“I can picture it down there,” he said.

“All the excitement of arrival. There is sure to be a letter from Sibyl. It would comfort me a great deal to know that you were sailing together. She’s a very experienced traveller and I should like to think she would be with you. If she can’t, well, my dear, I suppose you wouldn’t be the first woman to travel to England alone. We should hear later on in the day, or perhaps tomorrow morning. They take a long time to sort out the mail.”

One or two passengers came ashore. I wondered if they had come for the day and would go back with the ferry. I imagined the salesmen rubbing their hands and placating the spirits in the hope of good business.

I heard the sound of wheels coming up to the house and went out to see what was happening. A woman was sitting in the cart, surrounded by several pieces of luggage. She was incongruously dressed in a blue silk gown which appeared to be in high fashion, and on her head was perched a straw hat dominated by what must be a mythical bird at least, I did not recognize it as belonging to any species I knew.

When she saw me she smiled warmly.

“I’ll guess you’re Frederica. I’m Sibyl Fraser. It’s nice to meet you. We’re going to be travelling companions, so we’d better get to know each other.”

She started to descend from the cart.

“It was simpler just to come,” she said.

“We can get the next ferry.

It comes in three or four days. That’ll give you time for last-minute preparations. I like enough time. Can’t bear to be rushed. “

“Come in,” I said.

“My father will be so pleased to see you.”

Karia came out, and I said: “This is Mrs. Sibyl Fraser, who has come to take me back to England with her.”

“Rather unexpected, I fear,” said Mrs. Fraser.

“I thought it easier to come than write. I’ve booked our passage on the Star of the Seas. She sails at the beginning of next month, so there’s not a lot of time to lose.”

I was grateful for the presence of Sibyl Fraser. She was a light-hearted companion-the best I could have had at that time. She was, as she said, determined to look after me, because her dearest friend Ronald Hammond had asked her to.

“I would do anything for Ronnie,” she declared.

“Just anything. Not that this is an onerous task, dear. Far from it. I love to be with you, and it is nice to have an excuse for going to see my Bertie.”

I had learned her history in a very short time, for she talked continuously, mainly about herself, which suited my mood.

She had been a great success during her London season. Debutante of the Year, they had called her.

“Of course, dear, I was much, much younger then. They had expected me to marry a duke, an earl perhaps, a baronet at least. But it was my Bertram Fraser I fell in love with-a rough diamond, but a 24-carat one. My dear, he was very indeed. It was due to gold-mining in Australia. He owned several mines and I was happy to go out there with him. A disappointment for them at home who had hoped for a coronet, but the money made up for a good deal.”

“It sounds very satisfactory,” I said.

“Oh my dear, it was. But then life’s what you make it, I always said. I had my Bertram and very soon young Bertie put in an appearance. What more could a woman ask for? It was wonderful for me after what I had had in the past. We were of a good family but it was always scrape, scrape, scrape to keep up appearances and then, there I was! I only had to want something and it was mine.”

“A great compensation for the loss of your coronet,” I said.

“Exactly! Particularly as one of them they had in mind for me was a disagreeable old man of fifty. We were happy, Bertram and I, and then he got himself killed. It was in one of his mines. He’d gone down to see something and the thing collapsed on him. He left his fortune to Bertie and me. I was heartbroken, but I wasn’t the sort to go about moping. I’d lost Bertram, but I’d got my little Bertie.”

“And your fortune,” I reminded her.

“That’s so, dear. We had lived in Melbourne to be near the mines, but we had a place in Sydney and I moved there. It suited me better. I travelled a bit. It was on a trip to Egypt when I met your father.

That was about six years after Bertram’s death. We became friends . very good friends, and we’ve kept it up ever since. It was always a pleasure when we met and we did meet through the years . here and there. A good friend is always a good friend. Then I got this letter.

I knew he’d gone blind and that Karia was looking after him. He’d met her in Egypt. She’s a good sort. Does everything for him, doesn’t she?

Even writes his letters for him. Well, he’ll always find someone who wants to look after him. I would have done it myself. “

“He is very fortunate to have such good friends.”

“He’s that sort. I knew he had a daughter. I used to talk to him about Bertie. Bertie went to school in England and made a lot of friends there, went round visiting, met his wife and stayed there. All very natural. He didn’t want to go in for gold-mining. And I didn’t want him to, after what happened to his father. So he’s settled there with his wife and family. Yes, I’m a grandmother, only don’t tell anybody, will you? I go and see them when I can. This is a good excuse. When I’ve taken you to your home I shall go and stay with Bertie and his family.”

“It’s very kind of you to do all this for my father.”

“I’d do a lot more for him. He’s one of the best. We all loved him, so he must be.”

“Yes, I think he must be.”

“And I’m doing this for myself too.”

It was an emotional farewell between my father and myself. We had stayed up late on the night before the ferry which was to take us to Cato Cato came in.

My father grew very sentimental. He told me how happy my visit had made him, how all through the years he had thought of me. Before he had left home, he had stood by my cot.

“You were a most beautiful child. I could scarcely bear to leave you. Sophie dear Sophie she kept in touch all those years. I was so pleased when you went to her.”

“I think you should have gone back to her,” I told him.

“She would have forgiven you for turning from her in the first place.”

“No. I wasn’t good enough for Sophie. It was better as it was.”

“Perhaps I shall come out and see you some time.”

“With your husband. I should so enjoy that. It is my dearest wish now.”

When the ferry carried us away, he stood on the shore. I knew that in his mind’s eye he would have a picture of the scene. He would visualize my standing there, sad to leave him, yet eager to be going to my lover.

Karia was there beside him. I saw her hand on his, a gesture which told me she would take care of him as long as he needed her. She it was who had written those letters to Sophie since he had been unable to, copying his hand writing because she would understand that he did not want Sophie to know of his infirmity. She had taken care of him in every possible way and she would go on doing so.

Tamarisk was there. She was a little reproachful. She had not wanted me to go.

“Wait a while,” she had said.

“We have not been here so very long.”

I pointed out that we had been away from home for a very long time.

“I can’t go yet, Fred,” she said.

“You understand that.”

“I understand you and you must understand why I have to go.”

She pouted in the old familiar way and I did wonder then how long the island would continue to be of interest to her.

There were others on the shore; the Havers were there with Luke and the boy Jaco. Indeed, most of the children on the island were there.

Of course, they came to see the departure of the ferry boat, but I think the crowds were even more than usual on that day.

A sadness crept over me when the island was no longer visible. I felt that a little part of my life had gone for ever, and when I looked back on that strange interlude it seemed like a dream.

The next day we were at Cato Cato where we spent two nights in the hotel in which I had stayed before.

Sibyl Fraser was a knowledgeable traveller and when we arrived in Sydney she had arranged for us to stay there for a day or so while we awaited the arrival of the Star of the Seas.

Homecoming

The novelty of the voyage out had been a great adventure to Tamarisk and me and therefore a source of interest; now I had seen it all before. Sibyl was a seasoned traveller, well acquainted with shipboard life which, there was no doubt, she enjoyed.

She had travelled with the captain before and knew several of the officers. As she remarked to me, she knew her way around and that was always a help.

We had separate cabins, side by side.

“Starboard side,” Sibyl explained to me.

“Port out, starboard home. Otherwise the heat in the tropics is unbearable.”

She was the best possible companion for me. She would not allow me to brood. She wanted to engage in all the shipboard activities. She played deck games, whist and danced in the evenings; she would take me off on excursions when we were in port and make sure we had attractive male escorts. She was deservedly popular, carried on a few light-hearted flirtations, chattered continuously and was always good-humoured.

When the weather was rough she kept to her cabin and so did I. I would lie on my bed and think about arriving home. I wondered what had happened during my absence. Had anything come to light? There must have been a great deal of speculation when I left Harper’s Green so suddenly after my engagement had been announced.