Pearls Read Online Free PDF Page A

iodine and gave him a little malt whiskey for the pain. He then pained him even more by charging him for it. Halloran made a half-hearted attempt to re-set Flynn's nose which had buckled slightly after making contact with the billiards hall floor. He swathed it in plaster and sent Flynn home.
    Flynn staggered up the white shell path, his shirt in tatters and caked with dried blood. Kate sat on a wicker chair on the veranda watching him.
    'Patrick Flynn, what have you been doing to yourself?'
    'Hush now, girl. It's nothing.' He staggered slightly and clutched at a frangipani tree for support.
    'You've been drinking again.'
    'Now, now, girl, don't lecture me, I'm your father.'
    'You're a disgrace.'
    Kate stood up and went inside, slamming the front door. Muttering to himself, Flynn successfully negotiated the three steps to the porch and tried to follow her inside.
    Locked.
    'Kathleen,' he honked through his damaged nose, 'will you kindly open this door!'
    'You promised me you would not get yourself in this state anymore.'
    'I only drink for medicinal purposes!'
    Flynn heard windows being slammed shut. He staggered around the veranda to the back. Locked too! The wilful little bitch.
    His bedroom window! Weaving, Flynn negotiated his way around the bungalow, put one leg on the sill and tried to ease himself inside. Instead he toppled sideways and fell into an oleander bush.
    He sat up. 'You're just like your mother you stubborn little bitch!' he shouted.
    He looked up and saw the Niland family passing in their sulky. Holy Mary. He attempted a wave. 'Good afternoon, Henry,' he said.
    A clean shirt fluttered out of his bedroom window and landed on the steps. 'Put that on and don't come back in here until you're sober, you old soak!'
    The bedroom window slammed behind him.
    The Nilands did not wave back.
     
     

Chapter 7
     
    Broome's native and European settlements were clustered on either side of a headland known as Buccaneer Rock. On one side of the town the tin and asbestos buildings of Chinatown huddled between the mile-long jetty and the mangrove swamps. On the other, the pearler's palm-shaded bungalows sprawled in fragrant gardens along wide shell-grit streets.
    The Niland bungalow was surrounded by sweeping verandas wreathed in purple bougainvillea. The garden was heady with the scent of mock orange blossom and frangipani. Trestle tables had been laid out and white-jacketed Malay stewards served iced champagne and claret-cup. There was the sound of too-eager laughter from the tennis courts and the croquet lawn.
    George came towards Cameron, hand outstretched. He was wearing a Tussore jacket and trousers, white linen shirt and soft collar. He wore an MCC tie with a pearl tie pin.
    'Cam. Good of you to come. You've had a shave!'
    'Aye, the beard comes off when I'm on dry land. Look at this place! It's a bonny house, George.'
    'Not mine I'm afraid. Will be one day.'
    'You've put on a spread.'
    'Yes, not quite the green fields of England, but it's home for now. You look quite the white master yourself.'
    'Just a new suit and a bath, George. I nearly wore my auld Navy uniform but people sometimes mistake me for an admiral.'
    George's nose wrinkled in another of his ingratiating smiles. 'Help yourself to a drink. Excuse me a moment. I must go and say hello to the Barringtons. He's our banker. Duty calls.'
    Cam watched him go. The perfect host. By God, it was like a little bit of England transplanted here among the sweating palms and the red dust. He allowed a steward to pour him champagne. 'No opium in this, is there?'
    'Master?' the man said.
    'It does nae matter.'
    Cameron looked around. The guests at the garden party were all white Europeans. Even though it was late afternoon it was close to a hundred degrees; the men were sweating in tropical whites, the women in long gowns, with parasols to keep off the sun.
    It was then he saw her. She was standing alone, at the end of the veranda, watching the croquet game, all green