‘Hannah! … Hannah!’

It was gratifying to see Joshua and Deborah’s enthusiasm about her reappearance on the beach. Perhaps eleven-year-old boys were not above occasional displays of affection, because Joshua threw his arms around Hannah and gave her a quick, awkward hug then stepped back.

Deborah snatched Charlie doll and hugged him. Because of his soaking in the sea, he was a shade or two darker and a little more of his painted face had washed away, but Deborah neither noticed nor cared.

‘You took so long!’ Joshua’s face was a mixture of relief and annoyance. ‘I was thinking about coming to find you … your face is all red!’

‘The tide was moving faster than I thought, and …’

‘Hannah thmells funny.’ Sniffing loudly, Deborah looked up at her cousin.

Suspicion swamped Joshua’s face.

Oh, no! Just when Hannah thought the afternoon’s disasters were over. How could she explain the odour? Her aunt and uncle would know where she had been. The look of dismay on Joshua’s face told her that such conduct would not be looked upon lightly.

Joshua wouldn’t say anything to his parents. If he did, he’d be in just as much trouble. But Deborah was a different matter. The two older cousins swapped knowing glances, but said nothing aloud that Deborah could repeat, even innocently. Hannah wondered how much she actually understood. She was young for her age, but she wasn’t stupid.

‘Charlie had better not go around there ever again, don’t you agree, Cousin Hannah?’ suggested Joshua.

‘Charlie doesn’t want to.’ Hannah thought about Kurt Oslo’s grimy fingernail tracing lines across the skewered bêche-de-mer; his enjoyment of her discomfort; his animosity towards missionaries—Uncle Henry in particular; his bad manners. She added with emphasis, ‘Not ever.’

‘We’d better go home before Mother comes looking for us.’ Joshua glanced at the greyish clouds which had thickened overhead. ‘And I think it’ll rain.’

The sky did look dark, but how strange to think it would rain when it was this hot. Back home, rain was associated with winter days, chilling winds and a fire in the hearth.

Looking anxious, Joshua turned to leave. ‘If it rains, it will come down suddenly.’

‘Just a moment,’ said Hannah. A close scrutiny of her skirt showed some wrinkles and a sandy edge on the hem, but smoothing it out would accomplish nothing. Her petticoats still felt damp, but no one else could know that. She fidgeted with her collar and tucked her blouse down firmly into the waistband. In lieu of a brush, she ran her fingers through her hair, then deftly plaited it, twisting the ends into a small knot. ‘How do I look?’

Joshua smirked. ‘You’d look better with your boots on.’

‘Oh!’ Hannah looked down at her laddered, sand-covered stockings.

They retraced their steps to the rocky outlet where she had hurled her boots.

‘We’d better check Charlie before he goes home, Deborah,’ she suggested.

‘Hannah! We must go now,’ argued Joshua.

Kneeling on the white sand, Hannah gently slid the doll from Deborah’s gasp. ‘And what about his hair?’ Just as she had done with her own curls, she ran her fingers through the coconut fibres, untangling them. Then she straightened his pink dress, talking as she worked. ‘I’m so glad I rescued Charlie for you, Deborah. He almost went right out to sea—far, far out.’

The little girl’s eyes widened. ‘So far that we would never have seen him again. Or Charlie may have stayed there on a lonely beach, all by himself, forever. With crabs crawling over him …’

‘Hannah!’ Joshua protested but she ignored him.

‘Why, if the tide had washed him out into deep water, a big shark with sharp teeth might even have bitten him … like this …’ She made a chomping motion near the doll’s head with the fingers of one hand.

‘No!’ Deborah snatched back her wooden friend. ‘Charlie’th mine.’

‘Of course he is. We wouldn’t let those horrible things happen, would we? That’s why I was gone so long. Rescuing him. You and Charlie should be together always. But … we have to be careful, Deborah. This must be a secret between you and Charlie.’

Hannah looked up at Joshua and saw that he understood.

‘Deborah … if anyone finds out how naughty Charlie was today, they might send him far away. And you’ll never see him again.’

Deborah stuck out her bottom lip. ‘Joshua and I will help you. We promise never to say a word about today, don’t we Joshua?’

‘Yes, we promise.’

A large drop of rain splashed onto Hannah’s forehead, then another on her nose. ‘Now, you promise, Deborah.’

The little girl nodded.

Hannah took her cousin’s arms in a firm grip. ‘Say the words, I promise.’

‘I promith.’

‘Good girl. Charlie should be safe now …’ Hannah ended her sentence with a gasp as a downpour began. The rain was a solid sheet, as though someone had up-ended a gigantic bucket.

They began to run. Not that it was any use. Within seconds they were soaked to the skin which might earn them a reprimand, but it was safer than smelling of smoke. Hannah charged along the path behind Joshua, Deborah in tow, glad that today was almost over. More things happened here in one day than happened in a month at home, if they would happen at all.

Rain lashed at Hannah’s face, blinding her at times. She wished fervently for a parasol or hat, then a bolt of anxiety shot through her. Earlier this afternoon she had left the house wearing her best sunhat, and now her head was bare. Where had she left her hat?