‘I said that I am pregnant. I am having a baby. Jalygurr.’
Charlie watched as Cat stuffed her fist into her mouth to stop herself screaming. She was shaking from head to foot. There was yet another crash of thunder and the rain began to pelt down onto the tin roof above them.
‘I . . .’ He went towards her to embrace her, but she backed away, terrified. ‘Cat, my darling Cat . . . please, don’t be frightened of me. I’m not the enemy, really, I—’
‘If my mother finds out, she beat me, throw me out on the street! I promised her, I promised . . .’
‘My love.’ Charlie took a couple of tentative steps towards her. ‘I can understand why you’re so distressed, and yes, it is a little premature, but—’
‘I promised her, I promised not to do same thing she did,’ Cat wailed, backing away further. ‘Never trust them whitefellas, never trust ’em, never trust ’em . . .’
Charlie watched her bring her knees up protectively in front of her. ‘And your mother was right,’ he said, taking another step towards her. ‘But I’m not just any old “whitefella”. I’m your Charlie, and you’re my Cat. Just think of the times we’ve imagined we would be married and have a family.’
‘Yes! But we were children, Charlie. It was playing games. Not real life. And now it is. I wanta get rid of it, drown it as soon as it born. Then I won’t have this big problem.’
Charlie was horrified at her words. ‘Please, Cat.’ He took the last two steps towards her. Thunder continued to crash directly above their heads as though the full force of the heavens was voicing its displeasure. ‘Here in my pocket I have something for you.’ He crouched down next to her and drew out the amber ring. ‘Everything is all right, my love. Listen to me.’ Charlie took her small right hand in his. ‘My darling Cat’ – he reached for her fourth finger – ‘will you marry me?’ He slipped the ring onto her finger, then watched her eyes move to the ring and study it silently.
‘It’s made of amber, and there is some kind of insect caught inside it. I thought it would match your eyes. Do you like it?’
‘I . . .’ Cat bit her lip. ‘It a beautiful gift, Charlie.’
‘See? Everything will be all right. We will be married as soon as possible, my love.’
‘No.’ Cat looked up at him. ‘I can’t marry you, Charlie. I am your maid.’
‘You know I don’t care about that! I love you. I’ve wanted to marry you since I was a small boy.’
Cat tipped her eyes up to the heavens. When her gaze returned to him, it was full of sorrow. ‘Charlie, in twenty-four hours you become most important whitefella in Broome. You inherit the Mercer Pearling Company and become the big bossman. You know lotsa things I don’t know, because you had good education. You belong to the whitefellas’ world, but I don’t.’
‘I can teach you, Cat, just as I’ve taught you in the past.’
‘No! No one would come ta eat at our table with me being your missus. You will be . . .’ Cat’s eyebrows drew together as she searched for the words. ‘A laughing pot.’
‘Stock,’ Charlie corrected automatically.
‘Stock, yes. And our stock is not the same. No.’ Alkina shook her head firmly. ‘You needa white woman, not me. I cannot make you proud, be something I not. I don’t want dem whitefellas laughing at me behind my back, saying I’m stupid. And they would laugh at me. I’m good person, just different.’
‘I know, but . . .’ Again Charlie dug deep to find the words. ‘Inside there’ – he pointed to her stomach – ‘is something that both of us made with our love. Surely, we must put that first? If we marry quickly, no one would even know, because the baby would just come early, and—’
‘You dreamin’ again. Everyone would know why you marry me. It’s been four months already.’ Alkina withdrew her hand and rested her head back on her knees. ‘They would never believe in our love.’
‘But I do,’ Charlie said, his voice strong and clear above the thunder. ‘I understand that you’re all that’s kept me going for the last ten years. That there haven’t been more than a few minutes – not even during my final exams – when I’ve not thought of you. Do not . . .’ He cupped his palms to her cheeks and lifted her head from her knees. ‘I repeat, do not ever put me in the same category as other men. I love you with all my heart. You are my jarndu nilbanjun – we are promised to each other. My life would be nothing without you and our baby to come.’ He reached for her, drew her into his arms and kissed her roughly, passionately, but she pulled away from him.
‘Marlu! No! Stop it! Please stop! For all education, you don’t understand! I cannot be your wife. There is no future for us.’
‘There is, my darling. And yes, you’re right, perhaps it will be difficult, and perhaps everyone will be shocked by our union, but surely we owe it to future generations of men and women in this country to make a stand? And I am perfectly placed to do so. In twenty-four hours I will inherit huge wealth. Money talks – especially in this town.’ Charlie reached for her again and held her taut body against his. ‘My darling, we’re a family already, don’t you see? It was meant to be.’
‘No! I . . . you, an’ this’ – Cat patted her stomach – ‘are not experiment. We are human, and dis is our life, Charlie. We have lived side by side, yes? So close together, always, but truth is, we far apart. You walka the world as a whitefella with a veil over your eyes. You do not see how the rest of the world sees me, how they treatem me because of the colour of my skin. You do not see how so much of the world is closed to me, because you are free, and I not. An’ our baby will not be free.’
‘Cat, we would be man and wife and the law would allow it! And I will do everything I can to make sure you and our baby are safe, just as my mother did for Camira, for you!’ Charlie wrung his hands as he tried to make her understand. ‘I have nothing without you.’
There was silence as they both listened to the rain drumming on the roof.
A long sigh escaped Cat’s lips. ‘Charlie, I thinkum you not live here in Broome for long time now. You don’t understand how it is.’
‘I don’t care how it is! We will baptise the baby in front of the entire town! I’ve been discussing this with Ted – the friend I have told you about whose father ran the Hermannsburg mission near Alice Springs. Ted has taught me so much, he even speaks Arrernte, and tells me that the Aboriginals in the mission are free to come and go as they please. The whitefellas respect your culture, and—’
‘Does he knowa ’bout me?’
‘Of course he does.’
‘Would he ever marry a “creamy” like me?’
‘Goodness, I don’t know, I’ve never asked him . . .’
‘Hah! Things other fellas tell you but wouldn’t do themselves . . .’