The Islands (46 page)

‘Hello?'

‘Catherine, it's me. I'm back.'

‘Oh, hi. Back? You mean, back in the Islands?'

‘Where else? I'm in the office. I got a ride back on a military aircraft. Didn't seem much point dragging you out to meet me at the airforce base at Hickham. I've got a few hours work to catch up on. How're you?'

Catherine drew a deep breath. ‘Bradley . . . I'm . . . I've been thinking a lot and I'm sorry, I've come to a decision. About us . . .'

‘What on earth are you talking about? What do you mean, about us? For goodness sake, Catherine, what's going on?'

‘Bradley, this isn't easy. And this isn't sudden. It's been creeping up on me . . . I just can't stay with you. It's not fair to you, I'm just not cut out to be the wife you want . . .'

‘Catherine! For God's sake! What is this rubbish? What are you saying, can't stay with me? Look, I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll borrow a car, something.'

‘I'm sorry, Bradley.'

‘Just stay there!' He was almost shouting.

Catherine tried to tidy herself. She thought she should change her clothes but she also thought for once she didn't want to look neat, pretty and well groomed as Bradley expected his wife to be. She tried to think of different scenarios about what to say and how to explain her feelings, but discarded them. She could only speak from her heart and hope that he would understand.

She sat on the balcony watching Pearl Harbor. Was it a failure on her part that she couldn't be like Julia Bensen and the other wives, who kept the home fires burning, were loyal and faithful and devoted their lives to their husbands' careers? What would they think and say once the word got around? Should she speak to Mrs Goodwin? Catherine quickly discarded that idea.

The front door opened and slammed shut. Bradley walked through the apartment and stood at the door behind her.

‘What the hell is going on?'

Catherine turned around slowly and her heart twisted a little to see him standing there in his uniform, so tall and handsome. But his face was red and angry.

‘I can't go with you to Washington. I can't go anywhere and lead the kind of life you expect me to. I'm suffocating, Bradley. It's not your fault . . .' she burst out.

‘No, it certainly is not. Catherine . . .' He walked towards her but did not reach out to her. But his voice softened, sounding bewildered. ‘This is crazy. You need to see a doctor or someone. What's brought this on? What've I done?'

‘You haven't done anything, Bradley. It's just your life, your career. I see that now. And I know it's not for me.'

‘Nonsense. You knew exactly what you were getting into – you
wanted
this! What's got into you? Don't you love me?'

She paused. ‘I thought I did. You've been so good to me . . . I feel awful, I'm letting you down. But, Bradley, I'm terribly unhappy, I know it's not going to get better, you can't fix this. I think we should finish now, rather than drag it out . . .'

‘Catherine. I love you. You're my wife. This is ridiculous. I go away for a few days and you decide to end our marriage? You're mad!'

‘It's been coming for a while. You know I've never fitted in with the others, with your way of life.'

‘You might have said something, given me some clue that you felt like this. Marriage is a partnership, Catherine,' he said bitterly.

‘I did say things and you treated me like a child.'

‘Look at how you're behaving!'

‘Bradley, what do you want me to do? Call your parents, speak to Mrs Goodwin, pretend I've got some illness and disappear?'

‘Don't you dare mention any of this to anyone. You just come to your senses and get on with things. We'll work this out. I have to go back to Washington. I've already found us a nice place to live. Why don't you go home for a holiday? Have you spoken to your parents?'

When she shook her head, he took this as a good sign and became placatory. ‘You need a holiday. Tell me, what do you want to do?'

‘I don't want to lead you on. I've thought hard about this. We're just not right for each other. We made a mad, terrible mistake.'

‘I didn't make a mistake. I thought I'd found a wife who'd make me happy. Whom I'd make happy. We've been married for such a short time. Give our marriage a chance. I thought you were stronger than this, Catherine.'

‘I am. It's taking a lot of strength to do this.' She turned her head away. ‘A lot of things have shown me that we aren't meant to be together. I'm sorry, Bradley. Sorry and sad.'

He paced around the apartment, shaking his head and wiping a hand over his eyes. ‘I am not going to lower myself to ask if there's someone else. I refuse to believe there could be. If you want to go and stay with those Hawaiian people, then do so. We'll talk about this later. I have to get the car back.' He looked at her with a frown. ‘You are causing a lot of problems, Catherine. I hope you'll have come to your senses by the time I get back. I'm turning around and going straight back to Washington, which is a good thing because I don't care for your company right now.' He strode from the apartment and the door banged behind him.

Catherine let out her breath and spoke to the empty apartment. ‘You don't want to even try to understand, to discuss this. I'm a naughty girl and I'll be punished and then we'll go on as though nothing happened, because then I'll be a good little wife.'

Should she call her parents? They would likely advise her to come home and think things over, or stay and go to Washington, persevere and give her marriage a chance. But now she knew, even more firmly than before, that while leaving was hard, it was the only thing for her to do.

What to do now? She tried to imagine how Bradley must be feeling. He'd had no warning, no time to prepare for this. She had to let him save face. He could say she was working over on Kauai until he had everything set up in Washington, though she supposed other wives would have gone with their husbands to help. But everyone knew that Bradley liked to organise everything so it wouldn't seem too unusual for her to remain in the Islands. She sat on the lanai a little while, then slowly she tidied away her coffee cup. She was about to go out when the phone rang. She knew it was Bradley.

‘Catherine. This is ridiculous. Please collect me as usual and we'll go out to dinner and discuss how we can solve this.'

Short of Bradley quitting his career and changing his personality she couldn't think of a way of solving things, but all she said was, ‘I owe you that. I know it's a shock. I think that this has been building up for months.'

‘Well, you might have given me some inkling! I thought we were perfectly happy.' Bradley sounded confused.

‘You were happy. But it's taken me a while to work out why I feel the way I do.'

‘I suppose it's those friends of yours. I tell you, Catherine, don't consider staying here without me for one moment. The navy will take over the apartment and I will not have my wife wandering around without me.'

‘I thought we were going to discuss things. That's the trouble, Bradley, you just tell me what to do. You never ask what I might want to do.'

‘I have been exceedingly generous and tolerant of your wishes . . . the photo job, gallivanting around with those local people, neglecting your duties, doing exactly what you want.'

Catherine sighed. ‘I suppose you're right. I guess I wasn't prepared to conform, to be like all those other women.'

‘My mother told me this would happen – it's a cultural thing.'

‘What? You told me you loathed all those suburban, superficial, stick-in-the-mud women you'd grown up with, went through college with. You liked the fact I was different,' snapped Catherine.

‘Well, you've certainly changed. You're rebellious, quite non-conformist. It's embarrassing.'

‘This isn't getting us anywhere. Why don't we leave dinner tonight. Let's meet tomorrow. I'll ask Kiann'e if I can stay with her tonight and you can stay here. Let's sleep on things,' said Catherine in a tired voice.

‘Will that change your mind?'

‘No. It won't.'

‘So there's nothing to discuss. Your mind is made up.'

Catherine nodded at the phone and wondered, aren't you going to fight for me? Tell me you love me more than life itself, can't be without me? . . . then stifled the thought. She didn't want that from Bradley. It would only make this all the more difficult. ‘Bradley, there's a lot to discuss. I really want you to understand how I feel.'

‘You knew what you were getting into when you married me.'

‘No, I didn't! It all sounded exotic and romantic and an adventure. Now sometimes I feel like I'm in boarding school! Mrs Goodwin the headmistress, prefects around . . . I'm always being watched, everyone knows everybody else's business. I go to the Wives' Club meetings feeling like I haven't done my homework and I'm going to be punished, kept in after class.'

‘Don't be ridiculous. Perhaps you haven't been pulling your weight like the other women. Perhaps you were too busy chasing around the Islands for that newspaper.'

‘Bradley! It's a job! Only a small, part-time one, but it gives me a sense of fulfillment, gives me a life of my own.'

‘We don't need the money and you have a job – my wife. My career is your career.'

‘For God's sake, it's not the nineteen-fifties, it's the seventies. Women's roles are changing.' Though not in the navy and not quickly enough, Catherine thought to herself.

‘Very well, Catherine. I'll speak to you tomorrow. I will, of course, have to discuss this with Commander Goodwin.'

‘Whatever you think best, though frankly I don't see it's any of his business at this stage. He will, of course, talk to Connie Goodwin and then everyone on Base will know. Is that what you want?'

‘Well, I guess that can't be helped. And you do realise, there will be no sympathy or help for you. You go down this path and you're on your own, Catherine.'

‘I'll speak to you tomorrow, Bradley. All I can say is I am so, so sorry. I loved you, I thought my life would be different. Hawaii is beautiful and being a naval wife isn't always going to be as nice as here. This makes me realise that if I can't be happy here as an adjunct to your career I certainly won't be happy doing it anywhere else.'

‘You should just go back to your country town, Catherine. That's where you really belong.' He hung up the phone.

‘Kiann'e? It's Catherine. Yes, yes, he's back. But there's a problem. I need to get away from Bradley for a while. I was wondering if I could come over and stay with you tonight?'

‘Of course. Oh dear. I'm sorry. Anything Willi and I can do, just shout. Do you want to come over now?'

‘I'll come over later this afternoon if that's all right.'

‘Come when you want, stay as long as you want. If you want to talk, or not, that's fine too.'

An hour later Catherine had packed her clothes and a few favourite treasures, her photographs, camera and notebooks, into two suitcases. She lugged them downstairs, making sure that no-one was around, put them into the car and drove off. She wanted to see PJ and Lester before going to Kiann'e's.

PJ was busy planing a board. When he realised that Catherine was standing watching him he turned it off, pulled the handkerchief from over his mouth and looked at her for a moment before asking,

‘How are things?'

Catherine shrugged. ‘Hard. I've told Bradley that I'm leaving him. He didn't have a clue about how I was feeling. I suppose I should have said something earlier. But he doesn't understand how smothered my life is . . . and will continue to be if I stay with him and be a navy wife.'

‘Mmm. So what are you going to do?'

‘A bit unsure. I'm trying to talk to him. He's not being very understanding. Defensive, which is not surprising. For the moment I told him I'd go and stay with Kiann'e . . .'

PJ nodded. ‘Good idea. You do what you think best. Do what you want to do, Catherine.' He ran his hands over the board he was working on.

Do what you want to do. Was that what she wanted? That was the crux of the issue – her freedom.

‘I suppose there have always been expectations for me. That I'd get married. Be someone's wife. I had a few months in London with a bunch of girlfriends and then I met Bradley. But since being here, knowing you lot, sharing things, trying new things, it's made me realise how sheltered my life has been.'

‘You don't have to do what other people say. You can find your own way and not lean on, or be led, by others,' said PJ. ‘You'll know when you've found your place in the world. Standing on your own two feet . . . that's what it's all about, isn't it?'

‘Yes. I suppose so. Scary though.'

He smiled at her. ‘You're stronger than you think. And you deserve more. I'm not encouraging you or influencing you, just telling it like it is. But if you're around, hey, I'm here.'

‘I know. I feel I've got a bit out of practice making my own decisions, but I feel good that I can start doing that now.'

She left PJ and drove over to see Lester.

‘To what do I owe the pleasure of an afternoon visit? I just had a nap. Glass of OJ?'

‘How about we go out for afternoon tea, Lester? Tea and cake or sandwiches at the Moana.'

His face lit up. ‘I'd like that. You're a good buddy, Catherine.'

Impulsively Catherine hugged him. ‘I love yarning with you, Lester. C'mon, a trade, you tell me some more stories of the old days around Waikiki and I'll treat us.'

‘You gotta deal, sweetie.'

Lester had swept her along with his stories of the Waikiki beach boys, the early days of tourism, the growing popularity of surfing and the characters who had washed ashore on the Islands. There was one uncomfortable, or odd, moment when he asked about her husband coming back from sea and Catherine answered, ‘Bradley just arrived back. But he's leaving for Washington in a few days – a desk job at the Pentagon.'