‘I am sure he is not,’ said Kitty, wondering why she was defending her brother-in-law. She had neither seen him nor heard a word from him in nigh on five years – not even a telegram to congratulate the two of them on the birth of Charlie.
This, however, did not stop her from remembering how he’d kissed her that New Year’s Eve, especially as marital relations with her husband had dwindled considerably. Often, Andrew would retire before she did, and when she arrived in the bedroom he was already fast asleep, exhausted from the stress of the day. Since Charlie’s birth almost four years ago, Kitty could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he’d reached for her and they’d made love.
The lack of a second child had been duly commented on by the gossipy circle of pearling masters’ wives. Kitty replied that she was enjoying Charlie far too much to put herself through another pregnancy, and besides, she was still young. The truth was that she longed for another baby; yearned for the big family that she herself had been brought up in. And also, if she was honest, the loving touch of a man . . .
‘You are absolutely set on staying here rather than going to Alicia Hall?’ Andrew was asking her as Camira cleared the dinner plates from the table.
‘For the last time, darling, yes.’
‘Then I will confirm the trip with Father. And I promise you, Kitty, that next year I will take you and Charlie back to visit your family.’ Andrew rose and patted his wife’s shoulder.
*
On the deck of the Koombana a month later, guilt and regret filled Andrew’s eyes as he embraced his wife and child.
‘Auf wiedersehen, mein Kleiner. Pass auf deine Mutter auf, ja?’ Andrew set Charlie down as the Koombana’s bell rang out to warn all non-passengers to leave the ship.
‘Goodbye, Kitty. I’ll send a telegram when we reach Fremantle. And I promise to arrive home with something extraordinary for you.’ He winked at her then tapped his nose, as Kitty swept Charlie up into her arms.
‘Take care of yourself, Andrew. Now, Charlie, say goodbye to your father.’
‘Auf wiedersehen, Papa,’ Charlie chirped. On Andrew’s insistence, he had been spoken to in both English and German and switched between the two languages with ease.
After walking down the gangplank, Kitty and Charlie waited on the quay with a horde of well-wishers. The Koombana’s presence in Broome always saw its residents in festive mood. The ship was the pride of the Adelaide Steamship Company – the height of luxury and a feat of engineering, built with a flat bottom so that it could glide into Roebuck Bay even at low tide. The horn blew and the residents waved the Koombana on her way.
As Kitty and Charlie took the open-topped train along the mile-long pier back to the town, Kitty looked at the sparkling water beneath her. The day was so unbearably humid, she had an overwhelming urge to take off all her clothes and dive in.
Once again she thought how ridiculous the social rules on behaviour were; as a white woman, the idea of swimming in the sea was one that could simply not be countenanced. She knew Camira often took Cat down to the gloriously soft sand and shallow waters of Cable Beach when the jellyfish weren’t in, and had offered to take Charlie too. When Kitty had suggested it to Andrew, he had refused point-blank.
‘Really, darling, sometimes you do have the most ridiculous notions! Our child, swimming with the blacks?’
‘Please don’t call them that! You know both their names very well. And given our child lives by the sea as both you and I did, surely he should be taught to swim? I’m sure you did at Glenelg.’
‘That was . . . different,’ Andrew had said, although Kitty had no idea why it was. ‘I’m sorry, Kitty, but on this one, I’m putting my foot down.’
As Charlie slumbered against her shoulder, worn out from the heat and excitement, Kitty gave a small smile.
While the husband’s away, the ‘Kat’ can play . . .
*
The following day, Kitty asked Camira if there was perhaps a hidden cove where Charlie could splash in the water. Camira’s eyebrows rose at her mistress’s request, but she nodded.
‘I knowa good place with no stingers.’
That afternoon, Fred drove the pony and cart to the other side of the peninsula. For the first time since she’d arrived in Australia, Kitty felt the sheer bliss of dipping her feet into the gloriously cool waters of the Indian Ocean. Riddell Beach was not the vast sandy stretch that Cable Beach boasted, but it was infinitely more interesting, with its large red rock formations and tiny pools full of fish. With gentle encouragement from Camira, who had removed her blouse and skirt as innocently as a child, Charlie was soon screeching and splashing happily in the water with Cat. As Kitty paddled in the shallows, holding up her petticoats, she was sorely tempted to do the same.
Then Camira pointed up to the heavens and sniffed the air. ‘Storm a-coming. Time to go home.’
Even though the sky looked perfectly clear to Kitty, she had learnt to trust Camira’s instincts. And sure enough, just as Fred steered the pony and cart into their drive, a rumble of thunder was heard, and the first raindrops of the approaching Big Wet began to fall. Kitty sighed as she took Charlie into the house, for as much as she’d longed for the blissful coolness of the air that would arrive with the storm, in less than a few minutes’ time, the garden would be a river of red sludge.
The rain lasted all night and well into the next day, and Kitty did her best to amuse Charlie inside the house with books, paper and colouring pencils.
‘Play with Cat, Mama?’ He looked up at her mournfully.
‘Cat is with her own mama, Charlie. You can go and see her later.’
Charlie pouted and his eyes filled with tears. ‘Wanna go now.’
‘Later!’ she snapped at him.
Recently, Kitty had noticed how, no matter what exciting things she suggested the two of them do together, all Charlie wanted was to be with Cat. Certainly, Camira’s daughter was an extraordinarily lovely little girl, with a gentle nature that calmed Kitty’s more hyperactive son. There was no doubt that she was already a beauty, with her gorgeously soft skin the colour of gleaming mahogany and her mesmeric amber eyes. She’d also realised in the past few months that Charlie was not just bilingual, but trilingual. Sometimes, she would hear the children playing together in the garden and talking in Cat’s native Yawuru.
Kitty had said nothing about this to Andrew; but the fact that Charlie was clever enough to understand and speak three languages, when she herself sometimes struggled to find the right word in one, made her proud. Yet, as she watched Charlie peering out of the kitchen window, looking desperately for Cat, she wondered if she’d allowed Charlie to spend more time in her company than he should.