“Shall I see her?”

“Yes. You’ll meet Elsie. She and I are the best of friends. We don’t see each other very often. Perhaps that’s why.”

“You don’t really like her.”

“Oh, but I do. I like her very much. We get on well for a time. She’s a good sort.”

“Then why … ?”

“There are things you’ll understand later. Human beings are complicated creatures. They rarely do what they’re expected to. She couldn’t leave her country, and I’m a wanderer. She’s got a comfortable little place near the harbour. She was born there. Native heath and all that. But I want to talk about us … you and me.”

“Yes,” I said excitedly.

“We took to each other from the start, didn’t we? There was something special, wasn’t there?”

“Yes, there was.”

“We were drawn to each other. Carmel, I am your father.”

There was a deep silence while joy flooded over me.

“You are pleased?” he asked at length.

“It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

He took my hand and kissed it tenderly.

“It’s the best thing that ever happened to me, too,” he said.

I sat in wonder. If I could have been granted my dearest wish, it would have been just this.

He said: “You must be wondering how it all came about.”

I nodded blissfully.

“When I heard you had been left behind in Suez, it gave me such a shock. I could only be thankful that I did not hear until you were safe. I should have been frantic. I should have left the ship and gone in search of you. And that would have been the end of my career at sea. “

“Oh, I’m sorry … so sorry.”

“I know. It wasn’t your fault. Those stupid boys should have taken more care of you. The idea came to me that you were growing up and it was time you knew the truth. It was then that I decided to tell you, Carmel. I did not know. I had not an inkling until the doctor wrote to me. I was in New Zealand when I received the letter. Posts are often delayed, as you can imagine. Dear old Dr. Edward. His heart was in the right place. You see, he knew. Thank God he did.”

“They would have sent me to an orphanage. I should never have known you … or who I was.”

That prospect seemed doubly gloomy now that I could compare it with what I should have missed.

“Even Grace had to relent and look after you when she knew you were one of the family. But let me tell you. Your mother was a gipsy girl.”

“Zingara!” I cried.

He looked at me in amazement.

“She became that. She was Rosaleen Perrin. You knew?”

“I saw her once.” I told him how I had become acquainted with Rosie Perrin when she had bandaged my leg, and how later I had met Zingara.

“She must have come there to see you. What did you think of her?”

“That she was the most beautiful person I had ever seen.”

“She was unlike everyone else in every way.” He smiled reminiscently.

“I was at Commonwood House for all of three months. I had a long leave due to me and the ship was going into dock for a thorough overhaul and refit. It was during that time that I met Rosaleen. I was deeply attracted by her.”

“And she by you.”

“It was a wild and deep attraction while it lasted.”

“It did not last?”

“It did not have a chance to. There had been someone who came to the encampment … something about material he was collecting for a book he intended to write about the gipsies’ way of life. He had been interested in her ever since then. That was not surprising. She and I used to meet at night in the woods. I have travelled a great deal and known many people, but never one like Rosaleen. She was having tuition for a stage career and she was bent on that. I would not be there for ever. We both knew that it could not last and we were the sort of people to accept that. I knew nothing of your existence until Edward wrote and told me. I’ll explain all that. She left you at Commonwood House because she thought it was the best for you. She was full of her own sort of wisdom. She was a great one with the cards and that sort of thing. She reckoned she had special insight. She would have worked it out that it would be best for you. She would never have let them send you to an orphanage. You were her child and mine and the best place for you was not with her … or the gipsies. It was Commonwood House.”

“And you knew I was there.”

“That’s what I’m going to tell you. Edward-Dr. Marline knew of my passion for Rosaleen. He deplored it, naturally, but he knew. Poor man. He was caught with Grace, and a nice dance she led him. He did not approve of my way of life. A wife in Sydney and wandering fancy free around the world. Yes, he knew about Rosaleen. He remonstrated with me.

“Grace must never know,” he said. As if I would have thought of confiding in Grace!

“There was a little shop in the High Street in those days. The Old Curiosity Shop, it was called. It’s not there now. I don’t suppose it paid, but it was a pleasant little place. A Miss Dowling ran it; a nice little lady, but with no head for business.

“She had all sorts of curios in the window, and one day

I saw this pendant. It had an unusual inscription on it and I went in to see it. Miss Dowling was delighted when people were interested in her goods, and she immediately brought the pendant out of the window to show me.

‘ “I think it’s of Romany origin,” she said.

“That’s what I was told.

These signs mean something. Good luck, something like that. It usually is. ” Well, I decided to give it to Rosaleen, so I bought it. She loved trinkets and the gipsy association would amuse her.

“As I was coming out of the shop, I saw Edward. He was just going in because he was interested in an old book Miss Dowling had. We found the book and we chatted with Miss Dowling, who mentioned the pendant.

“As we walked back to Commonwood House, the doctor asked me about it, and I showed it to him and told him about the Romany designs which had some meaning and which the gipsies might understand. He was always intrigued by anything like that and he was immediately interested in the pendant. I felt he was rather reluctant to hand it back to me.

Then he went on to give me a lecture on this gipsy association of mine. Gipsies were a wild and reckless people, he warned me.

“I answered him in my flippant way and told him that life was littered with pitfalls and, if one watched out for them all the time, one would fail to see all the blessings which were undoubtedly there.

“I’m fond of the doctor, and I think he is of me. Moreover, I was desperately sorry for anyone who had married Grace. I think he was aware of my sympathy and grateful for it and, although he deplored what he called my attitude to life, I think he was a little envious of it.

“I used to talk of him to Rosaleen. She was very interested in everything at Commonwood. She knew about Adeline’s deficiencies and said it was a punishment for Mrs. Marline’s arrogance and pride. I pointed out that it was a pity poor Adeline should suffer for her mother’s sins.

“Well, the point of all this is that, when you were found, the pendant was round your neck, and Edward immediately knew whose child you were and he told Grace. Her brother’s child was a Sinclair and that must not be forgotten. So she agreed that you should be brought up in the Marline household.

“And Rosaleen, satisfied that her child was in the best place, went away and pursued her career. The doctor wrote to me and told me that my daughter was at Commonwood House, being brought up with his children.

“You can imagine how excited I was. A daughter of my own! There had been no question of children for Elsie and me. Elsie couldn’t have them. It was one of the reasons why things went wrong between us, I believe. Elsie’s the motherly kind. You’ll see when you meet her.

“I longed to see this daughter of mine. It was unfortunate that I was so far away. You were three or four months old when Edward’s letter reached me. I wanted so much to come home. But there I was, on the other side of the world, and it was four years before we met.

“Meeting you was wonderful.”

I clasped my hands together, remembering.

“Everything changed when you came,” I said.

“Everything was different.”

He turned and kissed me.

“And that, my daughter, is exactly as it should be.”

I was in an ecstatic mood. Life was wonderful! At last I belonged, and there was no one I could have wanted to belong to more than to this wonderful man who was my father.

It was not surprising that I believed in miracles.

Each day seemed full of pleasure. I would awake with a feeling of intense delight. I was afraid to go to sleep in case I dreamed that this wonderful thing had not happened and was only part of a dream.

Not until I was wide awake in could I assure myself that it was really true. And then I would be completely content.

I wanted to shout to everyone: “I am the Captain’s daughter,” but I could not do that. It would be too complicated to explain. I could not even tell Gertie. No, I must remain Carmel March, and he must be Uncle Toby until we reached Sydney and I met Elsie.

Uncle Toby still called him Uncle Toby and I would sit on deck whenever he could spare the time and talk of the future.

We agreed that he would remain Uncle Toby until we reached Sydney.

Then we should say goodbye to the people with whom we were travelling and it was unlikely that we should see any of them again. Then, should I call him Father? Papa? They didn’t seem to fit. For so long, I had called him Uncle Toby, so he suggested it should be just Toby. Why not? We must drop the Uncle. So we decided on that.

I should, of course, have to go back to Commonwood House and be educated. He reckoned it would be a good idea for me to go away to school. Estella would certainly go. It would be different now that I was known to be her cousin-not the gipsy foundling.

I grimaced, thinking of school.

“It has to be,” said Toby dolefully.

“Education is something you can’t do without and you won’t get the right sort roaming the seven seas with your newly-found father. Time passes. We shall meet whenever we can, and when an opportunity comes along I may take you to sea with me. In the meantime, we have the rest of this voyage to enjoy. I am so glad you know the truth. I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time. I thought you were too young, and then the moment seemed to come.”

“I am so glad to know.”

“Well, now we’ll go on from there.”

“It will be different at Commonwood House now.”

“Without Grace,” he said.

“I hope Miss Carson will be there.”

“It won’t be so bad, you know. And there will be those times when we can see each other.”

“I wish you were not so often away.”

“Life is never perfect. It’s better to accept that and not crave for the impossible. It is not so bad now, is it?”

I said with fervour: “It’s wonderful!”

The days were passing too quickly. I wanted to hold back time. We should soon be in Sydney. I looked forward to seeing that great city of which I had heard so much, but I was beginning to think of it as the first stage of my great adventure, and when we left it, I should be on my way back to England. There was some time ahead yet, but everything must come to an end; I should be back to the old life. I should have to go to school. The halcyon days would not last for ever.

That was why I could not bear them to pass so quickly.

The Indian Ocean would always have a special place in my dreams. Those balmy days, when I walked on deck with my father or sat with him looking out over that benign and beautiful sea; and those nights in the cool of the evening when we talked of the future and the glorious present. He would point out the stars to me and speak of the mystery of the universe and the wonder of living on this floating ball which was our planet.

“There is so little we know,” he said.

“Anything could happen at any moment … and the lesson of that is that, if we are wise, we should enjoy every one of them as they pass.”

I can appreciate those days now: and I can smile at the innocent child who believed that she had found the perfect way to live.

However, it is good to know such happiness and perhaps one is fortunate not to know that it cannot last for ever.

We had rounded the north coast of Australia and had come down the east to Queensland. We spent a day in Brisbane and, as Toby had much to keep him in port, I went off for the day with the Formans.