The Islands (25 page)

Catherine acknowledged the irony behind her remark. ‘Yes. I suppose I am but, of course, it's only the younger wives who're interested.'

Although Kiann'e had refused to help with the show her aunt and uncle were more than happy to organise the luau. It was held down near the beach on the recreation grounds. Unfortunately, Uncle Henry ended up having to do kalua pig on a spit as they weren't allowed to dig the imu pit and roast the food in the traditional way because they were on naval land, but no-one seemed to mind.

The husbands and single men who'd been coerced into coming along had a ball. The food was delicious, the cheerful banter of Aunty Lani, Uncle Henry and nephew Albert made the evening a wonderful success. Catherine realised it was probably the first time many of these naval people had met the locals socially. However Mrs Goodwin couldn't help bossing and trying to run things. She started to treat Aunty Lani as staff, but Aunty Lani was quick to assert herself in a friendly manner.

‘Now then, don't you try and tell me when we eat, ma'am. When the kau kau ready, we eat. You sit back and enjoy yourself.'

Catherine had designed the invitations and insisted that everyone wear Hawaiian dress. Mrs Goodwin had made a token effort but the young wives, armed with Kiann'e's directions, were all in attractive muu-muus and holomuus and looked stunning.

After the food had been served onto paper plates everyone found a seat on the grass or on collapsible chairs, or spread themselves out on mats or just stood around the bar to watch the show.

Bradley stood at the back with Commander Goodwin feeling rather embarrassed that Catherine had instigated the event. But he could see there was a good turn out and the occasion would probably raise an excellent sum to go to some charity that the Wives' Club had agreed on. While it was rather casual, the food was certainly tasty and people seemed to be having a good time.

Commander Goodwin nudged him, ‘I'm a bit apprehensive at how the evening's entertainment might go. I don't like our ladies making a spectacle of themselves.'

‘Not many here outside the Navy,' said Bradley, glancing round at all the familiar faces.

One of the single junior officers had got into the spirit of the night and created an uproar when he appeared in a long colourful muu-muu, worn with his navy regulation shoes, and flower headdress to compere the show.

‘Aloha, ladies and gentlemen, Commander and Mrs Goodwin! Welcome to the Whacky Wahines Spectacular. They dance for your pleasure, to enchant and entertain you – and for a great cause.' He cued Albert who was running the tape deck and the slack key Hawaiian guitar crackled through the loudspeaker as the line-up of wives, led by Catherine, walked demurely to the centre of the stage area on the grass. They were all dressed in matching long holomuus in red and white, made by one of the women handy with a sewing machine. They also wore white and cream leis threaded with green fern and matching hair crowns, organised for them by Kiann'e. There was a moment of stunned silence as the audience realised how lovely they looked. They stood in a line, hands lowered to one side, eyes downcast as the music and lyrics of ‘A Little Brown Gal in a Little Grass Shack' began. They went into their now well-rehearsed routine.

The audience loved it and applauded madly. The performers went through their repertoire and while some were not as rhythmic or as graceful as Hawaiian dancers, they were all enthusiastic and kept together well enough. Bradley was quite surprised, not only at how tasteful it all was but at what a good and natural Hawaiian dancer Catherine was. She was undoubtedly the star of the show, the leader of the troupe, and her lessons with Kiann'e had certainly paid off.

‘I'm rather impressed,' murmured Commander Goodwin to Bradley when the dancers had finished.

There were calls for an encore before the compere appeared to ask for a final thank you for the Wacky Wahines.

‘So what are we going to do next, Catherine?' asked Julia. ‘This has been such fun.'

‘Oh, I thought a cooking course combining the foods of Hawaii and the customs of traditional feasts,' she said flippantly.

‘Great!' came a chorus. ‘Sounds good.'

Catherine laughed, but then realised they'd taken her seriously. She thought she'd better talk to Aunty Lani and Kiann'e about doing something that might be more rewarding – for both the American women and the Hawaiian society they were surrounded by.

‘Yes, it was a bit of fun,' agreed Bradley when they got home. ‘But it should remain a one-off performance.'

‘The ladies want me to get something else happening.'

‘That's nice. I'm pleased to see you're having some fun with the other wives. But tread carefully, Catherine. Be aware of our position, there is something of a hierarchy and you don't want to step on any toes. I'm not entirely sure that Mrs Goodwin and some of the other senior ladies were as enthusiastic as you are. And perhaps not too much emphasis on Hawaiiana? You are new to the Islands yourself, remember.'

‘Yes, Bradley. I know that, which is why I'm keen to learn as much as I can about this place.'

He took her in his arms. ‘It's good you're keeping busy. The Commander told me tonight I'll be going to sea in seven days.'

With the knowledge of looming separation, Bradley made love to her, murmuring, ‘This is nice. We should do it more often!' And was soon asleep.

Catherine felt emotionally confused. She knew that she would miss Bradley while he was away at sea, but it had also occurred to her that their sex life had become a bit predictable and a bit too intermittent. There wasn't the heat, rush or passion of the stolen moments that they'd shared in the beginning. She hoped that after the enforced break the romance would return.

 

Extract from The Biography of

THE WATERMAN

The young man was swimming in a blue lagoon surrounded by rocks where a channel led to deeper water and a reef. Palm trees leant overhead and all looked idyllic. Then there was a splash. The young man thrashed, disappearing beneath the surface as if yanked by a large hand. In seconds he resurfaced, wildly throwing punches at the dark triangular fin beside him.

Over and over they rolled, lean, tanned arms grasping the long, grey shape, lethal jaws momentarily flashing above the water as the young man jabbed at the evil narrow eyes and then, pulling a knife from his waist, slashed and stabbed until his enemy sank from sight, wounded and dying.

With his knife between his teeth the young man swam to the beach and staggered onto the shore and, wearing only a torn loincloth, slumped onto the sand.

‘Cut!'

‘Great, great. Somebody rescue the shark, for gosh sake.'

A man in a plaid shirt wearing a straw hat and carrying a megaphone walked onto the sand. Behind him stood a group of people, around them were power cables, large lights, several canvas chairs and on a tripod sat a movie camera shaded by a large umbrella.

A girl ran forward and handed the young man a towel. He wiped his face and dark orange make-up stained the towel. As he strode up the beach the star of the film, Ramon Navarro, lounging in a chair with his name on the back, gave him a brief salute.

‘You sure killed that monster.'

The young man laughed with everyone else as the props man hauled the dead rubber shark onto the sand.

The day's work over, the young man showered, rinsing off the extra skin colour, wishing he could remove the black dye from his hair. He was mentally adding up the days he'd worked and he realised that though it was boring, it was easy work and good money.

Again, a guardian angel had stepped from the wings to rescue him just when he was wondering where his next meal was coming from. He realised that while the Olympic Games might have brought him some fame, they had not brought him money. He'd been back on lifeguard duty at Santa Monica beach when a young woman with an expensive camera had asked to take his picture. He had figured this was as good an approach as any. Girls and women often hung around with him on some pretext or other.

But she had been quite professional, asking him to pose against the rescue boat. She had asked him to lift his chin and stare into the distance to show off his firm jawline and aquiline nose. Then she'd asked him to pose in his swimming shorts with a surfboard. The young man had never tried one of the boards that a few people were bringing to the beach, but he borrowed a narrow-tailed redwood board and stood against it and then, for fun, he laid it on the sand and did a handstand on it.

He'd thought no more about the pictures until the girl reappeared and handed him a card with the name of a Hollywood studio printed on it and asked him to come and audition for a bit part and for work as a movie stand-in. He found the screen test an odd experience, posing, turning side to side, reacting to directions and showing a range of expressions. But whatever he did they must have liked it because here he was in Cape Florida acting the part of a south seas native, his skin darkened with make-up, the muscles on his arms and torso oiled, his hair dyed black.

The story was about a missionary who arrived in the Islands with his comely daughter, played by silent-screen star Alice Terry in a blonde wig, who falls in love with the handsome son of a native chief, Ramon Navarro. However she is also courted by a rough bar owner who forsakes his coarse trade, closes his saloon and finds salvation thanks to her father. She realises that she cannot marry either of these men and so she catches the steamer back to America leaving the chief's son broken hearted and he flings himself over a waterfall.

The young man thought the whole story rather silly, but he played his small role, collected his pay and returned to Santa Monica.

Over the next six months he was called back to the studio for other small parts and some stunt work. He remained unimpressed with the shallowness of the film world and if he hadn't needed the money he wouldn't have bothered with it. He continued to swim and exercise, and through his coach at the club he was introduced to a new health regime where he was encouraged to eat fruit and vegetables and develop his muscles along the lines of dynamic tension devised by health promoter Charles Atlas.

His legs became muscular and his arms strong but his physique was well proportioned – a smooth, golden, hairless chest, tanned legs. His thick, fair, sun-streaked hair was tousled, falling over his forehead unless tamed and slicked back with hair oil. Blue eyes, long sandy lashes and a wide shy smile with white teeth all helped make him an eye-catching, superb figure of a man.

With his white drill pants rolled above his ankles, bare feet and long-sleeved white cotton-knit crew-neck sweater, he had a style of studied beach casualness. And while he was a modest and shy young man around people, preferring to keep his own company, there were always admiring women around him at the beach. Nevertheless, he remained self-absorbed, not ready to step into a world that included other people who might put demands on him. He was still to find what made him truly happy and complete.

8

C
ATHERINE STOOD ON HER
small lanai looking at Pearl Harbor – clear, blue, clean. She sipped her tea, proper strong black Australian tea that her mother had sent. It was her first morning without Bradley and she was trying to assess how she felt.

The previous day he'd said a private goodbye to her in the garden outside their apartment where no-one could see them. He'd hugged her tightly and gave her a long hard kiss. Then he had put on his cap and walked across the clipped green lawn to join two other officers to drive to their ship.

‘It gets a bit chaotic at the dock, some of the women get emotional, best we say our farewells in private,' he told her.

‘I'd quite like to see the ship leave,' said Catherine who was rather disappointed by this quiet goodbye.

‘You'll see us go through the harbour from the apartment,' smiled Bradley. ‘Bird's eye view.'

It felt strange to be alone in the apartment knowing that she had it to herself for weeks to come with no Bradley, no meals to cook for him, no commitments apart from her own routine. But she enjoyed her busy life and she felt settled and happy in Hawaii.

She looked forward to her swim with Kiann'e each morning. It was different from
Heatherbrae
where most mornings she leapt from bed and pulled on jeans to go for an early morning ride on Parker. Now her daily swim cleared her head, invigorated her and allowed her to plan her day. She knew she would hate the way Mollie's day began with a shrill alarm, a gulped tea and quick piece of toast and a race to catch the bus into the city.

She was thankful Bradley didn't eat breakfast, made his own coffee the way he liked it and sent his uniform to the cleaners. Nor did he object when Catherine had explained how much she valued her early mornings at the beach in the shadow of Diamond Head where the sand was unmarked, the water warm, crystal clear and calm and always so inviting. She looked forward to coffee with Lester, planning her photo essay for the paper, thinking about her duties with the Wives' Club and deliberating on what to prepare for dinner. The company of Kiann'e was a bonus. They didn't intrude on each other's tranquillity until, refreshed and heading back towards Lester's apartment, they would begin to chat.