‘I don’t understand,’ I found myself saying. ‘She’s at war with the settlers but you women are here of your own free will. With the sealers. Is it war or isn’t it?’

She shrugged and laughed. ‘Survival, honey, any way you do it. Her people, my people, they all been comin up to these islands forever. Lutruwita got its seasons, these islands ere, we call em tayaritja, they got their seasons too. Seals, birds, eggs. So there might be settlers with guns in lutruwita, might be bible men out here in boats, but we be here anyways, without all them lot pushin us around.’

I looked around myself, at the men and women. ‘Were any of these women brought here by force?’

Peacock’s gaze followed mine. ‘One or two. Mmm hmm.’ She looked at me with something approaching pity. ‘You don’t understand it cause you want a simple answer.’ And she shrugged with tired patience.

~

I moved to a smooth boulder under a low part of the roof where I could lean back against the encircling grasses and take in a full view of the gathering. They fascinated me, all of them. The rum was affecting me, I knew, but I would be fine if I could just sit and watch awhile.

It was when I was seated on that rock that Declan Connolly saw me. I knew in an instant that he was drunker than I was. He locked his eyes on me and staggered a little. Instinctively, I looked to my father, who was further away. He was deep in conversation with several of the men.

Connolly was coming towards me now. I looked up at him, as sunny as I could muster. He stopped when he reached me and stood there, staring until I became uncomfortable. He slurred something and I begged his pardon.

‘Yer makin a big mistake wi’ that man,’ he said. I felt like his bulk had closed off the rest of the place.

‘Whatever do you mean?’ I asked. He could not know. Surely he could not know.

‘Said yer makin a mistake.’ He was not smirking or sneering, and looking back at that instant I do not believe he intended to frighten me. ‘Coulda been me.’ He shrugged helplessly. ‘Coulda.’

‘Mister Connolly, you have had too much to drink…’ My consonants were sliding like his.

He leaned forward, his face a grimace in search of the emphasis he wanted. ‘Anyway, thas, that’s nothing. It’s not. All right, fine. But not him.’ He looked around wildly. ‘That doctor isn’ right in the head.’ He pointed at his temple as he said it, then leaned back, watching me for a reaction.

I must have looked stunned. He leaned in again.

‘I’m a goo’ man, Miss Grayling. Fair man. Know I done some things, but I know right an wrong. Three years I’ll have me ticket. But him…’