“First of all, I want you to be happy.”

“I’d like always to be as happy as I am now.”

We were silent for a while. Then he said: “We’ll do some thing. You and I must always be together.”

“That is just what I want,” I told him.

Then he started to plan in the way I knew so well. When ever it was possible, I must sail with him. Now I had left school there would be opportunities. When he returned, we would live together. Sydney was a beautiful place. Did I not think so? Elsie would like to have us close, so that she could keep an eye on us. We could get a place of our own.

He was frowning. Then he said suddenly: “What do you think about going home? You were dragged away rather suddenly.”

My mind went back in time. I was seeing Commonwood House again.

Adeline, looking through the window at the station fly, looking for Miss Carson; Estella, with that air of “I am not afraid’, which betrayed so clearly that she was. It was all hazy, part of a vague, unreal period. Everything would be very different now.

He did not wait for me to answer, but went on: “No, perhaps it would not be a good idea to go back now. We could get a place in Sydney.

Right on the harbour, where we could watch the ships come in. That would be best. “

“It sounds wonderful.”

“As for home-well, that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

“It would be strange to go back to Commonwood.”

“Oh, not Commonwood! It would be quite different there.” He was frowning.

“No, no. It will be that place on the harbour. Or, if we did go home because home always has a certain pull, you know I fancy a little place in Devon. On the coast … the home of the great Drake.

Somewhere near the Hoe. Or perhaps Cornwall. Well, the choice will be ours. From Land’s End to John o’Groats. “

“It will be wonderful to plan.”

“Carmel, I’m sorry. It could have been different. In the beginning, I mean. A nice home … with parents.”

“I have my parent.”

“I was thinking of your mother. She would have liked to have you with her. Well, it happened the way it did. She thought it was the best for you.”

“That was what Miss Carson said.”

“Miss … ? Oh, you mean …”

“She said that, soon after she came to the house. I wonder what happened to her? She was a lovely person.”

“How can we know?” he said.

“Anyway, it was all a long time ago.”

He was silent for a few seconds, frowning and staring ahead.

Then he said: “I saw your mother not very long ago. She wanted to hear all about you.”

“You saw her in England?”

“Yes. It would be good if you could see each other. Perhaps you will one day. I don’t see why not.”

“I remember her so well in Rosie Perrin’s caravan.”

“Yes. She told me about the meeting. She was most taken with you.”

“It must be strange to meet one’s own daughter for the first time when she is quite old.”

“Strange things happen in the world. We’ve got the whole world before us now, Carmel.”

I nodded dreamily.

No, I shall never forget the perfection of that night. I have often since felt that it is perhaps dangerous to be as happy as I was then, and it may be such perfect happiness is doomed not to last.

It was two days later. We lay off the island of Mahoo. I had awakened early and looked through my porthole window, and there it was-the perfect desert island, lush and green in that pellucid sea, palm trees swaying in the breeze, native huts scattered around the shore, and little boats rather like canoes coming out to the ship.

Toby had said that we should be too big to get close in to the island and it would mean anchoring just about half a mile offshore, and going in on the launches. First the cargo which was being taken to the island would be unloaded and taken ashore, and then we ourselves could follow.

While I was on deck watching the unloading of the cargo, he joined me for a moment.

“You and I will go ashore together. There’ll be something of a ceremony. I shall rub noses with the Chief and I shall introduce you to him. You will be amused.”

“How interesting!” I cried.

“I often think how lucky I am to have a sea captain for a father. How many people can travel the world and in such a way?”

He kissed the tip of my nose.

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” he said.

“Now, I must leave you. I just thought I’d have a quick word.”

Yes, I was indeed perfectly happy.

Toby and I were taken ashore with the Chief Officer and two of his men. As the launch scraped on the sand, we disembarked in about a foot of water and were immediately surrounded by naked children, all shrieking at the top of their voices.

They were welcoming us to their island.

Two formidable-looking men stepped forward and threw flowers, made into necklaces, about our necks. Toby saluted in acknowledgement, which made the children rock about with mirth.

Then the two men who had presented us with the flowers walked on either side of us. They were naked from the waist up, and the garments they wore were made of animal skins and feathers. The feathers had been dyed red and blue. The men had frizzy hair which stood out round their heads and in it they wore bone ornaments. They carried spears: and, but for the flowers and the giggling children, I should have felt like a captive.

Toby glanced at me and gave me a reassuring wink.

“The usual welcome,” he said.

“I’ve done it all before. They know me for a friend. The next step in the proceedings is presentation to the Great Chief.”

We walked up the gentle incline, the children surrounding us, laughing and shouting to one another: and there, in the clearing, the ceremonial greeting took place.

I saw the Chief at once. He was seated on what might be called a throne. It was indeed ornate. It looked most imposing, decorated with flowers and the skins of animals. Above it had been fixed a very fierce-looking mask. The mouth was a snarl and the expression menacing. It was bigger than the Chief’s face and he was a very big man. He wore about his shoulders a cloak of feathers blues, greens and red in colour. On either side of him stood two very large men with spears.

Toby stepped up to the Chief and bowed. The Chief inclined his head but did not rise.

Toby said something and the man who had taken him up to the Chief spoke too. The Chief listened. Then he stood up. The feather cloak fell from his shoulders, exposing bare flesh like shining ebony. Toby went close to the Chief, who seized him by the shoulders and brought their faces close together. This was what Toby called rubbing noses.

Some words were spoken. Then Toby turned to me and held out his hand.

I found myself looking into the large black eyes of the Chief. He had to stoop low to be on a level with me as his hands pressed on my shoulders and, for a moment, I felt as though I were being drawn away from all that was familiar into a different world as I stared into those pools of darkness. It was an uncanny sensation. Then I felt his nose touch mine. For a few seconds it moved gently. Then I was released.

I said to myself: So they really do touch noses. And then I felt normal again.

We were seated beside the Chief and Toby summoned the other sailors to come forward. They carried boxes which they had brought ashore. These were opened and revealed certain gifts for the Chief. The children crept closer and there were gasps of pleasure and excitement. There were trinkets of all kinds, and all the spectators, including the

Chief, regarded them with wonder. The object which aroused the most excitement and appreciation was a mouth organ. Toby played a tune on it, which sent the watching crowd wild with delight.

The gifts were, of course, a token of our friendship, and there must be a return of such tokens. A ceremonial presentation followed when the Chief placed a necklace of bone about Toby’s neck. Then I realized that I was to have one too, for I was the Captain’s daughter and to honour me was to honour the Captain.

The Chief himself placed it round my neck, and again those dark eyes looked deep into mine as though to read my thoughts. I hoped he could not. I was merely hoping that he would not touch my nose with his. He did, however, and then, holding my shoulders, looked deep into my eyes before releasing me.

Then we sat down and several of the warriors were presented to my father; and others came forward to perform some of their native dances, which were mainly stamping on the ground with their feet in what appeared to be a warlike manner, and uttering what I presumed to be battle cries. I was relieved that we were friends and not enemies.

This went on for what seemed to me a very long time. The heat was intense and the sun was setting by the time we returned to the ship.

That evening we sat on deck, looking over the sea to the island. We could hear the sound of drums in the distance.

“Rather exhausting,” said Toby.

“It was so hot and everything was strange.”

“These islands are very much of a pattern. The ceremonies are a little different, but not much. We naturally have to be a little wary in our dealings with the islanders. There could so easily be misunderstanding. We are as strange to them as they are to us. The mouth organ was an immense success, wasn’t it?”

I laughed at the memory.

“I liked the children best,” said.

“They were so amused by us and didn’t attempt to hide it.”

He smiled at the memory.

“Well, we shall sail at midnight tomorrow.

The tide will be right and we shall have completed our business by then. “

“It has been a wonderful trip. I hate to think of its coming to an end.”

“There’ll be others. By the way, it will be rather an important occasion tomorrow. We shall be honoured by the ceremony of the Kerewee Cup. That’s the native drink. There is something sacred about it and the fact that we are allowed to watch its preparation means that we are accepted as friends. They make a ceremony of proclaiming friendship.”

“I suppose, when you can be set on by an enemy at any time which is what must have happened to them in the past you want to make sure of your friends.”

“That’s right. It’s why the dances are like displays of their warlike prowess. They’ll make this Kerewee Cup, and it will be done with the utmost ceremony under the eyes of the Chief. Then the cup, which is in fact a large bowl, will be handed round and we have to partake.”

“You mean actually drink it?”

“Afraid so. Don’t look alarmed. You need take only a sip, but don’t let them see you don’t drink it. I am sure that would be a deadly insult and bring down all sons of curses … the vengeance of their gods or something like that.”

“What sort of vengeance?”

“I don’t know because no one to my knowledge has ever dared to provoke it. Don’t look alarmed. It’s easy enough. Only don’t let them see that you are not eager to drink.”

“What strange sights you must have seen in all your travels!”

“Well, I suppose I have been around a bit.”

I smiled and thought how lucky I was to have a share in his life.

The heat was intense. I had sat on one side of the Chief, Toby on the other, for about an hour. We had witnessed ritual dances and had come to that part of the ceremony where one of the men crouched down and made fire by rubbing two stones together. The pot was placed over the fire and many ingredients were put into it. While it was stirred, the company uttered mournful incantations; and at last the mixture was ready.

It was poured into a smaller bowl which would be handed round. The pot was then placed in front of the Chief; then there was a sudden shout from the assembly. The children all began to whimper and in terror ran to their mothers and hid their faces. I caught Toby’s eyes and he nodded almost imperceptibly. I thought he was assuring me that the terror was all part of the playacting and that they were not really in the least afraid.

The newcomer-tall as the Chief and wearing a mask which was huge and horrific-came forward and stood before the Chief. He gesticulated wildly and contorted his body into odd shapes; his teeth were bared. He turned from the Chief to glare at Toby, who looked suitably impressed, even cowering away from the wrath of the man.

It occurred to me that he must be a witch doctor, a breed of which I had heard a good deal. Toby had once told me that they appeared to have power over life and death and, if they told a man he was to die, that man did die.