‘I will wait for you, Charlie. I will wait.’
And she had waited, for ten long years, as he had waited for her. He’d written to her from boarding school every Sunday, pouring out his heart as the other boys around him dashed off a quick few words to their parents. He knew she found it difficult to read because she’d had no formal education, but just the process of writing to her comforted him. In return, having issued her with a large supply of stamped and addressed envelopes, he’d receive short and appallingly spelt missives, but she illustrated each letter with carefully drawn pictures of flowers she’d seen, or of the moon hanging low over the sea, with a chain of hearts held together with ivy edging the pages. If she could not speak her love for him, she could draw it.
And tonight – finally – he would ask her to marry him for real.
Charlie looked up to the skies as he heard a faint rumble of thunder. The heat was stifling, and no doubt within the hour there would be a downpour. As he reached for the handle to open the door to the shed, expecting to find it unlocked, trepidation clutched at his heart when it didn’t open. Cat was always here first, as she held the key. He tried it again, but it didn’t budge. He searched the blackness and listened for her light footsteps across the garden. Perhaps it was simply his imagination, but when she’d looked at him at breakfast that morning, the usual warmth had been missing from her amber eyes. His greatest fear had always been that she would tire of waiting for him and find someone else. But now, he was only hours away from declaring his intentions to the world and them both being free to love each other publicly . . .
His mind flew back to Cat and that last night when he’d been inside the shed with her, just over four months ago. Having grown up together, they didn’t feel the usual embarrassment at each other’s bodies as they had matured. Charlie chuckled as he remembered her, aged six, sitting in their play hut stark naked and serving him a cup of tea in a miniature china cup. He’d known every inch of her since she was tiny and could only marvel as she blossomed from an arresting child into a beautiful young woman.
They’d had their first adult kiss on his sixteenth birthday, which had been the most wonderful, yet frustrating moment of his life, for he had not wanted to merely kiss her on the lips, but all over her perfect body. However, they both knew where such intimate activity could lead, and Charlie blushed at the memory of her slapping his face once when his hand had wandered in the direction of her breast.
‘I cannot,’ she’d wailed. ‘Don’t make me.’
Chastened, Charlie had done his best to control his natural physical urges, constantly reminding himself that once they were married, her body was his by rights.
And then . . . that September night before he was due to return to Adelaide for his last few weeks at university, he’d stolen a bottle of champagne from the drinks cabinet and opened it with her in the hut. She’d eyed it suspiciously after he’d popped the cork and poured out two glasses.
‘My mother says this stuff no good for us.’
‘Just try a glass, you’ll love the way the bubbles tickle your tongue,’ Charlie had urged her. ‘I swear, it will do you no harm.’
She’d taken a sip, just to please him, and closed her eyes to assimilate the new taste.
‘I like it!’ she’d said eventually as her eyes had opened and she smiled at him. She’d finished that glass, and he’d poured her another. The rest he’d finished off himself, and they’d lain there on the rough blanket, talking of the future.
It had been she who had turned to kiss him, she who had rolled on top of him and led his hand to undo the buttons of her blouse. After that, the bliss of feeling her naked skin against his own had prevented any rational thought from stopping them loving each other. Cat had fallen asleep immediately after, but Charlie had lain awake, capturing every glorious inch of her lying naked next to him. He’d consoled himself with the thought that in a few months’ time, they would be man and wife, and even if the event had been premature, he was sure that all of their different gods would forgive them. After all, they were adults, and the act of love was completely natural . . .
Another twenty minutes passed outside the shed, with no sign of Cat. Charlie stood up and paced across the lawn. He entered the house and checked the kitchen to see if she had been delayed there, but the whole house was in darkness. Walking across to the hut that Cat and her mother shared, he saw Fred asleep on his pallet in the stable and felt a pinprick of rain upon his hand. Fred always slept outside unless he’d seen the sign of a storm on its way, when he’d retreat inside for cover. Arriving at the door to the hut, he listened but could hear no sound from within. Clutching the handle, he turned it as quietly as he could. Inside, he saw the moonlight streaming through the shuttered window, illuminating only Camira asleep in the double bed.
Closing the door, a surge of panic filled him. Where was she? Having made a sweep of the rest of their land, he returned to the rose shed, wondering if they had missed each other while he’d been away. He tried the door, but it was still locked. Charlie sank down onto his haunches, wondering why, so close now to what he had dreamt of for years, she wasn’t here.
Perhaps she has met someone else . . . some diver off the luggers, he thought.
Charlie felt his stomach turn, then wondered if he should take the pony and cart and drive into town to search for her. Perhaps Mother had sent her out on a late-night errand, and in going about her business, she’d been accosted, or even raped . . .
The air became still with the complete silence of a pregnant storm before its waters finally broke, and he heard a sudden sound from inside the shed. A small cough, or maybe a hiccup, or a cry . . . he didn’t know for sure, but it was enough to spur him to action.
The thunder rumbled above him as he slammed his fist onto the door.
‘Cat, I know you’re there. Let me in now!’
Another burst of thunder came overhead, and he slammed the door once again. ‘I will break it down if you don’t!’
Finally, the key was turned and Charlie entered to find Cat staring at him with fear accentuating her beautiful eyes.
‘For God’s sake!’ Charlie fell through the door, panting. ‘Have you been there all the time? Did you not hear me try the lock?’
She lowered her eyes from his gaze.
Charlie closed the door behind him, locked it, then went towards her to take her in his arms. She did not yield to him; it felt akin to holding a plank of wood.
‘What is it, my darling? What has happened?’
She pulled away from him, then turned and sat down on the blanket. She said something, but he couldn’t hear because the thunder was right above them now, drowning out her low voice.
‘I’m sorry, what did you say?’