The Forgotten Pearl Read Online Free PDF Page A

girl.’
    Mrs Murata smiled lovingly at the girl, stroking the fringe out of her eyes.
    â€˜The pearl is a magic jewel of good luck to the Japanese,’ explained Mrs Murata. ‘It was the pearls and the pearl shell that brought us to your country. My family have been pearl divers for generations – first in Japan, now in Darwin. My father came to Australia in 1880, and I was born in Broome. Pearls have been good to us.’
    Mrs Murata bent down to pick up her load of washing.
    â€˜Can I help you?’ asked Poppy,
    â€˜ Arigato , Miss Poppy,’ replied Mrs Murata. ‘It’s heavy.’
    Poppy took one handle, and together the two carried the basket of washing towards the house, with young Shinju following.
    â€˜How are your family, Mrs Murata?’ asked Poppy. ‘Is your son feeling better?’
    â€˜Yes.’ Mrs Murata’s face beamed. ‘Your father is a clever doctor.’
    Several weeks before, Poppy had been with her father when he had been called to the Murata’s house to treat Mrs Murata’s son. The pearl diver had contracted a severe chest infection while out at sea and had been critically ill by the time the pearl lugger had returned to port. Poppy’s father had treated Mr Murata and saved his life.
    Mrs Murata delivered the linen basket to Daisy in the kitchen and bowed goodbye to Poppy.
    â€˜ Sayonara , Miss Poppy.’
    Poppy returned the salutation and then raided the breadbox, taking a heel of stale bread and stuffing it in her pocket.
    â€˜Here’s your picnic lunch, Miss Poppy,’ said Daisy. ‘I made enough to keep even you from being hungry – beef and tomato sandwiches, lemon cake and paw-paw.’
    Poppy gave Daisy a quick hug. ‘Thanks, Daisy. You’re wonderful.’
    Poppy picked up a laden picnic basket from the table and ran next door to collect Maude. From the kitchen doorway, she was watched by the little girl Shinju.

    â€˜Have you got your bathers on?’ Poppy asked Maude. ‘Daisy has packed us a picnic to have down at Kahlin Bay. I can’t wait to go swimming – it’s so hot.’
    â€˜There aren’t any crocodiles at Kahlin Bay, are there?’ asked Maude, jumping down the steps with her towel over her shoulder.
    â€˜No, you silly,’ replied Poppy, ‘but there are lots of fish. I’ve brought some stale bread so we can feed them. The mullet and catfish take the bread straight from your fingers.’
    The girls ran along the rutted track, between the palm trees, down to the bay.
    The track suddenly opened out, revealing a stunning vista over the turquoise sea south-west towards Darwin port.
    â€˜Wow,’ said Maude, ‘it’s gorgeous.’
    â€˜It’s gorgeous now at high tide, but at low tide the water drops about twenty feet so you can walk out on the mud-flats for miles. It’s good then for mud-crabbingand gathering oysters, but you have to be careful because the tide rushes in again super-fast, which can be really dangerous if you’re not watching.’
    Maude shaded her eyes and looked to the north.
    â€˜Race you in!’ challenged Poppy.
    Dropping the picnic basket and towel on the sand, Poppy dragged her dress over her head, kicked off her shoes and sprinted to the water. Maude was only seconds behind, squealing in delight.
    The water was cool and silky against their skin, washing away the clinging fug of the tropical heat.
    Maude was an excellent swimmer and struck out for the deeper water. Poppy gave chase, grabbing Maude by the ankle. Maude tried to kick free but Poppy was too strong. The two girls paused momentarily, treading water and laughing.
    â€˜Where did you learn to swim like that?’ asked Poppy, releasing Maude’s ankle. ‘I thought you were a city slicker!’
    Maude floated on her back, lapped by the gentle swell, closing her eyes to the sun.
    â€˜In Sydney, we live right near the beach at