Pearls by Colin Falconer Read Free Book Online Page B

house b'long her.'
    Kate grabbed the other woman's wrist. Liddy was a recent convert of the local Catholic missionary and the young Bandi girl had since dedicated her life to the hunting down of sin of every kind. 'Liddy, you are not to mention this to anyone, do you hear?'
    Liddy shook her head. 'I doan know about that one. All same sin, all same work b'long debil-debil!'
    Kate grabbed her by the arm and shook her finger at her. 'You breathe a word of this to anyone and I send you to a hot place b'long debil-debil, you hear?'
    Liddy was not impressed. She crossed herself and went into the kitchen. Kate heard the dishes crashing into the sink. She slapped her hand petulantly on the arm of her chair and went outside.
    The Wet was coming. Ominous black clouds were gathering on the horizon and lightning flashed across the sky like distant shellfire. There were no stars and the clouds seemed close enough to touch. Kate leaned on the veranda rail to wait.
     
    ***
     
    Tom Ellies would only work on a pearl after he had examined it in the soft light of early morning. Only then were its secrets, the hidden ridges and whorls, clearly visible. He turned the stone slowly between his index finger and thumb and gave a soft sigh which could have meant anything.
    Flynn twitched, like a wild horse. 'What?' he said, leaning towards Ellies. 'What?'
    Ellies cautioned him to silence with an impatient movement of his hand. George patted Flynn re-assuringly on the arm. 'Let the man do his job Patrick.'
    Ellies dropped the pearl onto a piece of black velvet. He rolled it with his finger to test its shape. If it rolled evenly it meant it was a perfect round, the best and most valued kind.
    Finally Ellies removed the glass from his eye. 'You have the luck,' he announced. 'Perhaps.'
    'Perhaps?' Flynn said. His hands were shaking and his breath smelled of the gin he had drunk that morning to fortify himself for the ordeal of the cleaning.
    'Perhaps. Sometimes a pearl has a flaw. Sometimes the flaw goes to the heart and there is nothing to be done about it. You cannot destroy the flaw without destroying the pearl. Like with a man.'
    Damned philosophy now! He could strangle him. He just wanted to know how much the damned pearl was worth.
    Ellies went to work with the simple tool that was his stock in trade; a three cornered file with one end stuck in a champagne cork. Flynn and George Niland watched him, hardly daring to breathe, as the first bright shreds of pearl skin fell to the table.
     
    ***
     
    Ellies straightened with a sigh, and rubbed the pearl with a silk handkerchief that he had produced from his pocket.
    'Well?' Flynn said.
    Ellies laid the stone on the table. 'You have the good luck,' Tom said, 'the very good luck.' He considered a moment. 'Five thousand pounds.'
    Flynn sagged in his chair as if he had been shoot. George licked his lips, like a dog with his eyes on a meat scrap.
    'What would I get in Europe?' he asked.
    'Perhaps twice this amount. More. Who knows? For such a stone a man might pay anything.'
    George was suddenly the businessman once more. He picked up the brown leather briefcase at his feet and took out his chequebook. 'Thank you very much, Mister Ellies. I believe you have earned your commission today.'
     
    ***
     
    George closed the door of his office and went to the metal safe in the corner. When ''The Queen of the North' was safely locked away he went to the drinks cabinet and took out a bottle of square face gin. 'A little early in the day but I think a celebration is called for,' he said.
    He put two glasses on his desk and poured a healthy measure of gin in each. 'A toast. To 'The Queen of the North'.'
    ' 'The Queen of the North',' Flynn repeated, and drained the glass. He held it out for another measure.
    George took out his chequebook and fountain pen. 'Five thousand pounds less Mister Ellies commission ... that's four thousand, seven hundred and fifty pounds.' He tore the cheque from the book and slid it across