‘He is indeed. And a very talented artist too. Francis has followed Namatjira about like a puppy ever since he could toddle,’ Drummond said.
Kitty dragged her eyes away from Francis and glanced down at the woman in the wheelchair. The woman looked up at her and Kitty had to grasp the back of the pew to steady herself. Even though the woman was desperately thin, her skin streaked with lines of age, Kitty knew the face as well as her own.
‘Good grief, it can’t be!’ she whispered to Drummond. Then she looked at the old man who had pushed the wheelchair in. ‘And that’s Fred!’
‘It is,’ he agreed, ‘but Camira is why I have brought you here. She doesn’t have much time left. Go and say hello.’
‘Camira?’ Kitty walked towards her, her legs trembling. ‘Is it really you?’
‘Missus Kitty?’ Camira whispered back, equally startled. Fred gawped at her from behind the wheelchair.
‘Now, Francis, this is Sarah,’ said Drummond, watching emotion cross both women’s features. ‘She has a passion for horses – would you take her and give her a riding lesson?’
‘Of course, Mister D.’ Francis spoke halting English, but his expression as he beckoned Sarah to follow him told everyone how much of a pleasure it would be.
‘Mr D and I have some business to conduct,’ Pastor Albrecht said. ‘Fred, why don’t you join us? We shall leave you two ladies alone.’
Once the men had gone, Kitty bent down and put her arms tenderly around her dearest friend.
‘Where did you go? I missed you so terribly, I . . .’
‘I missum you too, Missus Kitty, but things happen, don’t they?’
Kitty released the emaciated body and took Camira’s hand. ‘What “things” happened?’
‘First you tellum me how you here. Mister Drum come-a find you?’
‘No, it seems I found him. Or we found each other.’
Kitty explained how they’d met as swiftly as she could, desperate to know why Camira had left her all those years ago.
‘See? Dem up in heaven wantum you two together.’
‘It’s not like that. I leave permanently for Europe very soon,’ Kitty said hurriedly. ‘And no one must know the truth, Camira.’
‘Who here would I tellum?’ Camira gave a hoarse laugh. ‘Whattum Mister Drum say to you?’
‘Absolutely nothing – not even that you were here. Please, dearest Camira, tell me why you and Alkina left.’
‘Okay, but it longa story, Missus Kitty, so you sittum down and I tella to you.’
Kitty did so. Between halting pauses for breath, Kitty learnt the truth of her son’s relationship with Camira’s daughter.
‘God, oh God.’ She buried her face in her hands. ‘Why on earth did they not come to me? I would have sanctioned their marriage.’
‘Yessum, but my daughter, she-a strong-willed woman. She not wanta live in whitefella world an’ be treated like mangy dingo from street.’ Camira sighed. ‘She love Charlie, Missus Kitty, so much she leavem him. You understand?’
‘I do, of course I do, but I could have announced their engagement and the whole town would have seen they had my backing.’
There was a pause as Camira’s eyes found the painting of Jesus at the front of the church. ‘Missus Kitty, there something else that madem her run.’
‘What?’
Camira’s expressive eyes begged Kitty to think, to say the words for her.
‘No! You mean she was pregnant?’
‘Yessum. Four months when she go walkabout.’
‘Did Charlie know?’
‘Yessum, he know. He wanta go find her, beggum me to tell him where she go, but I do not know. After you went away to Europe, he feel he cannot leave. One night, I knowum she dead. Charlie and me, we cry together.’
‘Oh God, where did she die?’
‘Out there, in Never Never.’ Camira rested her head on Kitty’s arm. ‘Love, it causem the big trouble. Mister Drum, he come all the way to Broome to see me an’ tell me ’bout it. An’ I go with him here. Den Fred turnem up few month later.’ Camira rolled her eyes. ‘I smellum him before I see him.’
‘But if Alkina died, then why . . .’
‘She die, yessum, but baby alive. Mister Drum, he find baby with Ghan camel men, an’ bring him to Hermannsburg. He savem baby’s life. He a miracle man.’ Camira nodded vehemently. ‘Ancestors helpum him find my grandson.’
Kitty’s head was spinning with what Camira was telling her. There were so many questions she wanted answers to, she hardly knew what to ask next.
‘But how did he know the baby was Alkina’s?’
‘Thattum bad pearl. My daughter once see me check that it still buried where I leave it. She takem it to sell for money for her and baby. Mister Drum, he see bad pearl with baby and baby’s eyes. Dey like his mum’s. He comun see me an’ bringum me here to care for baby.’
‘So you didn’t tell Charlie that he was a father?’ Kitty tried to control the anger rising inside her. ‘That my son’s baby was alive? Good God, Camira, why did you not tell me?!’
‘Maybe I makem mistake, but Charlie friend with Elise, an’ I thinkum best he not know. He running big business, an’ my daughter dead. How could he bringum up baby? You away in Europe. Yessum I hear later Charlie die too. So sad, but now they up there together with Ancestors. So, everything turnum out for best, yes?’
Camira’s eyes begged Kitty to agree, but she stood up and began to pace up and down the narrow aisle of the chapel. ‘I really don’t know just now, Camira. I feel as though I wasn’t given any choice in the matter. I feel . . .’ Kitty wrung her hands. ‘Totally deceived.’
‘Missus Kitty, we all lovem you, we wanta do best thing.’
‘How many wrong decisions come out of love . . .’ Kitty sighed. As she did her best to control herself in front of a woman she loved and who, from her obvious frailty, was facing her last few weeks on earth, another thought came to her.
‘What happened to the baby?’ she asked, bracing herself for more bad news.
Camira’s features finally gathered themselves into a wide smile. ‘He sick as baby, but now he big, strong boy. I do-um best to bring him up good for both of us.’ She chuckled then. ‘Missus Kitty, you just met our grandson. His name Francis.’
*
Drummond watched Kitty pushing Camira’s wheelchair towards the stables, uncertain how she would have reacted to the news. He turned his head at the shrieks of laughter emanating from Sarah as she did her best to steer the reluctant horse round in a circle, with Francis holding the end of the rope below her.
‘He keeps wanting to go straight ahead! Can we, please?’
‘Only if I climb up with you,’ Francis called to her.
With the past and the present about to collide, Drummond pondered on whether Sarah’s words were an apt metaphor. So many humans wandered round in circles, wishing for a future they were too fearful to seize.
‘Come on then! Jump aboard!’ Sarah shouted.
Francis released the rope and swung his long body onto the horse behind her.
If nothing else, he knew those two would seize it.