Free The Forgotten Pearl by Belinda Murrell Page A

disappeared around the corner.
    â€˜Let’s go and check the Murata house,’ suggested Poppy. ‘Maybe someone’s there. Maybe we can find out what’s going on.’
    Maude nodded in agreement. The girls ran the few blocks to the Murata’s house, which was back near the pearling fleet anchorage. It was ominously quiet. The verandah floorboards creaked as they tiptoed up the stairs. The front door stood wide open.
    â€˜Mrs Murata?’ called Maude, poking her head aroundthe doorjamb.
    â€˜Murata-san?’ called Poppy. ‘Is anybody home?’
    There was nothing but silence. Poppy slipped off her shoes and stepped inside the living room. Everything looked much like it had the day the girls had come to tea and dressed as Japanese princesses, except that one of Mrs Murata’s precious teacups had smashed on the floor. On the table stood the other cups and the teapot. Poppy felt the pot; it was still warm.
    â€˜Murata-san?’ called Poppy again, knocking on the door to the other room. There was obviously no one there, but there were signs of hurried packing – clothes spilling out of a chest, a basket overturned, papers dropped on the floor.
    â€˜Let’s go, Poppy,’ suggested Maude. ‘There’s no one here. George must have been right; they’ve all been taken away.’
    Poppy smeared a hand across her stinging eyes. She turned and headed out the front door. Then she paused and ran back, picking up the teapot and the remaining cups, cradling them carefully in her hands.
    â€˜It belonged to Mrs Murata’s great-grandmother and is very valuable to her,’ explained Poppy. ‘I’ll keep it safe for her until she comes back.’
    Maude looked around the house at all the other belongings that the Muratas had to leave behind. She carefully closed and locked the front door.

    That evening, Mark arrived home late from the hospital.Cecilia and the two girls were gathered in the sitting room, knitting squares to make rugs for soldiers, nervously listening to the radio for fresh news. Their cups of tea sat cold and forgotten on the side table. As Mark entered the room, Cecilia shushed him with her hand.
    Prime Minister Curtin was making a broadcast to the nation: ‘Men and women of Australia, we are at war with Japan . . . The leaders in Tokyo have ignored the convention of a formal declaration of war and struck like an assassin in the night.’ The Prime Minister’s voice boomed out ominously into the room.
    Poppy twisted her pearl teardrop between her fingers. Bryony chewed on the quick of a fingernail.
    â€˜These wanton killings will be followed by attacks on the Netherlands, East Indies, on the Commonwealth of Australia, on the dominion of New Zealand, if Japan can get its brutal way . . .’
    Mark sat down in his armchair, his hands over his eyes. Cecilia sat with her legs crossed, jiggling her foot.
    â€˜Each must take his or her place in the service of the nation, for the nation itself is in peril.’
    Australia is in peril, Poppy thought. We are in peril.
    â€˜This is our darkest hour.’
    Mark jumped up and turned off the radio with a deep sigh.
    â€˜In the last few hours, Japan has attacked Malaya, Thailand, the Philippines, Singapore, Hong Kong, Guam and Hawaii,’ Cecilia informed him, her voice shaking. ‘In Pearl Harbor alone, more than two thousand people have been killed.’
    Bryony held Coco the cat on her lap. Poppy huddledinto the sofa next to her sister, her arms crossed as though she was cold, despite the heat of the summer air. Honey sat at Poppy’s feet, whimpering, sensing the stress in the air. Mark nodded.
    â€˜Sorry I’m late, darling,’ he apologised to his wife. ‘I’ve been in meetings all afternoon, discussing ways to protect the hospital and how to evacuate it in case of emergency. The hospital is in a dangerous position so close to the