me?’
Mariette could only nod and turn to her
papa. To her shock, she saw that he too had tears in his eyes. He was so much taller
than her that she buried her face in his chest, and his hug almost crushed her.
‘I can’t find the right
words to tell you what you mean to me, Mari,’ he whispered. ‘All I can
say is it’s like the wind out on the bay when we race the dinghy, or landing a
huge marlin, or the first strawberries of the year. Now you must take full advantage
of this trip to England, and enjoy it. But think before you act, and listen to your
conscience. And come home safe to us, when you are ready.’
She felt rather than saw his kisses on
her cheeks, and the final squeeze of her hands, because her eyes were blinded with
tears.
Mog looked so small and vulnerable
supported by Papa as they went down the gangway to the wharf. Even Papa, whom she
had thought indestructible, seemed less sprightly and strong. Her whole being wanted
to run after them and say she couldn’t leave them, because she loved them too
much, but it was too late. The ship’s engine had started, the sailors were
removing the gangway, and they were about to cast off.
So she clung tightly to the rail and
waved, just one of 600 other passengers on a ship that was only three-quarters full.
Many of them were crying at leaving loved ones, others were very excited because
they were relishing a trip to England,and
there were a few families who looked both poor and glum with no one to wave to. She
guessed these were people who had failed in New Zealand and decided to cut their
losses and go home. Strangely, it was these families she identified with most; she
guessed that, even now, in Russell there were those who would be gossiping about her
and reminding each other that her father had lost money on his vineyard enterprise
and his wife had been pregnant on their wedding day.
Saying goodbye to her mother and the
boys had been awful. Only Peggy and Don from the bakery came to see her off at the
jetty in Russell. Usually the whole town turned out for such occasions, and their
absence brought it home to her just how much she had disgraced herself and her
family. She could see her mother’s anxiety and sorrow etched into her face,
and although she tried very hard to appear jolly and happy for her daughter,
Mariette knew she would go home and cry. She wouldn’t even have her husband
and Mog there with her to comfort her. Even the boys looked sad, hugging and kissing
her without any prompting, and reminding her she was to send them postcards of every
place she went to.
Until now, as the ship moved slowly away
from the wharf, she hadn’t had the sense that she was really leaving New
Zealand – she’d half expected something would happen to prevent it – but this
was it now, the gap between her and land widening with every second. She waved even
more fiercely, even though she could no longer make out Mog or her father’s
features. All she could really see were their hats; Mog’s was navy blue,
trimmed with white ribbon, and her father was waving his panama with one hand and a
handkerchief with the other. In a few days it would be Christmas, and new tears
spilled over at the thought of her brothers opening their stockings without her
being there to share their excitement.
‘I’ll
be back,’ she vowed to herself. ‘Not with my tail between my legs but
successful and triumphant. You’ll see.’
The ship was picking up speed now and
the people on the wharf were barely visible. It was time to go and stow her things
away in the cabin she would be sharing with another single girl.
As she walked to the companionway that
led down to the cabin, Mariette struggled to compose herself. She was not going to
be a baby and cry, because the daydream she’d had for years of seeing the
world was a reality now. She was going to cross the equator, go from one
Mariette could only nod and turn to her
papa. To her shock, she saw that he too had tears in his eyes. He was so much taller
than her that she buried her face in his chest, and his hug almost crushed her.
‘I can’t find the right
words to tell you what you mean to me, Mari,’ he whispered. ‘All I can
say is it’s like the wind out on the bay when we race the dinghy, or landing a
huge marlin, or the first strawberries of the year. Now you must take full advantage
of this trip to England, and enjoy it. But think before you act, and listen to your
conscience. And come home safe to us, when you are ready.’
She felt rather than saw his kisses on
her cheeks, and the final squeeze of her hands, because her eyes were blinded with
tears.
Mog looked so small and vulnerable
supported by Papa as they went down the gangway to the wharf. Even Papa, whom she
had thought indestructible, seemed less sprightly and strong. Her whole being wanted
to run after them and say she couldn’t leave them, because she loved them too
much, but it was too late. The ship’s engine had started, the sailors were
removing the gangway, and they were about to cast off.
So she clung tightly to the rail and
waved, just one of 600 other passengers on a ship that was only three-quarters full.
Many of them were crying at leaving loved ones, others were very excited because
they were relishing a trip to England,and
there were a few families who looked both poor and glum with no one to wave to. She
guessed these were people who had failed in New Zealand and decided to cut their
losses and go home. Strangely, it was these families she identified with most; she
guessed that, even now, in Russell there were those who would be gossiping about her
and reminding each other that her father had lost money on his vineyard enterprise
and his wife had been pregnant on their wedding day.
Saying goodbye to her mother and the
boys had been awful. Only Peggy and Don from the bakery came to see her off at the
jetty in Russell. Usually the whole town turned out for such occasions, and their
absence brought it home to her just how much she had disgraced herself and her
family. She could see her mother’s anxiety and sorrow etched into her face,
and although she tried very hard to appear jolly and happy for her daughter,
Mariette knew she would go home and cry. She wouldn’t even have her husband
and Mog there with her to comfort her. Even the boys looked sad, hugging and kissing
her without any prompting, and reminding her she was to send them postcards of every
place she went to.
Until now, as the ship moved slowly away
from the wharf, she hadn’t had the sense that she was really leaving New
Zealand – she’d half expected something would happen to prevent it – but this
was it now, the gap between her and land widening with every second. She waved even
more fiercely, even though she could no longer make out Mog or her father’s
features. All she could really see were their hats; Mog’s was navy blue,
trimmed with white ribbon, and her father was waving his panama with one hand and a
handkerchief with the other. In a few days it would be Christmas, and new tears
spilled over at the thought of her brothers opening their stockings without her
being there to share their excitement.
‘I’ll
be back,’ she vowed to herself. ‘Not with my tail between my legs but
successful and triumphant. You’ll see.’
The ship was picking up speed now and
the people on the wharf were barely visible. It was time to go and stow her things
away in the cabin she would be sharing with another single girl.
As she walked to the companionway that
led down to the cabin, Mariette struggled to compose herself. She was not going to
be a baby and cry, because the daydream she’d had for years of seeing the
world was a reality now. She was going to cross the equator, go from one
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