“This is all very strange and, after all, we are more important even than our luggage. I should have thought your father would have been here, Fred. He can’t live far away.”

I did not answer.

We need not have worried about the luggage. Macala returned in a short time with the boy and another tall man. Between them they carried all our bags.

We had a little of the currency we had used in Cato Cato and the man and the boy were overcome with joy when we gave this to them.

Then we set off, the cart trundled along through lush vegetation and in less than ten minutes we saw the house. It was raised a foot or so from the ground on props and there was only one floor. It was long and squat, made of white wood; and brightly coloured flowering shrubs grew profusely round it.

As we approached, a door on the porch opened and a woman stood there.

She was strikingly handsome, tall, statuesque. Her black hair was coiled loosely about her head, her face was less dark than most we had seen since our arrival on the island; it was very smooth and she had large luminous eyes and her smile, showing those perfect white teeth, was welcoming.

“You are Frederica,” she said, looking not at me but at Tamarisk.

“No,” I said.

“I am.”

She spoke English with a light lilting accent which was attractive.

“You have come at last. Ronald is so eager to have you here.”

She spoke my father’s name with a drawn-out emphasis on the first syllable. I was wondering who she was.

This is my friend, Mrs. Marchmont, who travelled with me. “

“Mrs. Marchmont,” she said.

“We’re happy that you have come.”

“And Mr. Armour who has helped us along the way. He is going to the mission.”

Her brows knitted together for a moment, then she was smiling again.

“I am Karia,” she said.

“We heard that the man Macala was sent by you.”

“Yes.”

“My father is here?”

“He is so happy that you are come.”

I looked round expectantly and she went on: “But come in. We do not want to stand here.”

She led the way into a room which was cool after the heat outside.

There were several windows. They were open but there was a mesh over them which I presumed was to prevent the insects coming in. The furniture appeared to be made of light-coloured wood which I supposed was bamboo.

“You must see your father first,” she said.

She looked at Tamarisk and Luke in a rather puzzled way. Her face was very expressive. One could almost read her thoughts. She was thinking that I should be alone when I met him.

Luke said in that quiet, understanding way which was typical of him:

“We can wait here. He’ll be eager to see you. Perhaps we could meet him later.”

I thought it was all rather mysterious and there must be some explanation for it.

Karia looked relieved and smiled gratefully at Luke while Tamarisk sat down in one of the bamboo chairs. Karia turned to me and said: “Come.”

She took me through a passage and, stopping before a door, opened it. She said in a very gentle voice: “She is here.”

He was sitting in a chair before the window. He did not even turn his head, which seemed very strange.

I followed Karia into the room and I stood beside his chair. Although he remained seated it was obvious that he was very tall. His whitish hair had a tinge of gold left in it; his features were classically regular. He had been-and still was a very handsome man. He said, in one of the most musical voices I have ever heard: “Frederica, my daughter, so you have come to see me. At last you are here.”

He put out a hand and went on: “I can’t see you, my dear. I am blind.”

My lips trembled as he went on: “Come close.” He stood up then and reached for me. He put his hands on my shoulders first, then lifted them to feel my face. He explored it with his fingers and then kissed me tenderly on the forehead.

“My dear child,” he said, ‘for so long I have waited for this meeting. ”

He recovered from that emotional scene more quickly than I did, and said he must meet Tamarisk and the young man who had been so helpful.

I went to them and told them my father was eager to meet them. I explained that he was blind.

They were astounded, but when he met them he seemed light-hearted and lively very much the man I had expected him to be from Aunt Sophie’s description of him.

He welcomed Tamarisk warmly and said how glad he had been when he had heard she was to accompany me; and most courteously he thanked Luke for his care of us during the voyage.

We sat and talked and Karia brought in a fruit drink.

She joined us and I noticed how watchful she was of my father, making sure the table for his glass was near him.

There was so much I had to discover about his household and I could see that Tamarisk was full of curiosity.

Luke eventually said he must get on to the mission where they would be expecting him.

“Macala will take you if you don’t mind the old cart,” said Karla.

“It is the best we have. The poor old donkeys are a trifle ancient but they will have to do until we replace them. They’ve done good service.”

“The mission house is about half a mile along the road from here,” said my father.

“So we shall be close neighbours. Whatever made you decide to come here?”

“It was offered me and I accepted,” said Luke.

My father nodded.

“You will be welcome here if you want a meal at any time, won’t he, Karla?”

“He will,” she answered.

When Luke had gone, my father said: “Poor young man. But he seems earnest. I hope things don’t go too badly for him.”

“You don’t seem to think very highly of the mission house,” I said.

“I suppose it’s all right as such places go. Converting the heathen is a very demanding occupation … unless, of course, the heathen are desirous of conversion.”

“And these are not?”

He lifted his shoulders.

“I dare say they like things the way they are. It’s easy if the spirits are in their favour and they can always placate them with some little offering. They don’t understand all that ” love your neighbour as yourself”. They are concerned with looking after themselves. They can’t spare much time for their neighbours.”

“Luke is a very good man,” I said.

“We call him St. Luke,” added Tamarisk.

My father smiled.

“Yes,” he said.

“There is an aura of gentleness about him. I hope you see a good deal of him.”

We were shown our rooms. They were side by side. Everything was in light wood. There were a few rugs on the wooden floors and the windows were screened by the mesh. Washbasins and ewers were in each bedroom and I discovered later that water had to be drawn from the well near the house. It was no less primitive than conditions had been in Cato Cato. Two families lived in hut-like dwellings in the grounds and they acted as servants. Considering the circumstances, I could see that everything had been done to provide the utmost comfort.

What I wanted most was to talk to my father alone. Tamarisk seemed to realize this and after we had had a meal, which was served under Karla’s supervision, she said she felt very tired and would like to go to her room. That gave me the opportunity I needed.

He took me to the room where I had first met him.

“This is my sanctum,” he said.

“I am here a great deal. Karia says you are a little puzzled and I should explain everything to you.”

“Who exactly is Karia?”

“This is her house. She is the daughter of an Englishman and a native woman. Her father came here and set up a large coconut plantation. He did not marry her mother but he thought a lot of Karia. She is a very clever woman … and attractive. In fact, she is a very wonderful person. I knew you two would like each other from the start. Don Marling, her father, left her this house, the plantation and a fortune when he died. She is a power in this place.”

“And you share this house with her?”

He smiled.

“We are very great friends. She brought me here when’ he touched his eyes ‘when this was happening to me.”

“Aunt Sophie used to tell me about you. She did not mention that you were blind.”

“She did not know. I did not tell her.”

“But you were writing to her. And I thought you were in Egypt until I was coming here to see you.”

“I was in Egypt. In the Army at one time, you know! And then … I left. I did all sorts of business deals out there … and in other places. It’s in the past. No sense in dwelling on a misspent youth.”

“Was it misspent, then?”

“I enjoyed it, so how could it have been? I was stating the general view rather than my own.”

“I want to know so much about you. All these years I knew I had a father and I had never seen you. I knew very little about you until Aunt Sophie told me.”

“You mustn’t trust her. She would be too lenient with me.”

“She always spoke of you with great affection. She was always fond of you.”

“I was fond of her, too. She kept me informed of your progress. I was very glad when you went to live with her.”

“It was wonderful for me.”

“I liked to think of the two of you together, comforting each other.

Sophie was adept at the art of comforting . always. “

There was a deep regret in his voice, and I wanted to ask him more about their relationship. I knew that she had loved him: I fancied he had loved her too. There was so much I had to learn. I could not expect to know it all at once.

“I want to hear more about Karia,” I said.

“So this is her house and we are her guests.”

“I live here too.”

“As her guest?”

“Not exactly.” There was a brief silence and then he went on: “You have probably heard about my rather cheque red career. Your mother and I, we parted. You know why.”

“You were not happy together.”

“She was well rid of me. We could never have been happy together. I was by no means a saint … not in the least like your Luke. I am afraid I am rather different, and with a man like me there must be … relationships.”

“You and Karia?” I asked.

He nodded.

“We share the household.”

“You could have married … or couldn’t you?”

“Well, yes. I am free now. She was married once … married for her money, I suppose. Perhaps not entirely, but it would have been an incentive, I dare say. He might have robbed her but he didn’t because she is a shrewd businesswoman. He died. Yes, we could marry, but here it is not the same as an English village where the neighbours keep a sharp look-out to make sure society’s laws are observed. Karia does not think of marriage. Nor I. But that does not prevent our enjoyment of each other’s society. Now, you are not shocked, daughter?”

“I don’t think so. I guessed that was how it might be. She is a very kindly person.”

“She is interesting half-native, half-Anglo-Saxon. It makes an interesting combination. I met her in Egypt. She has travelled somewhat. I liked her freshness, her frankness, and her happy disposition. Live for the day, that is her doctrine, and I suppose it is mine. We were friends in Egypt and then when my affliction began to descend, she looked after me. I was in a low state. I feared blindness, my dear Frederica, as I had never feared anything in my life. I even went so far as to pray.

“Dear God, leave me my eyes, and take everything else.” And the Lord ignored my request, but He gave me Karia. ” He gripped my hand tightly for a moment. Then he went on:

“Karia was wonderful. She is the eternal mother. Why do such women not have children? She was with me through my despair. She was very important to me. And she brought me here to this house left to her by her doting father. She is rich by island standards; she owns thousands of highly productive coconuts. She is a businesswoman and looks after the plantation as well as any man could, and she looks after me like a mother. Besides her coconuts she has my eternal gratitude. Frederica, I could never have come through to accept my blindness without her. “

I said: “Aunt Sophie would have cared for you. You could have come back to us.”

He shook his head.

“No,” he said.

“I know she would, but I could not go back to her. There were times when I thought of it … before the blindness began to come on. You see, in the first place …”

“I know. She told me. She thought you would marry her, and you married my mother instead.”