. She would miss them dearly.

The girls all talked at once, jumping up and down with excitement, overwhelming her.

We’ve been planning this ever since you told us you were leaving, said Kath. We had to organise time off work to be here.

She couldn’t help but grin at her friends. Their excitement was infectious, and, for a few minutes, she forgot about the butterflies in her stomach. Amy gave her a bouquet of wattle, its delicate golden blooms gleaming brightly in the sunshine. Irene handed her a bottle of sherry wrapped up in cellophane paper and tied with a ribbon at the top. The other friends gave gifts neatly wrapped in colourful paper. For a few minutes, she was lost for words. She carefully placed their gifts in her handbag and clutched the bouquet of wattle while the girls did all the talking, giving her a moment to catch her breath.

They huddled around her, chatting excitedly about the ship, the voyage, and about her new life in a very foreign land. It was all suddenly very surreal. This is really happening! She listened to them with only half an ear, feeling slightly disembodied from the noisy crowd on the wharf, and felt like she was in a dream, both thrilled and nervous at the same time.

Across the heads of her friends, she noticed Anne and Mary still deep in conversation. Randall and Tom stood a few feet away, puffing plumes of blue cigarette smoke into the air, and looking with interest at the bustling activity on the wharf, but in particular at young ladies who seemed to enjoy their attention. It seemed as though Tom was going to behave himself and not upset Anne. She hoped so at least.

She chewed on her bottom lip, recalling Randall’s announcement a few days ago. He’d looked so manly as his eyes flashed with what could only be described as the thrill of the hunt. Darl had listened with growing dread as Randall told his sisters he had enlisted in the army. Only that morning she’d heard on the wireless how things were escalating in Europe. She hoped fervently the hostilities there wouldn’t become an all-out war. Their older brother, Charles, who was in the Light Horse Regiment, had left Brisbane on the ship Omrah only last week. It had been inevitable he would enlist. He was a good horseman, and he’d been waiting for the call up to enlist for months. She remembered his exuberance at the chance to use his skills in France. Her heart ached. And now Randall is going too.

She turned her focus back to her girlfriends, hugged each of them and whispered a final farewell with a promise to write often. It was impossible to be sad with such a happy bevy of friends surrounding her.

With a last cheerio, she left her friends, took a deep breath, and pushed her way through the crowd until she stood next to her brothers. She could put it off no longer. Time to say goodbye. She reached out and wrapped an arm around Tom’s waist, then the other around Randall. They were so much taller than her that her face only came up to their shirt fronts. She squeezed them hard and felt their strong arms return her hugs.

Tom’s face dropped close to her ear. Sorry, Darl.

She turned and planted a kiss on his cheek. I know.

She summoned all her courage.

She hated goodbyes, and, although she found it hard to say much, she made sure her embrace was warm and strong. The boys were men of very few words at the best of times.

Look after yourselves, boys. They both bent and kissed her on the cheek.

Truth is, Darl, Tom seemed back to his usual self, I’m as envious as all hell. Fancy sailing all the way to the Far East in this lovely ship.

Well, maybe you should save up a fare and come and visit us next year.

Tom’s face lit up. It was as though he hadn’t even contemplated such a thing.

She turned to Randall. Well it sounds like you’ll be making a long voyage yourself soon, Randall. She raised her head and caught his gaze. You look after yourself now.

He bent down and kissed the top of her head. I will, sis. I promise.

Don’t forget to write.

I won’t. Promise.

She smiled. Randall’s promise would most likely come to nothing. She knew how much he hated writing letters.

Soon, the moment she’d been dreading arrived—saying goodbye to Mary. Darl’s heart began to thump quickly as she moved across to Mary and faced her. There was so much she wanted say, yet no words came. The sting of tears burned the back of her eyes, and she struggled to keep from bawling.

Without a word, Mary wrapped her in a warm hug, and Darl shrunk into the arms of her older sister, inhaling the scent of her lavender perfume for probably the last time. Like a drowning person, a lifetime of memories and pictures ran across her mind. She recalled Mary holding her hand as she walked her to school on her very first day; vividly remembered Mary reading to her every night before saying prayers, then kissing her on the forehead before turning out the light.

She gulped noisily as a sob caught in her throat. She remembered Mary telling her, when she was quite young, how their mother died only days after she’d been born. Mary promised her way back then, over twenty years ago, that she’d look after her forever. Visions of Mary, tired from cooking and cleaning for their father and the five siblings, were clear in her memory. Mary had always looked like a woman when she was really still a girl herself. And, when their father died only weeks after Darl had started school, it was Mary who looked after them all.

Her strong arms tightened around her. It’s alright, Darl. Mary’s voice was tender, her embrace comforting. Remember what I told you. Winter in China is harsh. Promise you’ll wear the coat I gave you?

She nodded and felt her sister take a deep breath. Mary’s voice, emotional and soft, whispered into her ear. Make sure you write to me often. Tell me all the news.

She pulled back and gazed into the eyes of her dear sister. I promise. She wiped away tears with the back of her hand.

Righto, off you go. I want to say goodbye to Anne now. Mary kissed her on the forehead. Take all my love with you.

With one last hug, she let Mary go, and looked about for her friends. They were still excitedly watching all that was happening on the wharf. She took a fresh handkerchief from her handbag, wiped her eyes, and blew her nose.

Following the gaze of her friends, she watched as pulleys and winches swung overhead, depositing big rope baskets of provisions and stores onto the foredeck. Horses pulled carts loaded with boxes and supplies along the wooden wharf. Porters sweated as they pushed trolleys of luggage and tin travel trunks up the narrow gangplank onto the ship. Suddenly, a flash of yellow caught her eye, and she was surprised to see her distinctive brown trunk being carried up the gangway by a swarthy porter, every step causing the plank to bow and bounce. As Mary had advised, she had tied a big yellow ribbon to each of the handles of the trunk so it would be easy to spot.

Seeing her luggage going aboard brought her to the reality of what she was about to do. Although she was nervous and immensely sad to leave Mary, she now looked forward to this adventure which had come quite out of the blue and was about to sweep her into a whole new life.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Anne hugging Mary tightly. Her heart lurched. Both sisters seemed unable to let go, almost as if they were afraid to break the bond. She saw Mary whispering into Anne’s ear, her expression sad, and Anne nodding her head silently. Her sisters threaded arms, and they both pushed through the crowd, closer to where she stood.

Righto, off you go now, Anne. Look after Darl, and give that cheeky Jack a big hug for me when you get there. Mary cleared her throat. Goodbye, dear girls. Safe travel.

Darl watched anxiously as Anne, holding tightly to Mary’s hands, said nothing. Her cheeks were wet, and her lips quivered. Anne nodded and let go of Mary just as the big funnel of the Tasman let out three loud blasts of its horn.

All aboard! All aboard!

Pandemonium broke out. The milling, excited crowd separated and a line of people started working their way up the gangway while waving family and friends remained on the wharf. Last hugs; long, lingering kisses from lovers; business-like handshakes; shouts of bon voyage; tears and laughter. The brass band on the wharf struck up Alexander’s Ragtime Band. Darl and Anne, caught up in the throng, found themselves giving last minute hugs and sharing precious words with their family and friends. Goodbye, good luck. Safe travel!

Come on. Let’s go! Darl grabbed Anne’s hand and together they moved up the gangway just as colourful paper streamers began raining from the ship, falling to the crowd below who eagerly caught them. When they reached the deck, they took up position at the rail where they could see their family and friends. A friendly crewman gave them some streamers, which they threw down as hard as they could, making sure they had a tight hold of one end. Randall caught one from Anne and handed it to Mary. Relieved, Darl noted both Anne’s and Mary’s faces break out into broad grins.

Excitement and relief replaced the tenseness of the goodbyes, and, laughing, they began throwing two streamers at a time as the ship edged away from the wharf and out into the river.

Tugs eased the Tasman downstream. By now, there were so many paper streamers it was hard to make out the faces in the crowd on the wharf. The streamers stretched and broke, falling into the river below and floating there like hyacinths on a lake. The sound from the brass band slowly became quieter as the ship moved away from the wharf. The sisters remained at the deck rail until they could no longer see the specks of people on the wharf. Slowly and determinedly, the ship slid downstream until it eventually reached the mouth of the river and moved out into Moreton Bay. They turned to look at each other. Anne’s eyes were bright and shiny.

Are you all right? Anne grabbed her hand and held it tight.

She cleared her throat. Right as rain.

Come on. Let’s go and find a sherry. I think we should propose a toast. I’m on my way to be married! Anne’s grin widened, and she sniffed deeply, then gave her nose one last wipe. How do I look, Darl?

Like a bride to be. They hugged and let out peals of girlish giggles.

Linking arms, they walked along the deck until the sound of gaiety and laughter rolling out an open door drew them like bees to a honey pot. Other passengers were already sitting at small round tables in the dark panelled parlour. Smartly uniformed waiters walked around with silver trays of crystal sherry glasses. They took one each, toasted each other, and smiled.

"Bon voyage!"

Chapter Two

Halcyon days and turbulent nights

The first week passed slowly aboard the Tasman. Wearing broad-brimmed hats to shade their faces from the harsh tropical sun, Anne and Darl strolled languidly around the promenade deck as the ship steamed up the North Queensland coast. Days at sea had given them both a healthy glow. One afternoon, as they neared the aft games area, they saw a group of people about to play deck shuttle.

Ahoy, you two! They recognised the smiling, tanned face of Timothy, calling out and waving to them. We need two more players to make a team, ladies versus gentlemen. Come on.

They were quick to take up the offer. Over the last few days, they had made friends with Timothy