‘Coffee, Mister Charlie?’
‘Thank you.’ He looked up, ready to give Cat a smile, but was instead greeted by Camira’s eyes looking down at him. A sudden tightness clutched at his chest. Cat always served breakfast.
‘Is Cat unwell?’
‘She well, Mister Charlie. She go visit cousin,’ Camira replied calmly.
‘I see. When will she be back?’
‘When cousin baby born. Maybe one week, maybe two.’
Camira’s inscrutable eyes bored into him and he broke into a cold sweat, even though the heat of the day was already overpowering. Was she giving him some secret message? Surely Cat would not have told her mother of her condition?
‘Right,’ he managed, trying to still his breathing and keep control in front of his mother – in front of both mothers – when all he wanted to do was jump up from the breakfast table and go and find her.
‘Did you say Cat is away?’ Kitty removed her reading glasses to look at Camira.
‘Yes, Missus Kitty. I take over while she nottum here.’ Camira replaced the coffee pot on the sideboard and left the room.
‘A euphemism that she’s gone walkabout,’ Kitty sighed. ‘Anyway, the most important thing is you, my dear Charlie. At midnight tonight, you turn twenty-one and become the rightful owner of all the Mercer business interests. How do you feel?’
‘A little daunted, Mother.’
‘There is no need to be, although I cannot say you’re taking over at the perfect moment, as shell orders have decreased recently . . .’
Charlie didn’t hear what she said, just nodded and smiled appropriately whenever she paused to gauge his reaction.
Cat, where are you?
Eventually, to Charlie’s relief, his mother stopped talking and stood up. ‘So, I suggest you enjoy your last day of freedom before you shoulder your responsibilities. Tomorrow will be a busy day. There is a lunch at the office to welcome you, then, of course, the dinner and dance at the Roebuck Bay Hotel in the evening. Let us pray the storm has passed us by for now, or half the great and the good of Broome will arrive with red dirt soaking the bottom of their trousers and skirts,’ she chuckled. ‘I will see you tonight.’
‘Yes, Mother.’ Charlie nodded courteously as she left the room.
He waited until he’d seen Fred pull the car out of the drive before he went in search of Camira. He found her in the kitchen, plucking a duck and tutting. These days, Cat was the cook, well taught by his mother in the ways of British food.
‘Where has she gone?’ he asked, not caring if she did or didn’t know about the baby.
A slight shrug came from Camira’s shoulders. ‘Gone to help cousin.’
‘You believe that?’
‘She my daughter. She nottum lie to me.’
Charlie slumped into one of the wooden chairs that surrounded the kitchen table. He knew he was very close to tears. ‘She is my special friend. You know that. We grew up together and . . . why would she leave on the eve of my twenty-first birthday?’
Camira turned round and studied him, her glance unwavering. ‘Thinka you know why, Mister Charlie. So do I, but we not talk ’bout it. Maybe for best, yes?’
‘No!’ He slammed his fist on the table. ‘I . . .’ He shook his head, knowing the golden rule of never divulging information, let alone feelings, to a servant, but all bets were off. ‘I love her; she is everything to me. I asked her to marry me last night! I wanted to tell the world tomorrow that she would become my wife! Why has she gone? I just don’t understand!’
Then he did cry, and the pair of arms that came gently around him were not his mother’s, but her surrogate, who came from another world.
‘Oh God, Camira . . . you don’t know how much I love her, how much I need her. Why has she gone?’
‘She thinkum she do best for you, Mister Charlie. She don’t wanta hold you back. You musta be part of whitefella world.’
‘We’ve talked about it since we were children! I told her last night we would be married and live together for the rest of our lives!’ Charlie slammed the table again. ‘All the letters I wrote her over the last ten years, telling her how much I miss her, how much I love her . . . I could not have given her any more. Believe me’ – Charlie shook his head in devastation – ‘I would give up all I have willingly. It means nothing to me, I have no interest in becoming rich, only living with her, lovingly, eagerly in the sight of God.’
Camira’s face softened. ‘You whitefellas the bossmen. Maybe she wanta be her own bosswoman. Nottum live in your world.’
‘Camira, where is she? Where has she gone? For God’s sake, tell me!’
‘I notta know, swear, Mister Charlie. She tellum me she leave, an’ I understand. I see an’ I understand. You get me?’ She eyed him, and Charlie nodded. ‘She would have been safe with me. I could have protected her.’
‘She fulla fear. She takem time to think.’
‘For how long? If she returns in a couple of months, the evidence will be obvious! It’s now or never. Tell me where she has gone! You must, you have to!’
Camira walked to the back door of the kitchen. She opened it and then stood outside for a while, her head tipped upwards as if she was asking for guidance. When she reentered the kitchen, she shook her head. ‘Mister Charlie, even Ancestors not tellum me where my daughter go. Believe me.’
‘Did she give you a message? For me, I mean?’
‘Yessum, she ask me to give-a you somethin’ tomorrow.’
‘If it will give some clue as to where she is, you must fetch it for me now!’
‘I do-a like Cat say. Tomorrow.’
Charlie knew better than to argue. ‘Then I will come to your hut at midnight.’
Camira nodded. ‘Now, I mustum cook duck.’
*
Charlie walked towards the hut just before midnight and put out a hand to tap on it gently, but before his skin touched wood, Camira opened the door.
‘Here.’ She passed Charlie a brown paper package tied with a ribbon he’d once seen in Cat’s hair. ‘Happy birthday. Congratulation! You-a man now, no longer littun boy.’ Camira smiled at him tenderly. ‘I helpum you grow.’
‘You did, Camira, and I am grateful for it.’ He stared down at the package in his hands, then up at her once more. ‘You are not worried about your daughter?’
‘I trust, Mister Charlie, she too grown now. What choice I have? Please.’ She placed her hand on his, and her palm was warm. ‘Dis your day. You-a earn it. Please, enjoy. Me an’ Cat wanta you to.’
‘I will try, but you have to know—’
Camira put her finger to her lips. ‘Dun be sayin’ those words. I know ’em already.’ Camira stood on her tiptoes and kissed his forehead. ‘You my boy too. I your bibi. I proud o’ you. Galiya.’