“It’s very kind of you to do all this for my father.”
“I’d do a lot more for him. He’s one of the best. We all loved him, so he must be.”
“Yes, I think he must be.”
“And I’m doing this for myself too.”
It was an emotional farewell between my father and myself. We had stayed up late on the night before the ferry which was to take us to Cato Cato came in.
My father grew very sentimental. He told me how happy my visit had made him, how all through the years he had thought of me. Before he had left home, he had stood by my cot.
“You were a most beautiful child. I could scarcely bear to leave you. Sophie dear Sophie she kept in touch all those years. I was so pleased when you went to her.”
“I think you should have gone back to her,” I told him.
“She would have forgiven you for turning from her in the first place.”
“No. I wasn’t good enough for Sophie. It was better as it was.”
“Perhaps I shall come out and see you some time.”
“With your husband. I should so enjoy that. It is my dearest wish now.”
When the ferry carried us away, he stood on the shore. I knew that in his mind’s eye he would have a picture of the scene. He would visualize my standing there, sad to leave him, yet eager to be going to my lover.
Karia was there beside him. I saw her hand on his, a gesture which told me she would take care of him as long as he needed her. She it was who had written those letters to Sophie since he had been unable to, copying his hand writing because she would understand that he did not want Sophie to know of his infirmity. She had taken care of him in every possible way and she would go on doing so.
Tamarisk was there. She was a little reproachful. She had not wanted me to go.
“Wait a while,” she had said.
“We have not been here so very long.”
I pointed out that we had been away from home for a very long time.
“I can’t go yet, Fred,” she said.
“You understand that.”
“I understand you and you must understand why I have to go.”
She pouted in the old familiar way and I did wonder then how long the island would continue to be of interest to her.
There were others on the shore; the Havers were there with Luke and the boy Jaco. Indeed, most of the children on the island were there.
Of course, they came to see the departure of the ferry boat, but I think the crowds were even more than usual on that day.
A sadness crept over me when the island was no longer visible. I felt that a little part of my life had gone for ever, and when I looked back on that strange interlude it seemed like a dream.
The next day we were at Cato Cato where we spent two nights in the hotel in which I had stayed before.
Sibyl Fraser was a knowledgeable traveller and when we arrived in Sydney she had arranged for us to stay there for a day or so while we awaited the arrival of the Star of the Seas.
Homecoming
The novelty of the voyage out had been a great adventure to Tamarisk and me and therefore a source of interest; now I had seen it all before. Sibyl was a seasoned traveller, well acquainted with shipboard life which, there was no doubt, she enjoyed.
She had travelled with the captain before and knew several of the officers. As she remarked to me, she knew her way around and that was always a help.
We had separate cabins, side by side.
“Starboard side,” Sibyl explained to me.
“Port out, starboard home. Otherwise the heat in the tropics is unbearable.”
She was the best possible companion for me. She would not allow me to brood. She wanted to engage in all the shipboard activities. She played deck games, whist and danced in the evenings; she would take me off on excursions when we were in port and make sure we had attractive male escorts. She was deservedly popular, carried on a few light-hearted flirtations, chattered continuously and was always good-humoured.
When the weather was rough she kept to her cabin and so did I. I would lie on my bed and think about arriving home. I wondered what had happened during my absence. Had anything come to light? There must have been a great deal of speculation when I left Harper’s Green so suddenly after my engagement had been announced.
I would lie listening to the buffeting of the waves and the protesting creaking of the ship, as though she were moaning in agonized protest at what the sea was doing to her.
Then we would pass through the storm to calmer waters.
And so the days went by.
We sailed out of Lisbon our last port of call. I had been out with Sibyl and some friends. We had explored the city, visited the Jeronimos Monastery and the Carmo Church, inspected the Tower of Belem, taken coffee and watched the people passing by, returned to the ship and stood on deck while she sailed out of the bay. Mar de Palha, as we looked back on the hills on either side of the Tagus.
Home was not far away.
The next days sped by. We packed. We were in readiness. The last night had come. Tomorrow in the early hours of the morning we should sail in to Southampton.
There was, as always, a little delay before we were allowed to disembark and the frustrating minutes seemed like hours.
Sibyl had said that we would take the boat train to London and would then go to Harper’s Green. She herself would be staying in London and I told her there would be no need for her to accompany me; but she was insistent. She had told Ronnie that she would take me to my aunt, and that was exactly what she would do.
There was no need for this, as waiting on the dock were Crispin and Aunt Sophie.
Aunt Sophie called my name with glee and Crispin’s face lit up with an indescribable joy. I rushed to them and Crispin reached me first. He lifted me up in his arms. I had never seen him look so happy before.
And there was Aunt Sophie smiling at us.
“You’re home, you’re home, my love!” She was talking incoherently and the tears were on her cheeks; they were tears of joy.
I was aware of Sibyl standing there, beaming and delighted.
This is Mrs. Fraser,” I said.
“She has brought me home. My father asked her to.”
“We know,” said Aunt Sophie.
“We’ve just had a letter from him. We’ve been arranging to kill the fatted calf ever since we knew you were coming. Letters come a little quicker than people, it seems. Oh, it is wonderful to see you!”
Crispin was grasping my arm, pressing it against him. Aunt Sophie had the other.
“I am so glad,” said Sibyl.
“I hope I get a welcome like this from my family.”
Crispin and Aunt Sophie seemed to drag themselves away from their contemplation of me and turned their attention to Sibyl.
I said: “Sibyl has been wonderful. She is such an experienced traveller. She has made everything so easy. She is coming to England to visit her son, you see.”
They thanked her with sincerity and asked what she wished to do. She explained that she wanted to get to London and from there she would go direct to her son.
It was not until we were seated in a tea-room on the station that I heard the great news.
At Paddington we had to wait an hour for the train which would fake us to Wiltshire. Sibyl had been put in a cab and had said her farewells, promising to visit us some time, and while we were waiting for our train we sat down to talk.