 
### Table of Contents

Title Page

Acknowledgments

By the Same Author

Chapter 1: Tragedy and Hope

Chapter 2: Adoption, Changes

Chapter 3: The American Way

Chapter 4: A Different Life

Chapter 5: A Frightening Experience

Chapter 6: An Awful New Existance

Chapter 7: Unexpected Events

Chapter 8: Danger in a New Venture

Chapter 9: War Brings Changes

Chapter 10: Memories; Escaping

Chapter 11: A Missionary Helps

Chapter 12: Rescued – New Experiences

Chapter 13: Attacked – Discoveries

Chapter 14: A Wonderful Period

Chapter 15: An End and a Beginning

Chapter 16: Revealing Needs

Chapter 17: Following Her Heart

Chapter 18: Revelations; Decisions

Chapter 19: Benefits and Surprises

Chapter 20: Family; Recognition

Chapter 21: New Ideas, Fun and Death

Chapter 22: A Surprise and Decisions

Chapter 23: Destiny Is Unpredictable

About the Author

Copyright Statement
THE THREE

LIVES OF

ONE

Lesley June Mooney

This is an IndieMosh book

brought to you by MoshPit Publishing  
an imprint of Mosher's Business Support Pty Ltd

PO BOX 147  
Hazelbrook NSW 2779

<http://www.indiemosh.com.au/>

Copyright 2017 © Lesley June Mooney

All rights reserved

**Licence Notes**

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favourite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted by any person or entity, in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, scanning or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the author and publisher.

**Disclaimer**

This story is entirely a work of fiction.

No character in this story is taken from real life. Any resemblance to any person or persons living or dead is accidental and unintentional.

The author, their agents and publishers cannot be held responsible for any claim otherwise and take no responsibility for any such coincidence.

### ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

With many thanks to my five daughters, who offered much help and sustenance for my well-being; also my dear, longtime friend June, who gave me encouragement and optimistic belief in my ability to follow my dreams.

Please note that parts of this story   
may be considered controversial.

##### BY THE SAME AUTHOR

_-1- Fire in the Heart_

_-2- Beyond Sun and Shadows_

## Early 1920s

##### CHAPTER 1

#### TRAGEDY AND HOPE

For more than six days cyclonic rain had been falling along the coastline of a small island near the village of Buka, East of Vanua in the Fijian groups. Out at sea, a strong earthquake registered deep within the depths of the undersea trench which caused the ocean to rise in a series of high undulating waves stretching out across the bluish-grey water. At first when young Ranua heard the strange noise, he ran outside of his family hut to stare out across the ocean. His brown eyes suddenly filled with fright when seeing the huge size and strange appearance of the swollen grey sea as it surged ominously towards the island. Unaware of why this was happening, his young mind was gripped with fear, as he had never seen the waters like this before.

Frightened he called out a warning to his Mother, 'Mumou, Mumou, come see, come see.'

His mother appeared at the door and looked to where he was pointing. Immediately shocked at what she could see and with her native beliefs in the island legends of their powerful gods, she instantly decided that the gods of the sea were angry, sending the sea devils to punish them. By then the oncoming waves seemed so dangerous and fearful, it frightened her, and she told her eleven year old son Ranua, 'Go, go Ranua. There are very bad, big demons in the water. Hurry, hurry, and take your little sister to the high land. I will quickly warn 'Makyu' my sister and her family, then we'll follow you.'

Stepping outside her hut she screamed out a warning to her family, knowing this may be too late. The high frightening waves were so close, not far from the beach below their hut.

Believing his mother Ranua quickly pulled his little sister up into his arms from where she was playing, which upset her, and she cried out 'Mumou', but Ranua ignored her call. He ran hastily, his sturdy legs crossing the rising ground, his sister's face pressed against his shoulder, her eyes closed tightly as she clung to him. Reaching the trees far up the slope, he kissed her on the forehead, and pushed, roughly shoving her up into the safety of a high thick branch of the tall, bushy island tree.

With fear in his voice and speaking loudly he told her, 'Climb higher Tula, hurry, climb higher and hang on tightly, I have to go back for Mumou.' He watched as she took hold, scrabbling up the rough bark to the next branch.

Turning to leave, he heard her frightened voice call out to him 'Ranua', but he stumbled down the hill to find his mother at this terrible time, for she had not yet come behind him.

Gaining height and strength while rushing onwards towards all the islands and far beyond, the menacing great wave swept inwards across the wide ocean. Along with the rising high tide, the waters of this oncoming Tsunami advanced in a line of deadly arched ridges, moving very quickly towards the mainland coastlines, with swirling destructive currents. The relentless, frightening wave of blue-green, topped with curling edges of frothing foam approached the quiet coast with hardly any warning. The main force hit land and islands across this Pacific area and continued over to other nearby countries, engulfing the sandy beaches, banks and palm trees, and eroding the coastline.

Throughout it all, up in the tree Tula closed her eyes, pressing her face against the thick branch, fiercely clinging on with her arms, hands and little legs. Trembling with fear, she remembered her brother's words, and cried as the winds pulled at her little body. She stayed there her arms around the wet branch, while the waters below covered the land below. The roar of the grey foam crested waves is deafening to her ears, and the grip of her arms began to weaken as she clung to the tree. The roaring sounds of the almost total destruction were so frightening Tula was afraid to let go, not aware of what was happening below and around her. Throughout it all, she still cried out for her mother, her voice and her strength fading away.

Tearfully she called for her mother, 'Mumou. Mumou,' but there was no reply. Trembling her heart beating fast, tears rolled down her cheeks.

Trees torn from their roots crashed down on everything below, and were carried along by the dangerous waves with the debris, in its insistent urge to destroy buildings, animals, nature and all human life. The savage winds tore at all the exposed areas, as with an enormous surge the waters inundated the surrounding country. Distressed men and frantic women with children shouted warnings to their families, and visitors ran everywhere, trying to escape this watery death. Terrified villagers fleeing from their flimsy huts screamed as they desperately pulled children into their arms running fearfully for their lives. Many separated, and were either knocked down or forgotten in the rush of frantic bodies.

Some were able to make their way up into the forest, reaching the nearest high land to save themselves. Climbing and crawling up hillsides behind the village to escape this watery maelstrom, they left behind their lifelong possessions. Huts collapsed as wild water surged through them, taking their possessions, along with ruins, buildings, trees and street rubbish. The scene was harrowing. Those unable to fight the torrent were carried away tangled in branches and broken timbers. Most of the villagers lost entire families in this terrible disaster along with thousands of people on the surrounding islands. The terrifying noises of the complete annihilation of the island were horrendous. The tormented cries of the population echoed, then faded, when huge tons of vicious water crush homes and rainforests with deadly accuracy, annihilating everything in its path.

Hours later Tula opened her eyes, and distressed at what she saw below her, she crawled down the tree and stood beside the trunk shivering. Her feet were standing in the pool of water left lying around the trees' roots as the tide subsided. Crying she was unaware of where her family had gone when the waters rose across the country, and her tears combined with dust from where she had been playing earlier. There were scratches on her pale olive skin from the rough bark, and her whole body quivered with distress. Wet, and tired she wept, too scared to move.

In that year of 1928, an older missionary Albert Tucker and his wife Ellen who were holidaying on the southern end of the island heard the unusual sounds of the advancing Tsunami. Going out on the patio to investigate the sound and unaware of what this meant, they noticed other residents hastily moving outside and up the slopes behind the resort. No-one explained to them why, but aware there may be danger, they quickly followed them around the hotel to the back area. Both awkwardly climbed up the rough slope to take refuge with the others on the high hilltop. There they sat down and listened, staying there until the noise ceased. An unusual, deadly silence engulfed the entire land, so Albert decided to inspect what may have occurred. His wife followed behind around the edges of the ocean, and they could see far along the beach the remains of natives' huts and other main lodgings. Even their hotel appeared to be wrecked or damaged, as were the villages on the nearby ocean beaches stretching around towards the end of the island.

They wanted to have a better look at that side of the island, in case they could help, and gathering up their few necessities into a bundle they proceeded around there. All they could see everywhere was the terrible devastation left behind as the waters receded. The older couple walked along the higher edge of the muddied water above the washed out remains of a road, looking for survivors. Some villagers who were dragged out by the wave and still trying to come ashore, struggled against the powerful ocean current, and seeing this, Albert attempted to push out into the swirling waters to help. Holding out his hands to some, they were unable to grasp his fingers as the strong pressure of the receding tidal waves pulled them back into the ocean. Trying again and failing, he stood there, despair on his face.

'Albert dear, God knows you have done your best,' Ellen cried out to him. 'It's beyond you, please give up.'

He stopped then paused, upon hearing a faint but feeble cry and looked along the ruined beach, then further up past the sodden stands of trees. There above him on the hill slope near clumps of bent and broken trees, he noticed a little village girl standing. Albert held his wife's arm pointing up the hill.

'Look Ellen look. There's a small child up on the slope and we must try to help her!'

Water immersed the little girls' ankles as it escaped down to the sea, and she clung fearfully to a low hanging branch. Distraught, she cried out for her mother, clothing grubby, tears running down her wet dirty face which seemed lost. They both waded up along the beach through the muddy water towards the child, but as they neared, she noticed them and withdrew. Sensing her fear Ellen was the first to approach, slowly lowering her body down to her level to stroke the child's cheek.

Dirty torn clothes, covered with dulled patches clung to her thin body and her short brown hair was a tangled mess. Her eyes darted from side to side, her body and hands quivered as she trembled seeing these strangers, and whimpers sounded from her small mouth.

Ellen spoke quietly to her husband. 'I will talk to her first, she is too frightened. There you are dear, come with us, we will help you,' she said, sensing the terror in her tear-filled eyes.

The little girl did not move, just pointed her brown fingers down the beach murmuring in a weak soft voice, 'Mumou, Mumou.'

Albert attempted to pick her up, but she screamed and struggled to free herself, as Albert stepped back, his hands over his ears. Ellen tried again taking hold of the child in her arms, whispering gently to her, realising this child could not understand English. She hoped the soothing sound of her voice would calm her fears.

'Shush, dear child, we are good people and will take you out away from the water and look after you. Shush,' she whispered, 'You will be safe and we will look for your 'mumou' later on.'

Ellen began to hum a tune as the child slowly settled, but still trembled, so when rising, Ellen lifted her up passing her across to Albert who was much stronger. The enormity of the recent disaster finally took its toll, and the child clung nervously to Albert's shoulder as they walked through the retreating waters with Ellen carrying their own bundles. Twisted drowned bodies lay in the mud all around them, so Ellen covered the child's face to avoid distressing her, but Tula's mind was distant, unaware of everything as her eyes closed. Villagers who survived the destruction sat back on the slope, despair on their faces, not knowing what to do. Homes, families and entire lives were gone, swept away in the surging waters. The scene was one never to be forgotten!

Albert and Ellen continued far along the broken road towards the higher ground in the centre of what was once the village, dragging their weary bodies along. With the little girl still hanging onto Alberts shoulder, they found groups of the villagers huddled under the trees for shelter. They sat down, placing the little girl gently on the ground as Ellen still held her hand, and they stayed there to rest for a while. The child sat with utter confusion on her face, but no-one approached them. All were stunned by this terrible event, and it seemed no-one noticed or was searching for this little girl. Hours later when they had regained their strength, the missionaries left the shelter of the trees to find help.

With the child now rested and willing to slowly walk beside them, they continued quite a long way, until they found a rescue station situated on a safer part of the northern coast. Here Albert spoke to the authorities in charge, asking about the people in the village they had left. They found that the family of the little girl and hundreds more drowned when the Tsunami flooded the villages. The two missionaries discussed the problem and realized they would have to take this motherless child with them, as Ellen refused to leave her behind with no-one to care for her. Offered a ride in an official rescue vehicle as darkness was falling, and hours later at the nearest town they checked in with the Australian Embassy. There, after enquiries were made, they were informed that they can look after this little orphaned child now and on their return to Australia. Their own belongings were destroyed, left behind on the southern side, so as soon as possible, they left for their home in Darwin, Northern Australia. Now a new life began for this little girl in another country.

Once the minister Albert Tucker and his wife arrived back to their parish in Darwin in the Northern Territory, they made more enquiries. There they were told they could become temporary carers of this very young girl whom they named 'Patches', because of the patched clothing she was wearing. She was very timid and shy, unable to tell them her real name or who her family were, and their knowledge of her language was very limited.

The minister said to his wife, 'We will take care of her for now, until other arrangements can be made, and perhaps after more time she might learn to speak some English correctly.'

When bathed and given clean clothing, they found this little girl with pale olive skin, big dark eyes and soft brown curly hair, seemed to be about five years old, though they could not be certain. It took a while until she settled into her new surroundings, and at first, she did not speak at all, often clinging to Ellen. Timid and shy for many months until she felt at ease with these two kind loving people, she often murmured softly to them in her natural language. Sitting on the floor she would call out 'Mumou, mumou', her eyes sad.

Ellen felt so sorry for her when Patches stared at them, not understanding what they were saying. Finally a few months later, she was able to remember certain words, and soon afterwards her English words improved quite a lot. Often when Ellen spoke to her, Patches would murmur the word 'Tula', when looking up to Ellen.

One day Ellen exclaimed, 'Albert I do believe she is trying to tell me something. Perhaps that word she speaks could be her name.'

She clapped her hands with delight and the little child laughed at her for the first time since arriving there. Now becoming more used to their loving nature, soon little gestures made her laugh or giggle at them, and often she'd pretend Ellen was her mother and call her Mumou. She would stand still, take Ellen's hand and pretend to take some steps as in a dance.

'See, see, Mumou you try this too,' she would suggest, and watch and laugh as Ellen clumsily tried to copy her.

'Are you happy now dear? See, I am dancing with you.'

'It is good Mumou, you are good,' and she'd giggle at her.

Patches began to attend kindergarten school run by Albert's church, going to the services with them sitting there quietly, still unaware why she was there. Ellen tried to explain the story of the Lord God, the Virgin Mary and Jesus, and some of the commandments to her as best as she could. She brought Patches a lovely little book with pictures, which did help the child understand things a little better. She would sit cross-legged on the mat and in a sweet voice she'd sing in her native tongue, and they listened to her, smiling with pleasure. Still shy and gentle and always obedient, she would look at them with those big brown eyes, and their hearts overflowed with love for her.

One evening, months later when sitting on the floor cross legged, she suddenly began to whisper quietly in a sing song voice to Ellen, while looking up at her, 'Mumou, mummy, Tula love you. Mumou mummy love Tula too.'

Ellen was so moved at the words the child had spoken that tears filled her eyes as she stroked her hair. Her heart ached so for this precious little girl.

She mentioned this to Albert and he said, 'When Patches was saying 'Tula', perhaps she was trying to tell us about her name or family,' and Ellen agreed but asked, 'Will we call her Tula now, and not Patches?'

'Perhaps not yet dear, she may not understand why,' he replied.

A year passed, and the Minister soon knew that Patches would have to be legally fostered or adopted into a family. Being a minister of the Church, he and Ellen were informed they were considered too old to become permanent parents. Not being able to keep her much longer as church finances were limited, they reluctantly made enquiries around the town. Two members of their parish came forward, a well-spoken European business gentleman Pieter Montarro and his wife Naomi.

'We have no children of our own and would be delighted to take this sweet little girl into our lives.' Pieter said smiling.

Several years earlier Pieter and Naomi Montarro had arrived from Europe where he held many business interests over there, here in Darwin, and down in Eastern Australia. His wife Naomi, with a soft cultured voice and a patient gentle nature had been a well-known musician in Austria before they were married. Unable to have children, they wanted to foster this little girl as soon as they could, quite sure she would be very welcome into their home and hearts. The fact that she was an islander made no difference to them, as she simply needed a loving home which they could give her.

When they arrived to pick her up, Ellen the minister's wife commented to Naomi. 'We have heard this child mention the word 'Tula' a few times, but were unsure what it meant. Maybe it was the name given by her mother. We often wondered, but we still call her Patches.'

Naomi thought about this, soon deciding later to call the child Patchula, as she considered the name of Patches was unacceptable to them. She thought this name was really good, a combination of both Tula and Patches. The young girl was upset at going away from the home she was used to, and when leaving she hung onto Ellen's arm not wanting to let go.

Tearfully she cried out, 'Patches love you, but Tula sad, not go away. Patches stay with you.'

Ellen hugged the child and stroked her dark curls. 'We will miss you, and always love you so much dear. Remember these nice people will love you too!'

Taking the few clothes and toys they had given her, she sadly murmured, 'Bye, bye mother mumou, will Tula ever see you again?' and these words nearly broke Ellen's heart, but she knew this was for the best.

Hugging Albert who just stood there, he remembered how they had first found her and his hands trembled when waving goodbye to her. Uncertain of this new couple, she turned towards the modern looking car she was to leave in, and Naomi opened the door for Patches to enter. The interior with its dark leather seats looked very shiny and new and as the door closed behind her, she placed her hands on the glass, looking out, speaking softly, 'Bye bye, mother mumou, and Albert.'

The motor started moving slowly away from the life she had known for just over a year, but where she had found love and security, and her small hands waved to them until they became more distant. She sat back quietly as the car took her to a lovely house further on the over side of the town, but she neither spoke or moved as her heart felt sad. Palm trees lined the driveway, and at the spot where they parked their vehicle Patches took her first look at her new home as she climbed out.

Inside this big house she found it was very different to the minister's home, with a lovely room for her furnished with pretty curtains framing the windows. There many rooms with books to read, lots of furniture and a lovely garden to play in. Birds flew in and around the trees there, and very soon she loved to watch them all the time. Overwhelmed with everything that was happening, she spent a lot of time in her new room over the next few weeks, getting accustomed to this new life with these loving people.

After a while the little girl approached Naomi and shyly asked, 'Are you my real Mumou now, forever?'

'Why yes, darling child, and Pieter is your Daddy now. What names do you wish to call us?'

'Tula not have a da-ddy, only Mumou and brother Ranua,' she replied softly in halting words.

'Don't worry darling. It is very sad you have lost your family, but soon you will get to know us, as we are your new family.'

Not certain this little girl understood what she was saying, Naomi hugged her, waiting for a reply. Patches just looked at Naomi with her sad brown eyes, placed her hand on Naomi's breast and a finger on her mouth, as no words needed to be said. Often she would look at them as they spoke, trying to understand them, shaking her head if confused. It only took a few weeks for her to remember and know her new name of Patchula. Then she seemed happier, even beginning to smile at them. Naomi was concerned that this child did not speak of her father, though having lost her mother and brother, but was thankful she was accepting them as her parents and gradually changing. Arrangements were made for her to attend the local school in first grade to help her improve her language skills, and the normal schoolwork for her age.

Pieter and Naomi were members of the local church where the Minister and Ellen were in residence, so every Sunday when attending the services, she'd rush up and hug them, talking of her new life.

'Do you know I have an-other name now', it is Pat-chu-la,' she said struggling to pronounce the long word.

Ellen smiled at this dear child she loved, 'Yes my dear. It is a lovely name and soon you will be able to say it properly.'

Patchula tipped her head on the side, looked up at Ellen. 'Will you please come and see me one day. Is it not too far?'

The Minister nodded at her, and holding her hands looked into her eyes. 'We will try, but remember my sweet child, wherever you are, you will always be in our hearts, forever.'

Patches felt so much happier now and smiled at the Minister and his wife as she walked over to her new parents to sit beside them in the pews.

### CHAPTER 2

#### ADOPTION, CHANGES

The new father Pieter was a caring but strict man, especially about some rules. After a few weeks he took her aside one morning to sit her on a chair opposite, and quietly explained as she looked up into his face.

'Patchula dear, there are some important rules you need to know and not forget. These may be hard for you to remember, but necessary for all of us. So please take notice.'

'Firstly, never wander away from our home unless accompanied by us, or someone you know.'

'Secondly, do not speak to any strangers without asking for proof of their identities.' He paused to see if she was listening.

She nodded, 'Yes father. What does 'iden-ti-ty' mean?'

He explained it to her in a simple way, and Patches tried to remember his words. 'Thirdly, as I often work in the study, please do not make too much noise inside. I would rather you play quietly in your room, or do this outside.'

'Fourthly, you must pay attention to your music and singing lessons which you are being taught, and I am sure you do enjoy them.'

Being attentive, Patchula endeavoured to recall these many rules. She would often stand still for a while and shake her head, closing her eyes to think. Soon words would stay in her mind if she thought about them, repeating them often enough. Naomi his wife became quite fond of this new little girl and wanted to adopt her legally, and her husband understood. He also cared for the shy child who had won their hearts so easily, and he agreed for this to take place as soon as possible.

Adoption of an Island child was not so easy because of the present legal conditions and the laws of Australia. Very soon, they were informed that previously on October the 20th of the year 1927, the Child Welfare Department in Sydney had issued an invitation for parents to adopt some children, to ease the burden on the present institutions available. This news was greeted with great delight by Pieter and Naomi Montarro, who proceeded to apply for the adoption of Patches, whom they estimated by now could be almost six years old as there was no way her age could be determined. It was decided that her birthday would be on the day she was officially adopted, so from that day on she became the age of six years old. This made it easier for Pieter and Naomi, and of course for Patchula as she grew. Being an Islander was no hurdle for them to go ahead, so a short time later they signed the necessary papers. She was named Patchula Tia Montarro, the Tia being Naomi's mother's name, though the nickname of Patches still seemed to stay in her mind.

Her knowledge of the English language improved tremendously and a very soon she could speak it much more clearly. At seven years of age, her school was changed and there she met children of all ages and nationalities. This made her so excited she would run into the school grounds, eager to play with the others.

The third day there, she turned around to Naomi calling out happily 'Mumou, mumou, come and play with us, it is so nice to do this.'

Naomi nodded that she couldn't just then, but smiled as she said to her, 'My darling, those are your friends waiting for you, go ahead and play with them. I have to return home now and will see you later on.'

Patchula would put her head on the side give her a smile, wave, and go to join her friends. Sometimes she would seem disappointed, but became used to Naomi having to go home. One of the teachers Robin, who taught the younger children, had taken a fancy to this sweet brown-eyed child, often coming around to the house talking to her, and helping with her school-work.

Patches liked Robin, and asked her questions about the subjects she had to take at school. 'Why are we learning about these Robin?' pointing to the numbers on the page.

Robin laughed, 'Well dear, learning numbers is necessary to be a good student. Don't you wish to be one?'

'I guess, but sometimes they are hard. Do we have to like them?' she asked?

'No dear, but I'm sure one day as you grow up they will help you,'

'Maybe, but I would rather sing. That is nicer and much easier.'

Robin agreed as she had heard her singing, and later she told Naomi. 'You never know. One day, Patchula may have a great future with her voice.'

Naomi smiled and agreed, 'Perhaps she will surprise us one day.'

Life was beginning to be settled and happy for her, while answering to her new name, though she preferred 'Patches' her first one. Her parents would drive down to the local beaches, and have picnics with her. At one place named Delissaville, near Darwin, they found a big cave on a deserted beach and here they would light a fire and stay watching the tide go out while having their lunch.

She loved these outings, and would tell them, 'It is so nice to sit on the sand, and watch the water Mother. Do you think the fish out there can see us sitting on the sand? I love looking at the fire and seeing all the sparks flying to heaven. Do you think God is watching us too?'

Naomi smiled at the child's eager words, and explained to her, 'Perhaps the fish swim so deeply in the water they cannot see us, but I am sure God sees them and watches them and us, always.'

This made Patches so happy and she would clap her hands, turn to her father sitting nearby, take hold of his hands and make him clap too. 'That is so good don't you think Daddy?'

He smiled at her innocent belief and joyous comments, as his love for her had grown so much. A few times she would jump up and try out little dance steps in the sand, going around in a circle, waving her arms at her parents. They enjoyed her sense of fun and childish efforts of song and dance. Often at home Pieter would read to her at night before bed, and Naomi loved to have her around to talk to and teach her many things. Her husband had a prosperous overseas business and he would fly away for a week or two, always bringing back a little present to each of them on his return. He did not believe in spoiling the child, but loved to see her expression when she undid the wrapping on the little gifts.

At home while Naomi played on the piano Patchula would sing along in her sweet voice, often including unusual words that sounded foreign to them, but Naomi decided they might be remembered words from her childhood. As the years flew by, she looked and behaved like a little lady in her pretty clothes. Well-spoken with a bubbly nature and easy laughter, she was popular and dearly loved her new parents who had treated her as their very own daughter from the beginning.

Sometimes she would try to remember her own mother, and felt sad not ever having known who her father was. Patchula grew taller and at the estimated age of eleven and a half years of age was a quiet, pretty slender girl with light olive skin. She adored this family, watching for her father to come home if he had gone out on business, while her mother stayed at home helping Patchula with her schoolwork or playing the piano. She liked to practice the piano and play her favourite melodies.

At the local church there was one family, a tall thin man Andrew Stephens, his short chubby wife Lana and their son Sam. The parents would chat to Patchula about their life in America where they were returning to later on. She found them to be friendly though poorer than her family, which did not matter to her. Though shy, she loved to listen when other people talked to her.

One afternoon some months later after coming home from school, she was outside watching the road for the arrival of her parents, then saw a strange official looking car pull up at the door of the house. A uniformed man and woman stepped out from the car.

Going across the path and looking at her, the man asked, 'Hello are you Patchula Montarro?'

'Yes I am, but please tell me who you are?' and thinking for a minute she asked, 'Sir, have you any proof of your identity to show me. What is it you want?'

Surprised at her question, the man dressed in a blue uniform pulled out his badge showing her, 'We are police officers my dear child, and are so sorry to say we some very have bad news for you.'

With apprehension in her eyes, Patchula became worried as the woman took her hand. 'Could we come inside dear and sit down?' she asked. They went into the front room, with Patchula curious, wondering what this was all about.

After being seated the woman spoke, 'My dear, we are from the Police Station, and regrettably we have some really bad news to tell you. Sadly your parents have been badly injured in a car accident today, and are now in the Hospital. We must take you there quickly to see them. Will you come with us dear?'

The young girl's eyes filled with shock as she stood with her hand up to her mouth crying out, 'No, No, it is not true. It cannot be, no, no!'

Shaking her head, tears filling her eyes, she was comforted by the female police officer, 'Come with us dear child, we must leave now.'

They quickly sat her inside the car to drive off to the Hospital an hour away. Arriving there, the distressed, weeping young girl was led to the rooms where her parents were lying, and she found that her father who had been driving his car had just died of his terrible injuries, and her mother was dangerously close to death. It was a dreadful moment for Patchula to see her mother like that, pale and so weak. She was covered in bandages, with tubes around her face and body, and bruises all over her head and arms.

Running up to the bed she cried out, 'No, no dearest mother, please get well, you can't leave me, you mustn't die. I need you. Please get well.'

Leaning her head alongside her mother's on the pillow, shoulders shaking with emotion, tears streamed down her face as she placed her hands on her mother's arms. Opening her eyes just a little, Naomi looked at the young girl whom she loved so much, then whispered hesitantly to her in between slow breaths, trying to raise her hand to stroke Patchula's head.

'Darling Patchula come close to me... We are going away soon... to a better place... up in Heaven... We truly love you darling... and... want you to go... with... these... nice people...' she paused, and with a faint voice continued. 'You have... to be a brave girl... darling, and be strong. They will... look after you now...' her voice slowly pausing. 'Remember... my darling girl... we will always... always... love you... and our hearts will be there... inside yours forever.' Her voice weakened as she said, 'Remember that darling.' She stopped, closed her eyes and there was silence.

Patchula leaned over holding her mother close to her, shaking in disbelief, crying bitterly beside the bed. Her mother had passed away, and for hours, the young girl was too distraught to leave the bedside. One arm lay across the body of her mother, the other one still clasped her mother's cold, limp hand until she fell asleep on the chair. Then her mother's body was carefully removed.

Early next morning after waking up, Patchula remembered what had happened, and looking around seeing the empty bed she began to sob again. She was helped by another police-woman out to their car to be taken home. It was quickly arranged for Robin the teacher to come and be there with her for a while until she had calmed down. After the funeral was over, and with no one else at her home, Robin offered to stay there with her until the settling of the legal situation. She sat on the couch beside this sweet girl she cared for, trying to comfort her, and Robin felt so sad seeing Patchula distressed like that. She held her close, stroking her hair in a loving way.

Placing her arms around the girl's shoulders, and still holding her tightly against her own body she quietly said, 'There my darling Patchula. I know how terribly hard it is for you without your mother. Just remember that I am here to help you, my dearest girl.'

Afterwards, for some time, still affected by the death of her parents Patchula became quiet and despondent, not doing any schoolwork or wanting to leave the house where she had been so happy. Five months passed with her mood still unchanged, and Robin became worried about the future of this young girl who once had been so carefree and happy. She tried to talk to Patchula who very rarely spoke at all.

One day to her surprise Patchula said, 'Now my mother has gone I want to be called Patches, the first name I ever knew. Patchula is the lovely name my wonderful mother chose and using it makes me remember her too much. Though I will never forget my family, that name they gave me will make me too sad.'

After another church meeting the American couple Andrew and his wife, who had heard of the deaths of her parents, discussed the situation and came forward, offering to look after the girl. This was unusual, but Andrew and his wife approached the elders of the church to speak to them, and Andrew said, 'We really like this young girl, and do not have a daughter. So if permitted we would like to take her back with us to America.'

This idea was totally rejected, also looked upon as unheard of and illegal by the lawyers concerned with the girl's future. However soon they realised that it would take some time to settle her parent's Estate here and overseas and their financial situation. America was such a long distance away and Patches did not want to go anywhere again, just stay in Australia with those she knew and where she was now. Moving away with a new family was too hard, with her still mourning for her parents and not speaking to anyone. Over the next few weeks, there were many discussions with Robin the teacher and the lawyers, as they did not wish to see Patches go anywhere else. This became a dilemma, as the girl had to be within a family situation, adopted again, or put into an orphanage. Even Robin considered this would be terrible for Patches.

So finally, after prolonged investigations and determining many legal conditions which the American couple had to obey, it was very reluctantly agreed the girl could live temporarily for a time with this family in America. She would be a foster child until all the legal work on her parent's estate was completed, but after that, she would have to be returned to Australia. This was the only solution other than putting her into a home for now. The legal details took some time with papers having to be signed by the lawyers and the Stephens family who agreed to these conditions. Andrew promised the lawyers they would keep in contact with them.

'Yes' he told them, 'We will do that until it becomes necessary for the girl to return home.'

Patches was informed of this decision but was not very happy about this, or having to leave this country. She walked around with a pale stiff face until one day when Robin came and spoke to her.

'Patches my dear, when it is possible you will return home in the future, but now you have to stay with this family. This is for the best.'

Though she was not happy about this decision, her fate was settled, and it was arranged. Patches nearly thirteen years old was to become a temporary new member of this very different family. Three months later, arrangements were completed for the American family's return passages from Darwin to America, though Patches was still reluctant to leave the town where she had lived happily for so many years, but now she had no choice.

### CHAPTER 3

#### THE AMERICAN WAY

After leaving Australia with the Stephens family in a big ship with many other people on holidays, Patches walked around the deck, still feeling sick at heart at the loss of her parents. Her life had been totally devastated by their death, and she felt so lost. Keeping to herself she barely spoke to the other family, ate very little and became a solitary figure to whoever saw her. Depressed, she did not look or speak to anyone else on board. The father Andrew did attempt to make friends, but his wife was not really interested in this quiet young girl. Their brusque son ignored her altogether.

After a quiet voyage, they disembarked in America, travelling by train to the little town of Mackinlyville on the west coast of America, north of San Francisco. After moving into a small older style house with three bedrooms and a lounge, she found this home was less than half the size of her other home, but it suited this family. Empty pot plants hung from the balcony, there were no curtains at the windows, the house needed painting and seemed very dismal to her.

Very soon Patches found she was to attend a new senior school a few blocks away and would be able to meet new friends there, so she accepted this life without saying much to anyone. Withdrawing into herself, she rarely spoke to any of the family, just listened to whatever she was told to do. For a while, Andrew tried to communicate with her, but Lana could not be bothered at all with this new girl, who seemed to stay silent and remote.

'Why should I worry, she's not my daughter. After all it was Andrew who wanted to do this,' she said, rarely taking any notice of this new shy young girl in their family.

Sam, their only son, a surly, brown haired spoilt child of twelve years of age, really resented this new girl coming into their life. He never said anything to his parents, just sulked and barely spoke to her at all. She could not understand his off-handed scowls while muttering words under his breath, and wondered why he was like that.

'Did you show Patches her room?' his mother asked him when they first arrived.

'Yes ma',' he replied pointing his hand to the door, not caring, but muttering under his breath, 'Stupid cow.'

Twice, when Patches walked past, he'd put out his foot nearly tripping her up, and his mother would say, 'He's so clumsy. He didn't mean that,' but she knew it was deliberate and did not care, so Patches said nothing.

Not being wealthy, this family could not afford to give her the lessons in singing, music and art, which she once used to have, as Andrew Stevens only worked for a small business which was not doing so well now. His pride would not allow him to ask the lawyers back in Australia for any money for those needs. He knew they would not realize his true financial situation which had deteriorated badly since arriving home. Feeling uneasy about this, one day when sitting at the table with her, he tried to explain the situation.

'I hope you can understand Patches. We do not have the necessary finance for you to have those lessons you had before dear. I am sure there are other things you may be interested in at this school, which will not cost so much. Please just try. We will help you in any way we can,' then gave her a quick hug.

Patches was not sure what to say at first. 'That's alright Mr. Andrew, do not worry,' she told him speaking softly.

He was a quiet gentle man, clean-shaven, in his late thirties, and she felt drawn to him, but Lana his wife was so different. A vain woman who seemed to spend money with no concern about their future, because she considered her appearance was more important. Patches soon found that Lana's cooking was very basic when she tried to cook, and most meals were tasteless and left a lot to be desired. She didn't care about that either, as long as some food was put on the table for them.

Sam often complained, 'What's this on the plate Ma. Hell, it looks like shit.'

'Sam, that's enough, don't be rude,' Lana replied.

'You can do the dishes tonight Sam for your rudeness', his father told him.

'Like Hell! That's what she's here for,' he answered, pointing to Patches.

'That will do boy! Hold your tongue!' Andrew reprimanded him.

'Of course you'd stand up for her. I see youse' sneaking looks at her, Pa.' Sam said in a spiteful voice.

Andrew was annoyed when Lana defended the boy. 'Leave him alone Andrew.'

She nodded to Patches, 'She can do the dishes, but I need a drink.'

Picking up her glass she stormed into the lounge room, feeling disgruntled, but Sam smirked at them as Patches quietly finished her meal and did the dishes. Andrew would sit there looking defeated as he rarely argued with his wife, but his eyes would follow the girl as she worked. Lana usually always got what she wanted, as her husband trusted her, leaving her in charge of the finances.

'Sam, did you hear your father. Eat your meal, and after that, clear the table,' she called out, 'and don't answer me back.'

Lana never checked to see how things were going and their home was usually untidy, with Lana not bothering much about doing any housework. She always told Patches to do the main cleaning, while most nights she would have a glass of wine after dinner to relax her nerves before sleeping. Lana sometimes smiled at the girl, but rarely spoke or helped her the way a mother should, so Patches was never told about a young girl's issues or anything she needed to know. Patches knew now she could never address this couple as mother or father, as she missed the closeness and loving she had received from her family in Australia. Firstly from the minister and his wife and later from her own parents.

Andrew however was a very patient and kind man whom the lonely girl soon found herself liking. Often he would sit and talk to her with his arm around her shoulder, giving her a light hug, or he would put his hand on hers while speaking. Lana would toss her head when seeing this show of affection offered to the girl, but rarely worried about it. Having had many different parents in the last few years was unsettling for Patches, so she did not attempt to do more than tolerate this family. Andrew always talked to her like a father, though she still called him Mr. Andrew.

Now fourteen years old, her body was starting to develop and change. Even Sam the son who called her 'Indy' because of her olive skin, teased her, crudely saying, 'Wow, Indy look at you. Getting tits now! Can I touch em?'

She'd flash a sharp look at him, 'Don't you dare to come near me you rude boy!' and moved away when he smirked at her.

Patches never liked Sam. He was so uncouth and spoke to his mother in such a cheeky way, always disobedient and noisy most of the time. Rarely told to do any work around the house, he would leave when he wanted to.

This made his mother mad at him and she'd shout - 'Alright, get out! You're damn lazy, Sam.'

He'd just laugh at her, running away outside to be with his friends. He knew she rarely hit or punished him, and now his Dad said little, as he had financial problems on his mind. During this period Andrew received letters from the lawyers keeping him advised of the situation with Patches and her parent's estate. He soon became fond of her and realized he did not want her to go back to Australia, so he said very little to the lawyers or to her about this. They had been back home for many months, when one evening, after his wife had gone to sleep half-drunk with the wine, Andrew came into Patches bedroom to say goodnight. He wanted to give her his usual hug, so he sat on the side of her bed to talk to her while she lay there half asleep.

She was beginning to have feelings for him, and liked the way he did talk to her. Always feeling at ease, she trusted him when he came into her room. He had kind grey eyes and a pleasant voice. This time when he left the room he looked back at her, an odd expression showing on his face, but said nothing then. A few weeks after that, when she was sitting up in bed he came in as usual, and watching her face as he sat down, he made an unusual suggestion.

'My dear, I wonder if I could ask you something special. Could I remove your pyjama top so I can see your lovely olive skin? Then if you like, I could give you a lovely massage.'

When hearing these words, she pulled away from him, as his suggestions did not seem right to her. Feeling a bit apprehensive, she asked him what he meant. 'I am not sure what a massage is, and did not think that fathers would say this to their daughters. I don't think you should as it is embarrassing. My own father never suggested that.'

He smiled, taking her hand in his, 'That's quite alright, you need not be upset dear. Perhaps I will wait for another time,' and he blew her a kiss and left the room.

She thought she had upset him and felt bad about it, as she did like him. Andrew would only go in there for a short time while his wife was asleep, never staying too long. A few weeks later, he again entered her room and asked the same question. Again, she said no, and after cuddling her, he smiled sadly and left. The look on his face made her feel guilty. The next time, knowing Lana had gone out for some time, he came there, kissed her face and asked her once more. Now just to please him, she hesitantly agreed to his request.

Slowly undoing her top, and aware she was nervous about it, he sat alongside of her on the bed, staring at her, stroking her hair first for a while. Soon he ran his fingers along her arms and down her waist and back, but he could feel her trembling when he tentatively touched the front of her body. This made him stop and just look at her, as he said he had wanted to do. After a while, he kissed her on the face and left the room. She lay there thinking, perhaps I am being silly? He does not hurt me. She loved to watch the expression in his eyes, it was so warm and she felt protected.

The following week when Andrew knew his wife was fast asleep from the wine she'd drunk, he again entered Patches room to find her nearly asleep. Switching on the lamp, he touched her gently on the arm, and she opened her eyes turning over to see him standing there waiting, but dressed in his pyjamas.

As he smiled, he sat down beside her, 'Will you let me see your body again my dear?'

For a short while, she just looked at him, but said nothing. Within minutes, knowing she had not refused, he had undone her pyjama coat. Once more his fingers were softly touching her skin as his eyes roamed across the top of her young developing body. He was gentle as he moved his hand slowly around her shoulders, and down her arms. Then he leaned over and kissed her neck and ears. This tickled a bit and made her tremble again. In the lamp-light she could see the look on his face, which was tender and loving. When she felt his fingers trail down over her young breasts to her stomach, it caused her to move away from his hands while trying to cover herself up with the sheet. He could tell she was feeling very shy and hesitant about him touching her body.

Caressing her face and smiling gently he told her, 'My dearest girl, though you are not really my daughter. I want to love you as one. This is my way of showing it. You love me too, don't you?' he asked with a smile.

Then pulling the sheet down suddenly, he laid down alongside of her on the bed. She was still uncertain, very nervous about him doing that, not sure in her mind what he was going to do next. Her first father never ever did this, and he loved her too. Andrew touched her body gently a few more times until she relaxed, so she slowly she began to trust him completely. Gradually believing him, she did not resist any more, as by now she felt she was beginning to love him in a special way. Patches never thought about Lana or ever worried any more whether he should be there or not. She felt so comforted by his presence and just enjoyed everything he was doing to her, and was convinced he would not do anything that was wrong.

A few times more he came into her room and repeated what he had done previously, but nothing more. One night a few weeks late while lying there with her, looking at her slim body in the bed, he suddenly moved his fingers from her waist where he had been cuddling her. Slowly he slipped his hand further down into her pants, but she was so startled at his touching her down there she jumped with the strange feeling this gave her. One she had never felt before. Quickly she pushed his hand away feeling very embarrassed when he first attempted this, and told him to stop as it was wrong for him to do that.

He thought about her words, got up from her bed, kissed her goodnight and left the room. Again she worried she had hurt his feelings, and later decided, because she loved him perhaps that might not be such a terrible thing to do, and perhaps it would please him if she agreed.

For a few nights he did not continue coming in, but when he did, he whispered to her, 'My sweet young girl, I do care for you and I want to show my love to you, just like this, you and me. This will be a special secret between us, and you will really like whatever I do. Do not be scared or worried. We love each other don't we?'

As he seemed to be such a lonely man, she was concerned about him, as she had noticed that his wife Lana rarely came over to hug him or show him any affection. So when he continued to come into her room, she did not mind him touching her on her body anymore, as long as she knew he loved her. She had not felt close to anyone since her parents died, and his caring made her feel special and loved. Entering her room over time became a habit with him now when he could slip away from Lana. Sometimes he had his clothes on, but mainly he wore his pyjamas.

Lying down beside her, he would gently touch and stroke her body while kissing her face and neck, often moving his hand down below her waist, touching her body there, just a little. At first, she trembled when he did this, often pushing his hand away hesitant about his actions which seemed rude. Soon she found it gave her nice tingling feelings and these were so different to anything else she had ever known before, and her love for him increased, as she was happy to be able to please him.

Always, as he kissed her face or down on her body he would quietly tell her, 'This will make you feel so good my dear. It will be lovely for you and won't hurt. Just remember how much I love you,' he kept reassuring her.

She was no longer apprehensive because it was good to know her foster father could love her that way. During the day he would rarely speak to her as much as he did before, because his son noticed too much, so Andrew was being very careful not to pay any extra attention to the girl. He was sure his wife had not observed anything different to normal. Now each time he came into her room, he would be the same with her, and she began to enjoy those unusual feelings his touching gave her as it felt so wonderful and exciting. He was gentle and knew exactly what to do, watching her face as he did this. She had no idea of how this was affecting him as well. For a while she felt everything Mr. Andrew did was alright, and even wondered why he wanted to do this to her. Was this really how love felt?

Naturally, she had never known anything about sexual relationships, or even knew the meaning of the word sex. Friends at school did not talk about these things at all, and her ignorance of any of this made him more eager to try this more often, just to watch her reaction. Soon, seeing her enjoying what he did, he was tempted to go further, using his fingers everywhere, touching her gently, until she loved the exciting, wild feelings she felt, with her body responding to his touch. Often he felt or kissed her small breasts and her stomach gently with his mouth, which was nice too. By now, she had a strange insistent urge to touch him somewhere, on his arms or body but always hesitated. Finally, she gave in and gently touched his face as he bent over her, or put her hand over his arm, just to feel him as well.

One night he asked her to try doing something new for him, as he was responding too much and needed this desperately. Without her knowing he'd opened the front of his pyjama pants, and not realising this, she was hesitant about his request as it was very different.

She looked at his face asking,' Why do I have to do this for you?' he replied, 'Well my dear, if I make you feel good, this will do the same for me. You love me I know, and I love you. Surely you would like me to feel as good as you do too.'

She felt guilty for not doing as he asked and she agreed. Finding her reluctant at first, he guided her hands down to touch and hold him, which she did. She could not see him in the lamp light, and had no idea men had such strange body parts. All this time he kept on using his fingers on her, stirring her so much as well, but suddenly getting embarrassed at his strange strong reactions, she pulled her hand away.

The she heard the sharp re-action in his voice as he exclaimed, 'Oh God! Don't stop now girl, keep going!'

Suddenly he tried to do more by attempting to roll across on top of her while fumbling with his fingers, and it was then she became very scared. This was unexpected, and he felt so heavy! Frightened, she abruptly forced his hands away, struggling with difficulty to move her body out from under him to the side, pleading, 'No, No! What are you doing, please stop, stop Mr Andrew!'

Upset at her reactions and awkwardly getting up from the bed, his pants fell down and he stood there in the lamplight, revealing to her this peculiar, distended body part. She sat up shocked and astounded, staring at it, but then felt suddenly ashamed. Had she caused that to happen to Mr Andrew, it was horrible thought.

Annoyed by her refusal, he shook his head muttering, 'Hell girl! Look what you have done.'

Gathering his clothes, he threw them over his partly naked body, and quickly left the room. Patches just lay there, her mind numb, her senses still tingling from the way he had sexually affected her, but more so, she felt terribly upset by his words and strange mood. Not understanding why he'd said that, she was dismayed that he blamed her. Curling up in bed, she cried to herself, thinking he won't love me anymore. Her emotions were so mixed! Over the next few days, any thoughts of what had happened left her depressed and despondent.

She now kept to herself when at school and at home, feeling so guilty, and when she glanced up at him, he'd look away. Andrew stayed away from her room for a while, barely speaking much at all, as he himself had been unexpectedly humiliated though disappointed at her reaction. After that, he did not come to her room, and often his feelings almost made him want to repeat his previous request to her, but he refused to give way to them. He now knew that once begun, he wouldn't be able to stop himself.

When seeing how downcast and lonely she looked, eventually, he did return to her room now, and these times he always made sure he controlled his emotions. She still loved the wonderful feelings this gave her, but felt guilty for refusing his earlier requests. However, to her relief, he did not ask this of her again, and he seemed reticent and different now. One night after he had gone, she tried to understand these feelings, and began to remember her life before. Her adopted father never tried anything like that, so maybe what Mr Andrew was doing with her was not right. She decided to tell Mr Andrew to stop coming into her bed at all, and next time they were alone, she spoke to him in a firm voice. Watching the expressions on his face she told him.

'Please Mr Andrew do not come into my room anymore and do those things to me?'

Feeling disappointed he asked, 'Please my dear, let me keep on seeing you. Remember I love you. I will never hurt you.'

'No, you must stop now. It does make me feel so wonderful and I love you too, but this all feels so wrong, and I know it is wrong as well.' she repeated.

Leaving her room, he looked back at her with regret, shaking his head. The next night when Lana and Sam were out, they were sitting alone in the lounge room, and she asked him, 'Why do you want to touch me the way you do with your hands? No one else has ever done anything like that to me before.'

'My dearest girl, you know. I've told you I love you and I really need to touch you,' suddenly hugging her tightly against his body, he kissed her face while placing his hand up inside her dress along her slender thigh.

Immediately moving away, she told him, 'No please stop. I can't let you continue that anymore. Please, I really feel this is wrong, and someone might come in and see us.' and turning away not looking at his face, she left the room. He decided then not to attempt to touch her again.

Often Lana would give her husband strange looks when she came home, or when they were together in the bedroom, but said nothing. Lately Patches often noticed that Lana seemed different, staring coldly at her without speaking. She became quite unfriendly and rarely spoke to the girl, just ignored her, so Patches felt like an outsider in the family. Life after that became more bearable for Patches, even with Lana's behaviour, and many thoughts of the previous few months filled her mind. Missing her parents, she would often picture them, and cried quietly in her small room, and she felt so lonely again.

Lana and Sam rarely changed towards her, and she did miss the closeness she once had with Mr Andrews. He stayed away from her bedroom after the last time in the lounge room, but she felt him looking at her often, a sad, wistful expression on his face. When her body matured she was upset when her monthly's began, and this strange happening worried and frightened her. Not knowing why this was occurring she asked Lana what it meant.

'That's a natural event and all girls get it,' was all Lana said. She offhandedly told her what to do about it, but explained nothing more, or helped her to understand what it meant. This new development often gave her stomach pains, so at school when talking to her new friends she asked them why all this was happening? She asked one older girl named Shirley.

Shirley said, 'All that stuff means you are now old enough to have a kid if a guy tries to mess with you or have sex.'

Patches was curious and asked, 'What is sex, and what does it mean? I know nothing about that?'

Surprised at her question, Shirley replied with a sly but cocky smile, 'Yeah, sex is good when you get it!' then smirked. 'Gosh, you don't know anything at all, do you Patches? Sex means a man and woman, or a mum and dad do things together when in bed. You must know that? You don't 'ave to love him! If you're still a virgin it means you ain't been poked by any man or a boy! Gee, guess you don't know what I am talking about do you Patches? Gosh you're dumb!' she said, sniggering.

'There are always boys or feller's who want to muck about and try everything, if you let them,' she giggled. 'You wait and see, but you must be really careful of those bad feller's. They kid you with words, and can get you into awful trouble with the 'clap' or even put a bun in your oven,' she said, laughing when noticing the astonished expression on Patches face.

Patches just stood there stunned, after hearing this strange information from Shirley 'I don't understand any of that. What is a virgin, and am I one'? Patches asked looking at her, 'Are you a virgin Shirley?'

Shirley seemed taken aback at the question, but with an amused look replied, 'Gosh, you must be. If no-one's really messed around with you without your knickers on. They can leave that stuff inside you, and it will make you fall pregnant with a kid. If I get the chance, I try things too, but I'm careful, don't want no kid yet. Ain't yu ever bin told any of this before?'

Patches seemed confused and nodded no, very concerned about those remarks. She thought about the times Mr Andrew lay beside her and touched her. Then she asked, 'Shirley, what's stuff do you mean, and does your father touch your private parts?'

'Well the stuff is called sperm's wat makes babies, and boys and father's 'ave that. But that other thing, golly, heck no, my Dad wouldn't do wat you said. That's real bad! Only a doctor, or a man can do that with older girls and mum's, even whores, or that's big trouble!' Shirley said, not believing anyone could be so stupid and ignorant.

Patches was shocked, remembering what Mr. Andrew had done and wanted her to do. She was worried and disturbed about the things Shirley told her, and what was the meaning of a being a whore! She didn't dare ask anything else. Is she a whore? She wondered about Mr Andrew, and if he did that with his wife too. Is that how Sam was made? Why did Mr Andrew want to touch her as he did, or was it just because he was lonely though knowing it was wrong. Now she was so annoyed at her ignorance and at Lana for not telling her about these things. Her inexperience of all of this made her feel stupid. Wasn't Lana supposed to help her understand these changes in her body as she grew?

Often when she was moaning with the period pain in her stomach Sam would hear her, come into the room and call her 'Sookie', instead of her real name. She'd ignore his nasty remarks when he did this and hide in her room. A few times when his parents were out, he entered her room and stood behind her, trying to touch her breasts, or grabbing her from behind, wanting to feel her all over. She hated him doing that, and getting angry with him she'd yell and hit his arms away and kick at him with her feet, chasing him out of the room, finally locking her door.

When they were alone in the house, he'd undo his pants and show her his growing male parts. 'Hey Indy, look what I've got for you,' he'd skite watching her reaction. Often he asked to see her 'little bits', and tried to pull down her pants, laughing at her attempts to stop him.

She'd be furious and push him out of the room, insisting, 'Leave me alone, you horrid boy. Don't ever touch me or talk like that anymore or I'll tell your mother.'

He laughed and made rude suggestions, smirking, a sly grin on his face. 'Stupid 'sookie' tart,' he called her, laughing. 'I'll get you one day sookie, you'll see.' All these remarks made her unhappy and she would go and ask Mr Andrews why Sam was rude and nasty to her, but he rarely took any notice of her questions these days. He had other things on his mind, being very concerned about his financial problems. In the beginning, Andrew had not bothered to keep in touch with the Australian lawyers as he'd promised, and because of his unexpected feelings for his foster daughter he ignored any letters from them. Often he wondered if they would put the Police on his tracks to find the girl, and this thought kept him on edge worrying all the time, apprehensive this might happen and he'd lose his job.

When he'd first been concerned about the Australian lawyers finding them, they had moved and he stayed silent. Now with those worries and then hearing the problems about his son, he did not want to listen. Patches became very distressed at his attitude and began keeping those things to herself.

### CHAPTER 4

#### A DIFFERENT LIFE

In this year of 1938, tension was erupting overseas in many countries, which affected the business between them, and it looked as though it would cause more trouble. The news in papers did not report much of the truth to the public. After the first ten months the family had moved from their house into a smaller cheap apartment, but then in a short time, everything suddenly went downhill. The depression had started, and there were drastic changes for them and many others around the country as business slumped, and work and food became scarce. All too soon Andrew lost his job, and they had to leave again to live in cheaper rooms in a different poorer section of the town.

Lana did not like living this way, which caused more arguments with Andrew. He'd leave the house to walk around the streets just to get away from her complaining, even in the winter when it was very cold. When he developed a bad cough and began to feel sharp pains in his chest, he said nothing to his wife. His health became much worse as he hardly ate any food, and lost a lot of weight. Lana noticed but did not worry about him as she now had problems trying to make ends meet. Money soon dried up when Mr Andrew could not find work anywhere.

The new area they moved to was in a very dingy part of town, and after school Patches would often walk to the nearest park to feed bread to the ducks to get away from Lana and Sam. She constantly felt dispirited and sat on the park bench feeling so alone, with nobody to talk to. She had seen how sick Mr Andrew looked, but as Lana did not seem to care much, Patches did not say anything to him, though she still worried. She had never seen him look so ill and pale.

He had been sickly for quite a while, and suddenly he became much worse in November, but without enough money to help him, he couldn't see a private Doctor. Soon he felt so bad he went to a nearby Hospital which ran some tests, and they found he had a terminal cancer in his lungs. Because the right medical treatment was scarce and expensive and not available anywhere close to this town, nothing could be done. For once Lana felt upset and angry with herself for being so careless with money, and the guilt overwhelmed her.

She would sit near his bed in Hospital pleading, 'Mr Andrew I am so sorry, please forgive me,' but by then he was too ill and did not care.

Patches would slip into the hospital after school to see Mr Andrew, but he was usually drugged or asleep. Not told how terribly sick he was, she just wanted to talk to him, but most of the time he was barely conscious and unaware of her presence. Sitting beside his bed, she'd look at his pale face and hold his hand.

Often she would whisper, 'Mr Andrew, can you hear me? Please wake up and talk to me. I need to ask you something, please open your eyes and speak,' but was worried when he didn't reply.

Within a few months and suffering a lot of pain he deteriorated, and to their unexpected shock, he died. Patches sobbed in her room, becoming depressed, as Lana in her grief turned on her blaming her for their bad luck. Her moods changed, and she was often nasty and cruel, calling the girl names. Patches would lie on the bed thinking of Mr. Andrew, not believing she had lost another father again. She tried to talk to this woman who was her foster mother, and really upset by her husband's sudden death, Lana would angrily shout at the girl she disliked so much.

'Leave me alone girl! It's because we brought you here we are in this position now. You've bought us bad luck ever since.'

Patches did not know what to do and felt lost. Why was she being blamed for Mr. Andrew's death? Who could she talk to, and ask advice? One day Lana came to her in the bedroom, her face vindictive, and in a spiteful tone she abused the grieving girl.

'I'm no fool missy. I knew what my husband was doing all those nights he was in your room. When I woke up and he wasn't there, don't you think I knew what he was up to, even though I'd been drinking? I knew! You are a wicked shameful tart and no good!'

Horrified at her remarks, Patches cried out, 'That is not true. He told me he just loved me and wanted me to love him, that's all it was. Nothing we did was wrong, or he would have told me. Why are you saying those awful things to me? I don't believe you!' and she was crying.

Lana's face was twisted and bitter as she screamed at her, 'Do you think I am brainless you stupid girl. He rarely made love to me anymore, just because I was drinking a bit to help me sleep. That's why he went to you. He knew it was not right. The bastard took advantage of you, but that didn't stop you or him, did it. You knew what you were doing and I should have kicked you out, but he wouldn't.'

Her face was white, her eyes narrowed, lips pulled tight with anger, and she was furious, certain Patches was lying to her. Turning around she leaned over to hit the girl across the face, then abruptly changed her mind. She suddenly thought. I might get into trouble striking this girl who's not my daughter. Instead, she grabbed the girl's blouse, and shook her body violently back and forth. Patches was helpless, cowering back in fear, stunned by her words and actions, wondering what Lana would do next. Her mind was in turmoil. Why was this happening to her? She wanted to get away from Lana's nasty voice, and hoped that Sam could not hear his mother talking like that. Finally Lana stopped and strode out from the room full of anger.

After that episode no more was said, and Lana sank into a depressive mood not speaking to the girl, or even knowing how to cope with the situation of them having to survive. These details had always been handled by Andrew, and for once it was up to her. The next day, recalling how angry she'd become when nearly hitting Patches, she unexpectedly remembered something. A short time after her husband had died, she'd gone through his clothing, sorting out Andrews personal papers. Finding a small box in which he had stored papers and items from some years back, she had noticed some creased brown envelopes, which seemed to have been opened, and stuck down again. She knew by the postage date they were a few years old, with postage stamps different to the American ones. She was going to throw them away, then put them aside, thinking she'd open them again later on. This of course she forgot, with everything else she had to do plus giving his clothing to a charity.

Now the thought of those creased letters entered her mind. What was in them and where were they? Why did her husband keep them? Searching in cupboards and drawers they were nowhere to be found, and annoyed with herself she gave up, but was still curious. A fearful thought occurred to her. Were they from the Australian lawyers, and was that why Andrew had kept them? Knowing they'd not bothered to keep in touch with the legal firm as they had agreed to, she became scared. Also realizing that because they'd moved twice, the lawyers would not know where they were living now. Shivers ran through her body at the thought that she could go to jail or something awful like that, for not obeying the lawyers.

She stood there remembering the letters she had found previously, and knew she had to find them soon then decide what to do after reading them. Getting a glass of wine to steady her nerves, she sat down on an old chair having another, until feeling drowsy she closed her eyes and slept. After a while, she pulled herself together, knowing until the letters were found there was nothing more to be done. She was not going to stir up trouble for herself, so she brushed the matter from her mind. As long as the girl was here with her and being looked after the only way Lana knew how to, nothing could be wrong.

She decided not to write to the lawyers, scared that Andrew had somehow broken the law by not contacting them. One day the letters would turn up, and she'd know what was in them and if it was important. By now, the only money left to Lana was used up with her drinking, so the two teenagers were left to fend for themselves. Patches was over fifteen now, unhappy, wanting to go somewhere else or back to Australia, but she did not know how to. She hating living like this with no-one to turn to, and felt desperately alone, dejected and miserable. Very soon, her schoolwork was affected and her grades went down, which was noticed by one particular teacher, Mrs. James, who wondered why? She decided to keep an eye on the shy, quiet girl. She knew the father had died, so guessed this was the reason for the girl's despondency and bad grades, but she was concerned.

Over all the years before the death of her husband, Lana rarely bothered about providing nice clothing for Patches, as the money Andrew gave her was mainly used for her own needs. At first she bought some good clothes for the girl once a year, but now since Andrew had died, and with barely any money left to her, she had to depend on the charity shops. When inside them she'd bundle up some pieces of clothing from what was offered there, usually an unsuitable dress, a couple of mismatched blouses and skirts which older women would wear, plus worn but clean underwear. She dropped these on the floor in the corner of the girl's small room, one of the two thin walled rooms they shared, and hard faced she spoke to Patches in a cold unfriendly voice.

'There girl, I've put some things together for you to wear. Nothing much but they will do. It doesn't matter if they are the wrong sizes, just use them and be grateful. You don't deserve them or anything, after what you did.' Standing there with her hands on her hips she glared at the girl.

Looking at the woman who disliked her so much, and the old style of clothing she was offered, Patches knew she had no choice. Often she did not care as long as the clothes she was given kept her covered and looking decent, and she always washed her own clothing. After all the years of living with this family, she just accepted what was offered to her.

'Thank you Lana, they will be alright,' she said quietly with no emotion in her face, then picked up the clothing and put them away on the shelf.

For weeks, she would go out walking after school, sometimes sitting in the small local church to pray and think about her previous life in Australia. First with the Minister and his wife, so different to this, then when adopted by wonderful parents who were accidently killed. At school she would sit and look at the boys all giggling when around the girls, and wondered if they were like Sam with his rude remarks. She disliked him so much now they barely spoke to each other. Within a short time, Sam became mixed up with a few young louts and he decided to go and stay with them. He knew now there were other ways of getting money in his pockets. Not telling his Mother where he was going that day, as she was out, he left with a few of his things, saying to Patches on the way out of the rooms they shared.

'Hey Indy, guess what, you're lucky today. I'm clearing off and won't be 'ere to watch you sum' more with nuthin' on,' he boasted, laughing at her perplexed expression, a sneer of enjoyment on his face. 'You didn't know, did yu! I'se bin' lookin' at you through a hole in the wall when you tek' your duds off, standing there with noth'n on. Heh! Oh boy, wat sights I saw. Ha-, ha-ha!' he said, smirking while speaking.

Then with that last mean laugh, he turned quickly to leave before his mother arrived home. At first Patches could not believe his words, but remembered all the awful things he had tried to do to her many times before. She actually felt disgusted at first, then relief in her mind that he had gone. She had no idea there was a hole in the wall and did not really believe him, but decided to check the old wooden walls carefully. Finally she spotted it. There it was, about a head height, a small hole beside a shelf on the wall, a bit larger than the size of a big thumb. Peering through it, she realized what he had been talking about. If she pressed her eye up close to the hole, everything in the other room was revealed. She was embarrassed when remembering his words. After thinking for a few minutes, and knowing it was too late now, she twisted a tiny bit of rag and pushed it into the hole, hoping Lana wouldn't notice it.

Picking up an old paper book of Lana's from the bottom shelf, she placed it on the edge of the shelf close to the piece of rag sticking out of the small hole. Standing back, looking across, she couldn't even see it anymore. With Sam having gone, it made her feel so much better. When around the rooms he'd always left a mess, never cleaned up or rarely washed himself, and there was always his rudeness to her as well. She wondered what Lana would say when finding Sam had gone.

However when Lana did come home and Patches told her, she just shrugged her shoulders, uncaring. 'It's a good thing he's left. He's mixed up with a bad crowd. Nothing I can do now, as they'll teach him nuthin' good. That's his problem, he's out of my hands and I've one less mouth to feed,' she commented, with no emotion in her voice.

After that remark nothing more was said. Though not surprised at this, Patches felt sad that Lana could say those things about her only son. Surely she had loved him for a while. One teacher Patches had at the school was nice, so one day she asked this teacher if she could talk to her privately about some things. It was Mrs James, the younger woman with kind eyes and brown hair, who was not as strict as some other teachers were. She was the one who had previously noticed the change in Patches, and now she looked at the girl surprised, as she very rarely said much at all to anyone. She always seemed to be quiet saying very little, even though she had always been so good at her schoolwork until recently.

Leading her into a separate room, they sat down and she asked, 'Well my dear what can I do to help you. Is it something you cannot ask your mother?'

'Mrs James, Lana is not my real Mother, she is looking after me, but we are not close,' Patches replied. 'There is something I need to know and it is very personal.' she faltered, blushing and feeling uncomfortable. 'Mrs James, could you please tell me, if a grown up man touches a girl in any rude way and they are not married, is that wrong?'

'My dear, it depends,' Mrs James said, her eyes opening with concern when hearing these words. Looking at the girl's face she said, 'If he is not your boyfriend or is a stranger on the streets, surely you wouldn't let them or anyone touch you, in such a bad way. You don't seem to be that sort of girl.'

Patches face changed quickly, feeling uneasy at that remark. 'Oh no, I'm not like that. I would never do that, but what if a father touched someone like his daughter a different way, and he knew it was not right, how would she know this was wrong?'

This made the teacher very curious and quite a bit apprehensive. Why didn't the mother say anything to the girl? Now alarmed at the question, she wondered at the girl's reason for her asking this?

'Any father who touches his child in a different or rude way is committing a crime, and it is illegal. This could change into incest, and is really a bad crime. It should never happen, as it is really immoral. Surely this did not happen to you my dear?'

Patches looked upset and worried at what she said, knowing now the things Andrew had done to her were wrong. She hastily thanked the teacher and walked out of the room, but the woman called out to her urgently, 'Be careful Patches always. If you need any help or advice, just come and ask me. I am concerned about what you've just told me.'

Without looking back Patches ignored her, and just kept on walking, feeling sick at heart. All that time she had loved Mr Andrew, and he'd touched her that way, aware he should not do that, even though he said how much he loved her. Her mind was full of so many pictures of him on her bed, that now she felt positively ashamed and mortified. She hoped the teacher would not say anything to her about it, or suggest the police should be informed. She stayed away from school for a few days, hanging around in the park hoping the teacher Mrs James would not seek her out. When returning to school, Patches stayed out on the schoolyard after lessons, sitting alone on one of the benches to be alone.

Her teacher was still worried about the girls' remarks, but said no more, keeping a discreet watch on her from a distance to see if she still seemed upset about anything. Almost a year passed and the situation at their lodgings became worse. After Sam had run away they never heard from him again. With hardly any money left as Lana could not find work, she would take Patches down to the local food hall where many poorer people would queue up for a meal. She did not like doing this but they had to eat. Not talking to the girl much, they sat slumped in the seats in the hall alone, not speaking to anyone. Many of them were strangers and would stare at this odd couple. Lana so different with her chubby appearance and pasty skin, and this tall, slim, well-developed pretty girl with long brown curly hair, and light golden skin. Afterwards, they'd go back to the two little rooms they lived in, but never talk. Lana would insist on the girl doing most of the housework, saying she felt sick. She never showed any feelings for the young girl, who eventually became very lonely, weeping alone in the room. Patches even missed Sam's company, and no-one else came to visit as Lana had very few friends.

Later on Patches decided to try something again and she began singing once more, just to make herself feel happy. Having no-one to talk to when school was over, she spent her spare time at their rooms either practicing her singing, keeping up with her senior school work, or going back to the local park to sit for an hour most days after school. Lana was surprised at the sounds of Patches singing, but except for a few grumpy comments, she let it go. As long as the girl did not bother her she didn't care, it was not her problem. Patches would sit in the park watching the people walk past, and this eased her misery.

Soon her attitude changed as months went by. Seeing the expression on people's faces change when they smiled at her, she began to do the same. It made her feel so much better, as though a weight was being lifted of her mind. After a while, some of the women would wave to her as they walked past, so Patches waved back, and it felt wonderful like having new friends, and she was so happy. While walking along the streets to go back to her lodgings, some men would approach her, muttering words she did not understand. Sometimes the men tried to take her hand and this really frightened her. Tremors would run through her body and she'd quickly pull away, moving to the other side of the pathway, so these walks down the street stopped. She worried what would become of her and Lana if they had no money to live on.

In the park people would come in sit down nearby, watching and throwing bread to the ducks as she did. She would look at them sadly but not speak, just watched their faces as they talked together, and she wished she could join in and be friends with them, but felt too shy to ask. Children often came in to the park and ran around laughing and throwing a ball to each other. Once a ball rolled across the ground and landed near Patches feet, so she bent down and picked it up as the lad came over.

'Eh that's our ball,' he growled at her grabbing it out of her hands.

'I was going to give it to you,' she replied, but he had run off, and she felt upset at his attitude.

After that she just watched the children, longing to join in with their play, and soon she'd wander off back to her lonely room. A few weeks later when she was feeding stale pieces of bread to the ducks, a lightly coloured, smartly dressed woman came over to stand nearby. She had been watching Patches from a distance for quite a few days, and she looked at her worn clothing and her face.

Smiling at her, she asked, 'Hello dear, would you mind if I sat here to talk to you?'

Patches always remembered what her first Father had told her, and not sure who this woman was, she said 'I guess so, but I don't know you.'

The woman sat down smiling, 'I'm sure we have met before. Are you from the Islands with your lovely golden coloured skin dear?'

Patches turned around, 'No, I'm from Australia, and I hope to be going back there soon.' she replied with a shy smile.

'Is that so?' replied the woman, striking up a conversation with her, asking her name, and talking to her in a friendly way.

Still feeling a bit shy Patches told her, 'I was once called Patchula, a name my mother called me, but when I was a small child my nickname was Patches.'

'That is an unusual name.' the woman said wondering to herself about the girl's age.

Over the next few weeks, every time Patches came to the park, this woman would come over and sit beside her to chat. Gradually Patches grew to like and trust her, and besides it was nice to have someone to talk with. Now she was not so lonely and felt better and found herself actually looking forward to seeing this friendly woman at the Park.

One day, while they were in the park chatting, the woman suggested, 'It's so hot today. Would you like to come and have a soda with me?'

Patches looked at her curiously, wondering who she really was. 'I'm not sure if I should. Are you a member of our church? Would you tell me your name please?'

'Yes love, of course, that is where we may have seen each other before. My name is Maria,' the woman replied giving her a smile as Patches looked at her.

'I don't know Maria, I really shouldn't go anywhere with someone I don't know, but I will walk with you for just for a little while. Then I have to go back home soon.'

She walked with Maria to a shop along the road, where this woman bought two sweet sodas, and they sat outside to drink them. Patches was still uncertain about this woman, who was so friendly, and she seemed nice enough. They sat there until the sodas were finished and stood up ready to leave, with Patches heading back in the direction where she lived.

The woman watched her as they walked slowly along the road, but often glanced ahead of her down the street.

### CHAPTER 5

#### A FRIGHTENING EXPERIENCE

Strolling back along the path with her towards the park, the woman suddenly stopped beside a shiny black type of van parked along the roadside.

Patches wondered why she did this, and could vaguely see two other people sitting in the front, a man and a woman.

Maria stopped walking and turning to Patches she said, her voice sounding strange, 'Look here lovey, come closer. These are my friends and I'd like you to meet them.'

The dark haired woman inside put her head out of the window, 'Hello Maria, how are you? Tell me, who is this pretty young girl?'

Patches held back hesitantly, but moved to the side a bit as she bent her head to look at the woman speaking through the open window. Abruptly the side door of the van swung open, and a dark haired man jumped right out the door and roughly grabbed hold of her body pulling her hastily inside the back section of the van. Then he forced her down onto the floor holding her there so tightly she could not move.

Completely terrified Patches screamed out, 'What are you doing, let me go, let me go please,' while struggling and twisting around on the floor. Her voice sounded strained and muffled as she called, 'Maria quickly, please help me.'

The strange man beside her pressed his boot down onto her back holding his dirty hand across her mouth, stifling her screams. Quickly Maria moved into the front seat and they hastily drove off. Bewildered and frightened by these actions, Patches had frozen, then began squirming and screaming again, kicking her legs, until a blanket was thrown over her head and body, stifling the noise. Forcefully held down on the floor by those strong arms and his legs, she was helpless.

Trembling but terrified she heard a deep, strange sounding voice repeating 'Hurry, Hurry Vito, get us out of here. Someone may be watching!'

When trying to push off the heavy blanket, she instantly felt a sickly sweet smelling cloth held over her nose and mouth, and seconds later she became giddy and faint then blackness took over. The vehicle engine roared as it sped off along the road. When opening her eyes, Patches head was fuzzy and aching and she felt sick, but slowly noticed she was lying on a dingy bed in a sparsely furnished room, with one dim light on the wall. Sitting up feeling very groggy, she looked around for a window to see where she was.

Within a few minutes, the door opened and the woman Maria who had spoken to her in the park, entered the room. Walking up to the bed she stood there staring at her, not smiling now.

In a hard voice she said, 'Well missy you are awake, that is good. Someone will be here soon to tell you why you are here, and what will happen next. You never know, you may even grow to enjoy being here with us later on.' She laughed indifferently without looking back.

Maria closed the door with a bang leaving the room, her footsteps sounding on the floor as she walked down the passage. She checked into the other rooms to see if everything was being prepared for the customers who were expected later that night. Some of the women were lounging around the main room chatting to each other, but when seeing Maria they quickly moved to their rooms to get ready. Patches was giddy and confused, but soon she could hear voices outside and men arguing.

Dazed and feeling sick, she stood up, walked around the room not understanding what it was all about. Very soon two big, foreign looking, swarthy, much older men dressed in dark coloured flashy clothes came in through the doorway. One was shorter than the other man, burly looking with a mean face. They came closer and the taller man grabbed hold of her arm, forcing her to sit on the small chair pulled into the centre of the room by the mean faced man.

The bigger man spoke, 'Listen here girl. I am known as Carlo, I run this brothel and you are going to work for me here. My friend here is Vito. First, tell me your name and then your age. Do you understand what I am talking about?'

He sat down beside her on another chair shoved across to him by the other man Vito. Her heart pounding Patches was confused and tried to stand up and move away, but he scowled, grabbed her arm again, pulling her down to sit beside him. He had dark, rough pock marked skin, and spoke with a heavy accent, smelling of perspiration and cheap cologne.

His face became angry as he told her, 'That's enough of that girl. Stay there and listen to me, and listen well.'

She did not answer, so he took hold of her chin twisting her face around in the light, but as she pulled away at his touch he held her arms tightly with his big rough hand. Running one hand firmly over her slim body, he abruptly lifted up her skirt his fingers quickly sliding across her thighs reaching in closer, trying to feel her private parts underneath.

Jerking her legs away, but scared at his hands touching her, and deeply embarrassed, Patches called out, 'No, don't do that, get your dirty hands away from me,' and pulled her thighs tightly together while knocking his hands off her body. Then she lashed out kicking her feet at his legs. 'Keep your hands to yourself you dirty, horrible man. I don't know you or what you want, I am only sixteen, and you cannot keep me here, so let me go,' and then screamed out very loudly.

He stood up quickly reacting to her kick with a furious lunge towards her, but when hearing her last remark he paused, laughed loudly, throwing his head backwards. 'Well Vito, seems this 'ere young alley cat 'ere is a real fighter. We'll 'ave to watch out, she may bite,' and he laughed coarsely again.

The other swarthy ugly faced man agreed, 'This one's going to be a pleasure for you to tame Carlo, look out for her claws!'

With this, Carlo scowled and suddenly slapped Patches sharply across the face, saying in a low guttural voice, 'Listen here girl, once you start working, there will be no more of that silly talk or stupidity. You understand me! Here you do as you are told, or you will find I can give you more problems that you won't like!'

Her head had fallen backwards at the hard slap, but she still stared at him defiantly with tearful anger in her eyes, standing up to move quickly away from his reach to the other side of the room. Here he could not touch her or see she was close to tears. Fearful and shaking at his treatment of her, Patches was not aware of the situation she was in. Carlo stamped over towards her, grasped her arm in a tight grip, bending it behind her back so hard she winced with pain, then forced her to go with him out of the room, signalling Vito to leave. Walking her down a passage with many rooms along each side, he opened the door of another room pulling her in. This one was lit up and she could see some furniture in it, with a shower cubicle and toilet in the corner of the room. Roughly shoving her onto the low bed, Carlo gave instructions for her to sit there until the woman Maria came back.

'Don't attempt to leave here,' he said sarcastically. 'Maria will tell you what is expected of you, so control your temper bitch, it won't do you no good. You've got a lot to learn you stupid girl, and my temper is short.'

With that scathing remark, he left the room as Patches held back her tears until he had gone. Giving way to the seriousness of her situation, she sat trembling on the bed which was covered with a worn faded satin cover and pillows, feeling sick in her stomach. Frightened, desperately worried, she even found herself longing to see Lana for once. Thoughts filled her head, and though very scared by the comments the man Carlo made, she wondered, why was I bought here? A small part of her mind pondered, was he part of a kidnapping gang? No, that was silly. Why, she kept on saying to herself, why did they take her away to bring her to this place? For an instant when remembering some comments that awful man made, a horrible thought surged through her mind. Oh God, surely not that!

She had heard two of her friends at schools talking once about girls being forced to work in places called brothels, but she knew nothing about brothels, or what sort of work they were there for. The door opened and the woman called Maria who had spoken to her in the park, entered coming over to where Patches was sitting on the bed, and she sat down beside her. Patches quickly dried her eyes not wishing this woman to see she had been crying, though her eyes were red. Maria's voice was heavy and not as friendly as she had been before, but in a few words she explained to Patches why she was here.

'Your name girl is a strange one. Patches you told me? When Patches weakly nodded 'yes', Maria said, 'Am not sure about that name. We will have to change it to something else. Do you have any idea why you have been brought here, and what is going to happen soon?

Patches whispered no, as Maria continued, 'This place is a brothel, and many other women all work for Carlo and his boss as whores in these rooms.'

She said this sneering at the expression on the girl's face, which was pale, her eyes apprehensive at hearing those words spoken. Again it seemed that Patches was unsure of what she meant, as she kept looking around the room as though to escape.

Then she asked, 'What is a Brothel or a whore Maria, I don't really know?'

Maria appeared surprised. 'Well girl, you'll soon find out. Now, have a shower and put on those clothes, and when you are ready you'll soon see how you have to work here as a prostitute. This means you go to bed with many different men and learn how to please them. At first, you will have to be taught how to do this, so learn to do it well.'

Her eyes narrowed and her voice changed, tinged with sarcasm. Patches stood up, trying to appear as though she understood, even though she was really fearful, backing away from this awful woman. Holding her head up pretending not to be frightened, she said, 'No, No, I won't!' but inside she was shaking with trepidation.

'I don't know what you are talking about Maria, but I refuse to do anything like you told me. I won't and you cannot make me. As soon as I can, I will get away from this place. Talking about those sort of horrid things makes me feel sick, and you are sick, bringing me here when I was trying to be your friend'.

Speaking with weak bravado, she stared right into Maria's unfriendly eyes, and Maria just looked at her, quite startled that she appeared to be so innocent. Now she felt a little guilty about picking up this young woman who might be a really, decent kid. Inwardly she hoped the girl is a virgin, because Carlo will be pleased with her. However, she herself was feeling quite satisfied. This girl had a lot to learn, whether she liked it or not. Their customers would appreciate a new virgin for a change from the usual whores who lived there, even though she was young. It was done and too late now.

Going across to the wardrobe, she pulled out some flashy short skirts and low cut tops telling Patches, 'You put these clothes on after having a shower and be ready when the boss comes back. You will now be called Patty, so you'd better get a move on,' then she left the room thinking, _Oh well, she's just a stupid kid. What a shock she's in for. She'll soon find out!_ inwardly laughing to herself.

Patches had been feeling more alarmed at what Maria had said, but still sat on the bed and not in the clothes she'd been ordered to wear. When the door opened again, she had a defiant look on her face when the man called Carlo came in, and he stood there staring down at her, displeased and annoyed. A scowl again filled his face as he spoke.

'Didn't Maria tell you to shower and change your clothes?'

'Yes, she did, but I won't wear those awful clothes,' Patches replied, feeling worried at his nasty expression.

Her heart beat faster in dread and she felt instant fright flooding her body as his eyes changed. He was angry, and walked over to her slapping her twice, hard across her head. Grabbing her hair in his dirty hands, he pulled her off the bed roughly towards him along the floor, until she lay crumpled at his feet. For a minute Patches dreaded he was going to kick her with those big boots, then felt thankful that he didn't. Grabbing hold of her arm he glared at her his expression steely.

'You girl will do as you are told. No backchat bitch or you'll be sorry. Until you learn to obey us you will go hungry for a few days.'

His eyes were hard while looking at her, and he shook his head in temper. With that harsh remark, he let her go, walked from the room, locking the door behind him. Patches rolled away at his violent outburst, breaking down into whimpers, shaking with nervous anxiety, worried about the words he had uttered. Picking herself up from the floor she thought, _What can I do now?_ and lay down on the bed, dejection flooding through her mind. God had deserted her she decided. What else could she do, other than obey that horrid man?

He'd locked the door behind him, and she couldn't escape. She wondered, _Will Lana even bother look for me now?,_ although she knew Lana did not care about her at all. She never did, only pretending to for Andrew's sake. Patches prayed hoping that someone would soon notice she'd disappeared, and come searching for her, but they would never even to think looking at a place like this. She had no-one to help her at all and felt so sick and abandoned, not knowing what to do. Looking around the room she could see no windows, just bare walls. How am I going to breathe, she wondered? Never had she lived in a room without windows, and she gasped, wanting to feel some fresh air in her lungs. She tried the door, but it was tightly locked, then in frustration, she hit the walls with her hands until they were sore then gave up.

After a couple of days locked in that closed hot room, without food or water, she began to feel weak, thirsty and hungry but wouldn't give in. They came to the door, looked inside seeing she still had not changed her clothes as ordered to, then they disappeared. Her mouth was so dry she licked her lips, feeling empty and nauseated, and again she tried to open the door but it was still locked. So she thumped heavily on it calling hoarsely for a drink of water and kept on thumping hard.

At first no-one came, then after a while Maria opened the door asking, 'Are you ready to obey Carlo, you stupid girl?'

'Could I have some water please Maria, I feel sick.' Patches pleaded.

Maria went away returning instead with a glass of pale wine, which she handed to the girl telling her to drink that. By then being so thirsty, Patches did, even though it was sour, and made her choke and splutter. Still no food was brought in and by the end of the next day she was listless, miserable, and getting really desperate. Carlo came again to the room that evening, and with one look at her he called out in an irate voice.

'Maria, come here and bring some bread and cheese for this girl, she has to eat,' and soon a plate of food was brought in to her.

Patches ate slowly, her throat still dry, but next morning she felt a bit better, and sat on the bed ignoring whoever looked in at her. That night when the door opened, a new, older lady appeared. Taking Patches hand she stood her up, leading her across her to the shower cubicle then looked at the girl, smiling with friendly eyes.

Patches was so relieved to see someone nice, even though it was here, she touched her arm and pleaded, 'Can you take me away from here please. It is a horrible place and I am lost.'

Speaking firmly this lady said, 'Dearie, my name is Dancy, and I believe you are to be called Patty while you are working for us. Am sorry I cannot take you anywhere, so do have a shower dear, and freshen up. You will feel so much better, and I will come back and bring some other clothes for you to wear tonight.'

This woman's voice was soft and she seemed to be so much nicer towards her than the others had been. Although she looked very plump, she was wearing a long gown slit up the sides, and it was cut so low in front her heavy breasts were almost fully exposed. Patches was embarrassed and looked away, but this didn't seem to worry Dancy at all. She sat on the bed and very kindly said to Patches.

'I have been told you are very young and new at this game, so you have much to learn, duckie. If you are good and behave, you will earn some money. You must do whatever the men ask for and not complain. Carlo is a hard boss and does not like rebellious girls. Some of the men you will see are quite nice, but many won't be, and it's up to you how you get along with them.'

Patches just stood there listening to her shaking her head, confused at the words spoken. 'I don't understand any of that.' she said.

Nodding her head Dancy smiled again at Patches and continued, 'You will dear. Make sure you keep yourself clean, and try to look nice. From the first few nights when you are being broken in to this work, you will need to wear something for your protection against any sexual diseases, like one known as the clap.' she paused, taking a breath.

'Do you have any idea of what I am talking about now duckie? Dancy asked her.

Patches looked bewildered, and shook her head as questions ran through her mind, but she said nothing. She felt numb inside and terribly worried, not comprehending anything of what Dancy meant. Opening a nearby drawer Dancy pulled out some strange rubber things from the drawer, then showed Patches what they were for, where they had to be used and how to put them on a man.

Patches looked at her shocked, and in a weak voice pleaded, 'No, no, please Dancy. I cannot and won't do that to a man. It's rude and horrid. I don't want to touch those awful things, or touch men in any way!'

'Well duckie, I'm sorry but that's the way it has to be,' Dancy replied, looking pensively at this new girl. 'You will learn soon, whether you like it or not. Otherwise Carlo will come in and show you his way, and you won't like that duckie!'

She seemed to realize the girl's quandary and touched Patches on her arm in a friendly gesture. Finally she left the room to bring in other clothes for the girl to wear. After seeing those rubbers as they were called, Patches didn't want to touch or have anything to do with them, or even look at them at all. By then she was so tired and dispirited she didn't care what happened to her anymore. She just wanted to die! She knew she had to give in and obey them, dreading what was to happen in the next few days.

### CHAPTER 6

#### AN AWFUL NEW EXISTENCE

After having the shower Patches changed into the horrid clothes given to her, and soon Carlo came in to make sure she was ready. After he had checked, and felt pleased the girl had obeyed everything, he left without saying anything at all to her. This time she sat on the bed not speaking, aware she had no will power left or the strength to defy them. There was nothing she could do about this horrid new way of living which was beginning for her, which she would soon find would be repulsive and revolting.

For Patches, the thoughts of the first night experiences appeared to be alarming. Terrible images kept flitting through her mind as she remembered what Dancy had said, and they made her more terrified of what was to come. She had been told that Carlo was going to break her in and when that was due to occur he first came into her room.

Demanding, 'Get over there, strip off girl, and be quick about it. Then lay down over on that bed for me,' he told her pointing to the low dingy bed. Patches was slow to do this this, and embarrassed by her nakedness she lay on the bed and rolled over sideways, so he couldn't see her. He pinned her down flat and tightly with one arm while using his fingers to check her body and see if she was a virgin. This was not only embarrassing but frightening and she kept on moving out of his way as his fingers probed.

It hurt terribly and she cried out. 'Please stop, stop, don't do that, it's so painful, and hurts me too much!'

'Huh, this is good. She's just right,' he grunted realising that it was true, she was a virgin, so he stood there pleased, just staring at her young body.

Patches grabbed her dress to cover herself up, hating the touch of his dirty hands on her skin. With a satisfied grin Carlo leaned over, grasped her young breasts in his rough hands, saying with a laugh before he left the room, 'I'll be back tonight and you and I are going to have a real good time girl, you'll see!'

As soon as he was gone she went into the bathroom and washed herself again and again with the soap, scrubbing wherever he had touched her body until she was red and sore. Dreading the night to come, she asked herself, where is God, what have I done so wrong he has deserted me? She thought back to when she was younger over in Australia, and longed to be there again away from this horrid disgusting place. Unbeknown to her, Carlo was called away on his business and could not take her as he planned, but Patches was unaware of this, and worried all night about when he would return and what would happen to her then.

The next night to her horror, she was given her first customer. The man who entered her room was older with a big build, dressed in an untidy sailor's uniform. He came into the room, looked her over as she backed away, then without waiting for her to speak, pushed her onto the flimsy bed and spoke loudly, while pulling off his partly soiled clothing.

'Righto girl, give 'us a gander at what's 'idden under those duds!'

He was so big, she was scared and very slow, but he was impatient for her to strip, and as she did, he gloated, eyeing off her slim body.

'Bit on the skinny side,' he said in a whining voice, 'But what you've got will do,' he said now eager to follow his urges, so he opened up his fly.

In a scared timid voice Patches told him, 'I am new here, and know nothing. So please don't hurt me,' then cowered back on the bed, her legs tightly held together hoping he would not go ahead with his intentions, whatever they were.

When hearing the remark that she was an inexperienced girl, his eyes glinted and he grunted with pleasure at the thought she might be a virgin. It was not often he was that lucky. Eager to have her but in such a hurry, he fiddled stupidly while slipping on the condom, then forcing open her slender legs he laid his heavy weight down on her body, unconcerned at her frantic attempts to pull herself away. He was too heavy, and she could barely breathe or move anywhere. Patches could smell his foul breath above her face with his sweat drops dribbling onto her forehead and hair, and his body squashed her down on the bed, with her pinned underneath. Violently forcing himself up against her, ignoring her muffled cries of pain, his clumsy attempts continued. When he achieved penetration, Patches felt she had been torn asunder.

Shuddering and screaming, she desperately tried to move away from this dreadful agonising pain, but it was impossible. He was so big and clumsy and he cursed at her screaming, his hands and fingers grasping hold of her arms and shoulders, as he continued to shove hard at her on the bed while heaving up and down. Within a few minutes, he had finished. Grunting with the exertion, he rolled off as she squirmed away, covering herself up, still gasping with shock.

Realising from the terrible sharp pains she was feeling that she must be torn even bleeding, she lay there with her legs curled up, the sheer agony of it all searing through her lower body. Her hand clutched over her mouth as she cried out, 'Oh God, surely death must be far better than this!'

This intense pain was worse than anything she had ever experienced before in her life. The jagged throbbing she felt below seared through her body, and she moaned constantly into the wet covers, tears rolling down her face.

Feeling very pleased with his efforts, the sailor was satisfied, and leering over her, he said loudly to her dismay and horror. 'Not bad kid, but you'll have to learn to please me better. I will come back and do you over again, but next time I expect you to show me a lot more action than you did tonight.'

Though seeing she was upset and crying, he was uncaring, and dressed himself in a slovenly way to leave the room. Dancy the older lady, came in afterwards to check on Patches who was still huddled up sobbing on the bed. When seeing her injuries, she found some cream and a bottle of liquid then advised her what to do, in a sympathetic voice.

'Here dear is something to wash with, and this cream will help heal the bleeding. You know, the pain will go away soon lovey.'

Next morning she let Carlo know of the girl's condition. 'The new girl Patty will have to have a few days off to recover from the damage done by her first customer. It might become infected. Otherwise she will be useless to you. Perhaps she should have had another smaller customer first, as that one was a big feller.'

Carlo was not pleased, thinking to himself, _Damn, I wanted to have her myself, but this happens._ Having no choice, he had to reluctantly wait until the girl had recovered, though he was not concerned about her injuries. This was part and parcel of his business. Patches never knew what sex was or been told about it other than from the girl Shirley, at school, and she had no idea about men's expectations and needs. After having a few days off, from then on she would cower in the bedroom, dreading when the door opened again, not knowing who would enter. Similar nights continued for many months, with different partners, until the pain she suffered every time finally eased a bit. Each night she still feared it as whoever came there was no different.

As she healed, everything she had to do disgusted her, and she would think to herself, do all the girls here have to suffer this terrible way of living. She found that some men were so offensive, with the sickening variety of ways they wanted to use her for their sexual needs. Sometimes a few would try to talk for a bit beforehand, asking her questions, which she'd ignore, wondering what they'd do or ask for next. When she worked up the courage she beat on the door calling out for Dancy to come, and when she arrived, Patches pleaded with her.

'Dancy, please ask Carlo to let me go, I am no good at this work, I hate it. So please ask him. I will do anything else, other than this. I can clean up and cook a bit. You must do this, please I ask you.'

'Listen luvie', no, you have to be quiet and do as you are asked, or you might end up a lot worse. Don't annoy Carlo You belong to him and he can be so vicious!' Dancy told her and Patches gave up.

Often she would try to hide behind the door, hoping they'd go away when seeing nobody in the room, but this did not work either. Many men thought it was a game and laughed, as they pulled her protesting body out into their arms. Other men had cruel methods of using their hands, and some had vile expectations of what they wanted her to do to them. Having to use her mouth and her hands in different ways, until she hated it when being forced to do those sickening sexual acts. Afterwards she would be sick, revolted, vomiting and miserable, just wanting to die. How can those other girls do these terrible things, she asked herself? Not many of the men bathed or were clean, and their stale body odour was revolting when being so close to her.

Those terrible nights she would never forget, and her dreams were haunted by those hated men and their awful needs. Dreading every night, not knowing how long this way of living was to last, Patches felt despair and was almost suicidal, loathing all the men who did this to her. The clothes she was first given to wear became jaded, and she had to wash them all the time herself. She was never aware of any money which was handed to Carlo for the use of her body, but some food was bought in to her and she had to eat it or become sick. Often she would hear the other women outside, laughing and giggling as they walked along the passages, and she wondered, how can they be happy? Later every now and then, she was handed a little money, but was not allowed out at all, not even down the passage in case she tried to leave. This way of living filled her with a constant death wish, and she was daunted, almost giving up on wanting to live.

She asked Dancy, 'What good is money to me, when I cannot go out to use it. Other women here go outside.'

Dancy just nodded her head and said, 'Remember luvie, the day you show you like this work, and are willing to do this, Carlo will trust you and give you a bit of freedom, but not before that.'

He had forbidden her to leave the room knowing she would try to escape, even though she had no idea where this brothel building was located. It seemed like a prison to her, shut up there in the stuffy room from daylight until dark, attending to the needs of the dreadful line up of awful men. She would crings afterwards, washing and scrubbing herself at her skin and body continuously, until it was raw. Her heart filled with desolation as she thought, am I to die here? There was no one nice to talk to or give her any advice. The other girls were told she was sick, so they ignored her being there all the time. She'd slump on the bed, feeling so drained and miserable, wanting her life to end. Once she hid a knife given to her to eat with, but they checked her cutlery afterwards and forced her to give it up.

One day Dancy came in bringing her some newer clothes. 'Here Patty, try these on they might brighten you up,' she said. 'You need to do this luvie, just try. This is your life now, forget about anything else.'

Patches glanced at Dancy in a disheartened way, but did not speak, and Dancy was surprised that Carlo still kept this unwilling girl on at the brothel. Surely he must realise how it had affected her, but he said nothing. Patches stayed quiet, listless and apathetic, not caring anymore how she looked. When anyone spoke to her using her new name of Patty, she ignored them. Dancy would shake her head and leave the room feeling sorry for the young girl, seeing how different she was now to how she had been on her arrival. Pale, thin and withdrawn, she seemed much older than her real age.

One day Patches decided, why should I put up with this. Whenever I can, however I can, I will try to get away, I have to! After this resolve she felt so much better. Pretending to go along with their plans, she intended to get out of the building in any way she could, though knowing this might take time.

Back at the home where she had lived with that family, after a few days had passed and when Patches had not returned, Lana thought the girl had stayed away to worry her. She asked around to see if anyone had seen the girl, or knew where she had gone, but no-one seemed to have heard from her or had any ideas to help her. Being a little concerned was strange for Lana, but she decided to try the local school and ask there, so she did. Arriving and going inside, she spoke to one of the teachers who told her to speak to Mrs. James one of the teachers who taught Patches. When introduced, the teacher glanced at this woman wondering is she going to explain why Patches had not come to school for a while. Summing this woman up, she listened to her questions.

'I am concerned about Patches, my foster child. At first I thought she had gone off with a friend, then decided she was just staying away to worry me, but I don't know why! Do you have any suggestions of where she might be?' Looking blithely at Mrs James, who seemed perturbed at her words, Lana continued 'You know Mrs James, before my husband passed on, he did provide a good home for Patches. He was extremely fond of her, and it is only since his death my situation has not been so good. I cannot understand where the girl has gone, or how to find her.'

The teacher looked at her, remembering all the questions Patches had asked her once, and then guessed why the young girl had done this. She must have been extremely unhappy in this home, and the foster mother did not really seem to care. It showed in her off-handed attitude. Now quite worried, knowing why Patches may have disappeared, Mrs James offered her some advice.

'Mrs Stevens, you must go to the Police and notify them Patches is missing. She had come to me a while back asking questions which I consider you could have answered, as a mother would have. Obviously she never mentioned these to you, or you didn't care about this young girl as you should have done.'

Lana was about to protest at these words, but in a firm voice, the teacher added, 'I really believe the girl was troubled, and that would be the reason for her going away. She was very quiet and only had a few friends, but kept to herself most of the time. If I were you I would be most disturbed, and do something about it as any mother would do for her child, foster or otherwise.'

Lana looked stunned at her words, even annoyed that the teacher had spoken like that to her, but she still felt guilty. Her anger flared up as she replied nastily in a mean voice, 'Listen here Mrs James, I was not the girl's mother. We were only helping her for a time, but were not close. Whatever she said to you was probably not true, and that does not give you the right to speak to me that way. If you cannot help me, then I will look elsewhere. I have no desire to bring the law into it yet. She will turn up you see. Girls these days think they know everything.'

With that remark, and without looking at the teacher, Lana flounced out of the room and the teacher wisely said no more, but her mind was troubled about the girl disappearing so suddenly. She was even tempted to notify the Police, but decided to wait a while. Lana returned to their pitiful lodgings, and after having a few drinks suddenly remembered that letter she had found some time earlier. This time she searched everywhere for hours, and when looking in the back of a drawer she finally found it. Picking the letter up and turning it over, she quickly ripped it open where Andrew had stuck it down. While undoing it, the first thing she noticed, was that there was an Australian stamp on the envelope, and when checking the address saw the name of a legal firm at the top, and it was one she did not know. The date on the letter was quite a few years ago.

Reading it, she saw the lawyers had asked Andrew why he hadn't kept in touch with them, and that they were going to have the authorities in Sydney and America soon contact him about having Patchula returned to Australia now. Her future had been settled and organised there, and the legal details of the parent's estate were completed. The lawyers insisted that Andrew arrange passage on the first available ship to Australia with someone to accompany the girl as she could not come back by boat alone. They would forward the necessary money to cover these ongoing costs.

Lana was astounded by this, reading it over and over again. Why hadn't Andrew told her and the girl about this change decided in her life. Why keep it hidden all this time, when Patches could have returned to Australia ages ago and been out of their lives sooner. Mystified for a while it suddenly hit her, and she was furious, shaking with temper. Of course no wonder, she thought. He must have had a stupid crush on the girl, and didn't want her to leave him. It was impossible he could have loved Patches as a woman, when he had Lana his wife, she decided. This girl was so young and innocent and knew nothing about life, until as she thought, Andrew had changed that.

Livid with rage, she threw the letter on the floor, pacing up and down the room. There was now a problem of what to do! Patches had disappeared somewhere and she could not tell the lawyers in Australia, as for sure it would bring many complications into her life. Then she worried, would the teacher at school do anything as well? Making up her mind, she picked up the letter screwed it up and threw it across the room. That was that! However after having another two glasses of wine, she picked the letter up again, straightened it out and stashed it away in a box in the cupboard. So for now nothing could be done, and Lana just went on with her life, passing the time away waiting until Patches returned.

Within a few months with no word from anyone, Lana began to fear something had really happened to the girl. Lana had made very few friends over time since Andrew had died, but there was one man in particular named Harry whom she liked. A rather thin, older man, bald, not well dressed, but who seemed to like her, as she often called into his lodgings for a visit. Deciding to go for a walk to visit him, she went down the streets to find his rooms, and after going inside Lana explained the reason she was there, telling him most of what had happened. Thinking for a while about the disappearance of Patches he offered her this advice.

'Lana,' he said, 'You and I could try the shelter downtown and ask around to see if the girl has gone to them for help. Maybe someone has seen her down there, or knows where she may have ended up. She might have found herself a friend to help her, perhaps moved in with someone else, you don't know.' He said this with a reluctant voice, thinking in his own mind that the girl had run away.

Getting to know Lana, he knew she could be quite selfish, mainly thinking of herself and her needs. She often asked Harry for money, and only ever talked about things she wanted to do, but as Harry had a soft spot for her, he hoped after her husband had died, she might soon settle in with him to be his woman.

'Well I guess we'll have to try that place first, but it is such a nuisance looking all over the town for her.' Lana said. 'The girl must have run off.'

The two of them made their way to the shelter and after asking a few questions they found that no-one had seen the girl for quite a while. Disappointed at this, Lana thanked Harry, who asked her to come home with him for a drink, which she did. Soon they were having a cuddle, and as time went by her search for Patches was forgotten. The next day after returning to her room and thinking about Patches missing, Lana tried to remember the time when her son Sam was last there with them. Did he mention anything about places the girl might go? Yes of course, she thought, Patches often walked through the parks after school. Lana now began to search every park where she thought Patches had visited, but with no success. Perhaps, she decided, the girl may have befriended someone who took her away, but knowing the shy character of Patches, she doubted this.

Now for the very first time she felt strangely concerned, and was considering going to the Police, then she thought about what she remembered of her husband's behaviour with Patches, and this made her angry again. Maybe by now, the teacher had gone to the Police about those questions Patches had asked her. Hardening her heart, she changed her mind and found the letter the lawyers had sent. Carefully she wrote, explaining to them that Patchula had gone away and she was unaware of where the girl was, but she also remarked Patches had not been very happy since the death of Andrew her husband. She also mentioned that when in America, the girl had kept her own name, and she may have changed it again so as not to be found.

Re-reading what she wrote, she decided this would do and she'd post it tomorrow. Once they received this letter she hoped they might search for the girl and leave them alone. Lana did not want to be bothered with the trouble of finding this stupid girl anymore. She had been a nuisance all the time since they had returned to America. With that thought Lana brushed Patches out of her life with no concern at all for the whereabouts of the girl they had fostered. All she wanted to do now is get on with her life. The next day while sitting in the house, Lana was surprised to hear a knock on the front door. When answering it, she saw to her astonishment that Mrs. James the teacher from the school was standing there. Suddenly Lana felt nervous and quite apprehensive.

'Would you mind if I came inside to have a word, Mrs. Stevens?' the woman asked, looking determined.

Lana warily asked, 'What is it? Have you heard anything from Patchula?' and she reluctantly moved aside to let the teacher through the front door.

'No, I'm afraid not. I was hoping you could give me some good news. It worried me that Patchula has so far not returned to school. You did notify the police she was missing, didn't you?'

Lana felt very uncomfortable with this particular woman staring at her, asking so many questions and making her feel so guilty. 'No not yet. I kept hoping the girl would return. I know it has been a few weeks, but I was sure she was staying with a friend.'

'Good heavens Mrs Stevens. Surely you knew that Patchula had very few real friends? She mostly kept to herself and was very shy. I cannot believe after all these months you haven't done anything at all to find her.' she exclaimed with disbelief. 'That is shocking! She has been missing for many months and that is far too long.' Mrs James was astonished, and showed it.

Shrugging her shoulders, Lana said nothing, avoiding the teacher's eyes. 'Huh, don't know why you are interested in her. After all she is my problem, not yours'. She grunted indifferently, turning away from Mrs. James's shocked gaze.

The teacher grabbed Lana's shoulder, shaking it in anger. 'My God woman, what is the matter with you?! What sort of a mother are you? I can't believe you don't care in any way about your foster child!'

Taken aback, Lana angrily pulled her arm away as the teacher continued. 'If you do not go to the authorities today, I am, and will report this dreadful neglect of your foster daughter. It is incredible and shameful. Believe me Mrs. Stevens this will cause a lot of trouble for you. Heaven knows where that poor girl is today. She may not even be alive, or could have been kidnapped and taken away to another country. You are a disgrace, and should not have been allowed to foster anyone. The law should know about your dreadful neglect of this young girl!'

After saying this, the very angry and disturbed teacher turned to leave the room, her body trembling. She was so worried about Patches, and annoyed at the mothers shocking indifference to the girl. Reaching the door she pointed back at Lana, 'I will check with the local police tomorrow to see if you have done as I asked and will make sure of this.' and she quickly walked away down the street.

Really worried she could be in deep trouble with the authorities, Lana decided to take a walk to see Harry later that afternoon, and the next day on his suggestion, she packed her meagre belongings to move in and live with him. However a few days of considering the implications of Lana's neglect, he decided it might be better for them both to go to another town to try and get work, as he needed to make some money. Taking Lana with him, the week afterwards they caught a bus to a town further down the coast, to start afresh. Lana was not thinking about her son or that Patches may return. All she wanted to do was get as far away as possible from that teacher and the authorities, fearful of reprisal.

The next morning, Mrs. James contacted the Police finding out that Lana the foster mother, had not spoken to them as she promised. The Officer there offered this advice, 'We will look into this, but cannot guarantee results straight away, as many young girls run away from home. Some are never seen again, because they become mixed up with bad company, or they do not want to come home,' he told her, and Mrs James left with a worried heart, feeling so sorry for the young girl.

Back at the brothel, the long months passed with no relief at all for this girl whose her name was now Patty. With rarely anyone to talk to, she had given up on being released from the brothel, and kept to herself. Many customers used her as she was younger than the other whores, even though often she did not appear to be very well. The men just did what they came and paid for. Patches wondered if any of the other women at the brothel felt this way, or if they ever liked this disgusting work. Surely some of them felt as she did, having to pursue this awful way of living. She realised she might never get away, even after many attempts, and almost resigned herself to this horrid life. But she always had the deep desire that one day she would be able to leave somehow. She had made up her mind to try any opportunity, whenever or if it arrived.

After the nice people Patches had loved and lived with before in her life, these by far were the worst. Often she would refuse to eat hoping to become sick and not be made to work, but a few hard hits from Carlo would be the result of this rebellion. After receiving those she would sit in a corner shaking, not wanting to work, but could hear other prostitutes talking out in the passage. Sometimes even men's voices echoed through the thin walls and they seemed to be happy enough. Every now and then when alone, she would open the door to quietly try sneaking down the passage, but whenever she seemed to be close to the end, one of the female keepers would catch her and take her back to the hated room.

As months passed, Maria hardly came near her at all, but Dancy would check on her from time to time, telling her she was doing well even though she didn't look it, and Dancy accepted this.

Patches pleaded with her, 'Please Dancy can I go outside just to feel fresh air in my lungs, and see the sky once more,' but that was not allowed as they knew she would run, and all would feel the results of Carlo's anger.

She decided if she could not escape she would rather die, and one evening she even tried to cut her wrists with the blunt knife from her evening meal. After finding her in that situation they kept a watch on her, as Carlo was very annoyed with her suicide attempt, nearly deciding to get rid of her, except for the money her young age brought in. Time dragged on, but Patches was not able to keep track of the months, until one night when something unexpected happened.

### CHAPTER 7

#### UNEXPECTED EVENTS

That evening at the Brothel, a well-dressed younger man came into the room and he looked at her in a different way. Of average height, a little taller than she was, quite slim, but he was dressed in clean neat clothes. With a pleasant face, she also noticed he had kind grey eyes. When seeing her obvious reluctance and nervous state, he noticed she was very thin with a pale haggard appearance, but realised she had once been pretty. His attention however was drawn to her face, which was not white, but a pale honey colour. Quite unusual he thought, for the local prostitutes here.

Speaking to her in a quiet voice to calm her nerves, he said, 'It's alright love, if you are not well or not ready for me, I won't ask you to do what is expected of you now. Can you tell me your name and something about yourself, I am indeed willing to listen.'

Patches was so relieved at hearing a friendly voice for the first time in a year, and pleased at his understanding attitude, that she finally broke down. Tearfully she told him everything.

'The name they gave me here is Patty, but that is not my real name. Do you know I was taken away from my home a long time back, over a year I think, when I was sixteen. Those horrid men kidnapped me and brought me here, forcing me to be a whore, and I hate it, and have desperately wanted to leave. But I didn't know how to get away, as they watch me all the time.' and she paused for a minute, tears rolling down her face.

He was quite startled at the honesty in her words, but listened as she continued. 'They won't let me even leave the room! I would rather die than stay here any longer, and I have to get away, I have to! I even tried to kill myself and that made them angry, so they beat me'!

She began to cry, her shoulders shook and her hands reached out taking hold of his. He was really stunned to find this situation at a brothel, and astonished at the desperation in her voice. Also he was touched by the sincerity and pleading she had shown to him, as he'd never come across this situation before. To Patches, this man seemed to be a nicer class of person than those she normally met, and she could see he was surprised at her unusual request. His voice was gentle while answering her, and he stroked her head.

'Let me tell you something, my dear. My name is Robert Wallan and I have a business here in town. After my wife died I was so lonely, and started to come here just a little while back, but now I am pleased to find you Patty. You do not seem to be the usual common type of whore they have here, and after what you have revealed to me, I am quite disturbed by it.'

He paused and put his hand under her chin to look at her pale distressed face. 'I can see that you must have been, and still are, a good living young girl, very different person to the women who normally work here. I do understand why you are so desperate, and perhaps I may be able to do something for you.'

Patches stopped sobbing and looked up, not believing this man was being so kind, and really wanted to help her. For the first time in ages, her hopes started to rise. Was he just saying this or was he telling the truth? She felt uncertain, as she has learned that men often lie to get their own way.

Robert continued speaking, 'Don't give up Patty. I like you and will come back and talk to you again tomorrow night. You can be sure I will not say anything to those who run the brothel here. Your words are safe with me.'

After he had finished, he left her room, telling the head woman he was pleased with her and paid the necessary money. Patches felt so old, but knew she was still only a young girl, and at last was so grateful to find a really nice man who had listened to her, not just forcing her to go to bed with him. She knew now she would plead for his help to leave here. After he paid her a few more visits, and because he was nicer than others, she let him have sex with her, because he treated her gently. When he listened to her speaking, he held her hand to make her feel comfortable with him, and eventually she did. His presence made her happy and she knew now he was a genuine understanding person. At his next visit she pleaded with him when again asking for his help to get away, her dark eyes full of tears, and he finally agreed.

'Patty, one night I will work out a plan and come and try to take you out of this brothel,' he said and she realised he really meant this. The relief she felt filled her heart.

'You have no idea how much this means to me Robert, and you have given me so much hope it is unbelievable,' she told him, leaning over to kiss him on the face.

Her attitude had changed, as she did believe he would really help her as he promised, so they waited for a while and planned for the day when she could escape. For the first time in ages, she felt God had come back into her life, and thanked him for sending Robert to her. This chance of leaving had made her a little happier, and she began to look a lot better, so much so, that Maria decided the girl had realized at last this is where she has to stay. Late one night, when Robert next arrived and asked for her, he paid the woman and went to her room to give her his news.

'Listen carefully Patty. I have brought some extra clothing for you under my jacket, so here is my plan. After you put them on later you must be quick. So if there are no men coming down the passage and no-one is taking much notice, quietly but very quickly leave this room. Slip down towards the back door which is along that big passage, and go to the left. Make sure no-one is around there, and I will be waiting for you in the street when you come outside. I will stay here in the room after you have gone, then will leave and see them out front. They won't guess you have slipped out, and if anyone sees you dressed that way, they will think you are a customer here. But be careful,' he warned, 'and keep' yourself well out of their sight with your head down, as the boss sometimes sits in the back room.'

At first she was not only touched by his concern but so excited and pleased, greatly relieved at his plan. Looking at the shirt, trousers and jacket he had bought along with him, she smiled giving him a big hug, whispering, 'Oh thank you so much Robert. You are such a good man with a good heart, and I am ever so grateful to leave this horrible life I have been forced to live.'

Though inwardly agitated and even trembling a bit, she dressed in those clothes as she was told. He waited until she was ready, then he showed her how to quietly open the door and in which direction to go to. A few minutes later, feeling anxious but scared, and wearing the dark coloured clothes and jacket he'd given her to cover her thin body, she put on the loose cap which hid her hair and bid him goodbye. Opening her door, checking to see that no-one was around, she looked back at him before leaving the room. Walking quietly along the passage with her head down, she pretended to be a regular customer, but shook with fear so much it seemed to her that she'd be noticed. Down the passage she walked quickly past the other rooms, and turned the corner. Finding no-one watching or being anywhere around the back door, she slipped easily outside into the yard.

Apprehensive, her senses on edge but alert, she hurried along into the street behind the building to stand there her nerves tingling with anxiety, and waited until Robert appeared. He left her room after she had gone, paid the fee then went to his car, and drove down the road around to the street where she was waiting. Once in his car he offered to take her to his home and give her refuge and some money, but she did not feel it was the right thing to do straight away. When getting in she asked him to please take her first to any respectable place far away from here, but he was reluctant to do this, worried about her safety in a strange place.

'Very well Patty, I will do what you ask for but only as long as you agree to come back and see me over the next few days, when you have recovered from this experience.'

Of course she was full of gratitude for his help and agreed with his wishes. 'Yes of course Robert I will do that, after you take me to another place first please. Just get me away from here and this dreadful hateful house, please. I have been here too long, and am scared they will check my room and find me gone, then remember you were my last customer and come looking for you.'

Her voice was so desperate he agreed to this, understanding her feelings and fear of discovery. Being driven to a decent lodging house for the night, she thought it was so wonderful to be at this nice many roomed building where she spent that night alone and safe. After having a nice warm relaxing bath for the first time in years, she slept soundly, so thankful for this kind man's help. She could not believe she had finally escaped from that hell, but was still worried that Carlo or his men would come looking for her everywhere. The next day she rested, not game to go out into the streets, even though these Lodgings seemed to be a fair distance away from the brothel.

That afternoon she received a message from Robert, and went to meet him downstairs inside the far end of the lodging house sitting room. He was late, so at first she slowly walked outside and down the road hoping he would come along in his car. Then she suddenly remembered that this was an area she did not know, and quickly made her way back to the Lodgings to wait for him there. Shortly afterwards he arrived and she sat in his car as he drove her for miles into a nearby town to his apartment. Once inside she walked up the stairs to enter the main room which was nicely furnished, and Robert came in and held her hand leading her to the table to sit down and talk.

'You know Patty, I have never done this before, but you seem to have had a really hard time and I can understand how you were feeling. Once you become used to being with me, I will help you to find a better way of making money, but otherwise, you can stay here with me as long as you like. I would be grateful if you did this, as I do like you my dear. When you are rested and ready to try that, I will not expect any more from you, only that you relax, get well and feel better. This will be so good for you and help you to get over your past.' Robert paused and with that remark he gave her a hug, 'I have to go to a business meeting now, so help yourself to the food, unwind and have a rest or just sleep '

With a light kiss on her face, he left the apartment before she had a chance to thank him. Patches could not believe how her luck had changed. She knelt down and prayed, thanking God for what had happened. Staying with Robert at his apartment soon became a wonderful new way of life and she loved it. She was free and so relieved not to be in that dreadful place anymore, so her mental state improved as the weeks passed by. The first time she had to cook a meal, she explained to him she'd never tried this before and that it was a new experience for her. With many mistakes she did prepare a meal, which he ate and laughed at her worrying about it. Every day when Robert arrived home, she greeted him with a smile and a hug. He was very tolerant and kind towards her, not expecting Patches to sleep with him in payment for his help, unless she wanted to. She was still frightened to go out in case the men from the brothel came looking for her, until one day Robert came home with a new idea, which he thought would help her.

'Patty you are still young, and could attend classes at a nearby school. Learn to become a secretary or take up singing or Art, as you told me you like that. Perhaps you could try something else new. What do you think about that?' he asked.

'My goodness Robert,' she said happily, 'What a wonderful idea! Will this cost any money for the courses, as I have very little of my own?'

'Yes but don't worry, as I will lend it to you until you have completed the courses and are free to take on work. Then you can pay me back later, if you wish to.' he assured her. His ideas appealed and she knew they were.

Feeling so much better in her mind, and looking nicer, as her appearance had improved from when he had first met her, she agreed to have a look at what this school offered. Still only a very young woman but with no experience in the outside world, she knew this was a good opportunity for her to better herself. Robert was keen to see her do this, knowing at her young age she needed to complete her ability to find work and finish her education in some way. At this school there were many classes, so she wanted to try basic office work first, also photography which was a new idea she'd thought of doing, instead of Art that she had tried before as a child.

There at the adult learning classes, she found they were interesting, and absorbed all the lessons quickly and proficiently, for someone who had left her schooling too early. Because she felt happier she was eager to show she was capable of improving and adapting to new things. After some months when almost eighteen, she thought that by considering a hospital aide or nursing course, it would reveal to her ways of keeping healthy and it was a sensible choice.

Her talent, especially in photography showed and she had improved a lot, and now with Robert's help she purchased a special camera. She learned quickly how to use it the correct way with photographing scenery outside, people and so much more. She also enjoyed the nursing course and was eager to try it out as a job, whenever she could. Happy for the first time in years, Patches looked almost pretty, though wearing makeup had not been considered at any time.

Her happiness showed in her eyes and her attitude, and it was easier to smile, and Robert loved to see that. Until now she had not thought or asked to change her name back to what is was, though she had always hated the one given to her at the brothel. After a few months passed, she found that the idea of taking another name would soon become necessary.

She started singing again and after ten months had passed with this training, she eventually became so proficient, proving to Robert she had a beautiful voice. To her surprise, she was asked to appear in a concert to sing at a local Theatre, and happy and pleased about this she remembered her earlier thoughts about her name, and mentioned it to Robert.

'I have decided I might change my name before attempting to do anything at all in public.'

Wondering why, Robert was curious, 'Alright Patty, why this idea and why now? It seems a rather strange time to change your name.'

'Robert, please think. The name of Patty I've used for so long was never my real name, and it reminds me too much of those dreadful years in the brothel which were hateful. I am trying hard to begin a new life, so I need a new and different name. Don't you understand?'

With a sympathetic smile while putting his arms around her, he agreed. 'Of course, my dear I do understand. I should have considered that. So, if I cannot call you Patty, what is it to be?'

Thinking for a minute she answered, her eyes crinkling at the corners, a curious smile on her face. 'I am going to call myself by my adopted name given to me first by my parents as a child, when over in Australia. You would never guess what it is, Robert.'

He laughed at her, 'Are you really going to make me guess?'

His heart filled up overwhelmed with feelings for her, and he noticed how pretty she looked right then, with her eyes smiling and being so happy. He was not aware at that very moment she knew she really cared for him, as he was such a good friend towards her.

'No, no, I won't' keep you in suspense. I was named Patchula Tia Montarro. Now isn't that a wonderful name to use in public,' she replied with a cheeky grin.

Robert stood there quite amazed. 'Well no, I'd never guess you had such a remarkable, notable name, my dear. Was that really the name from your childhood?'

'Not at first when I was very young. No I don't think so.' she replied. 'My memory is a bit hazy, but I am sure when I was brought over to Darwin from the islands during the Tsunami and floods as little child, it was then my name first became Patches. This was given to me by the minister and his wife who saved me at the time, when I lost my mother and family, and mainly because my clothing was torn and in pieces. I really like that name, and it stuck even though my parents had changed it at my adoption.'

'Well, what a story you have there, my dear and that name Patches is really different, but not like you are now.' Robert exclaimed. 'Though hardly the name for a photographer. However the long unusual name your parents gave you at adoption is not only different, but impressive.'

'Well', she said 'It seems that Patchula Tia Montarro is re-born, and will be my name from now on. Think I'd better just call myself Patchula in public and leave it at that. What do you think Robert? If you like, you can call me Patches when here at home and Patchula when out with me. Is that too confusing for you?'

'Of course not, my dear, whatever you say, Patches,' and a grin flitted across his face, then smiled fondly at her as she spoke.

He looked at this young woman, remembering everything she had gone through, and his admiration for her increased so much his heart was touched. She had become so very dear to him, and he guessed she felt this in her heart. Her new career began, and Patchula soon found that the singing performances she gave at different venues helped her to start earning money for the first time in her life. She was popular, and once known received many requests to perform.

She had always wanted to pay Robert back, and because she still lived in his apartment her feelings towards him began to deepen. He was a truly pleasant man with a gentle nature and a good job and so easy to like; especially as he was very fond of her and it showed. He now called her Patches as she now always thought of herself, but when addressing her in public it was Patchula Montarro, as she had requested. A year or more flew past, with Robert very pleased at her progress with photography as well. She seemed to have a great aptitude for this art, and learned so quickly, taking her camera everywhere she managed to travel to, even out into the country for outdoor photos. These photos became very professional after such a short time, so he arranged for some of her best work to be placed into the papers, and later into magazines, using her public name.

By now, Robert had strong feelings for her, even though she was still a young woman, just over twenty. Nevertheless, he did not press her to show how she felt towards him after all she had gone through for years. He just knew she cared for him and he was satisfied with that. Knowing that she was contented and he really enjoyed her living with him in the house. The thought of her leaving for any reason had never been considered by either of them in all the time she had been there. Why would she when now she felt so happy with everything that had occurred over the last couple of years.

### CHAPTER 8

#### DANGER IN A NEW VENTURE

One evening two months later, while doing an outside photo shoot for a magazine in another part of the city, she finished using the camera, packed it up and took a walk down the street for a break. It was in an area she was not familiar with, but she found walking around different districts often gave her opportunities to take good photographs of unusual subjects. Reaching the end of the street, she could hear a lot of noise and music coming from a nearby older building that seemed to be full of people celebrating, so she stopped for a few minutes to listen.

While quietly standing there for a few minutes, and being alone, it drew the attention of a group of noisy men who had just left the party. They came out into the street, a few who were not drunk, but most wobbling around close by in a half drunken stupor, when they spotted her. Suddenly wary at seeing them, she turned quickly to walk back down the street, thinking nervously, I hope they go the other way. In her haste, she dropped the bag holding her camera, and had to stoop to pick it up.

Within seconds, before she had the chance to move far, they drew around. She was surrounded by them, all heckling her, stumbling and laughing. A little afraid, fear in her eyes, Patches heard their coarse suggestions and stupid drunken remarks as she tried to leave, but they blocked her only way of getting out. Three of them just waited there watching her and the others, before they moved in closer around her.

'What's the hurry, lovey, don't go, We'll 'elp you,' one man said.

Their voices sounded so loud in her ears and she became really scared. Now touching and pushing her as she attempted to move away from them, until one man grabbed hold of her elbow jerking it backwards, and she could not go anywhere at all. He glanced slyly at his friends beckoning them to help him. Other half-drunken men were trying to get closer and were all over her, while talking in slurry voices, eyes bleary, their breaths smelling of liquor as some called out again, 'Hey you, what's the hurry, lovey. Don't go.'

Startled, and with sickening apprehension in her face, she hastily pulled herself backwards from their hands attempting to pull away from the noisy bunch and run down the street. The fearful trepidation running through her body made her legs weak and useless, and she stumbled, losing her balance. They muttered crude remarks, their faces expressing their meanings in a sickening way. The three men who seemed almost sober just waited until they took action. All were laughing at her futile efforts to escape, holding so roughly onto her clothing that it ripped. Abruptly, two of them grabbed the clothing on her back, tearing the dress, dragging her roughly towards them, which caused her to fall. Petrified now, she screamed out loudly, her body shivering with foreboding and absolute fear. The party music was still playing and it filled the air drowning out her cries.

'Go away, you're all drunk! Leave me alone, please go away!' she screamed out in, but in vain. Again she called, 'God, dear God, someone help me please, anybody!' she called, but by now her voice was shaking and barely audible.

One man whispered, grinned while pawing her over, 'We're here, sweet 'art, we'll help you.' His mates laughed at this agreeing with him.

As she tried hard to pull herself away from the hands which were all over her, one cunning man became angry. 'Don't you like us? Hey come on, be nice, we're your friends.'

Another one drawled 'We're going to 'elp you, aren't we.' saying this to his mates who were tugging and pulling at her torn clothing. Pointing to her he laughed, 'Look at 'er, boys, she's a bit of alright.'

'Yeh, she's ours. Let's do it,' agreed another one, the perspiration dribbling down his face and his mouth as he smirked, stirred on by his mates and her obvious fear.

Fearfully she began to beat at them with her arms and hands, struggling to break loose as they shouted encouragement to each other, until anger overtook her fear, and she fought back. Everything happened so quickly, as without any hesitation the whole pack of men, some intoxicated, but the cunning, stronger ones grabbed her arms and legs dragging her back into their midst. Ignoring her frantic efforts of screaming and struggling against them, her legs kicked wildly as a dirty hand was placed hard across her face, the nails digging into her skin. Cruel arms seized her, and there was nothing she could do to stop this dreadful assault.

Forcefully pulling Patches inside the tall wooden fence into the nearby back yard, smelly hands clamped over her mouth. Patches felt giddy, sick inside her stomach almost fainting, and for a minute she thought the noise around seemed to be easing. No-one could hear any of this, because the noise the music from the party covered the disturbance. They pushed her down onto the rough ground with yells and drunken laughter, though she frantically twisted her body, thrashing on the ground and kicking at them desperately.

When attempting to cry out once more, someone forced her head down holding her around the throat, until she could barely breathe. Feeling pain in her cheeks, she shook her head sideways trying to dislodge the fingers there and bit down hard on the hand over her mouth. He yelled out, 'You f-- bitch', swearing constantly, and punched her face. Blackness filled her head then she knew no more.

Fiercely ripping her clothing off, tearing at her underwear, her arms pinned down on the ground. Insanely excited, the mob went berserk, each crazy half-drunken man using her like a toy, though half of them found that their efforts were useless because of the liquor they had drunk. Men cursed as they forced themselves on her, falling over each over in the struggle, crazed with drunken stupidity.

Her body was bruised, ribs broken by the weight of their bodies and her slight frame broken and knocked around. Finally, someone from a nearby building heard the disruption, had looked out and called the Police. When they quickly arrived, the assault was over as some had gone, and many of the men had staggered off, with a few drunken stragglers remaining laying on the ground near the battered body of the young woman.

Hearing a deep friendly voice in her ears Patches slowly opened her eyes and looked around, feeling sore, distressed, in pain and injured and very weak. This man was speaking to her, but she was still in a daze, not able to understand his words. Nearby she could see two men in uniform pushing a few men into their wagon. Beside her, the policeman was awkwardly trying to conceal her naked body with her clothes which were sprawled around, as Patches sat up. When she attempted to clothe herself she couldn't, gasping with the pain felt all over her ribs, arms, body and face.

He helped her up, but she found it was too hard to stand, noticing blood running down her legs and arms, and more from a deep gash on her cheek. With the policeman's arms around her, she could not walk properly, just stumbled weakly, and he called for help to carry her to another vehicle parked nearby. When inside and in a weak voice, she asked what was happening and who are these men helping her now. It was obvious to the Policemen her memory of this vicious attack had been erased by the shock.

One of the other Senior policemen came over to her as she slumped in the car, dazed and not comprehending the situation and dismayed by her appearance, he exclaimed, 'Good grief, are you alright Miss? Can you tell us what happened to you? Who did this to you Miss?'

The first man quickly spoke to him, closed the door, then he drove quickly her to the nearest Hospital run by nuns, where she was attended to and treated for her injuries. That day, the assault and the appalling rape was reported, and the next day when she finally recovered, some of her memory returned, and she was able to talk. Her friend Robert was contacted, and he rapidly arrived at the Hospital. Seeing her condition he too was appalled. Her eyes were blackened and she was bruised all over her arms, neck, face and obviously her body, with deep scratches showing everywhere. One deep injury to the side of her left cheek was so bad it had to be stitched. With many broken ribs, and her spine and one leg badly bruised, any internal injuries were not obvious at the time.

'My God Patty, what has happened to you?' Robert asked, still shaken by her appearance. 'I was informed you had left the photo shoot earlier and not come back, so I have been searching all over the town for you since. Thank God you gave them my name.'

He was horrified, and could see how badly she was hurt, but when trying to tell him what had happened she whispered weakly, 'It's no good Robert, I cannot remember anything anymore,' closing her eyes as she faded away into unconsciousness. Robert waited anxiously around to hear the Doctor's report.

At the Catholic hospital to where she was driven, a Doctor arrived to examine her and realized the terrible rape had caused her to fall into a coma, a condition which lasted for some weeks. The pain relief she was given helped her body to mend while unconscious, but Robert sat all that night, returning day after day to watch her progress. He had never seen her so terribly injured, and he felt angry and upset at what she had gone through, but he asked the Police if they caught any of the offenders. Because of her condition they hadn't been identified yet.

She stayed there for six weeks, then began to improve daily, and after recovering, the police came to speak to her when her memory returned. When checking through some police photos, Patches slowly identified some of her attackers who were well-known to the Police, but some she did not know. The awful attack caused her mind to wander, and she was not able to sleep well, with continual bad dreams returning, as in nightmares. Not wanting this young woman to leave the hospital in that condition, the Head Nun made a suggestion.

'My dear, you should come to our Convent and stay until you have recovered from this dreadful trauma. We'll take care of you and you will be safe.'

Realising how she felt, Patches agreed to this kind suggestion, and told Robert about this when he came, but then, a few days later before leaving the hospital, she was given some bad news.

The Doctor quietly told her, 'I am sorry Miss Montarro, but because of the damage caused to your body by this rape, it will be impossible for you to have your own children.'

'Oh no, why did this happen to me now?' she asked sadly. 'What more can go wrong with me?'

She was very distressed at this remark, as she always hoped one day to have a family of her own. The other worry was the nasty red mark running down across one side of her cheek, which seemed so disfiguring to her. She had overheard one young nurse whisper, 'That poor girl! That terrible scar will always show.'

After going to the convent and barely speaking to anyone, she hid her feelings, soon withdrawing into herself. Her mind was numb, and even though Reverend Mother would talk to her, often trying to break through the trauma she suffered, it seemed nothing was helping. After staying at the convent for some time, she very slowly began to show signs of becoming so much better. Her health gradually changed but she was still inwardly disturbed by the bad news the doctor had given her.

Robert was also affected by the state of her mind, and came many times to visit, sitting beside the bed talking to her, while wondering how she would ever manage to cope after this. This dreadful attack and rape came at a time when she had just recovered from her previous terrible life at the brothel, and she had been doing so well. Would it be possible for her to deal with her life now, he wondered. Could she ever regain the training she had undertaken and the future possibilities she had worked so hard for?

During this period, Robert worked for a Government department, and he had previously decided to join up in the Navy, but he realized now Patty may not stay with him because of her condition. Eventually after many months of recuperating in the Convent, Patches began to finally understand how the attack had changed her strength and emotions.

Soon after speaking to the Mother Superior she said, 'Mother Superior. I have considered staying on here to become a nun. What do you think of that idea?' even though Patches knew she did have feelings for Robert.

The Mother Superior remarked,' Perhaps my dear, you should wait for a while before deciding on trying this. Emotion or distress will always affect your decisions and this is a very serious step to take.'

Patches decided to wait, and because of the nasty scar, she began to arrange her hair another way, letting strands of it partially hang down the scarred side of her face. Robert noticed that it seemed to be having a psychological effect on her personality, as now she was more reticent than usual, barely speaking to him. Over six more months, Patches thought about her life and made a decision. Realising that her life had been so badly affected, first at the brothel and now by the assault, and other than her friend Robert, she now carried a deep hatred for men inside herself.

This was like an insidious poison in her veins, when she slowly recalled everything that had happened had been caused by men. Trying to blot it all out seemed useless, and she knew this hatred would make her feel bitter in her heart, and may take years to get over. Now was not the time to become a nun, as her feelings ran deep, and she was deeply traumatised by everything that had occurred to her. Just before he joined the Navy, Robert asked her to marry him, and she took his hand gently explaining why she couldn't.

'Dear Robert I do really care for you, but now as I am unable to have children I know this is one thing you would have wanted, and I am so sorry. I cannot marry you, ever even though I do love you so much,' and her eyes filled with tears for him.

She kissed him softly, realizing her words would upset him, but she was unable to think otherwise. She would have married him before the dreadful attack had occurred if he had asked her, but he was unaware of this and now it was too late. She was still so conscious of the horrible scar on her face, and worried it may affect his feelings for her every time he saw it. Disappointed and resigned to her decision, he travelled north to a larger city called Medford to join up immediately, and found he was called up to go overseas to join the troops.

Patches had agreed to stay and help the Sisters, and with their assistance, she moved further North to the larger hospital at Medford. Taking on nursing there and remembering the previous aide's course she had done, helped her with this while performing the necessary requirements for this task. By twenty three years of age, her initial nursing training with the Sisters at this hospital was completed, and when regaining her talent for singing, once again she became known for performing at concerts in the district. For now, with all she was occupied with, her love of photography was pushed aside.

Still aware of her facial scar, she kept the same hairstyle, partially covering the side of her face, and found a certain makeup liquid which would cover the reddish mark. It did help her to regain her confidence when singing knowing now the audience would not notice the scar. This gave her a secure feeling of pleasure, because she received great ovations from the people gathered around. Afterwards they would come forward and talk with her, offering different opinions of the songs she choose for the concerts. Inside of herself she began to feel the happiness once more which had eluded her for a long time. Now she gave thanks to the Nun's and God for their help, praying often when alone. Perhaps, she genuinely thought, one had to go through these trials to prove she could finally be rewarded with a good life. That was all she wanted.

Though she missed her friend Robert while he was away, being by herself was teaching her it was something she could manage and live with. They did keep in touch with the few letters which reached her when it was at all possible. His whereabouts were kept secret, but he told her little parts of his life on board the ship somewhere in the Pacific Ocean.

War began, and by 1940 disruption occurred all around the world. America was stunned at the bombing of Pearl Harbor by Japanese planes on 7th December 1941, which accelerated the conflict. The utter devastation caused by this action destroyed large warships, killing some of the main forces of sailors and soldiers there, but it helped to further the ambition of the Japanese leaders. They increased their troop movements and began hostile attacks, and the evacuation of citizens in Singapore started. There was fear and disruption everywhere.

The Japanese captured Singapore, invading Malaysia. Borneo, Java, Sumatra in the Dutch East Indies, New Guinea, and the Philippine islands. Fifteen thousand citizens, Australians, English and Dutch citizens were eventually captured by Japanese troops as prisoners of war and placed in secure fenced camps on the island.

Allied troops were landed in the dark on the beaches, disappearing into the tropical jungles to infiltrate and destroy the Japanese bases where they could, but the Japanese still held out. Launching an offensive in and over the Owen Stanley ranges, using the old Kokoda trail, the aggressive hostile enemy invaded coastal towns and buildings in Papua New Guinea and the nearby island countries. Civilians were evacuated, but prisoners were taken. Japanese soldiers created fear and disruption everywhere in the jungle and on the beaches.

In America Patches had lost her good camera in the dreadful assault, so for a while she had given up photography until recently purchasing a new one, and once again she started taking great photographs. These were noticed, and having seen some of her previous outstanding photographs published nearly a year ago by Robert, she was contacted in a letter by a local newspaper to accept a position of photographer for them. This not only meant going to many different places and even overseas, but also she may have to give up singing which she loved.

This new position was a huge unusual step forward for Patches, but it meant wherever she went, her nursing training would be invaluable to those around. Thinking hard for a few days, she made a certain decision. Before agreeing to the paper's offer, she applied to the nearest Army headquarters asking to speak to particular Government Officials. The Officer in charge, Major Claude Desmond agreed to see her and ushered her into his office. A tall stern faced man with a narrow moustache, he asked her to be seated then inquired what it was she needed to know.

'Sir, my name is Patchula Tia Montarro, and I have been offered a specific photographic position with a certain newspaper in this city. As I have also finished my nursing training, I wondered if joining the army would be the best step for me to take under the circumstances. I could combine the two positions while going overseas to join the troops. Never having been in the forces and very inexperienced, I am not sure of the conditions or requirements needed for this job. I am keen Sir, and this would be a great experience for me.'

Rather astonished at her statement, a curious look passed over his face. He studied her, noticing she seemed quite young, also the unusual scar on her cheek before he commented, 'Well young woman, it is not often we have a request such as this. You realise by following this career, it would put your life in danger. Have you considered this at all?'

'Not till just recently Sir, but that is the least of my worries with everything that has happened to me in my previous life. I feel the real urge to do something different and useful, which these positions would offer me, and it would be helping my country as well. Perhaps you are not aware that I can also sing, and maybe that would be a beneficial diversion in the camps or wherever I am sent to.' She paused, 'Yes I have thought about the dangers, so what do you say Sir? It is quite a big change for me, and at my age, I do need this opportunity to improve my way of life.'

Stroking his chin for a few minutes, he quickly contacted someone and spoke over the phone for a while, his voice slightly muffled, then waited for a reply. In a minute or two his face changed, and with a serious glance at her he announced, 'If it were possible, would you be prepared to go overseas to the islands of New Guinea where the Japanese have taken control of certain areas in the south and the eastern coast? Those areas are where the troops are stationed and it is very hazardous area, with constant action seen by the army there. As a Nurse you can help with the wounded, and when able to, take your photographs, sending back reports on your progress.'

He paused, looking at her face and demeanour to see her reaction when giving her this news. Her face lit up and she smiled with pleasure, though her heart was beating a little faster than usual, as she considered his words. For once she did not think at all about the scar on her face, it was unimportant.

He continued, 'Of course you can take any of the necessary musical equipment you need, because if singing a few songs to the troops would be possible, then that would be an extra benefit. Soldiers do require some breaks in their routine. You realize this is a risky prospect and quite a lot of work for you Miss Montarro. That is, if you accept working in the danger of a war zone. Are you certain you are up to it? The women stationed anywhere over there are very few, and normally only nurses.' he commented, glancing at her face for a response.

Patchula was surprised, but flattered to be offered important work at army camps, but knew this is the chance she needed to break away and change her entire life. How pleased Robert would be too if he knew, and it would prove to him she had fully recovered from the previous trauma which had devastated her life. This new position would really alter her way of living, and allow her to experience different ideas on how others survived today. Within a few seconds she decided.

'Of course Sir, I would be so honoured to do this. I only hope your belief in me is well worth it. I sincerely appreciate this chance to work with the soldiers.'

She smiled and leaned across to shake his hand, her heart pounding while thinking to herself, _I'll be going overseas to serve this country. Now I will be doing something useful,_ and felt incredibly thrilled for the first time. Her confidence in herself, and her small abilities, was being restored. Perhaps having a scar would not look too bad over there, she decided with the many wounded soldiers around. Never having been away from America since she first arrived here as a very young girl, she was excited to be attempting this new adventure across the ocean in an entirely different country.

During the next four months she was shown some basic training at the Army depot nearby to adapt to this new position. The completely diverse type of work created such a change in her attitude and life, as she knew when going overseas she would meet many people and soldiers, wounded or otherwise. Thinking about this, she realised that there must be many good men alive, other than her friend Robert, whom she still cared for. He did so much for her when she needed it, by taking her away from the worst part of her life, a prisoner at the dreadful brothel.

When she was ready, uniforms were supplied from the Army headquarters for her to wear and she eagerly packed her belongings. Bringing with her some records and packing them up with the small wind-up gramophone she would need for background music, very soon she was informed when they were preparing to leave. It was to be in four days when the next available transport plane was heading over to the wars zone. They were to be set down first on the east coast of New Guinea, further south between Wewak and Lae where a large Unit of soldiers were operating in a specified area near the coastal jungle. Afterwards the plane was proceeding to the Milne Bay area, now being threatened by Japanese troops.

### CHAPTER 9

#### WAR BRINGS CHANGES

It would be her job to help in the medical unit during the day, and when and if, take some photographs. Perhaps later, at different times she'd entertain the troops. She hoped maybe some musicians would be found within the army group posted there for when entertainment was arranged. This idea pleased Patches very much. This was an exciting adventure for her, especially as the plane being used was an Army troop transport, a 'C477', and it was the first one she had ever travelled on, but a basic carrier used repeatedly for operations in the Pacific war zone. She dressed in some of the greenish army clothing supplied of shirts, trousers and skirts, and was driven to the airport to await the plane.

Climbing aboard, she was greeted by an officer at the door who saluted her. 'Good morning Miss,' he said. 'Welcome aboard and take a seat and strap up. We hope this trip will be a safe one for you.'

Patches nodded her head, keeping her hair slightly down to hide the scar, while shaking his hand. 'Thank-you sir. This is so exciting for me, my first trip overseas in a troop plane. I guess you do this quite a lot.'

He smiled and nodded, 'Sure thing, but this is my life and part of my duties.'

Making her way up the aisle she found a seat, setting down her personal gear nearby. After her light luggage had been stowed away, she looked around inside the plane, and her heart was pounding with anticipation as she tried to relax while leaning back in the seat. It was crowded with different supplies, gear, boxes and packs of everything needed for the troops. She could also see cartons marked as medical supplies. One of the four men in the plane sitting behind her leaned forward to touch her shoulder, noticing how excited she was about this trip.

She turned around exclaiming to him. 'Have you been on this plane before? This is my very first time.'

He grinned at her, 'Yes ma'am, I do this trip quite often. Where are you off to, and why over to New Guinea?'

Patches thought for a moment before replying. 'Guess you will think I am acting a bit like a new girl 'on the block'. Well I am really, as I'm leaving the plane somewhere along the East coast of New Guinea to help nurse the wounded, plus doing a few other jobs.'

The guy smiled and said, 'That's O.K. ma'am. We all go through this at first. By the way my name is Ben, what's your moniker?'

'I guess you mean my name,' she replied giving him a quick grin. 'You might not believe this but you can call me Patches, it is sort of a nickname,' putting out her hand to shake his.

He seemed surprised then gave her a curious look when noticing a faint scar on the side of her cheek. 'Yeh, right if you say so Ma'am!' he slowly remarked, shaking her hand.

After that pleasant remark, he sat back and said no more, but looking around he turned to the other four soldiers as they chatted together. Patches could hear some laughter between them and comments, but she knew they weren't talking about her. Some remarks she accidently heard were about her presence in the plane, and one mentioned that she was a nurse. Patches decided to just sit and watch out through the tiny window near her seat. The dark sapphire blue green ocean stretching out below looked immense and rough, with long rows of foam curled waves following the currents wherever they travelled. In the distance, she could see the outlines of what appeared to be some tiny ships.

They flew for hours across the Pacific Ocean, finally arriving late that evening at the small airstrip close to the coast on the south Eastern side of New Guinea. She noticed the weather was still hot when they stepped out of the plane to stand on the hard dry dirt. Lined up nearby were soldiers standing on guard from the main camp who'd been sent to wait for their arrival, but who were also watching for enemy snipers as the equipment was unloaded. She and the men who travelled over with her soon met the Sergeant who was directing the men, and he gave them orders to follow him. They walked back along the track to the main camp, and immediately she felt the humid heat rising from the jungle, as she walked along between the thick tropical trees and palms, with the six soldiers escorting her.

The Commanding officer of this company Captain Roger Stanshore, a presentable looking man with dark eyebrows, slight olive skin, and a short beard, came out to greet them as they arrived.

Patches introduced herself, 'How are you Sir? I'm Patchula Montarro, and very keen to be here and report for duty. I do hope I can keep out of the way, but be useful while doing my work,' and he smiled curiously at her words, greeting her with a handshake.

'Welcome Miss Montarro, it is good to have you working here. A woman nursing in the camp will brighten them up. Possibly your being able to entertain them as well will be appreciated, as many miss their families. Sometimes they become homesick or depressed here in the jungle when not deployed in action.'

She acknowledged his greeting with a hopeful smile. 'Well Sir, my singing is just a pastime, and I can only try to do my very best in all my work here, if able to.'

'This is a treat for us all Miss Montaro. Of course, you will also fulfil your nursing duties first, but in any spare time available you will be able to accomplish your photographic obligations. You, young woman have a lot to think about, so good luck. You are probably a bit tired, so bunk down and enjoy your rest tonight.'

She smiled when informing him, 'Excuse me Sir, before I go. You may address me as Nurse Patches, or just plain Patches,' a statement which obviously surprised him.

'Patches eh! I could say you are unusual, young lady. I will try to remember that name. Guess you have a good reason for it, and perhaps one day you will enlighten me.'

'If either of us ever find the time, I will explain that nickname Sir,' she said with a grin. 'And yes I am weary, but still thrilled about being here.'

This Officer was a tallish, angular man, wearing a dusty army hat, but seemed to be a sincere person, and quite cordial as he showed her the way to her quarters. Enough army clothes were provided for her to wear for protection and for camouflage, which were needed here in the jungle. She soon found in the following days that she did not like the steamy heat and the irritable buzzing of insects at night. _Gosh,_ she thought, _they could drive one to madness,_ hoping this would never happen of course.

It only took a day to find her way around the tents and soon she began her work, nursing the many wounded men bought into the camp from the jungle the next day. These injured men kept her busy attending to their wounds for most of the following weeks, and helping the surgeon when needed. There were always plenty of other soldiers working around the tents, moving equipment or disappearing into the jungle to carry out forays. Very few rested or stayed put for long.

Sometimes she used her camera with the little spare time she had, slipping outside photographing the jungle areas and the men. These pictures were taken around them as they worked, or when coming in from jungle manoeuvres. One man she noticed and photographed was older and quieter than many of the other soldiers, and she was drawn to the expression on his face. It showed sadness but contemplation, as he sat there, gazing out across the trees. Eventually she walked over and spoke to him offering her hand in a welcome.

'Hello there, do you mind if I stop and talk to you sir. I am rather a newcomer here and my name is Patches. What do I call you sir?' she asked him.

He smiled gently, 'Well, young woman, I am flattered being addressed as Sir, as I'm just an ordinary person young lady. So how do you do, Patches, and yes I answer to the name of John Willemsie. I believe you are here as a nurse, and arrived not so long ago. What can I do for you Miss?'

Patches began to talk and found this man somewhat different to the others here. He was a Dutchman, and only at the camp because of his being rescued with the other crew men from a small, badly damaged island boat sometime back.

This sparked her interest, so she asked him. 'Goodness, John, why were you on that ship? Were you fleeing from the Japanese?'

'Oh course my dear lady as hundreds did at the time. I had been working there at Batavia in Java, carrying out liaison and clerical work for the Dutch East Indies Government. Often I helped out at the local church. When notified of the impending arrival of the Japanese, it was arranged for me and a few other helpers to take our official documents and leave whatever way we could. Unfortunately, the small native boat we were in was badly damaged by heavy seas, and we were only saved 'in the nick of time', by a fishing ship which dropped me off near here on the beach. We were very lucky, because our papers allowed us to stay. It's not too bad, as I can help out in some way wherever I am needed.'

Patches was so interested at his story they became good friends. He seemed such a thoughtful, decent man, always willing to help. Now and then, with the few moments she had off work, she would sit outside on a bench watching some soldiers talk between themselves, and she'd photograph them or the wounded soldiers in the hospital tents. Often she'd stop and speak to them, while carrying out her duties.

Some soldiers queried her at first, 'Tell us Miss, why you take these photos. Are they for you?'

'Good heavens no, I've been asked to do this for a newspaper back home. I guess they want to know how the war is affecting all you soldiers.'

'You must really like taking pics'. I hope they're paying you danger money Miss, doing it over here in the war zone,' he said, laughed jokingly.

'Ah yes but remember guys, I am also a nurse and danger seems to come with the job,' she replied smiling.

Patches considered this was funny but had never thought of her nursing that way. Of course being in a war zone was dangerous, but regardless of that, she hoped these photos would be useful to send back to the paper and the Government offices. Though these showed the real conditions everyone endured here, these men would be used to this, realizing as she was a newcomer it would be new and strange to her.

The Doctor, a quiet Englishman was very dedicated to his work. His name was Dr Thomas Hickson and had grey hair, pale hazel eyes and a few deep wrinkles marking his forehead. Once she knew the 'ropes', she found he was a kind, thoughtful man. Later, he would let her know when she was not required to work with him in the tents, so it was possible to take her photographs. He himself had very little time off from his duties, as wounded men constantly arrived. He told her he was hoping for more medic's to be sent to help them as the fighting continued. On duty, she either had to be at his side when attending to badly wounded men when they arrived, or having to move quickly and find the extra medical supplies and medicines.

Often when operating or attending to the men's horrific injuries he'd turn around asking. 'Quickly Nurse, more bandages and antiseptic.' and she'd drop everything to dash out to the supply tent for them.

Sometimes men would die within days if they ran out of those medical supplies. Dr Hickson had to use whatever was handy to stop the bleeding, and she admired him for his necessary medical knowledge and the endurance he showed. The men waiting to be treated or operated on were lying on the low canvas stretchers, and some had rough splints on their legs or arms. Most were attempting to sleep, trying not to moan with pain. She felt so much empathy for them, knowing the staff had done all they could with what was there was on hand. Their supplies and equipment were very small, compared to the modern hospital she had worked at before in America.

Always having to be alert when attending to the injured brought in either from the jungle or the sea, she had to be prepared to take shelter when walking around the outskirts of the camp, in case any stray bullets flew in. She was told that Snipers could be present in any areas around the camp, or hidden in the trees. A few weeks later, she was informed another medical aide and a Senior nurse were being sent to help and they were due in a week, and Patches looked forward to this. A woman coming would be great, as having another female to talk to and work with was a change from the company of men only. She did not know whether the aide was a male or female.

One early morning after a hectic few hours of this work, she glanced around to make sure everything was finished, deciding to go outside to get a breather. Leaning against the tent, she closed her eyes wanting the heat to go away, and hoped the insects would fly somewhere else, except around her face. It was so humid, her clothes felt sticky and she felt sorry for the men inside. Feeling something move near her foot she glanced down to see a dark greenish coloured snake sliding across her shoe.

Scared but not making a move until it disappeared somewhere near the tent, she let out a yell, 'Could someone help me here please!'

Quickly looking around she spied a man nearby, who glanced at her when she called out. 'Hey, soldier there's a snake near the tent!' she said.

Two men on guard came running towards her. One asked, 'Where miss, which way did it go?' Patches pointed to the tent.

Slipping inside they looked everywhere as she held her breath, waiting. This was the first snake she had ever seen and she wasn't' sure whether it was dangerous or not. They came out shaking their heads telling her, 'It's O.K. Miss. He's gone. Don't worry as it probably was a harmless tree snake, but you still have to be careful,' then they returned to their guard positions.

_Well,_ she said to herself. _I am learning that snakes could appear, and might be dangerous or not depending on their colour. How does one know this in the dark?_ she wondered, shaking her head, confused at the thought.

The jungle there was always dense, steamy and sultry, with rarely any breezes, and having to push her hair back worried her, as this might show her scar. Not used to this weather, the perspiration would roll down her face and through her clothing as she worked. The itching condition 'Prickly heat' which caused a sore rash with tiny red lumps in the skin, was aggravating, particularly when rivulets of perspiration ran across her skin, giving her the feeling of a minor electrical shock as it did. It was such a relief to have a cool camp shower inside the small square of canvas walls, put there for that purpose. She longed for some talcum powder to sprinkle on herself, as within minutes after a shower she would be hot again.

Her tent area was in a separate section, but not far from the men's tents for her protection. The whole camp was shaded, mostly hidden by the thick jungle, with open places for drill practice and the frequent inspections. They always had to be aware of the danger there when standing out in the open, with Japanese fighter planes flying over at any time. The soldiers at this camp were pleased to have a female with them, especially being a nurse. They would laughingly chuck off at her during the day when not in combat, singing in robust voices the words from the old song, 'Nursie, nursie'. She remembered the words of the popular old song when hearing them sung.

'Nursie, Nursie come over here and hold my hand, Nursie, nursie, there's something I can't understand. In my heart, I have a dreadful pain. Oh, Oh, Oh it's' coming on again.' and leaving the song partly unfinished, the men would burst into laughter at her expressions.

Grinning at the men, she came back at them with, 'Righto you guys, who is next in line for a needle in their backsides?' and they'd quickly scatter, laughing at her. A bit of fun now and then felt good and she enjoyed it. Rarely did the men have any time to laugh and relax.

Soon the plane arrived with extra supplies and the new staff. She waited until they came into the camp then noticed a well built, big boned male medical aide who looked her up and down with a quick smile, and behind him the new senior nurse. She was a tall, auburn headed woman with a stocky figure, who looked about thirty-six years old. When she saw Patches waiting to greet her, she strode over towards her as a soldier would.

'Hullo there, you must be the young woman they all call Patches,' she said putting out her hand, 'I answer to Babs, short for Barbara. What an unusual name you have, especially for a nurse at a war camp,' and she grinned. 'Are there any other odd things I need to know Miss Montarro?'

Patches smiled shaking her hand, and helped her with the backpack. 'Well not yet, other than seeing snakes around. I am curious though about one thing. Tell me do the men sing songs to you when you work with them? This was something which puzzled me at first, as they only seem to do it when I'm around.'

'Hell no, not me! Besides, most of the men are too ill or incapacitated to sing songs. You mean the other soldiers sing songs. Are you talking about war songs or something else', Babs asked, giving her a curious grin.

'Yes the outside troops, and no, not really war songs. Do you remember that parody 'Nursie, Nursie,' that one. I've had that thrown at me a few times, in fun,' Patches told her laughing.

'Holy Moses, Ha Ha Ha. girl! Do they do that to you here?' she said laughing again. 'Yep, once that happened, a few years back. I came across that ditty in a hospital over in the Dutch East Indies. It used to be very popular in the wards back in England. Anyway, times a'wasting, let's get over to the barracks.' she stated.

Babs was bunked down in a room with Patches, and within two days, she had orientated herself with the Doctor and the wounded men. Her great sense of humour and competence was appreciated, as she eased herself in with everyone and her work. It was obvious how experienced she was in her handling of the wounded, and Patches really liked her and enjoyed her presence there. The medical aide fitted right in to his duties, even though he was a taciturn, man, rarely saying much. He approached her the next day in the medical tent introducing himself as Maurice Tanner from Britain.

Shaking her hand, he nodded to her asking, 'Well hullo Miss Montarro, do we stand on form, or is it O.K. to call you by your rather odd nickname which I heard the senior nurse remark on?'

'Of course Mr. Tanner, or Maurice; what do you prefer? I would feel much better answering to my nickname. It's been with me for a long time.'

She found his handshake firm, and his eyes did have a tendency to twinkle now and then, which was a relief. She thought having a man around who on the surface seemed to be upright but friendly, was easy to adjust to. Happy with this, she continued with her duties. Still in her early twenties, she felt she was changing and learning more.

She knew now the war certainly changed people in one way or the other. You either died or lived to tell the tale. Shaking her head at that awful thought, she made her way to the Hospital tent. It had taken only a few days to learn where everything that was needed to be used for medical purposes was stored, either on tables or in cupboards. This was a bit confusing for her at first but with the Doctor's help, she succeeded.

The older nurse was very experienced, and capable. Patches heard her described as 'a bossy old broad', but said nothing, just smiled to herself. With only one Doctor and one male aide working there with the two nurses, it was tiring work and there was rarely any time for speaking or even eating.

### CHAPTER 10

#### MEMORIES; ESCAPING

On the night the Officer decided she could sing, Patches made ready, and stepped onto to the small space they gave her in front of the troops all gathered together on chairs and benches. Having set up her old gramophone, she put the records on, and wound it up first then waited for the two soldiers whom they had found had some instruments with them. They were now sitting there ready to accompany her.

Patches spoke to the gathered troops first introducing her songs, and as the record began to play she gazed at the men then started singing. Even though she felt a bit shy at first, her voice filled the air with wonderful old and new well-known tunes, all of which were eagerly received by the men. After every song, clapping madly they shouted out,' Keep it up, keep it up, and 'more, more', stamping their feet in the dirt.

She felt relieved at their reception of her and continued singing the popular songs, and after more hearty applause and cheering, she bid them goodnight. As the men left the area, she collected her things to retire for the night, and Babs came over to her afterwards, astonishment evident in her eyes.

Standing there with her hands on her hips she exclaimed, 'Well, you are a bag of tricks young woman! A real 'dark horse' if I may say so. You never told me that you can sing, and you do this so well too. I am amazed! Good on you Patches. These men love you already. Are you sure there nothing else I should know about you?' she queried with a laugh on her face.

'Not really Babs. There's nothing special to know, but thank you for your kind words. I am just an ordinary person.' replied Patches, 'But I am glad the blokes liked my singing.'

She did not want to tell Babs about her other job of taking photos for the paper, as she never boasted about anything she did. When singing she hoped her voice carried to the men in the medical ward, as that would give them something else other than their pain to think about. Only on three nights during the next few months was this performance repeated, as they had to be careful not to create too much noise and draw attention to where the camp was positioned, in the event of an attack. Though when she was busy this danger slipped her mind, until the sharp noise of the shooting came closer. Concentrating of doing her work of keeping injured men attended to, she found it harder to think of anything else, when continually hearing their cries of pain.

The fighting became more consistent, the wounded increased, and in between nursing duties and having a break, Patches managed to take a few action shots around the men working or firing from way in the distance to avoid danger. There was so much to do when soldiers were in the jungle under attack. Those men very seriously injured in combat often arrived in planes from up the coast, or were carried in on stretchers. Always they were covered in muddy, bloody clothes with terrible wounds, and quite a lot of those men were terminal.

Some of the injuries were so bad those men had to be moved out to a larger hospital situated further up the mainland, by any vehicle or aircraft available. It was almost impossible to move them into boats, while watching for unexpected sniper attacks from enemy troops. The hustle and bustle around the camp area rarely let up, so Patches only had a few times to talk to her friend John the quiet man whom she met earlier. She knew he was hoping to return to his country one day in the future.

One evening when she had gone to bed, the sticky heat made her feel restless and irritable and she wanted to sleep but was unable to. Outside, she could hear the men calling out to each other, or the faint sounds of birds fluttering around in the trees in the thick rainforests. Every now and then, she would sit up, listen then lie down on the bed, restlessly turning over and over, as her thoughts would not rest. One thing she had rarely wished to think about or remember was the awful fear she experienced in that particular time when aged five years old, which became the end of everything she'd known of her childhood details of the experience which she never quite remembered or understood.

Finally after closing her eyes, first drifting into the light, then deeper sleep, her mind reached way back to the memories of her life as a carefree child on the island she had come from, never knowing its name. As her mind slipped into a profound sleep memories gradually filtered back as in a dream, then suddenly became so vivid. All those events in her earlier life now passed through her subconscious mind right up to the present moment. Shuddering suddenly in her sleep, rolling over in the bed, everything returned with a stark clarity unknown before, though she was still asleep.

In the dream like state she was in, her consciousness overflowed with the vastness of it all So much water everywhere, cold, threatening wild and dirty. Without warning the huge Tsumani waves rose up and quickly engulfed the surrounding grounds and right across the entire island. Her brother Ranua who'd been inside his hut, ran out when hearing the noise, and looked at the oncoming waves. She remembered hearing her mother calling out, and suddenly Ranua took hold of her from where she was playing, and with panic in his voice, he yelled to his mother inside the hut to hurry. Holding her tightly in his arms, he ran and ran, then scrambled up the slope making for the jungle behind on higher ground. Dismayed at his actions, she clung to him in fright until he reached a thick clump of strong tall bushy trees halfway up the slope of the hill. Then he pushed, roughly shoved her up into the middle of the thick leafy tree onto a heavy branch yelling 'Climb up higher Tula. Hurry!' and hang on tightly.' and she obeyed him.

He watched as she took hold, uncertain at first, then scrambled up the rough bark to the higher branch until he left her there, and raced down the slope to go back to their hut. She now vividly remembered sitting there terrified, her arms tightly held around the hard damp branches calling out to him. As the winds tore at her she cried, petrified at being alone, and the rising waters below covered the land everywhere. Again and again in a weaker voice she called out to her brother, 'Ranua, Ranua,' but the wind carried her words away and he was gone. She never saw him again! All she had was a cold, hard tree branch held tight in her arms. The sounds of the wild wind surrounded her as branches were ripped from the trees, flying past her head. Terror filled her heart.

Patches woke with a start, her skin tingling, her hands clammy because the pictures in the dream she'd woken from were so vivid, and she felt as though she was still there, seeing all that murky frothing water. Her heart was beating fast and she could hear the sound of her voice calling out desperately to her brother Ranua, as the memories replayed in her mind. Slowly as the shock of her dream died, the tenseness left her body, and she gradually relaxed still amazed that so much of her past has now returned. It was all too unbelievable yet those memories were so vivid but real.

Actually, her mouth felt dry and she really wanted a drink. Getting up from her camp bed, she quietly walked down the hut towards the door where a hessian water bag hung on the wall. Greedily she swallowed the warm water, grimacing a bit at the taste, but it eased her thirst as she looked around. She could hear Babs snoring loudly, so she crept back to her section of the hut. Sitting down on the bunk she lay back, hoping for whatever amount of sleep she might find, not wanting any more stark dreams to invade her rest. From this moment, she now knew almost everything of that terrible time as a child, things that was unknown to her previously before this night, and these she would never forget.

About five months later, quite early in the morning when the gunfire had eased a bit, she and a group of men including her friend John and the Sergeant decided to take a walk along the track towards the airstrip. Some men were armed, but a few were not and the early morning air was cooler. The pilot Brett who had previously landed his plane was making ready for his departure from this area. They were all chatting together and Patches still carried her small folding camera, having taken some pictures, as she always brought it with her. Often quite unexpectedly, the opportunity for good shots would suddenly appear.

Arriving at the area near the airstrip she and some of the men were resting on the bench near the far side of the airfield, joking together, having a laugh. She stood up to take a few more shots of the soldiers, then checking her film found it needed to be replaced. After putting the completed film in her pocket and the camera onto the table, they heard sudden loud gunfire and noise coming from the direction of main camp they had just left.

All of them jumped up, realizing the camp must be under a surprise attack from the jungle by enemy troops. Hearing the noise the Sergeant ordered the few men with rifles to follow him quickly back to the camp, which they did. The gunfire became louder and much closer, as though it was heading towards them. Everything occurred so fast, as within minutes, there were shouts and yells from the soldiers with the constant noises of exploding grenades.

An Australian man, one of the four unarmed soldiers standing there with Patches yelled out, 'Bloody Hell! Struth you blokes, we can't get back to camp for weapons. Reckon we'd better all clear out of sight somewhere else before they catch us here. We'd be dead ducks, there's not much we can do without weapons. You come too Patches.'

Her heart beat faster and quickly picking up her camera, she followed the men who raced off heading towards the nearby plane, nearly ready to take off. One of the soldiers arrived there first, calling out urgently to the pilot Brett sitting in front of the controls.

As soon as Brett had heard the gunfire and saw them running, all trying to scramble up inside the plane, he shouted, 'Hurry, you buggers and get in and buckle up. I'm taking off for a while. I'll circle a distance away, until it is safer to land.'

They piled in and the engine quickly roared into life, gathering speed rising into the sky, just as heavy gunshots were aimed at them by Japanese troops arriving there from the jungle. Strapped in, Patches sat back, fright filling her mind, the nerves in her body jumping. This was the first time she had been directly in the line of fire. The whole attack had happened so quickly.

Turning to the man behind she nervously asked, 'Do you think we'll be OK, flying around up here?'

The soldier glanced out of the window. 'Well, Miss, we can only hope. I'd rather be down there giving them a hand to shoot those blasted' yellow mongrels!' he said angrily.

The plane reached the height required as the pilot levelled off continuing to fly further across the jungle below, and they began to feel relieved. When well into this manoeuvre, unexpectedly the engine began to falter. Though Brett kept on flying, he soon realized the petrol tank had been hit as the plane started to lose height, going down towards the tree tops.

He called back to them, 'We've been hit, and I'm going to try landing this old girl near the river, but don't worry. Be best for you all to grab hold of some safety gear, or anything, in case it's needed.'

With the engine stuttering, the plane began to descend above the trees, until Brett saw a landing spot visible ahead. It was just past a narrow muddy stream over which they had flown, and with the engine almost dead, he managed to bring the swaying plane onto the uneven ground into a narrow clearing. They heard the engine splutter, then stop. Telling them to stay there he tried to contact headquarters on the radio asking for help, inform them of the incident and give them the co-ordinates of their landing. To his dismay, he couldn't make contact because the radio was now dead.

A bit unnerved by the earlier shooting and this sudden landing, Patches asked one of the more experienced men, 'Do you have any idea of where we are Sir? Gosh, this is the first time I have come down in a plane like this. Bit nerve wracking! The pilot is good though, thank heaven.'

'I guess we should be closer to the next camp up the coast towards Wewak Miss Montarro,' he replied.' But I can't be too sure without a compass or map. The pilot Brett should have an idea. He travels all over this country all the time.'

It was too hard to see and guess the distance they had flown before landing, though to her inexperienced mind it did not seem very far. For a while they sat there quietly waiting in the plane hoping for help to arrive, until Brett turned around and spoke, 'Sorry you blokes. I've not been able to make any contact. Radio's gone so we're on our own.'

This was unexpected bad news, and the older soldier Patches had spoken to made a suggestion to the pilot. 'Brett, my name's Wally, and I feel we're sitting ducks here in the plane. If those yellow beggars find us now, we'd have no chance at all! What about we all move out and take refuge in the trees around here? Without rifles we'd be useless, even though I always carry a blade,' and he pulled out of his pocket a long dark handled knife with a sharp blade, typical of those used for emergencies, he said, 'This is my comby' knife, and it's all I have.'

The other four agreed, so Wally also picked up a work machete' left lying on the floor. They quickly clambered out of the plane and Patches remembered to grab her camera as well. Crouching down, they followed Wally back into the nearby jungle for about twenty or more metres, carefully creeping along on grassy sections. All of them tried not to leave any foot tracks in the moist ground as these might be seen by any passing Japanese soldiers. Spreading out they hid under the thick foliage where the ground was damp, but not very hard, but where the sound of mosquitoes buzzed through the air. The silence felt uneasy to Patches, not knowing what would happen next. Still unnerved, she went over the last twenty minutes in her mind, from where they had all been sitting under the trees talking, and up to now. It was amazing how one's life can be changed, just in an instant she thought.

As a nurse, never did she anticipate anything like this could happen to her. Looking around at the men all sitting or squatting on the damp ground, she wondered, as soldiers did they expect this sort of situation to occur? Two of the men known as Aussie and Jim, typical long lanky Australians, leaned over telling Wally they'd climb up some taller trees to keep a look-out, but whistle if it became dangerous. This they did, each man climbing carefully up the narrow trunks of nearby trees, roughly settling on sturdy branches. The pilot Brett, John, Wally and Patches stayed hiding underneath the low, thick leafy tropical trees. While leaning against the tree trunk Patches waved her hands to brush away insects, the long leaves almost touching her face, and she looked up seeing how thick the foliage is around them while shielding them from the early heat of the day.

Wally whispered, 'Try your best not to move Miss,' though she found this hard to do, with the dozens of tiny midges flying around her face and arms trying to bite her.

They just sat back cautiously listening for sounds. After ten or more minutes they heard a quiet whistle. Brett realised it was one of the men up the tree and he alerted those near him, so they pushed further back into the tropical jungle. Bending under thick low bushes as the leaves brushed against their bodies, they lay with heads pressed close to the damp ground, matted with roots and heaped up dead leaves. Patches was so uncomfortable with her face side on to the dirt, and she could barely breathe. The tree roots felt rough against the sides of her neck, but she was stayed still not game to move or speak.

They could hear distant shouts and gunfire coming from enemy soldiers who must have appeared out of the jungle when hearing the plane come down and then finding it in the clearing. From the sounds of gunfire, it seemed the Japanese soldiers were shooting at the plane, and Patches thought if not hearing gunfire returned, the soldiers would investigate inside the plane. There were more loud shouts heard in Japanese, and as the men and Patches huddled down, they heard a loud explosion, and clouds of smoke and debris flew out above the tree tops.

Brett hissed, 'Shsh! Everyone stay down. The slimy beggars must have blown up my bloody plane. Yellow bastards!' he exclaimed.

Startled by the explosion, Patches crouched with her hands over her ears. Her body stiffened with fear, and she trembled when hearing soldiers coming closer in their direction. Holding her breath she listened as the acrid smell of petrol filled the air from the burnt plane, and the distant voices and noisy sounds of boots on the ground increased. Tensed up shivering, her palms sweaty and hot she wondered, _My god what if they find us?_

As soon as Wally heard these sounds he hastily motioned them to quietly move further back into the jungle behind, crawling through the thick underbrush and low branches, keeping their heads down. Patches was tensed but fearful her heart pounding, and she kept on moving quietly behind them with vines pulling at her arms, and feet tripping on projecting roots. The other two men who'd slithered down the trees were up front, with Aussie quietly using his machete' to clear a way through the tangled low vines and trees ahead, hoping this wouldn't be heard by the enemy soldiers searching for them.

Everyone was tense, listening to the sounds around them, but not the few birds in the trees, and Patches could hear her own heart beating wildly in her chest. Though she was afraid, her senses were alert, her mind concentrating on where they were heading hoping they would get away. The ground underneath was quite rough with treacherous uneven sections as they stumbled along, and this made their progress more awkward to negotiate. The two men in the lead came to a sunken area, nearly tripping into some deep hollows underneath fallen trees, their tangled roots splayed out above them. They paused as Wally and Brett looked at these, and motioned them all to hide under the hollowed roots, except for Jim and Aussie, who were on guard.

Aussie whispered, 'We'll whistle once for danger and twice for all clear', and the two men again pulled themselves up nearby tree trunks but not far away, in case anyone following them came closer.

In front of them the other four could only see some dirt hollows full of broken vines, masses of smaller thin stalks, branches and rotting leaves all lying there on the ground, so instantly they knew these had to be used for their cover. Each man and Patches hurriedly scooped aside armfuls of this matted forest mulch and crawled into the spaces underneath. Hugging the damp earth, pulling smaller vines and heavy tropical leaves completely on top, Patches breathed a sigh of relief, taking in deep breaths of the humid cloying air. Everything they touched was damp and rotting, and the smell of this filled their nostrils. Her head was close to the ground, with matted damp leaves and rough roots pushed against her face. She felt clammy, lying there under the wet pile of foliage in the hollow, not far from the others three men, Brett, Wally and John.

They were all silent, listening for any pursuit coming this way from Japanese soldiers who were probably searching for them, aware one or more people had been in the plane. Patches suddenly thought. Oh Lord, would there be snakes or crawling insects in this wet mess of foliage, and within minutes, her thought was answered. She felt ants running across her hands and neck, then something moved across her arms. At first thinking it was a snake, she decided it seemed smaller like a small lizard. Gently brushing it away, she choked on the exclamation nearly leaving her mouth, and breathed heavily. Feeling a hard lump jammed under her body near her hip, she wanted to wriggle away from it, but was scared of doing the wrong thing, so she stayed still. The air was humid and heavy, making it hard to breathe and her nerves were jittery, tensed with trepidation.

Wally was about to sit up when he paused, hearing a warning whistle from above. Very soon the sounds of muffled footsteps were heard once more coming through the jungle and these were minutes of awful anxiety for Patches. The approaching feet seemed to come nearer, as were the sounds of broken voices, and they heard bushes being prodded around with rifle butts while the Japanese soldiers searched. The next ten minutes seemed interminable, waiting underneath their cover, and Patches expected any minute to be found. She could hear mixed noises and strange words being uttered, with branches knocked aside and thrashed around by the soldiers who seemed to be searching the jungle nearby.

They poked down around in the scrub with their rifle bayonets, their boots noisily sounding on the rough ground. Then Patches felt a sharp sting on her neck, and she gritted her teeth in pain when feeling the pain of the bite, but it caused the tiny reflex action of her hand going to her neck. This movement in the leaves though slight, was actually noticed. Close to where she was hiding, she heard heavy boots stop, and she lay in fear as a voice exclaimed loudly in a strange language. The soldier was right there beside her, and seconds later she felt something hard pushed up and down repeatedly as his rifle prodded into her back through the matted foliage. The barrel of the rifle brushed hard against the side of her shoulders, as the sharp edge of the bayonet just missed her face, and she was instantly terrified.

Her heart almost stopped beating as she steeled herself not making a sound; when heavy hands reached down to push aside the flattened heap of matted leaves and roots from her body. She felt fingers fumbling, grabbing at her hair pulling it fiercely, and his voice excitedly muttering some strange words, then he attempted to drag her out from her hideaway.

The thick clump of branches and foliage were shoved aside to reveal part of her body, and when feeling the pain of her hair being pulled she kicked and struggled to get away, realizing it was too late. For a minute, she saw his yellow skinned face and his narrow eyes peering at her, but a startled look appeared in his eyes when his expression changed. He seemed completely stunned as his head was pulled sharply back, his hands released the grip on her hair. Terrified, she glimpsed a knife blade slashing across his throat and his body abruptly jerked falling to the ground beside her. Trembling and gasping with shock, she sat up to see the blood stained comby' knife in Wally's hands, as her scared eyes met his. He leaned down beside the Japanese soldier's body with his finger to his lips, motioning her to be quiet and cover herself up again. Then quickly pulling the dead man into the bushes with him, he disappeared.

Staying there shuddering all over, Patches was horrified at what had just happened in front of her. For some seconds, shocked at what she had witnessed, she felt faint her nerves on edge. Gathering her wits about her, Patches pulled the foliage across over her body with trembling fingers, but she could not stop shaking! It took a while before she settled down and waited, with the image of the dead soldier's shocked face still in her mind.

Aware of the irritating bite on her neck, she pressed it with her fingers to ease the sting, then in a short while it seemed the other soldiers had tramped away, not noticing that one of their men was missing. Nobody seemed to move or make a sound, and they all lay there for almost half an hour longer, some wriggling around while brushing off insects.

Patches could hear some muffled swearing, but nothing more and she suddenly felt so weary, wondering how the other men were. Am I a coward, she asked herself, to be so scared? Could I kill a man that way, if I had to? Shortly there were no other noises anywhere, only distant birds calling out to each other. Finally realising the soldiers had tracked away in another direction, the relief inside of her was overpowering.

Not far from where Patches was hiding Brett whispered out loudly 'We'd better wait until those yellow 'mongrels' are gone and we get the 'all clear' whistle.'

Another ten minutes of wet soil, perspiration and leaves, then they heard the signal twice. Waiting until the men came down from the trees Brett called the others and Patches to come out from under their cover. With moist dirt over their faces and clothes feeling sticky and damp, they all stood up, but listened carefully for any other sounds. Slowly they brushed away the damp and leaf mess from their clothes, as in the distance they heard the sounds of gunfire, but it sounded a long way off.

'Thank Heavens', exclaimed Patches as she wiped the dirt from the side of her face, feeling her scar. 'I thought I was done for guys when that bayonet brushed past my face. Heavens, did anyone realize Wally saved my life! Golly, I have never seen a man killed before now, and I know I could never do that.' There was no answer from the others, they were just pleased their immediate danger was over.

Turning around to thank Wally, she gave him a quick peck on his cheek, as a quick grin flashed across his grimy weather beaten face. 'God', she said.' I hope never to go through that experience again.'

'It's all in a day's work, Patches,' he remarked with a wry smile as the other three just touched his shoulder after hearing what he had done.

Wally and Brett decided to spread out amongst the thick tropical bushes in the immediate area to check for soldiers, and while waiting Patches suddenly thought of her camera. After a quick search she found it was still in the large baggy pocket of the uniform trousers she was wearing. 'Gosh, no wonder I could feel something hard underneath me, it was my darned camera. But it didn't hurt as much as that rotten insect bite did!' she muttered gently rubbed it, wondering what sort of insect it had been.

Quickly checking to see if her first film was still in the smaller pocket of her army shirt, she placed that inside a deeper pocket for safety. _I could take some photos now,_ she thought, but glancing around, she could see there was not enough light showing through the trees for that. Brett and Wally returned, saying it seemed safe now to continue on, and look for the closest beach or any sign of villages somewhere. There was always the chance of running into another Japanese patrol again, so they had to be extremely careful. This group comprised of Brett the pilot, Wally and Aussie the Australians she had met earlier, John Willemsie and Jim, but none of these men she really knew, only John.

Now they wanted to hurry along and cover a good distance before evening. Pushing and struggling through the thick jungle trees, tripping over roots and bushes, their bodies often caught in the long tangled rope-like aerial roots and the straggly thin vines hanging down from some trees, but they kept on. Barely stopping they moved like this for nearly two hours, covering a good distance in the jungle heat, then needing a break, all sat on the damp ground to rest. Their clothing was wet with perspiration sticking to their bodies, but most of the men did not seem tired. Patches sat on the dirt breathing heavily, her lungs almost bursting, her legs feeling the strain after not having done any strenuous exercise in the last few months. She glanced around at the others sitting or lying down spread out on the ground, knowing that John and she would be much weaker.

Catching her breath, she turned around to them. 'Are you all O.K.?' she asked.

There were no instant answers, but she could hear them breathing and not moving. 'Does anyone know the way to the nearest part of the coast where the Army camp may be?'

The helicopter pilot called Brett replied, his voice slightly hoarse, 'Hell Patches, I think it's a fair distance yet, maybe east of where we are now. Bit hard to tell. We'll have to check the compass when there's better light to see.'

Wally sitting nearby added, 'Naah! I reckon the camp's nearer to the North than East,' and Aussie agreed. 'Yep, that's about right. I'd say it's more up the coast towards Wewak.'

When they felt rested and had drunk sparingly from the small amount of water one man carried with him, they continued on slowly, threading their way through the treacherous damp muddy grounds and thick tangled rainforests. Now and then, they would stop and listen to hear if soldiers were near, but it was hard going and Patches knew she was feeling weary. In the distance, they heard rifle shots, but they faded after a while. The two men, Wally and Aussie who disagreed as to where the camp was, had made a decision between themselves.

Wally told Brett, 'Me and Aussie are going to try and look more to the North East for a camp or something. Is that O.K. mate? We'll only do this if you think you'll all be alright.'

'Sure, that's O.K. We should be out of danger for now. Just be careful and watch out for those Japs.'

Luckily, Brett and John had brought their own compasses, which they always carried in their pockets. One was handed to the two men to help them on their way north, even though at the moment it was hard to read anything in the speckled light of the jungle, so the two men left the group waving goodbye. All that afternoon and evening the others trudged, slowed down by the humidity, but moving as fast as they could through the dense tropical trees. They only stopped to rest for few minutes to try sucking water off the big wet leaves of the trees. Slowly moving along for another hour, they had to stop because John who was older and not a soldier, found the track very hard on his legs. He was always catching his feet in the roots of the trees, so Patches would slow down to give him a hand.

Twice they heard voices from afar, which sounded like a Japanese patrol, and gunfire. All of them crouched down together on the ground, well hidden behind large clumps of tropical trees, waiting until the faint sounds of high-pitched voices had faded away. This made them more cautious, and they slowed down moving towards the east, where they hoped to find the camp somewhere along the coast.

Patches paused once, turning around to check on how John was coping. 'Jim,' she said, 'Could you go back to help John for a while. He seems a little tired and I am not strong enough to do that.'

Jim went back bringing John closer to the others, and she thanked him. When standing there, the humidity began to settle on them like a wet blanket, and the jungle sounded strangely still. There would be less resting times until they had travelled further before the sun set, pushing through the heavy tropical jungle. John and Patches were feeling the strain, with bodies aching. It was nearly night and getting hard to see.

'Oh God this heat is bloody awful, and it is hard to know what is ahead.' she muttered to herself.

John whispered, his throat dry. 'I'll be glad to find a creek or the ocean. Am sorry fellers I guess I smell like week-old scraps Not much I can do about that.'

'Hang on mate, you will be alright, just let's know when you have had enough and we'll stop.' said Brett turning towards him.

The moist heat was getting to the others as well. Their clothing clung to their bodies, as sweat mingled with the dirt, dribbling down faces, arms and legs. Suddenly they stumbled into a small running creek, which was a godsend. They now had the incredible, refreshing feeling of collapsing into the cool, clear water, stretching out in their dirty clothing. It was a miracle! Patches was tempted to roll over in the fresh water, but the creek bottom was stony and too narrow.

Patches sucked up some fresh water into her mouth, then whispered. 'Thank heavens, what a blessing. John you got your wish.' He gave her a tired grin but said nothing, he was just too beat.

The other men lay there, all stretched out in a ragged line. Just being in that wonderful clean water for a short rest was so good and they felt much better.

However, in a while, after getting to their feet and summing up their position, they realized this might be their last fresh water until they reached the coast.

### CHAPTER 11

#### A MISSIONARY HELPS

Having had nothing to eat, some men grumbled quietly, their bellies rumbling from hunger but not Patches. The heat had killed her appetite, but all were extremely tired, and they stayed there near the little creek for the night. Finding a low tree trunk to lean against, the men just shut their eyes, with most feeling exhausted.

Jim muttered out loud, 'Lord what I wouldn't give for a cold jug of beer mates, what do you' blokes reckon?'

The other two just laughed and Brett replied, 'Yeh, in your dreams Jim.'

The air was full of mosquitoes buzzing around their faces and arms biting them, and the humid heat was irritating. There was no breeze at all to relieve the heat. Where they are now, they found it much harder to sleep, restless and muttering to themselves wherever they sat or lay down. Patches kept on thinking _Oh what I would give for some nice clean sheets,_ before she drifted into a restless sleep.

Next morning, before they left all of them took in deep swallows of this creek water to carry them through more hours of pushing through this jungle. Moving along more slowly now, Patches found her body tiring as the time passed; her hair was matted, wet and dirty, but she didn't care. They had to keep on walking, always ready to hide in the thick bushes if hearing any loud noise. John was very weary as his legs were losing their strength, so both he and Patches asked the others to stop for longer rest periods. She thought that even the two Australians, Wally and Aussie who'd left them, might be feeling the strain after their long tough trek further North, and these four wondered if the other two managed to doge the Japanese troops.

The sun blazed above as for hours they walked on until a rest break was called for. Patches just lay back on the damp ground, stretching out her leg muscles and back, feeling so scruffy and dirty, then closed her eyes for a few seconds. Her bones ached, her feet were raw and blistered where her boots had rubbed them, and it would have been so easy just to stay there if she could.

While they were resting, Brett remarked, 'I reckon we should getting closer to the coast. We've travelled a fair distance east, so it can't be too far.'

They continued on until later that afternoon when Brett suddenly paused, looked cautiously ahead then muttered, 'It's unbelievable guys. I think I can see some native huts or a village ahead through the trees.'

They all stopped, and John breathed heavily gasping out aloud. 'Thank you God for small mercies!' as he knew he could not have gone on much further. He noticed that Patches looked almost as tired as he was, though she was a lot younger than him.

Stumbling ahead behind Brett, quietly going around the edge of the thick trees and low scrub, and peering through the trees they spied what seemed to be a small cluster of huts or a village ahead, not far from the ocean. With Jim scouting the area, they stopped near some tree trunks to wait and check if any Japanese soldiers were anywhere around. Brett slowly walked into the village, but the others all stayed back, hidden behind the thick forest, waiting to see whether Brett had found anyone. There was a deep silence, as most of them did not have the incentive or energy to talk while they waited. Patches and the other men stood there until guessing there was no danger, but not sure whether the native villagers would receive them peacefully or not.

In a few minutes, Brett returned to them waving his hands, with a big smile on his grubby face. 'Great news, guys! There's a Missionary here, and he is agreeable to helping us.'

Looking at him with sighs of gratitude, they walked along, wearily dragging their bodies into the village where they were greeted by the Missionary, a tall well-built man in a black cassock. This man looked at the ragged band of strangers with a smile, though he was completely surprised at the appearance of this small group of dirty bedraggled soldiers coming out of the tropical rain forest, so late in the evening.

With a friendly smile he greeted them, 'Welcome my friends, and God's blessing on all of you. How far have you come as you look very tired?' he asked. 'Did you see any enemy soldiers close by, as I must warn you. If they suspect this village is sheltering anyone, they will punish the village people. We always have to be on our guard and keep watching!'

Shaking his head Brett slowly replied, 'No Father. Luckily, we got away from Japanese troops when our plane was hit by bullets. After a few problems in the rain forest, we had to make our way through that jungle. Sure took us a fair bit of time, nearly two days, and I guess we are not certain about anything yet Father. Just thanking God and hoping we weren't followed here.' Brett stood there just waiting as they all listened to hear what would be said.

The Missionary, a younger man with thick dark hair and light olive skin, spoke again in a friendly deep voice with an accent, 'You can all rest here as you need it. My name is Father Nickolas Morakai, and I have been in this village for three years working with, and helping these people. Every now and then the Japanese come and check all the villages along the coast for escaped prisoners, so we have to be extremely careful. However you are all very welcome in our village and whatever we can offer you.'

He stood there his eyes roving over the group. They each walked over to shake his hands, thanking him, and Brett said, 'We'll do our best to keep out of sight Father. We're grateful for any assistance you can give us as we've travelled for many hours and could do with a good rest, and hopefully, some food to eat.' he said. 'If that is at all possible please?'

As the Missionary stood there, he suddenly noticed Patches and his expression changed. He was completely astonished to see a young woman in amongst these escaped soldiers, also dressed in soiled, bedraggled and untidy army clothing, looking as exhausted as they were.

'Good heavens, you have a woman with you! Can this be true? Are you running with this exhausted group of soldiers, Miss? Dare I ask why? Were you with them in the plane as well?'

'Yes I was, but please Father, I will fully answer your question only after I have cleaned up, then I will talk to you.' she answered him, managing a weak smile.' As you can see, we all need a wash, a rest and food. We're completely worn out after two days of pushing through the horrid thick scrub, and no doubt our bodies may smell the same!'

'Of course I was not thinking,' he agreed with an apologetic smile, 'We'll leave your story until later, but remember, if any soldiers appear you will have to hide very quickly.'

This village was right on the edge of the ocean, and when seeing the water, Patches could not help herself. Quickly taking her film and camera from her pockets, and placing them down on the ground, she astonished them by pulling off her worn dirty shoes and ran down to the beach. Then she jumped into the sea, dirty clothes and all! The men were all vastly amused by her actions, and followed her example and jumped in, splashing around in the water, enjoying the pleasure of just soaking in the coolness of the fresh ocean water. This was so wonderful after all those hot and sticky days in the jungle. For them to feel free and clean, and be with people who were not enemy soldiers ready to kill them.

The Missionary just stood there laughing at them, 'Well, this is the first time I have witnessed anything like that,' he said. 'I admit the ocean can be appreciated when needed.'

After they all left the ocean cleaner, drenched but happy, and before they had cleaned up, Patches mentioned to the Missionary how soiled her clothing was, asking him, 'Is it possible you can offer anything else for me to wear now?'

For a minute he thought, then said, 'I will speak to my native cook, as perhaps she can help you. The old clothing can be thrown in the wash.'

He left for a few minutes but returned holding a worn light cotton wrap-style of dress, handing this to Patches. 'Thank you Father, and please thank your cook. Tell her it is wonderful to have a clean dress to wear', she gratefully replied, a mischievous smile on her face.

To their surprise she suddenly twirled around with delight, and asked to be shown to the room where she could have a shower. Once there in the native hut it was wonderful. Feeling the cool soapy water running down her body, it was so good to be really clean, and dressed in fresh clothing, even though the faded floral wrap was a bit big. That did not matter to her, she was so happy.

When the others had showered and freshened up their own appearances, Father Morakai asked them to come to his small home for a light dinner before they went to bed that night. Sitting at the wooden table, a tasty native dish was served to them and eaten with pleasure, and they all tried out a drink of coconut milk offered to them. This was different with a pleasant taste but greatly enjoyed.

Giving them all a mischievous grin the Minister said, 'This will relax you and enable you all to have a good night's rest. You know it's' known to be a great substitute for an alcoholic brew.'

Then he showed them two native huts in which there were beds they could sleep in. One was smaller, a native woman's hut, which Patches choose, and the three men were to use the other larger one near the Missionary's home. It did not take long before all of them dropped into deep sleep. Patches was so exhausted, she closed her eyes, but as she lay down, the face of the Missionary remained in her mind.

There was something special about him that caught her attention, she thought, and he did have a warm friendly nature. Because his skin was a light olive, she decided he must be an islander. Many of the Australian men in the camp had tanned skin, but their colour was quite different to his. The next day they met again in his home to have a talk, and for over an hour, the four of them spoke about their experiences. Brett explained how they had escaped from the plane and found their way to this village. The Missionary listened, but warned them to keep out of sight for the time being, depending on how long they stayed there.

Again, they thanked him for the shelter he had offered until the danger was past. Every now and then, Patches felt him glancing at her, and when she looked up, he was, but with a twinkle in his eyes. For a minute she actually felt shy at his expression, deciding to acknowledge his glance with a quick smile. He was a nice person for a Minister, of the very few she had met before. He reminded her of the first Missionaries she had known as a child in Darwin.

The villagers they saw later were shy, keeping to themselves for the first few days, and Patches noticed they called the Missionary Father Nick. Very soon many of the village people became friendly and would try to speak, but it was hard for them to understand the soldiers language. Over the next two weeks, the four of them were supplied with food and water, which they shared between themselves. Twice an alarm was sounded when Japanese soldiers were heard coming closer, so the four quickly ran down to the beach and hid on the edge of the water behind the villager's canoes until the soldiers had gone. It was unsettling for them, as no one wanted to be caught, and Patches was always scared when they appeared. When crouched behind the canoes she would close her eyes and pray.

During the time they were there, Patches talked a lot to the Missionary, first telling him her part in the story and explaining her name.

'You know, once as little girl I was on an island like this, and rescued from floods. Being an orphan I was taken to Australia by a Minister of the church and his wife who called me Patches because of my torn clothing.'

The Minister chuckled at her description of her name, 'Well, that is a quirky name to have, young lady.'

Smiling at his comment she continued, 'Later on, I was adopted by a lovely couple who renamed me Patchula, and unfortunately when things changed, I had to go to America to live. Sadly, I do not remember my real parents, only that my life in America afterwards was not happy or pleasant. When this war began, it changed everything for me. I began a new different way of life in the army'

Father Nickolas just listened, his eyes serious while attentive to her words, but still amazed at her being there with those men. He somehow felt a connection with this sincere lovely woman and her history. She showed him an honesty which was so different, and of course it was also because women of other races rarely came to his village. She did not mention the terrible times in her life, and found this interesting man to be very understanding and compassionate, even realizing he was so likeable. Patches always had the problem of being unaware about her origins. Never having known which island out there in the Pacific she had come from. This Minister also looked into her eyes wondering where she was born, as her skin was similar to his, and he was aware he felt a kinship with her, and wanted to explain why.

'Do you know I also have a story about my beginnings which perhaps you might be interested in, if we ever get the right opportunity,' he told her, a questioning look on his face.

'Well Father, that would be lovely if we could share our histories, but obviously just now does not seem to be the right time Nickolas, if I may be allowed to call you that,' Patches asked, as she glanced sideways at him, a cheeky twinkle showing in her eyes.

'Of course you may. I would prefer to drop the official name, as mine is more down to earth and it is the one by which have always been known. These circumstances regrettably are not the best right now for much else,' the Minister replied, giving her a wry smile.

She thought how nice it was of him to offer that information to her, wishing they could talk much longer, and suddenly she felt a warm bond between them, which was strange. It was unusual for her to feel that way about any man, particularly a Minister. He was kind and gentle with a good sense of humour, and so easy to talk to and besides that, his quiet nature appealed to her. All the men would sit down and chat with him, and during that time she was able to wash her army clothing to be able to wear them again when needed.

While there and walking through the village, Patches noticed that some of the village children had horrible large growths on their faces making them look deformed, and the villagers shunned any of these poor little children. One young woman even had twins who were joined along their backs, and as Nickolas told her, the villagers would have disposed of the children as was their natural custom. Now they didn't because of him interceding in the matter. She was so saddened to see these children like that.

'My goodness, that is terrible. Is there nothing which can be done to help these poor people and their children?'

'No!' he replied.' There are no medical facilities here, or on the nearby islands which could improve their lives.' Nickolas explained. 'The parents bear the shame and pain of this by themselves. They are not able to afford any treatment, even if it was available.' he said, and she could hear the empathy in his voice.

Patches realised how hard this must be for them. 'Why are these children born that way? Is it hereditary or caused by a disease or sickness?'

'Unfortunately, that I do not know,' he replied, wondering why no one else had ever asked him that, as this young woman seemed sincerely concerned. The next day, Brett the pilot approached the Missionary to speak to him of their plans. They had thought about the next step for them which needed to be taken.

'Father, Jim and I have decided to go north to search for the Allied camp somewhere further up the coast. We know it is there, so we will leave now. John said he wants to stay here and rest longer before he leaves. Not being a soldier like us, he felt the rigors of the trip more than we did.'

'Of course, it is a sensible idea, and I understand that as soldiers you would want to be back with your comrades,' the Minister agreed.

Given food and water, the two men left early the next morning to make their way north keeping close to the coast, and Patches and John waved them goodbye. Every now and then planes would fly low overhead and the sound of gunfire would be faintly heard, but a long way off. Now knowing what was happening with the war, Patches and John were still worried that Japanese scouting groups might see some of the men, though aware of how careful soldiers are. Later through talking to Father Nicholas, she realized his work here was worthwhile, and gave him a lot of satisfaction.

'You wouldn't know Nickolas, that before the war I nearly became a nun, but changed my mind, and decided to be a nurse instead,' she told him.

He was interested, wondering why an attractive young woman like her would want to join a convent, but guessed she was not telling him everything for her own reasons. A few weeks later when feeling a lot healthier, she and John decided to move on whatever way they could. Their strength had recovered, and they needed to re-join the Army headquarters and notify everyone they were still alive as they had been gone for a while now.

Father Nickolas made a suggestion. 'Why not try going out in a good canoe of which there are some here. I can ask a local guide to assist you, and he can direct you to where the shipping lanes are and hopefully you could make contact with a ship. After that he will return the canoe back here to the village. Following the coast could be more dangerous for you, going by yourselves.'

John and Patches agreed with him. 'That's a great idea and worth a try, thanks for the suggestion Father.' John said, knowing his friend Patches felt the same way. Patches was keen to move on, whatever way they could.

They decided to try paddling the canoe with the help of the guide Father Nickolas offered, realizing it could be a few days or more before they found the right ship. A strong man, Benai from the village was asked to help them after hearing their story. They were shown a wide sturdy canoe and the native Benai who was to go along with them, then return with the canoe afterwards. Nickolas provided them with enough basic food and water to last a few days. Now dressed in her previous khaki army shirt and trousers she felt much better, and ready for whatever the future would bring. When bidding the Missionary goodbye and thanking him for his help, Patches looked at this good man, then impulsively threw her arms around his neck giving him a hug and kissing his cheek, much to his delight.

'You know Nickolas,' she said, 'Without your kindness and help we would have been lost. We were so lucky to have found you. I will not ever forget you, I promise.'

'Well I hope not, as we have become good friends.' he told her smiling, but silently pleased at her gratitude and display of affection.

John shook his hand and Nickolas looked at the both of them, aware he would miss their company, particularly that of Patches. 'Take care you two. I will also miss you, and remember that all my prayers will go with you both for a safe trip,' and he blessed them there.

Early the next morning, Patches, John and the native guide named Benai pushed the canoe off the beach and climbed into it long before the sun rose, both of them eager to get back home. The native sat on the middle seat, so he could take turns to paddle when they were tired. Patches stood up in the little craft wobbling a bit, and turned to look back at this lovely island refuge they had found. Seeing the Minister still standing there on the foreshore with his hand in the air, she waved madly back to him calling out loudly across the water, 'Cheerio Nickolas, and bless you. You see one day, God willing, we may return, so good bye for now.'

Then she sat down in the canoe as it rocked in the outgoing tide. With that call and a last vigorous wave, she and John faced the open ocean ready to tackle whatever it threw at them. Though feeling a bit sad at leaving this man and his island she was also keen to get going, and John touched her shoulder in a friendly gesture as he waved his hat back at Nickolas.

He jested to Patches, 'Well my dear, we're off again once more to venture out into a new day. Let us hope all goes well for us, love. Yes young lady, the three of us against the elements. Hurray!'

His statement made Patches giggle as John was normally a quiet person. They both felt like adventurers going out into the unknown, with a lot of hope and very little experience. While moving out of the lagoon in the canoe past the reef into the ocean waters, the sun shone on their faces and the sea birds flew all around them seeking fish. With Benai's strength and help, they were hopeful that this paddling would lead them in the right direction, and that this is a good decision. John still had his compass, so essential out here in this vast ocean, as it would be too easy to go the wrong way, but he was confident they would be all right. After a few hours paddling he held it up to check the direction in which they were heading.

Proceeding on at a slow pace for the first day until their arms became used to paddling, John and Patches found the sea not too rough, with just a few gentle waves. Benai, an old hand at this, paddled for longer periods giving the other two good breaks in between for eating and resting. So far it was easy, and luckily, the weather was fine though hot.

### CHAPTER 12

#### RESCUED - NEW EXPERIENCES

Patches had never been on the ocean like this and found the slight turbulence of the ocean waves so different to walking on the land. She thought she might even become sea-sick, but hopefully not as yet. Checking on John, she noticed it did not seem to worry him at all, as he was enjoying this time out on the ocean unrestricted by rules and jungles. Ahead and all around them, the sea seemed endless, with its blue greys and turquoise colours showing through the foam tipped waves.

Though given native hats made of palm leaves to shade their faces, they found these were very handy when the sun became so much hotter. Neither spoke much to each other, only when each stopped for a rest from paddling to let Benai take over. The native was untiring and always seemed happy. He could barely speak English, so they used their hands trying to communicate that way. Once when pointing up, John called out, 'Look my dear at that magnificent bird over there.'

Patches turned and saw a huge beautiful white bird descending towards them as if to look at these strangers on the water. 'Oh how lovely,' she said. 'Should we follow it? I wonder if it's giving us a message of some sort?' and she laughed, thinking, how silly of me! Then it turned and vanished into the sunlight its large wings carrying it easily.

Often flocks of sea birds would pass over them, their cries echoing through the sky as they followed the leader. Sometimes these birds would quickly dip into the ocean to feed where fish were jumping around in turmoil. The canoe would rock a little, and the waves would swing it around, but Benai would quickly straighten it to the correct course. They also had to watch that they never lost sight of where they were heading. With John keeping an eye on the compass, she kept a check on him, making sure he was not too weary while paddling.

If they both felt tired, they would signal to each other then ask Benai to stop, and each would slump down to rest in the space between the seats of the canoe. Leaning back for a while closing their eyes, they listened to the swish of the waves around the sturdy craft. Soon they felt the effects of the burning heat from the sun and its reflection from the water, and were grateful for the rough native hats Nickolas had given them.

Patches gathered up the salt water in her hands, throwing it on her face to cool it down, but John quickly warned, 'That is saltwater my dear, and it will dry your skin and make it worse. Don't do that!'

Not even thinking about it at all, she was grateful for his advice and thanked him. After a while she asked, 'I wonder how far we have travelled today, this ocean is so immense, you can't tell. Without that compass it would be so easy to get lost.'

'My guess is as good as yours my dear. It is nearing sunset, so hopefully the shipping lane must be coming closer,' he answered in a hopeful tired voice.

Both of them were not used to this way of travel, and with so much to watch out for and paddling in turn, the hours passed slowly. The ocean seemed endless, blue water stretching for miles with nothing in sight. It actually was like being deserted, and they both felt blessed for having each other's company, as well as Benai's presence always there. Patches decided it would be terrible to be lost in this vast stretch of water with no horizons in view, or anything but fish and birds to keep them company. Actually that was a frightening picture to consider, and she brushed it quickly away from her mind!

The first night came and the two of them took it in turns to sleep, with Benai keeping a watch on the steering as he paddled slowly nonstop. Patches woke up early, rubbed her eyes then stretched her back and arms, stiff from the way she had sat in the canoe.

After drinking some water, she took over the paddling to give Benai a rest, and called out to John. 'Come on sleepy head, it's time to use those muscles.'

He opened his eyes stretching himself too, then after she passed the water bottle to him for a drink he began to paddle. Later on having had his rest, the native Benai joined them, gazing out across the ocean looking for a ship of any size. The ocean as usual seemed to be deserted, just relentless waves of all sizes in every direction. Today they seemed to be paddling faster, making good progress, but once she nearly fell overboard. Looking over the side of the canoe she almost overbalanced when seeing fish jumping out of the water close to them.

'Watch out Patches,' John called out, 'I don't want to lose you. I wouldn't get too far without you my dear.'

They both laughed once she had recovered her balance. It was so good to laugh she thought. Before this for a long time, there had been nothing to laugh at. Some dolphins surged up from the water and they stopped to watch them until they disappeared out of sight.

'Gosh,' Patches said, 'That's a first. I have never seen such big fish like that before. They were so amazing. Look at how they swim through the water and leap up all the time. I wonder what they are called?' she asked John who scratched his head for a few minutes.

When remembering what he had heard, he told her, 'I think I heard once they are called Dolphins. Some of the men noticed them when we were in transit on the boats coming over here. They are supposed to be very intelligent and not at all dangerous, but beautiful to watch in the ocean. Also I believe they talk to each other as they swim.'

Patches was amazed at his reply, realizing that previously being on an island and older than her, he would have had more opportunity to know this. They paused to have some light food, and wipe their faces and necks with a damp but salty cloth, as the constant heat was terrible. She could feel her skin burning, even though breezes would spring up now and then to cool them down for a while. The reflection of the sun on the water made their eyes sore and tired so she kept checking on John, making him stop if he seemed tired, handing him the water to drink making sure he was O.K.

Sleeping at night was not easy, propped up near the uncomfortable hollow sides of the canoe, with aching arms, and skin red and sore. They knew they could not sleep for too long as Benai also needed his rest. He never complained, just kept on paddling for both of them. When they had been at sea for over two days, Patches began to feel the effect of the constant paddling affecting her arms and back, but mainly her shoulders when they became almost too tired to continue paddling. The food Nickolas gave them was nearly finished, and she wondered what they would do if a ship did not appear.

Looking at John she asked, 'I guess your muscles are as tired and sore as mine are John?'

He glanced at her not game to tell the truth, which was yes, he felt really done in. Soon he replied, 'Yes, of course Patches. Remember, after what we have been through, we are not as strong as we hoped to be. Never mind, a rest soon would be wonderful and we'll feel better.'

Touching Benai's arm, they showed him they wished to stop, and all of them had a rest. Patches suddenly decided to slide over the sides of the canoe into the water and hang on while stretching her body out with relief. Not caring at all that her clothes were wet, she did this and it was so cool. Benai's look was amusing when looking at her, and he just sat there, a slight grin on his brown face. John laughed, but leaned back against the sides of the canoe as his back was so bad.

Soon after, she struggled back in again, being helped by the two men. Benai continued paddling while they kept a watch out for ships. He seemed tireless, even though the heat was oppressive. The sun was merciless, boring down on them with no clouds in the sky to shade them from its burning heat. John's face and hands were bright red, and his skin even seemed to be blistering. Using his compass to guide them across the water towards the shipping lanes, John always watched for enemy planes or dangerous craft. Twice when hearing strange planes coming down lower, he called out, 'Quick Patches. enemy Planes, hurry. Over the side now.'

They both slid clumsily but quickly over the side of the canoe down into the ocean, hanging onto the edges until the aircraft had passed by. The water cooled their burnt skin, stinging them where it was scratched or raw. A few hours after getting back into the canoe, Patches realised her camera must of fallen out of her pocket, either before, or when they were in the water. She was pretty disappointed and annoyed with herself, as she had kept it for so long and it contained lots of pictures taken at the camp.

Looking at John she told him and groaned. 'What a shame John, I could have taken many more photos out here.'

'Well never mind my dear, but did you lose your other film?'

Checking her inside pocket she found to her delight it was still there in its case, which she hoped was waterproof because of her few dips in the ocean. 'Thank god for small mercies' she told him and had to be content with that good luck. It was the film she had tucked into her inner pocket when they jumped into the plane way back at the camp. The breeze picked up, and they found paddling in rougher waves was harder to handle, and with only a native palm leaf hat on their heads protecting them from the sun, their skins were red, hot, and dried out. Very weary and almost exhausted, they could barely paddle, but Benai did not seem to feel the heat or look at all tired, being so used to it. He never spoke, just muttered every now and then to himself, while quietly glancing at the two travellers.

Patches said to John, 'What a blessing Nickolas gave us Benai, as he has been marvellous. Without him we couldn't have got anywhere.'

John agreed they would not have paddled anywhere near this far. The next morning before they started out, John checked his compass once more. 'I would have estimated we'd see a boat or ship of some sort by now,' he commented. 'Lord, I hope we are heading in the right direction,' looking again at his compass to verify this.

'We are out of food too.' Patches told them and that was not good.

Within an hour with their water finished, Patches felt worn out and stopped for a rest. The heat was unbearable, so Benai and John stopped to have a look around the ocean. Slumping on the hard seat, Patches found her mind was too weary to think. John would not tell her how extremely tired he was feeling, as he knew this would upset her, but aware his strength had nearly gone, he prayed quietly to God for help. They paddled on for a while then paused again to rest as Benai took over.

The sea for a while was calm, and it was easier to look above the waves. The sun was glaring off the ocean making it hard to watch it, when suddenly glancing further out she noticed what seemed to be a large greyish blob way in the distance. She dared not say anything in case it was a mistake. A few minutes later when coming closer it did look like a boat of some sort, and Benai saw it at the same time pulling at John's arm to tell him.

Patches was thrilled, her heart beating so fast she could hardly speak, just pointing while calling out, 'John, John, look. Good heavens John, Benai. See, look over there. Is that a ship?' she cried out almost shouting with disbelief.

John shaded his face to stare, and nodded in agreement. They were both so elated though exhausted, and joined Benai in paddling quickly. Shortly after, they drew closer and stopped to have a proper look. Yes, it was a ship, a big one and it seemed to be a flying a British flag. Patches stood up trying not to rock the canoe, as both madly waved their hands and hats, until someone on the large ship finally spotted them. It gradually slowed down changing course, and shortly pulled alongside. Their ears filled with the overwhelming sound of the loud engine noise, as the wide tall sides of the ship dwarfed their little canoe. Curious pale faces looked over the side and voices were heard above their heads.

'Oh what a blessed relief, God has not forgotten us.' Patches said gratefully looking around at John who had become very quiet.

He was so weary, his arms felt like butter and his back hurt so much he worried he may have torn a muscle. The rays of the sun reflecting from the water had burnt his face and it was peeling and sore, and he knew in his heart he could not have paddled any further. But he did not want to tell this brave young woman who had worked so hard, knowing she felt as bad as he did, but really looked after him. Turning to Benai who just sat on his seat smiling, she and John thanked him, and she gave him a hug. John motioned to him not to go just yet. When a rope ladder was thrown down, wearily they slowly pulled themselves up the sides to climb on the deck with some of the crew helping, and Patches stood up calling out a request to a crew member.

'If it's possible, please could we have some water and food to give to the native man Benai before he leaves to go back to his island. Without him we would never have come this far. It's a hell of a way back to the island and we probably would have died!'

The sailor spoke to another who ran off, returning soon with a water bottle and a brown paper package of food, which they passed down to Benai. Saying goodbye in his language to her and John who shook his hands, Benai pulled away from the ship making slowly for his island, over two days across the ocean. He still sat straight and proud in the canoe, before pulling on the oars, not looking back at them. Both John and Patches were led across the deck to where some passengers stood, wondering why the vessel had stopped. Many stared, amazed at the sight of these two untidy, grubby weary people, suddenly appearing out of the water. Stiff and sore, it took a few minutes to recover their stance and walk properly, after sitting so long in the canoe.

Both John and Patches were escorted to the bridge to see the Captain who came down to meet them, introducing himself as Capt. Lloyd Butler. At first sight noticing the newcomers were either American or European, he allowed them to use the facilities of the ship to bath, wash up, and change into some fresh clothes. After completing that, both were happy. It was wonderful to be cool, clean, refreshed and not paddling anymore, so Patches and John proceeded to the Captain's quarters to offer an explanation. Being so far out into the shipping lanes in a canoe was a most unusual way of travelling and quite dangerous.

John spoke first. 'My name sir is John Willemsie, and I was at the Allied camp near the eastern coast until we had to leave in a hurry. But previously I worked for the Dutch Government.'

Pointing to Patches he said, 'Your turn now my dear, speak up.'

She paused to collect herself. 'Captain my name is Patchula Tia Montarro, though I am normally known by another nick-name. I also escaped with John and other soldiers from the Allied camp when we were attacked by the Japanese. My job there was as a nurse, part-time photographer and singer, and we are delighted Sir to find your ship. It is a blessing after those many hot days in the sun paddling a canoe.'

The Captain sat back rather astonished when hearing their story, and a curious look showed on his face. 'Well thank you both for this information. Later on, perhaps at dinner tonight we could hear more of your sailing adventure.' and they agreed.

Both of them were full of questions, asking the ships officer standing there if he'd heard any news of how the war was going. 'Right now, we have no idea of how the Allies are faring. Nothing has reached us on the liner for weeks, because of the restrictions imposed on radio transmitters,' he told them.

John and Patches were so relieved and thankful at their good luck in finding this ship, which was large and carried many passengers, even with the ongoing war. That evening the Captain asked them to join him and some other passengers, at the dinner table.

When seated he turned to them and remarked, 'We are making for America and hope to arrive there in a few weeks. You should be aware that enemy planes fly overhead and there is always the chance we may be attacked or torpedoed by submarines.'

Turning to Patches, he asked what she meant by her other name, and when she told him it was Patches, he smiled, 'Guess there must be a story about that, but what was your normal way of making a living?'

'Well sir, as I had told you, I am trained as a Nurse, also as a singer, but was asked to do some war photography for a newspaper if I could fit it in,' and he was greatly impressed.

Then turning to John, he asked him the same question. 'Originally I had been an Officer in the regular Army prior to the war, and I continued on in the Dutch service as a liaison and clerical officer when the war began. I feel much older and probably look it too,' John said laughing at his own comment.

The Captain asked if he could see them the next morning when they had recovered from their ocean experience in the canoe. They probably needed a good rest for a few nights. Patches smiled at his words.

'Yes Sir that we do, and gosh you have no idea how much we need that. I guess you could call our trip in the ocean an experience,' she said, 'It was more like a voyage of haste and discovery for us both, as neither had paddled at all, or so far before in our lives.' and she smiled to herself, thinking back to their strenuous efforts in the canoe. Glancing at John she glimpsed a twinkle in his eyes at her words.

Early the next morning after a good sleep and a wonderful breakfast, she and John met the Captain in his office, and after sitting down he explained why he had asked them there. 'If you both wish, I can give you temporary positions here to work on this ship until we land. Of course, please take a few days off to recuperate, and enjoy any benefits we can offer you. What do you both think about that?'

She and John were quite pleased at this unexpected offer, though John paused before speaking. 'Thank you Sir, I am sure there is something I can do aboard, but would like to get my strength back first if that is O.K. I do have money back in America to be able to pay you for my passage, if needed.'

'That will not be necessary. Both of you just take your time and rest,' the Captain told him. 'Don't worry yourself about any money John, it's the least I can do for you under the circumstances. However yes, take a few days more to improve your health,' the Captain replied with a smile.

Patches was delighted. 'Thank you Sir, that is a great suggestion, and I also will have those few days off first as well.'

They both shook his hands and left his cabin. It was a relief to have the time now to do nothing for a short while, except walk around the decks exploring this large ship. They could chat to the passengers, and if anyone asked, they would talk about their ordeal of their strenuous escape in the jungle and the canoe trip. This ship carried many passengers, and she and John both enjoyed the freedom of all the benefits aboard, having their own cabins and lovely meals served.

Once the passengers became familiar with them, most were easy to talk to and exchange ideas with. Mainly the talk was of the war and travelling anywhere, when or if it was safe to do so. After that, both started light work, though John's health was still not good, due to his not being able to concentrate properly.

When talking together, John told her 'I do hope the other men reached their destinations, as they all headed in a Northerly direction.'

'Yes John, but Jim and Aussie left earlier so they should have found an army camp before Brett and Frank. They were both walking into areas where there could be more fighting and danger.'

Afterwards, Patches was given a special camera by one of the crew, as she mentioned she had accidently lost hers at the time they had to slip into the sea when planes appeared. Luckily, she had the first film in her inside jacket pocket. Thanking them, she photographed the passengers and crew during the day, or sometimes in the evenings. Occasionally she was given the opportunity to sing along with the small ship band to the assembled passengers and crew, and felt so happy being able to sing again for a change. The passengers really enjoyed her singing and showed it by clapping constantly.

When feeling better, John was asked to work in other ways around the ship and this gave him a little incentive to make some money for himself. Luckily, they did not encounter any submarines, but some enemy planes flew overhead very low, and soon the two of them began to relax and enjoy this way of life while they could. Patches was able to find more clothes on board in the little Tourist shop, after living in army outfits for so long. It gave her immense pleasure to feel like a woman once more after all those weeks in uniform in that hell of a jungle.

She often reminded John, 'God, I don't think I will ever forget the heat and humidity in that dreadful jungle when stumbling through it as we did. Now I realize why the natives all live along on the coastline.'

'Yep, you are right,' John said. 'I suppose this is why living near the sea over here has so many benefits, other that swimming in it with ones clothes on, and paddling canoes.' he said, giving her a wry laugh as he commented on this.

They continued working on the ship talking to the passengers, and Patches, who had never been on a large tourist ship before was amazed at the facilities on board even during a war. The Captain was pleased with their work, particularly with Patches being able to entertain the passengers as well. and she showed them she had a lovely voice. So far she had not bothered to tell him of the reason for her nickname as to her this was not important.

One morning, after going to his office to ask him some questions about the war, she enquired, 'I wonder if you would have the time to let me know what is happening with the Allies and the war? On board we hear very little, only the gossip from the passengers.'

'Of course, my dear young lady, though we have very little communication, only what is necessary. One has to listen to the news whenever it comes through. If you go down to the officer in the radio room, he can help you with that.' She thanked him and was about to leave when he touched her sleeve to ask, 'By the way young woman, you were going to explain your odd nickname.'

Patches smiled at him while turning back to reply, 'I guess you may think this is an unusual name, but at the time, it applied. As a very young child I was rescued from an island during a Tsunami by a Minister and his wife who were staying there at the time. They gave me that name because of the state of my clothing, which was patched and very wet.'

The Captain was quite interested at her words, giving her a bemused smile, as she continued, 'Even though later on when adopted, my parents gave me the name of Patchula, I have found the original name always sticks with me, and I am quite happy about that.'

He was greatly intrigued by the name of Patches for a woman. 'It is so quaint but certainly different, and no doubt suits you,' he remarked. 'I have the feeling you are not the usual sort of lady who goes shopping, plays bridge, and joins woman's groups'.

She nodded no, laughing at his comments thinking - _You sir would be very surprised if you even knew the half of it,_ then left the office, making her way to the radio room to talk with the officer there.

He gave her some information which was all she needed to know for now, then proceeded to tell John.

### CHAPTER 13

#### ATTACKED - DISCOVERIES

Early one morning a few days afterwards and just after breakfast, they heard some planes coming in closer and flying very low. Most of the passengers did not bother to look as they were used to this, but Patches and John who had gone on deck for a breath of fresh air, were standing on that side as the planes approached. All of a sudden, John had a premonition these could be dangerous.

'Christ,' he exclaimed to Patches, 'I'd say those bloody blighters are going to attack us right now. We'd better quickly warn the others on deck and move out of range.'

Calling out loudly to some other men nearby, he hastily grabbed her arm to drag her across into the nearest doorway just as the first two planes dived down onto the ship, splaying it with gunfire. Patches was shocked, hanging onto John's arm and let out a muffled cry as they crouched down lower onto the floor of the room. Bullets flew everywhere, and windows shattered nearby. This was so unexpected that some of the crew began to race around to their battle stations on deck. Screams came from passengers standing up one end of the ship, as they were wounded by the spattering guns. Fire broke out, spewing flames into the air, bursts of gunfire shots hit the lower end section of the ship. Pieces of the structure on the upper deck flew around landing everywhere. No-one knew where to go or what to do.

Confusion reigned amongst the distressed passengers, and many below hid in their cabins or stayed in the main room inside the lounge area. The noise reverberated around the deck amidst the cries of the passengers. Smoke appeared from the wreckage on deck causing panic. Immediately the Captain at the wheel shouted orders to the crew, and the ship began to manoeuvre slowly to avoid the attacking planes in case they turned around to come back and shoot at them again.

On the ship the crew had rushed to their gun positions on deck, then returned the shots until the planes departed. They quickly used hoses to try and halt the spread of flames on the deck where part of the structure was wrecked and burning. All of this noise, smoke and flames were upsetting to older couples who had never experienced an attack before. The ship began to slow down to allow the Captain to have the damage checked.

Meanwhile John, who had not moved until the planes had gone, had turned around and pulled Patches up from where she lay on the floor, and he exclaimed loudly, 'We had better report to the Captain to see if either you or I are needed for any reason to help the passengers.'

Patches nodded, regained her composure, straightening out her clothes, and tidied up her hair. 'Gosh thanks John for your sixth sense in getting us out of danger,' she replied, giving him a kiss on the cheek, adding, 'Perhaps I had better go and see if any of the upset passengers need assistance, as some might be hit by debris. Many of those poor people would be terrified about this, even knowing the war is still on.'

Neither of them knew the total damage above deck at either end, and could not see the flames or smoke from where they were. Small pieces of the upper deck lay around and they both hurried to make their way below deck as the ship was slowing down. Speaking over the intercom, the Captain told the passengers to gather in the main lounge Hearing the announcement made, within minutes nearly everyone gathered in the main lounge as Captain Butler made his speech.

'Could I have your attention please? I wish to inform you that the enemy planes have gone, and the small amount of damage done to the ship is now under control. If everyone assembled here would report to the purser and staff, we can hopefully verify whether anyone is shot or injured, also we'll have all the identities checked in case someone is missing.'

He paused and waited for anyone to speak. Nothing was said for a few minutes, until there was a sudden cry from an older woman who had entered at the other end, and rushed into the room.

In a hysterical voice she cried out, 'I think my husband is hurt from the flying pieces on the deck. He is still up there lying on the floor with blood all over him. Could someone please go and help him now.'

She was crying and very distressed, and when Captain Butler heard her he looked around to see Patches nearby. Nodding to her he passed a message onto a staff member to find one of the medical team to come, and Patches quickly made her way to where the woman was standing.

Leaning over she spoke quietly to her. 'Madam I am a trained nurse and I can give you some assistance. Please tell me where on deck your husband is lying. I will go up with a staff member and attend to him.'

The woman just pointed, too upset to even follow her. Patches and two members of the staff hurried upstairs to find the injured man who was up the far end of the top deck just lying there, only half-conscious. The staff members, a young male medical assistant stood there waiting as Patches checked the passenger to see how badly he was injured. She felt his pulse, noticing his complexion was very pale. Soon the medical staff arrived with a stretcher, and they carried the wounded man down below to the necessary rooms for Patches to clean and bandage his wounds. There were surface cuts everywhere with deeper ones on his back, shoulders and head. This took her a while and after administering liquid medicine to help him sleep, she left the cabin to go to hers. By then she was feeling the strain as much as the other passengers were, and hoped for a minute there was nothing else to be done.

Shortly after, John who had been looking for her knocked on her door and opened it enquiring, 'Patches my dear, are you O.K?' Entering the room, he could see her sitting on the chair just leaning back, looking too quiet which was unusual.

She nodded to him, 'It's okay John I am right now. It was certainly a shock when actually hearing that gunfire, after we've been having such a quiet journey. How are all the others, and is anyone else hurt John?'

She smiled at him, but looked dismayed at his next words as he regretfully told her, 'Yes as a matter of fact, a few other passengers are also hit by the flying debris, so you have more to do my dear. They've been taken to the medical unit and the attendant there needs your help.'

Sighing Patches went down to the area where the injured passengers were waiting below. With only one medical attendant there to assist her, it took nearly an hour to treat the bleeding wounds, and bandage any deeper ones. Then she handed out tablets to prevent infection until all was completed, and she realised the dinner gong had sounded, so she joined John and the others in the dining room. After just seating herself, the Captain entered the room and approached her to stand beside the table, relief evident on his face.

'It is indeed a blessing for us that you are on board Miss Montarro. I want to thank you for your helping our staff and intern with this situation. Luckily not too many were badly hurt and the damage to the ship is not serious.' Bowing, he shook her hand.

Patches felt flattered but slightly embarrassed at his remarks, but with a shy smile, she replied, 'Well Captain, at least this is one way to show my gratitude to you Sir, for picking us up out of the sea when you did. Maybe God works in mysterious ways, and was on both our sides when you came along and we met.' she said smiling.

John just held her hand and squeezed it, understanding her words, then he looked thoughtful and whispered, 'You know Patches. I am not very religious but for once, I really do believe what you said. I guess there is a reason for everything,' and he sat there thinking to himself about her meaningful remarks.

The ship proceeded on its way, and for quite a while the attack was the talk of the ship. Passengers settled down, though many often watched the skies in case this ever happened again. Now they were aware that it could, the crew became more vigilant when on duty. Those who were injured would often seek Patches out to show their gratitude, and chat with her and John as they continued with their work on board.

The day arrived for the ship's landing in the closest deep-water port on the West coast of America and everyone prepared to leave. Both John and Patches thanked the Captain for his kind help and said goodbye. Finding suitable transport they made their way back inland from the Coast to Medford, where the Army headquarters were, and reported to the nearest Government officials. Both Patches and John were amazed to find they had been reported as missing in action, and she was asked many questions about the condition of other wounded before leaving the camp in such a hurry. Seeing it was quite a while since they'd been at the Army camp, there was very little either of them could tell the Officers of the present situation in that area. Immediately Patches contacted the Commanding officer who had recruited her, repeating her story to him.

Surprised and pleased at her sudden appearance, he remarked, 'You know Miss Montarro, although at first I was hesitant about your joining the forces, we now realize that the work you accomplished over there in the camp was worth it. Please accept our gratitude, and of course we will replace your lost camera and musical machine left behind when you escaped from the enemy. No doubt there is a lot more you can tell us, and I will expect a written account when you are able to do that.'

A little stunned at his words, Patches thanked him, 'Yes Sir, I guess I could almost write a book about my life in the army, and of my unexpected adventures in the jungle when the plane came down. One day I may do that. It was not a pleasant experience for me or anyone else, I can tell you. We were all there to serve our country, but believe me Sir, those islands over there are dammed hot.'

This remark did make him smile to himself. She thought for a minute, 'Sir, the missionary we met in the village after our escape from those Japanese soldiers was very helpful, and one day I hope, if possible in the future to make it back over there and see him once more. There is a lot to be done over there, but I will send in my report as soon as I settle in and get down to it, Sir.'

After that comment, she shook his hands and left his office to find her way back home. Patches would always remember that wars leave behind dreadful disasters, physical injuries and crippled humans in its wake. The effects are rarely forgotten. However, since the previous air attacks on Pearl harbour, the situation with the war had changed, as the Americans and Allied forces had taken aggressive action against Japan. It was not long before the end, which occurred with the drastic action of dropping the Atomic bomb on Hiroshima in August 1945. Thousands of Japanese civilians killed or horribly injured, suffering dreadful scars from the radiation effects of the bomb, and the after effects of this action would resound around the world for many years in the future. No one would ever forget the 'Atom bomb' dropped by the Americans.

It was such a relief for Patches not to hear details of the war any more on the radio or in the papers. News flashes of the dead and injured were shown in the picture theatres and in the papers, with the details of the Japanese surrendering. So many badly injured soldiers returned to their own countries and many hundreds, physically and mentally disturbed by the terrible treatment they received, found it would take years before any of that was forgotten. Lives lost, towns and cities destroyed leaving children without fathers, families without men folk and loved ones, so many lives changed forever.

Now, at least five months off being twenty seven, Patches was again living at home in Medford where she had moved to before she joined the army. With the war ending, she has the opportunity to visit the Convent and the Catholic Hospital where she once recuperated. Healthy and well in her mind, she was again asked to visit and sing to the wounded and sick soldiers in the hospitals, as well as taking photos. These were published as a way of raising money for the war victims, and to help the men's recovery afterwards. When those duties finished, the Head Sister at the hospital called, wanting her to come back and do something special for them.

When she arrived, the Head Sister Eunice greeted her, then with a smile she suggested, 'My dear, would you mind changing your identity for a short time and dress up as a clown called Patches as is your name? You can talk and sing for the children and it would be fun making them laugh. Hopefully it will help them to forget how sick they are.'

Patches was delighted and instantly agreed, 'What a wonderful idea sister Eunice. It will be so different being a clown and that in itself, will take my mind off the many bad times I also went through,' and she laughed, swinging herself around and as in a dance. Throwing her hands up and pulling funny faces, she just 'acted the goat' for the Sister who actually chuckled at her antics.

She loved this new job, watching the little ones giggle and laugh, no matter how sick they were. Soon the money she was making from her singing performances and the photography helped with her living expenses. After hearing of her return and no longer being in the Services, Robert came to visit her again, and she was delighted to see him. He looked so handsome, and was not only intrigued to hear of all the adventures she had gone through, he was completely astounded.

'This is all unbelievable,' he remarked in a voice full of admiration when she had finished her tale.

'Almost captured, hiding in the jungle from enemy soldiers, and escaping, then paddling a canoe across the Pacific Ocean if only for a little distance. Finally, your ship being attacked by enemy planes when coming home. Good heavens Patches, you could write a book about all of that. Never at any time would I have considered you were capable of or ready to attempt such action and adventures. My dearest lady, you astonish me!'

Seeing the look on his face she added, 'Of course I had a male friend to help me with the paddling, and a native named Benai.' Giving him a cheeky grin she added, 'It was really O.K. because he was much older and not well, having been a prisoner for many months. So you can clear your mind Robert, of any wicked thoughts,' and both burst out laughing at her droll comments.

'You are certainly a surprise packet, Patches. Having achieved so much in such a short time, and you have obviously changed for the better. I can see much more confidence in you and am really pleased your nursing training came in hand. I hear you're still doing the photography and singing. This is wonderful, because you seem to have a knack for all of these talents. Congratulations young lady.' Robert sounded so sincere, she was really happy at hearing his words.

After saying this he leaned over to give her a big hug until she gasped for breath, crying out, 'Whoa there man! I need to breathe! The training you've had in the forces has given you muscles of steel, Robert.'

Laughing at her he took hold of her hand, 'By the way Patches, there is a photographic show coming to town in a few months. Would you like to come and see it with me?' he asked her. 'It's on in about eight weeks.'

Patches was indeed interested and agreed to go. Her own photographs shown in magazines and the papers were very realistic and recognized, and she found that once again her talent was becoming known, as it had been before. Her love of this art and her own experiences, have all given her an insight into the emotional side of what she has endured in her life, and this new realization showed in her pictures.

Unbeknown to her, because her photographic work was being exhibited in galleries and papers under her name, it was unbelievably noticed by a firm of lawyers over in Australia. Many years ago, this firm of lawyers who settled her adopted parent's estate, had been searching for her for a long period of time after losing contact with her foster father Andrew, when he ceased to reply to their letters. Almost giving up hope of finding her, they had continued to search. Then they noticed the name of Patchula Tia Montarro when she began to sing again and exhibit her photographic work, and that was the name from her childhood that caught their eye which they were familiar with.

A short while later she received a letter from a law firm back in Australia which intrigued her. She opened the letter curious about its contents, as she had never received any letters from legal firms before. She read they had been searching for her for many years, never giving up, even though the Andrews couple ceased keeping in touch with them so long ago. Inside she also found directions from the Legal firm to fly to Australia to see them, as they wished to disclose to her some personal information, and all her expenses for this trip were paid for.

Completely dazed by everything she showed Robert the letter, so he arranged to fly over with her to provide her with some company and his support, a blessing she had always appreciated. They set off immediately, and after the long flight, they arrived in Sydney, then are taken to a comfortable hotel in a large city she had never seen before. The next day the two of them proceeded to the offices of the solicitors in the city, noticing all the buildings and noise everywhere.

Cars filled the roads, trams made their way down the middle of streets, and people were hurrying to catch buses or strolling around to the large shopping centres. To Patches this was a big unknown city, with hundreds of people walking in all directions in the streets, trains leaving the stations, and vehicles everywhere. It all bewildered her so much she sat in the taxi nervously, glancing a Robert who was not bothered by anything he saw.

He seemed actually interested, then saw her anxiety and held her hand. 'Don't' worry my dear. These cities are all the same. You will get used to it soon.'

In a while she calmed down and thought about the letter she'd received from those lawyers. This had come 'out of the blue' and puzzled her quite a lot. Since her early childhood she'd never had anything to do with lawyers, and even the idea of them needing to see her was puzzling, but exciting. When finding the building in which the lawyer's office was situated, they took the lift and proceeded upstairs to the third floor. Robert waited outside deciding to read a book while there. When seated in the office, she met a Mr Bentley the senior lawyer, and he glanced at her face, seeing a very grown up woman, vastly different to the young child he knew she had been before she left Australia all those years back.

Looking at her for a few minutes, he wondered about the circumstance of how she had been living, and how it enabled her to become the talented lady she now appeared to be. Quite intrigued, he first asked her age and told her it was to verify she truly was the actual young woman they had been seeking.

Patches told him, 'Well sir, if I recall, I guess I must be either twenty six, twenty seven, even more. Have never really thought about celebrating my birthdays, or remember my birth date, I hope this is correct?'

Unfolding a pile of papers he glanced at them, and nodded his head before speaking. 'No doubt you have no idea of why you are here Miss Montaro?' he asked.

Patches just smiled and nodded her head. 'No sir, but I am indeed curious. This is the first time in my life I have had anything to do with lawyers.'

'Well my dear, you will remember your parents who passed on those many years back, and whose estate and business details we were unable to settle quickly at the time.

'I am afraid I recall very little of that period, as it was too upsetting for me. Of course, now I understand why you have been searching for me.'

'Well my dear young woman, from this moment I have to inform you that your parents were really astute when arranging the means of providing for you. After their death you stood to inherit quite a lot of bonds and property etc. Due to our not finding you, and since then, it has prospered indeed.' He then sat back to watch her face. 'You are now the owner of a very substantial amount of property and money, left to you from your first parent's estates, many years back.'

Patches gasped as her eyes opened in astonishment. She could not grasp the reality of what he was telling her. 'Oh dear heaven,' she exclaimed, amazed by this news. 'That was such a long time ago. How is this possible? Why didn't someone ever let me know?'

He stroked his jaw before replying, 'Strangely, there were unusual incidents we can tell you about now. These estates were sold in accordance with your parents requests in their will after their deaths, and the money was invested until we could inform the recipient, who apparently seemed to vanish into thin air.' the lawyer replied nodding his head regretfully. 'This recipient was the little girl who was left an orphan. You my dear! That American couple who took you over to their home in America never kept in contact with us, in spite of our many letters, so we had no way of finding you over all those years, though we investigated for a long time.' he said with a smile watching her face.

'You mean the family who took me to America did not know this either? I cannot believe they didn't contact you at all after I left Australia with them, all those years back. Oh my goodness, if I had known, it would have made such an amazing difference to my life. You have no idea, Mr Bentley sir.' Patches just sat there, incredulity written all over her face. It was too much for her to take in right then.

'How do you feel now, Miss Patchula Tia Montarro? You are an heiress to an incredible, substantial legacy,' he said, looking at the stunned expression on her face. She had such a dazed look in her eyes that words failed her, as her mind absorbed everything he had told her.

She, Patches, originally an orphan with nothing, whose life in America had been so terrible in the beginning, and she who had worked hard to earn any money, was now receiving this unbelievable news. It caught her with absolute astonishment, taking quite a few minutes for it all to sink in. She leaned back in the chair feeling faint, but completely overwhelmed. Seeing her reaction, the lawyer waited for a few minutes then continued speaking.

'This money invested in accounts overseas has earned a huge, steady amount of interest for many years over a long time, and is here now for you to claim. It will be deposited in an account in your name if you wish, or our firm will advise you on the best way to use it my dear. You have no idea how much we are talking about, do you my dear?' and he wrote down figures on the piece of paper in front of her.

Patches still sat there in shock, bewilderment evident on her face, then glancing at his written words, she was speechless. The total was such vast, impressive amount of money, and to her a vast fortune, almost beyond her comprehension! Remembering her first parents only as faint figures in her memory, she understood what they had sincerely and lovingly done for her, as their adopted daughter. Particularly knowing the fact all this had been planned and accomplished when she had been just a little girl.

'My goodness,' she exclaimed nervously, shaking a little, 'This is like having a fairy godmother appearing and waving her wand. You have no idea how amazing and truly wonderful this news is, and I hope I will know just how to put much of it to really good use in a practical way. It is a dream come true sir. It's so hard to believe, and such a long time after my mother and father's death occurred all those years back. Oh my goodness, and I cannot thank them in any way. If only they could know what a wonderful, blessed gift this money is, and hopefully will be to others,' she exclaimed.

Patches was overjoyed and in tears by now, pulling out a handkerchief to dry her eyes. Ecstatic and excited, her nerves pounding through her, as myriads of thoughts raced through her mind. She had to steady her hand to sign the necessary documents, gratefully thanking the firm for looking after her interests, and for finally discovering her when they did. She knew they would also receive their just rewards for their wise investments, plus the searching and the result of their efforts. She left the office feeling as though she was walking on a cloud.

Still numb with the shock she walked to the room outside, where Robert glanced at her face with concern and noticed she was strangely silent, almost unsteady on her feet. Holding her arm as they left the building and returned to the Hotel, until she sat down for a few minutes ready to speak as Robert down on a chair close by.

Looking at his face and holding his hands, her eyes were bright and she shook with excitement and exhilaration, and the words tumbled out.

'Guess what Robert,' she said. 'You just won't, you know,' she smiled nervously as she continued, 'No, you couldn't possibly guess.'

He grinned at her eagerness to talk and held her hand to steady her nerves, but did begin to look a bit sceptical when listening she started her story.

'Those lawyers I met this morning have just given me the most astounding news. It is so hard to even believe it myself. Hang on to your hat Robert!' she laughed, knowing he was not wearing one. 'Soon I will be in possession of a huge amount of an unbelievable fortune, left to me by my first parents who adopted me as a child.'

She stopped to watch his face for his reaction. For a minute, he looked curious and said nothing, then gave her a roguish smile as he asked, 'Well my dear, this must be wonderful news.'

She hugged him but replied, 'This is really an amazing amount of property and money and all mine too. If it is possible, I can now return so many favours to you and other people, for all you have done for me.'

Sitting there she shook her head thinking, _This is really a miracle from God. I am truly blessed!_

She just sat there completely overwhelmed by all that had just occurred, and could not think or speak. Her mind was numb. Robert looked at her watching and waiting for the next words she would tell him.

### CHAPTER 14

#### A WONDERFUL PERIOD

For a few minutes there was silence in the room then with an expression of uncertainty on his face, he asked. 'I guess you must be serious Patches. You actually look a bit overawed by it all. What do you plan to do next? Buy up whatever you wish for, a car or a house, or decide after a few weeks?'

'Oh Robert, of course not! How stupid do you think I am? I am not joking you know. What do you think my dear friend? It's just blows my mind thinking about it? Never in a million years would I have anticipated this news.'

He sat there, now quite impressed by her statement and did not speak. Then giving her a gentle hug he just whispered in her ear. 'My darling girl, Patches, Patchula, or whatever you wish to be called, this is one thing you really deserve. So go out and do your 'darndest' sweetheart,' giving her a kiss on the face.

She knew he was teasing her and cheekily prodded him, as she did not mind whatever he said, nothing could ruin her day now. After all, he had been a wonderful caring considerate friend when she needed one, regardless of what she was then. Without him she still would have been a prisoner in the dreadful brothel.

Nodding her head, she told him, 'I know a special person who could find this money useful in so many ways, and advise me as well. There is much I can do now to help certain people. When I am ready to do anything at all, I will know if it's the wrong or right way to go.' and she leaned over touching his hand tenderly, as she always held deep feelings inside her for this special man. Leaning across she kissed his cheek.

'That's a relief,' he said,' I thought you were going to ditch me now you are wealthy and needed plenty of time to consider all my options.'

At his comment, they both laughed so much, 'Robert, as though I would, how can you say that?' she asked, 'You have meant so much to me for years.'

Deciding now they would have a drink on her newly found wealth, Robert brought out a bottle of wine he had ordered earlier at the Hotel, two drinks were poured, glasses clinked and 'down the hatch', he said grinning at his remark, but also her expression when tasting the wine. He knew she rarely ever drank anything at all since her experiences at the brothel. They talked about her inheritance for a while, as she was still in a mixed mood from receiving so much money, and her decisions were mixed, and yet it was just thrilling to think about it. She, Patches, owning all this incredible wealth of inheritance.

The next day he took her out and around in Sydney to a show and the Theatre, such outings she'd never been to before. Patches seemed happy and enjoyed herself so much he was pleased. Robert was such a selfless companion, and she felt very sorry that she could not take their relationship any further as he had hoped for some years back. That however was in the past. He had come into her life when she was desperate, and helped her to change her entire existence. He was the one who had encouraged her to learn to be a nurse and photographer, and without that acquired knowledge, she would never have joined the Army and gone through all the adventures she experienced overseas.

Patches knew the most important thing was whom she met in the future, and all she had learned. Robert had always been her special friend, and even more throughout her assault and after that, even though she had not accepted his proposal. She would always care deeply for him, but only as a brother, remembering vaguely her one brother had died in the terrible Tsunami flood years before. To be able to really love him as he deserved had entered her heart and mind, but this was not possible now. It all seemed so unfair, but then she had found since that life was like that. She would love when she was ready, and hopefully with the right person who had an understanding of her problems.

They walked around the Harbour and the city, seeing the progress made over the last few years, then stopped for a while to sit in the large park beside the Harbour just looking at the water, eating fish and chips out of a bag. They stayedt there watching the small boats and ships passing by or docked at the jetties which was so relaxing, and she closed her eyes, thanking God for her good fortune and Robert's friendship.

She had left Darwin as a young, immature, naive' child, and today she was a grown woman with enormous experiences and potential behind her. While they sat there in silent contemplation, he squeezed her around the shoulders, turned and looked at her face. The expression she could see on his was sad and it affected her deeply.

'You know my dear sweet Patches, I will always be disappointed that we cannot be together as man and wife, but never mind. I have accepted your decision and am lucky to have your friendship. You know I do still love you, and I do understand your reasons for not going further, but let's hope we stay friends for ever.' and saying that he gently kissed her on the side of her face, then her lips, holding her closer to his body.

She felt so emotional at his words that tears ran down her cheek at his kiss, and she put her arms around him but stayed silent. Robert treated her as an equal in everything, giving her understanding, love and affection, plus accepting the changes in her. He knew she was so much wiser now with all she had gone through. Holding back on his own feelings, Robert realised she had so much to be grateful for, as these new developments would occupy her mind completely. Nothing else mattered, and probably wouldn't for some time. Patches had become a very enlightened but determined woman with deep feelings, and was still an attractive one as she grew older. He tried to estimate her age but ddid not like to ask, not at this moment.

Recovering from her heartache, Patches took his hand and whispered, 'My darling Robert. You gave me a new life and a reason to go on living. I will never forget that and will always love you, even if it is not enough for a lifetime. You know why my dearest, and it cannot be changed!' Borrowing his handkerchief she wiped the tears from her eyes, shaking her head. 'Now, no more of this sadness! I have something amazing to be thankful for, and we must remember this. God has given me another chance and I have to use it to its best capabilities and do what is necessary.'

His memory returned to the days when he first met her at the brothel, a thin, sad young girl of seventeen, full of despair and wanting to die. His helping her then saved her life and mental state, and he knew she would always be grateful for what he had done for her when remembering the hell he had taken her away from. Though he loved her still and knew the reason for her refusal of marriage to him, it was something he had to get over. She had too much else to consider and think about. What she would do with all this money, though knowing she would use it for something that was really important. Patches had always learned to live frugally most of her life, and did not waste money on non-essential things, so Robert brushed all these thoughts and speculations from his mind.

He was really enjoying this time away with her, and realised she was too. After the final settlement of the legal papers had gone ahead and the money was transferred to an account in her name, she and Robert returned to America. He returning to his own work, and she attending to her nursing and other artistic occupations, singing and photography. On her arrival at home the first task she did was to ring the Reverend Mother and ask to see her. Boarding a tram straight around to the Hospital, she walked across to the Convent and met the Reverend Mother in the office for a discussion. Patches stood there, an excited look in her eyes as Reverend Mother placed her arm across the young woman's shoulders to hug her gently.

'Welcome and sit down my dear, it has been a while.' she said.' What have you been doing with yourself, and what is it you wish to tell me Patches? It must be important. I can tell by the look in your eyes. You do seem to be so much happier and different, but you seem very pleased about something.'

'Dearest Reverend Mother,' replied Patches 'I am so very happy. To my surprise, recently I have been extremely lucky, and that is through receiving a legacy left to me by my first adoptive parents. It more or less 'came out of heaven', so I've heard said. It is now possible for me to donate a sum of money to the hospital and the sisters for their hard work. All of this is in gratitude for all your wonderful help in the beginning, and again, allowing me to have the fun of clowning around at the hospital for the children and taking photos of them.'

Reverend Mother just sat there quietly, lost for words, trying to understand what this young woman Patches was telling her. She smiled, thinking about her unusual name of Patches. Then she remembered the time when first seeing her here, and the dreadful condition she was in when she had arrived at the hospital. How things change, she thought, and how with perseverance and the right assistance, this young woman had recovered and bettered herself by working. Patches opened her purse and presented the Reverend Mother with a cheque for a large amount of money, then smiled at her startled expression, knowing they would be very grateful for whatever is donated.

'We will be most thankful for this my dear. You have gone through so much in a short life and deserve everything you are given,' Reverend Mother said. 'We will always appreciate anything you do and the wonderful benefits you give the children, as you are truly such a great example to everyone. God always has his reasons for his achievements, and you are one!'

Saying this Reverend Mother stood up, walked around to where Patches was sitting, gently touched her cheeks and kissed her. Patches blushed at these compliments, and saying goodbye she left the room. Going into the children's wards to see the sick children, she now felt happy that she had given back to this Hospital, which would benefit from the money she had just given to them.

Now keeping up with her photography and again being recognised for her artistic ability, at her next showing she received a public commendation for her donation of the proceeds from the sales to a local charity. She knew she would always be grateful to Robert for his suggestion to her a few years back as a young inexperienced girl, to take the opportunity to learn something useful. Doing this photographic work which she loved but for some reason she often felt seemed to be in her blood, though never understanding why.

The day arrived for Robert to take her as promised to the new photographic exhibition, and when inside and going around the galleries, she compared other photographers work displayed there to her style. Most of them were very different, or just basic. For an hour or more Robert and she browsed through various known photographers' work, then she noticed a large group of photos taken many years earlier. These were of some Pacific islands, taken by a well-known war photographer, and they looked at the exhibits with great interest.

'Look Robert, see there are many different scenes of a lot of islands in the Pacific. I wonder where that island is?' she asked, seeing some pictures of groups of the villagers near their huts or close to the ocean. He paused to have a look.

Then she noticed one photo showing several island men and women grouped together at the edge of the water. While studying it more closely she was instantly startled, and stopped to stare hard at one photograph on the wall. To her astonishment, she could see a native woman standing in front of a hut, who seemed to be an identical image of Patches herself as she is now. She had to look twice to convince herself it was not her eyes playing tricks on her. Not believing this obvious likeness, she pointed out the photo to Robert, and he too was just as puzzled as she was.

'This is really strange. She looks almost like my twin sister,' she told him.

'No this is more than odd,' he said. 'A woman who looks just like you, shown in an old photo of a village hundreds of miles away somewhere. It is really an impossible coincidence, and quite unbelievable Patches.' He too was puzzled.

Immediately making inquiries, they found out the name of the photographer was a David Sutherland, who lived in another State up in the North West, a short distance from here. This intrigued her so much she kept on looking at it, and was determined to follow up and find out something about him. Who he was, and in which year he had taken the photos, and which islands they were? The next day she made enquiries and impatiently rang the number she was given.

When the gentleman answered in a quiet voice, she enquired, 'Is that Mr Sutherland?'

She noticed when he replied, his voice seemed much older. 'Yes that is I. How can I help you young lady?' he asked.

'My name is Miss Patchula Montarro,' she told him.' You would not know of me, but I am interested in speaking to you about some of your photography taken out in the Pacific islands many years ago. If I may, could I come to visit and speak to you about them?'

Sounding intrigued but interested, he agreed asking, 'Do you know where I live? Tell me when, or which day you might be arriving? You have piqued my curiosity young lady. So if you don't mind, would you describe yourself to me. It is not often charming young women ring me up asking questions like that.'

She chuckled while answering, 'No, of course not, but first if you don't mind, please give me the directions and soon, within two days I will be there. To reply to your last question, I am tall, in my twenties with brown hair and light olive skin, and will ring you just before the plane leaves. Would you like me to wear a red flower in my jacket?' she joked, but he gently laughed, saying no, that was not necessary.

Patches felt pleased she'd rung the gentleman and was eager to go and see him. He gave her his address in another state, mentioning that he would try to meet her at the aerodrome, now he knew her description. She packed a few clothes telling Robert what she was doing, saying she would contact him later on when she returned. He of course understood her curiosity, as he too was curious. After a two hour plane trip, she walked into the airport lounge to see if anyone was there waiting, and when making her way towards the doorway she noticed a tall, grey haired gentleman waiting there.

He walked up to her and asked, 'Are you Miss Patuchula Montarro?' and he put out his hand to shake hers, then he seemed quite suddenly taken aback when glancing at her face. His eyes opened wide, and a startled expression appeared on his face which turned very pale when he looked at Patches.

Taking his hand and pleased to find him waiting for her at the airport, she looked across at him, seeing blue grey eyes in a pleasant face, receding hair, and a few fine wrinkles in his pale skin. For a few seconds somehow she felt he was familiar, which was strange, but decided that was impossible. However, she worried about his odd reaction to her and why? Picking up her small case, she left the airport with him as he drove a modern car, which travelled to a suburb a fair distance away towards the country. Arriving at his home, a large well-built brick house, they went inside, and when they sat down he brought out cups of coffee, still quietly looking at her with a extraordinary expression in his eyes. They showed a certain confusion, that was definitely odd and made her feel nervous.

Speaking softly he commented, 'Before we proceed, I must tell you that I have a medical condition which I picked up when working overseas, so excuse any blunders I may seem to make when speaking.'

She smiled, 'Do not worry sir, you look O.K. Mr. Sutherland.'

Then softly he asked her, 'What is it you want of me, my dear?'

She explained, 'I do hope you are a patient person, as my story is a long one. First, in one of your photographs displayed in the exhibition, I noticed a person almost identical to myself in one photo, which seemed really unusual. A native woman with an incredible likeness to me, right there in an old photograph. This was really mystifying as to how this was at all possible? Seeing that photo gave me a shock, and I can explain why. You see, as a little girl, I was rescued by two people from a devastating Tsunami which occurred on an island in the Pacific Ocean. I lost my family, mother and brother, but never knew my father, or knew which island it was, because I was too young at the time.'

She noticed he was leaning forward listening intently, now paying full attention to her words. Very briefly, she recounted most of what had happened to her afterwards, noticing his expression had rapidly altered as she related her story to him. When asking her age, and hearing it, he stared at her with amazed disbelief, leaning over to look very closely at her face. Hesitantly he put one hand out to touch her cheek, and to her consternation he suddenly broke down, tears in his eyes.

Leaning back in his chair, his voice choked with emotion, his hand covered his mouth in obvious distress. He seemed to be shaking, his hands trembling with emotion. Patches just sat there completely bewildered at his response to what she had told him. Within a minute he regained his thoughts and control of his emotions, staring deeply at her before speaking.

'My dear young lady, the woman you talked about in the photograph was your mother Sareena, and as incredible as it seems, I am certain that I am your father.'

Overwhelmed at his words, Patches cried out, 'Oh dear heaven', as nervous reactions flooded her body. She could not really believe the words he had just uttered. They took her breath away.

Catching his breath he continued, 'This is true my dear. Your mother and I met during a time when I was doing some special documentaries on the Pacific Islands, taking photographs,' he said his voice shaking, 'We fell in love, and afterwards before we realized she became pregnant. I had to leave the island on orders from my employers, but gave her a forwarding address as I wasn't able to take her with me. When returning home I was again moved to Northern Europe as a photographer for a new magazine, and could not get back to see her at all. It was very distressing for me as I was unable to get in contact with her in any way.'

He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, tears rolling down his cheeks. 'Yes, and though I sent some letters I was devastated, knowing she would have our baby without me there to help her survive. She wrote back to me afterwards saying she had given birth to a little girl and was moving to another island to be with her parents. After that letter caught up with me, I never heard from her again.'

His voice faded as he stopped, sadly remembering the events. 'I myself was moved around for many months, and unable to give her a definite address. Years later I heard about the terrible destruction done by the Tsunami and the flooding of many islands. I was unaware of where she had gone, or whether my daughter was still alive. For years I have wondered about my one and only daughter and her mother, but no more news was ever given to me.'

He said this sitting there still very emotional, a handkerchief held to his eyes, and she could see his body shaking with his emotions and thoughts. Patches was not only stunned but concerned for him, and while there close to him she attempted to offer comfort, genuinely affected by his words. Her mind was in a whirl, as she could not believe what had happened. This was not only startling, but totally unexpected wonderful news! A man she had just met who turned out to be her actual Father, right there, in this room beside her.

She could not help herself and also wept, the tears running down her cheeks, when thinking of the many years wasted without their knowing each other. It was staggering for them both! Leaning over she warmly hugged him close to her heart, to let him know she felt his emotions, and understood his obvious despair at the events concerning her mother. Especially having been so long ago.

When composed, he spoke again, 'My dearest daughter, if it is possible, would you stay here for a while? There is no doubt you are my daughter, and we can talk, share our memories and thoughts. There is just so much to know, and so many years to catch up on. I would be extremely pleased if you would consider this for me.'

'I'd love to do that, and we may find we have a lot more in common. Can I call you my father,' and speaking those words they again held each other closely feeling the instant bond between them.

A rush of emotion filled her heart with pleasure as she thought, what a glorious moment we are sharing, then they settled down and soon found that the long forgotten memories were returning. When talking to him about her mother whom she barely remembered, she would hold his hand feeling his fingers tremble in distress. Later through their conversation, she realised he was a very loving, compassionate man whose work had taken him away from her mother, leaving regrets and unresolved despair and emotions behind. Now with her there, he could feel he had a family, even if it was only one daughter.

It appeared that her brother was not his son, and he was unaware Sareena had given birth to another child who had also died. She also mentioned how she had acquired the name of Patches, and of course this made him smile. Over the next few months while she stayed with him they became closer, even when driving around the countryside seeing everything through his eyes. He brought out his professional cameras, advising her how to use them with the filters and other accessories. She was delighted to find they had this common interest, as well as realizing how much he loved her mother.

Really enjoying his company while getting to really know and understand him, now realizing she truly had a father figure in her life. She did discuss her adopted parents, telling him how loving and good to her they had been. One day he asked if she wouldn't mind him reading out a poem to her which was one of his favourites. 'It is a very beautiful one which I have had for years, as poetry brings you joy or solace in the bad times, and I'm sure you would like it.'

Going to his library he pulled out a small book, and opening it at a certain page he said. 'I do believe this poem brings hope and belief in oneself. Even the title fills one with optimism and confidence, traits lacking in many people. Now I do believe that you my daughter may have these feelings and dreams, as you have told me about them. I only hope you realize your potential and carry them out as you see fit, my dear.'

He paused to take a breath, then continued, 'This is named, "Follow That Dream" by a Lesley J.M,' and he read out the words.

Follow that dream to where those dreams will take you.

Go with your hopes to wherever they will lead.

Climb those stairs all the way, right up to the top,

For that is how your dreams will all succeed.

Follow your heart, forgetting trials before you,

Aspire to heights you know that you'll achieve.

Never forget to remember those small beginnings,

In your own success is what you must believe.

From your memories, chase away those dark shadows,

Open the door, let failures fall into the night.

Most dreams will be achieved with motivation,

And will eventuate if you keep them in your sight.

Hold your head up high as you follow your ambitions,

Plan your life as you walk the many roads ahead.

Embrace results as they arrive in simple splendour,

As honour is the reward earned where work has led.

Do not delude yourself you know it won't be easy,

It's a challenge to prove the ambitions there are right.

Deliver the ideals you learned and promised from the start;

And follow those dreams all the way up to the light.

Looking up at his face, Patches was so touched by the words and told him, 'Thank you father, that is a beautiful poem and it does really apply to me and my hopes for the future. Yu have no idea of how apt those words are, but encouraging. Could I have a copy made for me to take away?'

Smiling at her he replied, 'My dearest child, I hoped you would say that, as this book will be a gift from me. Take it and remember those thoughts during your life, they will help you, I know.'

Saying this, he handed the little book to her closing her fingers over the cover. Delighted with the gift, she hugged him and kissed his cheeks, putting the little book away in her bags. She knew now when reading those words afterwards, it would bring back the sound of his voice into her memory.

For days afterwards she recalled some of the meanings of those words, and would open the book and re-read them, smiling as she did. They certainly gave her hope and she thought, _Perhaps with this poem as a guide, my future will improve. Fate has taken a hand in that, and these words will help me, knowing my father showed them to me for a reason._ She was happy, having found this wonderful man who turned out to be her father in real life.

### CHAPTER 15

#### AN END AND A BEGINNING

While she was there with her father, his medical condition deteriorated, and he decided it would be better is she didn't see him like this, and said so, but she asked, 'Would you mind if I could stay on longer to help you through this illness?' aware in her heart, he may not live for many more months.

This kindly man was so pleased, as by now he was attached to this pretty, talented young woman, his one and only long lost daughter. He had never married and was all alone, but felt so much joy with having her there. Where he lived was a lovely quiet town with many gardens and parks, but he had kept to himself not really knowing his neighbours, so he was very lonely.

'If you wish to, I would be delighted to have you stay and keep me company dear, you are very special to me,' he said, a few tears slipping down his gentle worn face.

For her it was tragic. Finally finding her father, only to know she would lose him so soon. She enjoyed his playing on the small piano, or he would just read books staying at home. Having his daughter to help him was a wonderful blessing, and he was now at peace with his soul, never having forgotten his true love so many years ago.

Pleased to find she could also sing, he asked, 'My dear, would you sing for me and I will accompany you on the piano to the best of my ability.' which she did, delighted as he listened while accompanying her on the piano. It filled her heart when hearing him play for her as she sung, and it bought them closer than she thought possible.

Sometimes she asked him, 'Would you mind if I sing some of the songs the soldiers liked to listen to, but they are the old sing-along styles. If you know these perhaps you would like to join in with me?'

This he did, smiling at her unexpected fun of pulling faces, while she sang some of the humorous songs. For a minute he was amused then looked curious, so she explained, 'Remember Father when I told you I was a clown. These faces are the ones I always put on for the children. But never for the soldiers! They would have thought I'd gone crazy,' and she laughed, adding, 'Though I guess, a little bit of fun never goes astray anywhere.'

As she said this while dancing around the floor near the piano, he laughed as well feeling sublimely happy. She loved to listen to him, particularly some of the songs he remembered from when he was on the islands, and a few religious pieces from his church. She told him about the kind Missionary she had met on the islands during the war, and where she hoped to go back to one day and perhaps stay there.

'I owe that Missionary my life and want to show him some appreciation. He had a lot to look after and accomplish.'

To her distress, after ten months of illness her father quietly passed away in his sleep, and she cried, her heart breaking, knowing he had gone. Thinking of the years past, where she could have known and loved him at a time when she needed that in her life. Members of his Church and quite a few friends from his days of working as a photographer, attended his funeral to pay their respects, and they glanced at this young woman standing there expressing her grief. After the funeral, she made sure he had a lovely headstone over his grave, shaped like a book with a large heart behind it, and his name engraved on the book. It also included her name on the book as his only daughter. She still wanted his presence and his love there with her now, but he had gone too soon and she was missing him dreadfully.

The lawyers arranged for the sale of his home and possessions, which she was now informed he had left her, plus solid securities and money. Patches could not believe their words, and her eyes filled with tears when being told. It seemed that when she first arrived at his home and identified herself, unbeknown to her he had quickly changed his will, leaving everything to his newly discovered daughter. This tragedy of first finding her Father, and then his dying, had a deep effect on her mind, and she became distraught for quite a while afterwards. She wondered, why is it me who seems to lose those dear to my heart?

Returning back to her previous address in Medford, for a few weeks she kept to herself, rarely talking to or seeing anyone. The only consolation she told herself is the money he gifted to her in his will and the proceeds from the sale of his house. These would be a definite benefit for any future projects she might have in her mind later on. Living a quiet life as she does now, there is little she requires for her immediate future.

After her father's death, she realized she was tired of the life she had previously led and is still living, and desired to do something completely unlike anything else she had tried before. She now found herself longing for the peace of the religion she first knew as a little girl, and which for a while she received at the convent with the Reverend Mother. When staying with the nuns, she had begun to feel the need for the blessing of religion and belief in God, which had been lost from her life for quite a few years. She had to look and find the missing link.

Finding another way of living might bring new meanings back into her life once more. When able to put her grief behind her, decisions had to be made. Still only a young woman in her middle twenties, but with many years of sadness, trials, torment and adventure behind her, she wanted now to find peace in her heart. Also she wished to put the money left to her to good use, for sensible and long lasting purposes.

The times when she felt empty inside, she had this insistent urging to open her heart and feel useful again. Mainly she desired to fulfil some, or the rest of her long unspoken dreams and wishes. Her mind cleared as she made a decision. It was time to go away and search for the Missionary and see if he was still there. Since the war had ended, she realized Father Nickolas possibly would not be on the island where he previously had lived. She needed advice and guidance from the right person.

Returning to see the sisters at the Hospital she asked to see and speak to the Reverend Mother and was ushered into her office. 'I have some news you should know about Reverend Mother.' she said. Her voice changed as she stopped for a minute speaking unhappily. 'Nearly a year ago I found my real Father, and sadly now he has passed on. Nearly everyone I knew as a young child has gone from my life, and I have decided to return to the islands to help the people there in some way. They have many needs there, and now it is possible for me to provide a Hospital or School, or whatever is necessary. God, in his own way has blessed me with this money and I want to use it wisely.'

Reverend Mother noticed how much the events in her life had deeply changed Patches, the young woman standing there. The uncertain girl she had once known had gone, and was replaced by a mature woman with positive resolutions, but one who was seeking a new beginning. In her eyes could be seen a new determination. Reverend Mother agreed that Patches as she still calls her should have a rest first, before attempting anything right away. She had worked so hard for years in different ways, many which took a toll on her mind and health, and she really seemed tired.

Holding Patches in her arms she softly spoke, 'My dear, you have suffered much, and your life has never been what you desired. Perhaps you do need a new vocation, a new way of living. God has a singular place in his heart for you, giving you an important reason for this instinct you have. Somewhere you will find your dream, to do what is good and follow your heart. God will go with you when needed.'

Patches needed not only closure, but the satisfaction of fulfilment. She felt comforted, listened and actually took notice of the Reverend Mother words, and rested at home for two weeks. Today after leaving the convent she felt happy, and was renewed with this insistent urging of her heart. Next she found Robert to discuss her new ideas with, as this was important to her.

Visiting him and giving him a hug, Patches said, 'I am going away, and I cannot thank you enough for releasing me from the hell where you found me and for starting me on the road to all the success I have had.' When uttering these words tears, began to fill her eyes. 'Remember Robert, you did save my life, and you gave me the chance to find a new one. For that I will be eternally grateful to you. As well, you helped me to find my missing father, and that also was a Godsend to my life. Now I hope to help some others, wherever they are.'

He was so pleased to see her again, and held her tightly in his arms resting his head on hers, though regretful of not having her in his life to love and cherish as he'd wished 'My sweet Patchula, you deserve much more than you will ever receive here, and I do understand how you feel. I only wish they were for me. You are a very special lady with talents, and deep desires to do good for others.'

He realised when gazing at her, that for once she looked older, and all those years of traumatic living were expressed in her eyes. Even her old facial scar she hated was unseen. Lifting up her face, she kissed him tenderly, knowing he still cared deeply for her, and was still upset at not being able to be more than a friend to him, as he desired.

Still holding him close, she softly murmured, 'Robert, I do sincerely hope one day you will find a complete new love of your own, and have the family you want to enjoy your life with. You also deserve that. You are a very loving man and you need someone to love and care for as much as I do. Out there is someone for us both, and it is important we must both find those missing links.'

Holding her tears back and kissing him once more, she left the room without looking back in case she changed her mind. She was leaving a part of her 'deep inner soul' with him which she would never regret. In years to come, maybe the memories of that first terrible part of her life she had first gone through would finally fade from her mind.

Her choices made, she took time to pack and finalise her duties with her photographic work and singing. When making enquiries earlier, Patches found out that Father Nickolas had moved a few years ago to a larger island, known as San Christobal in the Solomon Island Group, further out in the Pacific. Next she arranged to fly across the ocean to those islands and hopefully live the different way for which she yearned. Searching in the library before leaving, she found that the name of San Cristobal had been changed over time by the whalers.

Now it is known as Makira, though in some maps the name of San Cristobal was retained. She read that the original natives of the island were Melanesians, but back in the earlier century they were cannibals. For this reason the Missionaries refused to go there after two of their ministers were killed and eaten. This fact surprised her as she assumed that cannibalism had been stamped out years ago. _Gosh_ , she thought, _I hope the natives these days are more civilised and friendlier to the Missionaries now._ She didn't fancy being the main course in a meal, chuckling, while thinking she'd tell them, 'There's not much meat on me you guys.' This silly thought drew a laugh from her, the first time she had felt like laughing for months.

When reading the tropical rainforest was full of wonderful birds, snakes and crocodiles which inhabit the inland waters, Patches had never seen those last mentioned creatures, and hoped not to while over there. In the pictures they looked hideous and frightening. She needed a complete change in her life, and running into crocodiles and snakes was not going to be part of that change. The very thought horrified her. Her mind was full of visions of blue sea washing onto creamy sands, with the sounds of breezes and waves in the background.

Perhaps she was living in a dream world and needed to verify this. Father Nickolas was still working in the villages with the Islanders as usual, so she was able to contact him by mail, telling him of her intentions to visit if he so agreed, which to her surprise, he did. Landing on the main nearby island in Honiara, she took a boat across the Straits to the island, travelling by road to the Magura village. This was nearer to Makira on the north-eastern side of the small mountain range to where she was heading. She noticed that the entire area was full of tropical forests and coastal scenery. It was all certainly beautiful near the coast and the winds kept everything cool, so she had packed what she hoped was suitable clothing to take with her to an tropical island. Light cotton dresses in pastels, one, a pretty blue dress, some long slacks, short sleeved blouses and a few plain coloured skirts and sandals. That should do, she decided, I doubt if anyone ever dresses up over there. When getting ready for the trip, she wore mid length green pants with a short, light green jacket over a white cotton sleeveless top, and arrived late in the afternoon.

A little tired and weary, she could feel the heat wash over her. Thankfully she found the Missionary Father Nickolas Morakai waiting, and coming over to him where he stood near the land cruiser, he gave her a very 'un-priestly' hug when greeting her.

'How wonderful to see you again Patchula,' but she corrected him. 'Father, my name is still as it was before, just Patches now. Patchula is only my business name, or just used for special occasions.'

He smiled at her remarks. 'Well Patches, or Patchula, You are a welcome vision here, like a patch of sunlight. I am so delighted and happy to see you come back to us alive. When you and John left that day, I worried you would never reach a ship, and really thought that both of you may have perished on the way.'

He was laughing now. 'But here you are, and definitely not a ghost. That is a relief! Besides I do not really believe in the myth of ghosts, madam Patches. Please call me Nickolas as we agreed to, many years back.'

All the time he spoke, Patches stood there eyeing him over, realising he is still a fine looking man for a Minister. She remembered how generous and understanding he had been to them in the short time they all had stayed in his village. Returning his hug while holding him close, she noticed his light olive skin smelled slightly of coconut oil, and his thick dark hair curled in around the nape of his neck. Then she saw the twinkle in his eyes as if suddenly he guessed her thoughts. It seemed that he did have a sense of humour as well, and she was pleased, smiling to herself at the idea.

'Well Father Nickolas,' she began, but he interrupted, 'No, just Nickolas please. I dispense with the formal title in private, if we are to be friends,' and she too agreed with that, deciding not to say any more yet, but touched his hand gently, enjoying the feel of its warmth.

He carried her bags as they walked across to his quarters not far from the beach, where the water looked so blue and cool as. Then sitting on cane chairs on the veranda under the palm leaf roof they were served a cool drink which his man had put on the table. Patches leaned her head back on the chair, just relishing the peace and his presence. Somehow it felt so right her being here with this man Father Nickolas, who seemed to be familiar but never a stranger. Just knowing he was there now gave her a feeling of companionship, and she was instantly happy. It was a hot and sticky evening so they drank with enjoyment.

While resting back in the chair looking down towards the beach, she had a sudden thought. Without a word she stood up, impetuously pulling off her jacket and shoes, and quickly ran down the steps towards the water which glistened and beckoned to her with its turquoise and white wavelets curling onto the beach. Rushing into the water, clothes and all, she fell into the wonderful cool, blue ocean, and laughing she called out to him across the sandy beach.

'Come on and join me Nickolas, this is heaven. It is truly wonderful, and so deliciously cool!' Her giggling was inviting and definitely cheeky.

Completely startled at her actions, he burst out into hearty laughter, but walked down from the veranda to join her on the edge of the sea. Kicking off his sandals and lifting his cassock up higher, he splashed around in the shallows close by with bare feet, watching her enjoy the wonder of the cold salt water around her body. It did not matter to her that her clothes were sopping wet, she was so thrilled to have the freedom of just being able to do this and enjoy it.

'Do you remember Nickolas,' she asked. 'That very first evening, when the men and I all turned up here at your village, after we'd escaped from the Japanese soldiers. This was the one thing we all did to cool and clean ourselves then.'

'Of course I do,' he replied. One could not forget such an event!' Nickolas chuckled at the memory.

Seeing a group of very dirty bedraggled people who appeared out of the jungle, and then to his astonishment, noticing a woman with them who immediately rushed down into the sea. Patches grinned at him while splashing water onto his legs not worried at all about wetting his cassock. This was fun! He stared at her, thinking how lovely she looked in the sun with her wet hair, water running down her face and silky olive skin, her brown eyes shining. He even noticed the way the wet clothes clung to her slim body. Abruptly, he sternly told himself, _Nickolas this is not the way I should think of female visitors,_ but these thoughts persisted even after they walked back towards the hut.

Holding her wet hand he escorted her up the steps smiling to himself at his thoughts. After all, she could not read his mind and that was a blessed relief. Then she turned, giving him an odd look, almost knowing, which worried him at the time. Why did she do that? _Surely, she did not have any psychic abilities? Impossible,_ he told himself, though his skin prickled at the idea! After they returned to his quaint wooden veranda, Patches attempted to dry herself in the late warmth of the sun.

Looking across at her, Nickolas said, 'Patches, No, I am going to call you Patchula for now until I decide which is the 'more' you. There is a nearby cottage you can have for as long as you need it, so my man will carry your bags over there. When you have cleaned up and rested, please come back here for dinner this evening.'

She flashed him a thankful smile, her white teeth gleaming against the contrast of her red lips and light olive skin, and she walked down the steps over to the cottage calling out, 'I will see you later, and thank you Nickolas. I think we will be good friends,' whispering to herself _I hope perhaps, maybe more one day._

Later on after dinner as they sat having a light wine, he talked about his work and his life here. She decided in her mind she would only tell him the barest details of her own turbulent life, until the right time when, or if ever that time arrived. Whether she would reveal all of it, she did not know right then. There were some really bad memories, which she had no desire to recall or have him know. Would he understand the terror she suffered as a prostitute, and later when assaulted by those men. He was a man of God, who lived so differently to her, and these experiences would be disturbing, even revolting to him. His opinion of her might change if he heard all the details of everything that had happened to her over the years, but she hoped it would not. She was so different now as was everything else in those days. Wishing him goodnight she blew him a kiss, and left the room to go to her cabin and have a good night rest without any worries, but his kindness and personality never left her mind until she drifted off to sleep.

He just sat there, her face still in his mind. She had a deep inner beauty he decided, and it glowed from within her eyes and presence. Nickolas strangely felt the beginnings of little tremors in his heart he had never sensed before, and they troubled him. Would his lord God understand these feelings?

This was to be the beginning of a new rewarding life for Patches. During the next few months, she attended the sessions Father Nickolas gave to the villagers, and those in the little church. Finding out that the natives there called him Father Nick as he was truly loved by all, and that he held teaching classes in the church for the children, which she found were interesting. She wondered, there must be something she could do here, and right now so she asked.

'Is there any way I can help you with schooling the children Nickolas?'

'I can usually manage myself for now. Maybe later on, I might need some assistance with the older children, thank you, young lady.'

Patches had to smile to herself at his addressing her as a young lady at her age, but was flattered! A tiny warm feeling curled around her heart as she said, 'I noticed there does not seem to be a school here?'

Nickolas answered her question, 'No, we have not been lucky enough to have a school as yet! The church does not have that sort of finance. One manages with what one has.'

### CHAPTER 16

#### REVEALING NEEDS

One day when he was speaking about his work, she noticed how his eyes lit up, which called her attention to his face. His cheeks were a pale olive and his skin very smooth, his brows defined but thick. It was his lips which suddenly looked tempting enough to kiss. Pulling herself together and reprimanded her thinking, not believing she could even consider that, though enjoying the thought. Other than Robert, she had never wanted to kiss another man in a romantic way before. Besides, she had to tell herself, Nickolas was a Minister of the church. Should she dare to have such thoughts about him? She did not want to overstep the boundaries he may keep.

She soon realised the only topic they had never discussed was regarding his family, which he seemed reticent to speak about. She knew nothing at all about him and it felt like a mystery, but then her life was a mystery to him too. Soon, one day she would ask him to confide in her if he was willing. In his home when being close to him, she could sense his presence when sitting nearby, and that gave her such nice vibes. His personality was strong and he made known his deep feelings about his work here for God and the church, yet he did not force them onto her. One evening a few months later, they sat down on the sand near the water's edge, hearing the little waves slapping on the beach, watching the beautiful sunset with its shadows of dark pink fluctuated with the paler blue streaks of sky and wispy clouds. The silver moon rose into the velvety sky, which finished the picture for her. The entire scene was so impressive making her aware of how lucky she was to be here.

'This is quite beautiful here', she said, and turning towards him she wriggled her bottom in the sand to make herself comfortable, then faced him. 'Nickolas, there is something I need to know, and please do not take offence'. Waiting a minute, she asked, 'Would you mind if I offered some financial help for the many projects I have in mind for your island?'

Startled at her unexpected remark, he looked across at her, his eyebrows raised in surprise, but with some curiosity showing in his eyes. What was she talking about? Then seeing the look on her face, he felt a sudden pull of emotion stealing into his heart. Leaning over, he softly touched her hand before replying.

'What exactly did you have in mind Patchula, and what do you intend to accomplish my dear? Besides, how in heavens can you do anything at all, when any type of project costs so much money to accomplish over here on this island.'

This was a leading question and asked at the right time, so she was so pleased. With her mind at peace as he spoke, she looked across into his eyes. 'Nickolas, there is something I have not told you which is very important. It is about my first parents who adopted me as a child and died in Australia many years ago. I was recently informed they left me quite a large amount of money,' she said. 'It was just a while back that I found out about this, and it has been handed to me after being in trust for a very long time. They died when I was nearly twelve but had previously provided for me after my adoption.'

As she continued, an intrigued expression showed in his eyes when hearing these words. 'Then shortly after hearing that astounding news, I accidently found my Father, a wonderful man who was also a photographer a long way back. He lived in America, and after we met and saw each other for many months he became ill and passed away. I will tell you more about him another time but not now. However he too left me a good inheritance as well, so I have been extremely lucky and ever so thankful for all of that. For the first time in my life I actually have the money and substantial finance to accomplish any or all of my endeavours.'

'Just a minute, my dear Patches! All this has only happened to you recently and within a short time?' he asked, leaning over towards her, astounded at her words. 'Yes! You see I want to put this money to good use here if you agree.'

'There is so much I can do and accomplish on this island. Useful projects which are really needed and worthwhile. The money is in a trust but available whenever I need it. When I have decided what I can do, I will ask your permission and consult with you about everything before I go ahead. But know this Nickolas, these are some projects I really want to do, and intend to complete.'

While listening to her long statement, his expression changed from wonder to complete astonishment at her words. He was speechless, dazed at her willingness to be so generous. Her whole idea was so breathtaking, and he knew anything to help him in his work here would be a blessing. But for her to want to give so much to this island, and its people was not only unbelievable, but a miracle. Nickolas was lost for words. When she had finished speaking, he looked at this lovely woman who had come from America to tell him her plans for his island, and he could see the intense interest in her expression.

Taking hold of both her hands he turned them over, kissed her palms and closed his hand over hers. Instantly she could feel the warmth of his presence beside her and his vitality, and she trembled as her nerves reacted to his tender touching. Then he spoke.

'You, young lady never cease to amaze me. I am overwhelmed at your forthright ideas and generosity,' he uttered, but also to himself, thank you God. 'My sweet Patchula, you are indeed a blessing,' and he opened up her hands kissing each one again.

'There, hold that there until I tell you to wash it off'.' at which she giggled a bit, though her heart beat a lot faster when she felt the blood rushing through her body. This honest but intriguing man was having a decided effect on her, and she was not certain if she was ready for this yet. It was definitely too soon.

_Why just now?_ she wondered, but asked, 'Is that an appropriate gesture for a Minister to be doing?' and he smiled back, replying with a cute twinkle in his eye.

'Perhaps one day this Minister may surprise you, my dear. Now we had better go up and each have a good rest for the night, as much has occurred here tonight,' saying that as he stood up pulling her up to her feet to stand close to him.

Kissing her forehead, he brushed his skin near to hers and she was so aware of him, she trembled inwardly. For a minute she remembered her scar, which though faded, was still there, hoping he could not see it. _Why did I do that? I will have to pull myself together, and remember he is a Minister of the Church,_ she decided.

This was the first time for many years since forming an attachment for Robert, that she had feelings inside of herself at a man's touch and presence. She decided then that he was not only a truly warm and lovable person, but also, very much a man with genuine feelings. This Christian minister was so different to other men she had met, and she wondered if his religion allowed him to have any emotional attachments with women. Then if not, she would have to be careful of hers when being with him. She stood there quietly with a solemn look in her eyes before slowly walking back to her cottage, feeling her heart warmed by his words and touch, and she felt so happy.

That night when lying on her bed, her mind buzzed with thoughts which she decided, were not entirely permitted in the circumstances, and she had to rein herself in, not wishing Nickolas to notice them. Now at peace with God and herself, she breathed words of thanks from the bottom of her heart. God is good to me, she thought. Do I deserve to even find such a man as he is? Never before had she allowed anyone to get behind the wall she had built around her heart, and now she knows the wall is beginning to crumble.

She went back over the lovely but surprising words Nickolas had spoken. She could still feel his touch and kiss on her hands and her forehead, and with those memories she began to realise how much he was beginning to mean to her. Perhaps it was too soon, but in her heart she hoped not. Destiny or the power of God had called her here, and who was she to deny this.

A few days later when asking him to sit and listen, she told him the whole story about her father, the history of where she had been born, and about her mother. Then the sad death of her father a year later, a short while after she had found him. The fact that her Father had been a photographer, as she is now, made her realize what her heart was showing her. Everything meant to happen was occurring, and it all felt just right coming to finality here.

This had to be the reason she was gifted the money she'd inherited. To use it for whatever was important but really necessary, and she had no doubts about her determination to carry this out and to fulfil her dreams for this island. Nickolas had listened to her long and extraordinary story with a strong inner belief that his instincts were telling him something. This remarkable young woman who had travelled so far, was meant to be here with him, he was sure of that. In his own way God was pointing him in that direction, and it was one he was now considering.

Never before had Nickolas been interested in a woman, as his call to the church and God had occupied his entire life up till this moment. This vital lady Patches, was a surprise package. Versatile, beautiful, resolute, energetic but unlike any other woman he had met before. She had intrigued him from the very first meeting years back, but then he thought she had died. But here she is, with a great determination to accomplish all she could to help his village and island.

He knew miracles do happen which this appears to be. Nickolas no longer questioned what God was showing him, but accepted the wisdom of what had eventuated here, and he was thankful for whatever might occur in the future. The next day when Nickolas had finished his duties, they sat on his small veranda to have a cup of tea, and Patches detailed her plans to him explaining all she hoped to achieve with his help and advice,

'First, before I tell you about everything I have decided to complete, the constructions and changes, please understand this means so much to me. I want to be allowed to build a school for the children, later adding a senior one for adults to learn a trade or the Ministry, or whatever else they so choose to do. Then if the land is available, we will build a small hospital with several staff rooms and if necessary, some for the teachers, if given permission by the local authorities. The staff could be recruited from overseas until we can find someone local, who already is qualified, or who could be trained.'

Looking at him she paused for a breath, and waited to hear his comments. He just sat there listening, questions flooding into his mind, but he said nothing, just waited for her to finish.

'Later on there will be an orphanage built for children, and for those who could be adopted. Maybe I could situate this building on the other island where there are more facilities for living, and of course that depends on the local government. My main desire is for a large Research Centre to be installed when the other buildings are completed, and this would probably be constructed on the Mainland,' moving her hands to show him what she meant. 'This Centre is for the discovery and treatments for tropical diseases in these countries, which is able to in some way medically help those poor children or adults with abnormal growths on their faces and bodies. I guess that should do for now.'

Suddenly she felt his hand cover her mouth to stop her speaking. It seemed as though it was too much for him to take in all at once. He was completely staggered, shaking his head in disbelief. Removing his hand from her mouth, Nickolas sat there after listening to her desires for the future of this island, his normally steady mind dumbfounded by her optimistic plans. It all was as though she felt driven to carry out these plans, and he wondered as a simple Minister of his faith, how was it possible for her to accomplish all of them? If she was able to finish everything, it would take many years, and it felt much too incredible for him to accept.

Now he realised she was so unwavering in her desire to complete what was in her mind, regardless of whatever it took or what lay ahead. Had she considered any of the stumbling blocks which might arise? He could not believe that this forthright, attractive young woman really wanted so much to improve the living of the inhabitants of his island and the people. Carrying all her plans out without a doubt as to her ability to do so, and without any concern at all about the enormous costs. He doubted if this had even entered her mind, and wondered if she had even estimated the tremendous expenses involved with this venture, or with everything she wanted to accomplish?

Nickolas got to his feet, his mind numb, as he paced around before sitting down once more, while she waited looking puzzled. He stared at her sitting there patiently waiting, then asked, 'Patches my dear, have you even considered all the pro's and con's of these amazing ventures, my dear?'

'Why worry Nickolas,' she said cheerfully. 'I have all the money I need, and am impatient to do this. It has been my dream for a long while, and I am ready and able to go ahead and see the results of my visions. The last two years I have waited impatiently, and do not intend to wait any longer! What do you say sir' to my ideas,' she asked, with a jaunty but amused smile.

Nickolas was lost for words, and just sat quietly just numb. What could he say? She took his silence as his agreement, and felt delighted. Her eyes lit up as she leaned over to give him a quick kiss on the cheek, feeling a little bold at her actions.

During the next few days, without wasting time and with his approval, she began to hasten the procedures, setting about her ideas and plans. Contacting the Government by mail, the main centre which controlled this island, she wrote to the necessary lawyers and leaders in the community. In her letters, she suggested they all meet over here to discuss these ideas, and waited for their reply. Knowing it would take time, she was unwilling to be patient, but had this incredible urge to get everything moving. Always ready, Nickolas had decided to help her as much as possible. After informing the main church notables of her plans, he would later appeal to them for extra staff to assist him when some buildings were finished. He realised if any Church leaders were to come over here, they would most likely want to see these new structures for themselves, and check this situation out. Naturally they would wait until the buildings were completed before coming across to the islands to inspect everything.

He too wrote some letters. Every evening, they would sit down after dinner to discuss all those ideas and how it was proceeding. He watched her as she wrote, and though still surprised at her zeal, he would try to halt the flow of her words, by interrupting every now and then.

'Patchula, please slow down! You exhaust me with your endeavours. You must take it easy, or you will wear yourself out.'

She would shake her head in response, stop for a minute then begin again with more suggestions, drawing plans on paper. Even sometimes down on the beach, she used her fingers to draw pictures in the sand, as her enthusiasm was boundless. It was obvious she was filled with an urgent desire to go full steam ahead, and nothing could stop her. The first main decision and one of the most important requirements, was to ensure a good water supply to cater for all of their needs. The village only had one shallow well, sufficient just for the amount of natives living here.

Nickolas had once reminded her, 'You realise that all these buildings will require a lot of water, as will the workers and staff who are to live here. So finding a good supply right now is really essential.'

Agreeing with him she made enquiries, and found that it was necessary to have two bores put down. Investigating the nearby islands she found a geologist who came out and tested land around, looking for suitable places for bores to be drilled. A group of men arrived, and accompanied by Nickolas and Patches they walked further inland to the tropical rainforest, looking at the areas where the geologist had suggested. These should verify his tests on the land. Taking a bench with them, Nickolas and Patches sat down for some time, both watching and waiting patiently for the results. The sun was hot and the air pretty steamy, so it was a relief when the men found what they were searching for.

The surveyor returned to tell them, 'A spring has been found not far from a running creek, but there are two places where bores are showing a good rate of water per hour, and could be put down.' he said, 'Yes, there are good streams over there,' pointing to a place a dozen metres away, 'and here,' waving his hand to a distant place. 'The water is clean and should provide you with an excellent supply.'

Very excited, Patches stood up and called out 'Oh my goodness, Nickolas how wonderful. We are so lucky.'

Thrilled at the news and ignoring the men, she clapped her hands then danced on the spot around Nickolas, hanging on to his waist attempting to swing him around also. He was startled, though he chuckled at her antics.

'Heavens, Patches! I am not a dancer as such yet. Remember, I am the local preacher, who should not behave this way.' referring to the grinning men watching her as she frolicked around.

He was greatly amused at her reactions and pleased at the success of the survey, but wondered what the men there were thinking of her unusual response. Regardless, they all seemed to be smiling at her obvious joy of the results. Patches and Nickolas were so relieved at the findings, realizing that water would no longer be a problem, as there seemed to be plenty and not very deep down in the ground. That meant easier digging for the machines bought there. First these bores had to be approved and drilled as soon as possible.

The men and the equipment were to arrive by a boat, but the drill was so large, a barge was being used to bring it over here. There was a bit of trouble getting the drill off the barge onto the firm sand, which made her think of something else very necessary to her plans, which she suggested.

'Nickolas we have to construct a strong structure, like a ramp but not a jetty, with enough room on it for all this equipment to be unloaded.' and he agreed that it was indeed a sensible suggestion.

First the men set to work about a hundred metres into the forest, being careful that the testing done by the drilling was to find fresh water, not salty. Within two weeks, the news came back that two good bores were found which would cater to them for years. Two large 60,000 gall cement tanks were each completed and established near the bores which proved to have an excellent source of fresh water. This was such a relief and now she could proceed with her other plans.

Not realizing at first how many details there were to attend to, her mind buzzed with everything that had to be accomplished, particularly the strong wooden ramp to be used for unloading all the equipment and goods from barges. Every day she immersed herself in a variety of paper work and business calls, not resting, until one evening, the tall form of Nickolas quietly entered her cottage where she was going over papers. Taking her hand, he led her to the cane lounge to sit her down beside him, and make her listen to his words.

'Patchula my dear,' he said, 'You must try not to work so hard. Just hear me out. You are going at this pace 'hell for leather', and if you don't watch yourself, you will end up ill. You are too important to me for that to happen.'

Speaking thus he held both of her hands gazing across into those beautiful, deep brown eyes, and in spite of himself, he knew in his heart that she was the only woman for him to have and hold if she would agree. Sitting there, Patches finally relaxed her mind quietly listening to him speaking, and suddenly the strong feelings she felt for this wonderful man overwhelmed her heart. Without any misgivings she leaned across towards him, and with no hesitation held his face in her firm hands and kissed him deeply on his mouth. Her love flowed out in tremulous depths of emotion, and she was instantly delighted he did not refuse her advances. Kissing her back immediately, his heart raced with the incredible love which filled his mind and body. This is surely meant to be, and God was on their side.

Holding her close to him he stroked her hair whispering in her ear, 'Oh my special lady Patchula, how much time and months we have wasted. But not much longer as we need to be together. This is so right my dearest.'

Lifting her face to his, she smothered him with kisses, the scent of his skin filling her nostrils and all through her body. Now for the first time in her life, she felt an insistent urge for a physical union with this man. Never before, in any of her previous years had this ever occurred to her, or felt an emotion like this. It swept through her senses so powerfully it was almost beyond her to control this reaction.

'Oh Nickolas, what you are doing to me? Do not let me go! I need you so much my darling,' she whispered, touching him, wanting to do more, though knowing she wouldn't, not just yet.

She turned towards him leaning into his arms, enjoying the physical closeness of his body, hearing his heart beating in his chest, not wanting to move at all. As his strong arms encircled her, he could feel her softness through the clothing she wore, and this stimulated a long dormant desire in his own flesh. The sexual responsive he was conscious of was very unusual for him, almost non-existent, but it stirred a strong reaction which he had to instantly curb. He wanted to have her for his wife and was so sure about this, never having felt this way for any other woman. Now he needed to know if she would marry him, but did not wish to force the issue with all the things she had on her mind. Now, the sooner they were wed the better!

His heart overflowed with a deep love for her which filled his entire being. His senses were so stirred they were almost uncontrollable, so he quickly stemmed the flow of physical reaction in his body. Deeply sensing his feelings and hers, she felt so elated and thanked God for this giving her this wonderful, blessed love. Right away she began to ease up on the building plans, because recently her energy had felt depleted, and she was a little tired and worn out. Normally full of drive, but she realised Nickolas was right in what he had said about her. He knew once the building commenced they would not have any time for themselves. A decision had to be made and soon, but just now he said nothing.

She knew the construction work had to be well on the way before the tropical 'Wet' started later on in the season, as then very little would be accomplished. For once, work would have to take a backseat in her life, and this was an unheard of concept. She needed time to just enjoy breathing in the fresh air and taking in the scenery, as her mind needed a break from details and plans. At her present age, she realised that life was there for there for the taking if she made the right decisions. Now she could, with his acceptance and guidance. Finding such a complete love which consumed her heart, was something which needed to be cherished and felt, not pushed aside, it was too precious.

For a change and often in the early mornings, she would frequently take a canoe, paddle slowly out into the bay and gaze down at the underwater reef, thinking how beautiful the turquoise waters were with the many fish swimming around the area. It was so relaxing. She started taking her camera with her to photograph the special places of the island. The jagged rocks and scenery around the bay, the constant waves dashing up onto the reef and the beach; red tipped clouds in the sky at sunrise, and the beautiful sunsets. Plus seeing the constant bird life and listening to their sounds which filled the air here and around the sides of the island shores, and beaches. There was so much more to the beauty of this wonderful place where she lives. For a long time she had been too busy with other important plans, but never entirely had she given up her delight in photography as a hobby.

Deciding now she'd keep the photos she developed herself, and put them into an album for the future. They would be there with many more she had taken since being on the island, and when walking along some of the bush tracks. One thing she always did was to be careful and watch out for venomous snakes prevalent in different areas, as villagers had been bitten by them before. Also she wanted to find and photograph the many coloured birds living in the rainforest trees. The beaches and inland jungles were so peaceful now, but that would soon be changed when the huge construction work began.

With the gifts of blue ocean waters, golden sands and the tropical coconut palms along the edge of the waters, these all created such beautiful scenery. Soon she hoped to start a journal on everything that was happening each day, which in time would be there for her and be read by any descendants. This was quite an assumption she knew, looking that far ahead, but one never knows what the future holds.

These moments of peace were so enjoyable, especially when slipping out of the canoe close to the shore to have a swim. Often she'd call out loudly to Nickolas from the water asking him to join her if he was near the beach, or not taking a service in the Church teaching the children.

If or when he heard her voice calling, 'Come on Nickolas. Change and come and have a break with me,' he'd wave back, change his clothing and soon join her in the water.

These hours were priceless to them both, as they romped around laughing and splashing water on each other. Both were strong swimmers, and they would go so far out into the bay then return to the beach, sometimes trying to outrace each other, laughing as they did this. Sitting on the wet and sandy beach, they both felt so contented and happy, appreciating how lucky they were and that it was so good to be alive. Often while completing the official papers she would pause to think, realizing her feelings for Nickolas had increased so much, and she wondered _Is it possible for her to love someone as intensely as she loves him?_

She felt his love was deep and would go on for eternity as would hers, and because this was her first real love, it was more than special. They would sit together outside after dinner in the evenings, with the cool air drifting in from the ocean, discussing the progress of all the work, while relaxing in the chairs having a glass of wine. Sometimes they would not speak, just enjoy each other's company with their hands touching, their thoughts combining while leaning close together. The peace and the blessing of their love surrounded them, with both aware of each other feelings, their eyes often meeting in the evening light. She'd flash a shy half smile at him, and he returned this, the joy lighting up their faces as contentment reigned. Sensing how much her body needed his love, and his deep feelings for her often showed, he would stand up, and walk away just to control his desires, which he had decided that a Minister should not permit himself unless being with his wife.

### CHAPTER 17

#### FOLLOWING HER HEART

One evening a few weeks later, after dinner when the time seemed right, he quietly gazed at her sitting there leaning back in the chair with her eyes closed. This time he felt bold enough to make a suggestion to her in his soft voice, and he touched her hand turning it over in his.

'Hey you, my beautiful lady!' He waited a minute until his voice had registered with her, and she opened her eyes. 'Would you consider becoming a Ministers wife, and fill his heart and your life with all the love he has for you? Patchula - you have one minute to answer, and it had better be yes,' he demanded in a stern voice, trying not to smile.

Opening her eyes she giggled, a cheeky grin on her face while smiling at his question. Looking up at this man who was destined to be so important in her life, she quietly replied, 'My goodness, you are in a hurry?'

For a minute she had the impish thought of teasing him and letting him wait, thinking she was not certain of her answer. A few seconds later when seeing him look worried, she could not contain herself and with a wicked chuckle she remarked, 'Why, yes, yes, yes, of course dear Nickolas. Tell me, is the minute up yet? Have I kept you waiting sir?'

At her cheeky retort they both laughed as she continued, 'My darling, you are the one I have really wanted for a long time and was sure about this months ago, but particularly now. Too long I have known that our love is special and should be shared, so whenever you wish, we can be married as soon as possible.' Then looking serious she quickly added, 'What about tomorrow, man!' Smiling at his bemused expression when hearing her comment, she whispered, 'Don't you think I meant that?' and her eyes shone with delight as she leaned back in the chair almost laughing.

'Are you teasing me?' he asked, not at all sure whether she was or not as sometimes she would.

'No, no Nickolas. I am really serious. The sooner we are together the better. I desire you to be in my life, heart and more. Also I will tell you something, and it is very important to us both. Please remember, this is something you must be aware of, that for certain reasons I have not mentioned before I cannot bear children. If you can truly accept that reality, I am sure we could find some orphans who want to be loved within a family. Perhaps we could adopt them later on if you agree that is O.K.' I have to know this.'

This was such an unexpected statement, but he gazed at her knowing she was serious then answered.

'No words are needed my precious lady. Whatever you suggest, I am yours. Anything you ask will be granted, that is, within reason, my dear.' then he laughed. 'Of course I will not attempt any criminal activities, robbing banks, or life and death pursuits at any time. Afraid I'm too sober for that.'

This was such an idiotic comment for him to make, it even caused Patches to laugh, so much so the tears ran down her face. 'My goodness Nickolas, I know you are not joking about those activities? Heavens, I only wish to live a quiet life now.' she replied laughing.

He ignored her last comment and they hugged each other, as he was not worried about those first personal details she insisted on. However he happily agreed with her, without really knowing why she was unable to have children. No doubt he decided, in time she would tell him.

'What about we wed in three weeks,' he asked her, and thinking ahead to her work plans she agreed.

'Yes Mr Minister, I will jot' that date down into my busy diary sir. I guess I could throw together a dress made of banana or palm leaves or similar,' she said seriously, hiding a little grin.

'That is settled then my dear Patches, regardless of what you wear, though banana leaves would be cool and economical,' and saying this, he chuckled out loud at the ridiculous idea of Patches turning up in church dressed in banana leaves. No doubt if dared to, he knew she would.

Then she reminded him. 'Please remember Nickolas my name on the wedding certificate is to be Patchula, not Patches. I do think my present name would cause some sort of problems with the Church, don't you?' she asked noticing his smile.

It was settled, that in two weeks they would announce their wedding plans to the Church, and afterwards to the islanders or any necessary people. Then they'd go ahead with the arrangements for a simple ceremony the following week, as because of the wonderful love the villagers showed him, they knew the parishioners would be so happy for them. Aware that Patches was already his choice, they were all pleased and most guessed these two would be together soon.

She decided not to divulge to him her traumatic time in the brothel, or the subsequent assault, until she felt he could handle this dreadful personal information. Perhaps never! These would be best forgotten. He was a good man, but she did not know what his thoughts would be on those awful events in her previous life. Even though everything that had happened then was not her fault, it had killed her belief in men where she detested and loathed them for many years up till now, other than Robert who saved her life. Since meeting Nickolas these hostile feelings had vanished, as peace now filled her heart. The bitterness she felt against men slowly evaporated away, overturned with her intense love for this special man. God had brought her here for a reason those many years back during the war, and led her here again to achieve their destinies. These thoughts filled her with a deep contentment as this intense love for Nickolas has altered her life completely.

When the Officials had come to the island earlier to discuss her building plans which are allowed to go ahead, there were certain small financial payments having to be made to them, plus a necessary Government fee.

'Why is this extra fee so necessary or important?' she asked when speaking to them.

One gentleman, a Mr Van Genderon who seemed to be in charge, frowned at this remark. 'Miss Montarro, this is a standard fee which my office expects from anyone who intends to build or make alterations to a building. It is a fixed Government amount and legally has to be paid.' After his rebuke, she quietly nodded her head and said no more.

Once all the building plans were finalised, the workers came over to begin the ground work, and temporary rooms for them to live in were built near the village. Any useable land was a good distance back from the ocean, so the foundations are finally laid down. Building supplies were shipped over by barge and the timber for the support beams and ceilings of the building were measured out, and very quickly the walls were up. Patches would go there every day, to watch and check that everything was being built according to her orders and council requirements. She did however insist on some slightly different ideas.

'Two of the main side walls are to be made of tall, wide sections of narrow 'floor to ceiling rust-proof metal 'louvres', which can be opened to allow the coastal breezes to enter the whole building and cool the rooms. I had seen these in Darwin many years ago, and it is a good idea,' she told the builders who had never heard of this.

The fact that these narrow metal 'louvres' had never been seen on these islands did not make a bit of difference, and they agreed to it. Everyone could see the advantage of these buildings, and the villagers would gather around watching from a distance, very excited and talking happily about these new ventures. All looked forward to the completion of the first ones and the children were thrilled knowing a new school was to be built soon for them, such an unknown blessing.

When telling Nickolas about these ideas, she said, 'The plans we've made are, that at one end of the settlement, the combined schools would be situated, then not far away the small Hospital and the staff rooms. Do you consider that is enough, or should we build more. What do you think about that idea Nickolas?'

Pleased at these suggestions, he agreed, 'All of this is good and sensible. I notice that you are still having the Research Facility and Orphanage erected on the Mainland. Why so far away over there, my dear?' he asked her though satisfied at those ideas.

'Don't you realise why, because over on those islands we should be able to find more modern trained staff, which you know are necessary Nickolas. Where else close to this island could these be found, when they are required? We can always look further afield later on. But for now we will go and look, and find whatever or whoever is available.'

After this conversation she thought for a while, her mind going over all the details of what had happened recently, and that night, she spoke to God. Thanking him for everything she had received and especially for the wonderful love Nickolas showed he felt for her. Thinking back to years ago when leaving the Hospital, where she had been so ill after the terrible assault, she had looked for and read some important legal papers which were true. She was shocked when finding out that the intimate things Andrew her foster father had done to her to make her feel loved, were actually very wrong. They were almost seen as being incestuous, a word she had not heard of then. If he had legally adopted her, it would have been incest, particularly if he had continued on that way with her, very aware of her ignorance of it all. She knew those early experiences would never be revealed to anyone, and only she and God would ever know about that. The whole experience had since festered in her like a disease eating at her mind.

As details of the word sex in any way had never been explained to her by Lana, Andrew's wife, Patches avoided thinking what the young girl at school told about sex after Andrew had died. However after that, there was the time of those awful sexual experiences forced on her in the brothel. She only consented to having sex with Robert her friend because of the necessary help he gave her to get away from there. That help she desperately needed then, but now that was in the past and she had to forget them.

Very soon she would have to understand and accept her marriage vows, and learn what it all meant in every way including the intimate details. There was so much she did not know, and having this wonderful love in her life, anything new would be accepted with the true love Nickolas was offering her. Patches no longer feared what lay ahead, but hoped that this new love combined would help her on the nights after her wedding. The thought of it made her tremble a little with trepidation, but she had to trust in their love to guide her when the time arrived.

She often wondered if Nickolas had ever felt anything for a woman before now and wanted to ask him, but felt too shy. Never had she spoken to any man or woman about a woman's intimate details and needs, knowing everything she experienced at the brothel was not a normal situation, and very wrong where she had been concerned. Everything had changed when love had entered her life and nothing else would take priority over that blessed event.

Nickolas only had to be near her, look at her, or touch her hand, and she would be swept away with a tide of emotion that filled her heart and body. Continually she thanked God, who in his wisdom had shown her the way to this incredible man, living way out here on this island. A God who given her the opportunity to find, love and accept this person, and be grateful for this wonderful blessing. Never before in her life had she accepted this strong belief in God, even when going to the convent and speaking with the Reverend Mother. There was only a belief as a little girl when being with the Missionaries, and that was so far back in her earlier life. It was easily forgotten in the intense pain of her adopted parents death, then when leaving Australia. Now this belief is stronger than it was then.

Before the wedding, Nickolas and Patches travelled to the mainland to have many discussions with the council there about all the intended buildings, and they were delighted with her ideas. Knowing these would be enormous assets to the town when constructed, particularly the Research Centre, as it would attract enormous medical interest from overseas. Not much is known over there about tropical diseases and cures, other than for Malaria. Certain mosquitoes carried the germs for more infections, as do many of new people coming onto the islands. The whole island was full of anticipation, all eagerly discussing the wonderful constructions beginning soon, and the benefits which would result from them.

Now preparing for their wedding back on their island, Nickolas had asked a Missionary whom he knew from a larger nearby island, to come there to carry out the ceremony. All the villagers were full of anticipation, making ready for a big celebration dance and feasting for their Minister who was so loved in the village. They all approved of his bride Patches, as she still insists on being called by everyone else, and after all arrangements were completed, their special day had arrived. The church was decorated by the congregation with Frangipani and striking Bird of Paradise flowers, and everyone packed into the building to be able to see and hear everything. The excitement in the Church was so intense, with all the whispering and murmurings filling the audience.

Soon Patches walked into the church looking simply lovely, dressed in a pretty, cream embroidered cotton dress, which contrasted with her pale olive skin. A circle of white Frangipani flowers was wound through her long brown hair, and she carried a bunch of pink native flowers in her hands. She wondered if he was as nervous as she felt, and glanced across at Nickolas with a shy smile. He stood by her, proudly wearing his light grey gown with his long black hair tied back with a velvet band, and in her eyes he looked so handsome. Love bubbled over in her heart just seeing him there.

The day before in their home, he had held her hands and whispered, 'Tomorrow my darling, we will be blest with the Lord's prayers, so remember that and don't be nervous. My love will keep you strong.'

At the altar the minister asked for their vows, and 'Father Nick' and Patches each solemnly read out them out. Speaking her own words she looked into his warm brown eyes her voice trembled a little as she spoke.

'I Patchula Tia Montarro, do promise to love forever this wonderful man Nickolas, by giving him my devotion, my entire being, to live with, and share with him my body and all my worldly goods as a caring Christian wife.' she smiled and paused before saying these words from the bible - 'Wherever thou go'est,'I will go. Your people will be my people, your house my house, your life and mine will be joined together in prayer and be in God's hands forever.'

Uttering those beautiful words in her vows, she placed on his finger the silver patterned ring she had purchased on the mainland. He repeated in his own words his marriage vows, his deep voice echoing through the church, 'I Nickolas Joseph Morakai willingly marry thee Patchula Tia Montaro for my dearest incredible, wonderful wife. To sincerely care for and adore the rest of my life, protecting and honouring thee with my heart and body as God so wills, until death do us part.' and he placed on her third finger the plain gold ring, which had been bought and forwarded to him earlier by a colleague.

Then they repeated together the prayers of his Church, and were blessed by the Minister who, in a serious voice declared, 'I now pronounce you to be husband and wife, and may you be as one together,' making the sign of the cross over their heads.

They held out their hands and kissed each other's palms and forehead in front of the whole congregation, who cheered and smiled at them, throwing tropical flowers all over them as they left the church. Walking down the path to the special meeting-house where the celebrations were to be held, Nickolas smiled, and quite unceremoniously hugged her in front of everyone. His pride in his wife was so obvious and he turned to the people assembled there.

Calling out in a very proud voice he said, 'Here before me, is my beautiful woman Patchula, whom God has chosen for me.'

A loud clapping and cheering sounded all around after his loving words, and feeling joyous she looked up at him standing there, tall and handsome as her heart filled with pride in his presence. Friends and the villagers milling around were eager to touch them as they looked so happy, then all proceeded inside to the meeting-house, where they sat down together on the special chairs which had been prepared for them. Patches felt she was being treated like a queen, and was at peace as they both watched everyone around the room. Nickolas held her hands, squeezing her fingers, and she looked up at him, her eyes shining with joy. She was so happy she felt she would burst, and wanted to sing out loud, but did not dare spoil their moment.

The High Minister of his church came after the wedding to congratulate them both. 'The Lord knew what he was doing when he brought this wonderful woman your wife, to this island to meet you Nickolas. You yourself are a good man and it was a wise decision, and we are thankful for his mercy in doing so. This is a great union, and the Church celebrates it with pleasure, wishing you both many years of complete happiness.'

They were both very touched by his words and thanked him, their hearts overflowing when clinging to each other, their foreheads touching in togetherness as love filled the air around. The islanders dressed up for the dancing and this continued all night, as plates of prepared island food are eaten. Patches was not hungry, and after a few hours she thought she could no longer hold her eyes open. Touching Nickolas on the arm, he could tell she was weary, and asking to be excused from the all night ceremony, they walked across the sandy soil to their home. When Nickolas had embraced her she fell asleep in his arms, and he too was tired, but thought to himself, we will love each other with our bodies when the time is right.

This was the beginning of true joy in their hearts, knowing the months ahead would bring more joys and rewards. Patches realized her entire life had been channelled towards this time and day with the help of the Lord and her destiny. On the following nights Nickolas was so gentle and tender towards her without knowing of the deep problems in her past. Nor forcing anything she could not accept or was not ready to handle. The physical love he showed her was so amazingly gentle, but filled with feelings she had never experienced before.

Any fears she expected banished, as their needs for each other touched her heart, and these emotions were so new to her she was deeply affected by them. With both of them experiencing this stimulating physical love for the first time, it brought a new meaning of 'loving each other' into their hearts. Enraptured with the feelings, she felt their hearts poured out their love when clinging to each other's bodies, their lips touching as an overwhelming peace filled the air around.

'Oh Nickolas, I had no idea that your loving could be so wonderful,' she whispered tenderly in his ear. 'This is worth all the waiting, because I love you so deeply, and you are unbelievable my darling.'

Looking into her beautiful eyes he thought to himself, _I am indeed a very lucky man._ Touching her face, stroking her cheeks, and lifting a fine strand of hair away from her eyes, he fervently told her, 'My heart is completely filled with your presence, and I am grateful to God to have found you my dearest. I know he guided you into my life and arms, as you were surely meant for me,' he murmured, holding her tenderly close to his body.

As everything between them is so deeply and willingly given, any past experiences are completely forgotten in the joyful union of hearts and bodies. When going outside, their happiness was so obvious to everyone, affecting all so much so, and she felt they could tell her heart was overflowing with joy. Wherever they walked holding hands, she felt so wonderful being beside him, it was though she was walking on air. For a week they kept to themselves strolling around the beaches, with Nickolas often making whistling sounds like birds which made her giggle. While going down into the coastal tracks, they were always careful not to walk in dangerous places, particularly in the moist wet areas further on.

Even the villagers left them alone to enjoy their days, and for the first time in ages she felt like singing, but decided to wait a while yet as he was unaware she could sing at all. This was her secret for now until she could surprise him. One day they took a trip over to the larger island on the mainland for two days, to check out the shops and facilities which will be available for the Research Centre and the Orphanage when built. This was a treat for them both as shops are unknown in their village, so they purchased goods and some clothes for their future needs. Nickolas also suggested buying a bundle of various toys and books for the village children as a treat, something they rarely had.

Returning to their island, they handed out the toys after the morning Service, and the happy smiles on the faces were all they needed to see. Some gifts are to be kept as rewards for the schoolwork which would be started later on. Once the first week was over, the building work returned to normal, going full speed ahead and everyone was curious to see what would be the next unknown progressive event to happen.

### CHAPTER 18

#### REVELATIONS; DECISIONS

About three weeks later, when they were sitting on the veranda quietly looking out over the ocean, she felt this was an opportunity to ask him about his family of which he had never mentioned. She thought perhaps there is a reason for this. However she was a little hesitant to ask in case it did upset him.

Turning to face him, she said, 'Nickolas, there is one thing I know nothing about, and that is your family. If this is something you do not ever wish to speak about, or if it upsets you, I will not press you for any details.'

For a moment he did not reply, then slowly looking at her, his eyes suddenly became sad as he spoke, 'Patchula my dearest, it is not that I do not wish to speak about my family, it just brings back many unhappy memories when I think about them. That is why I have not said anything until now. If this is something you really need to know, I will explain it, as I should have told you before now. It is a long story and if you wish, I will explain it as it was told to me many years later.'

This was a strange statement and it surprised her, as it sounded as though he had not known any family at all. He paused for a moment before continuing on, a deep expression in his eyes, and she felt sorry that she had asked him that question.

'My dearest,' she said, 'If this going to distress you, leave it for now, until you are ready.'

He shook his head slowly, 'No, it is alright.' and he began speaking again in his deep slow voice. 'I was told my father was a true original New Zealander chief from the North Island, a very strong-minded man. His origin and standing were quite important among his people in the village area where he lived, and rarely did he do anything which would cause problems between him and his people. A young Austrian girl named Krista Corvanak, had come over to New Zealand to work in a mission school as a teacher. She was a pretty, dainty fair-haired girl with a sweet but pliant nature, and after teaching for a year, she was given a few days off for a holiday to see the coast and the beaches. It was there she and my father accidently met.'

His voice faltered as he remembered. 'My father was walking along the beach going to check his fishing traps on the eastern side of the coast, not far in front of Krista but unaware of her. Suddenly the breeze blew her hat away and it flew down the beach. As she attempted to chase after it, my father had seen the hat going past him and he ran fast to retrieve it, taking it back to her.' Nickolas again paused, his voice slow and thoughtful.

'Introducing himself as Bewana Morakai a tribal chief, he gave her the hat and they began to talk. Even though he was a tall, strong, brown man with the clear markings of his tribe on his body and face, their attraction to each other was felt immediately. It did not matter to her that he had a darker skin or was a New Zealander, as the chemistry between them was instant. That was the beginning of their friendship which continued for a long time, even after she had gone back to the mission school. Both kept in touch with each other for quite a while, until eventually, they decided to marry.

'Each came up against some big problems. The first trouble was the trouble of her being of a different race, and not of the New Zealand heritage, which his tribe insisted on. Also, her parents were very upset when she told them she was in love with this strangely named man with tattoos on his body. They ordered her to immediately come back to Austria which she refused to do, but these two went ahead with the marriage against the will of his people, and the wishes of her parents. Unfortunately their decision brought great trouble to their life.

'My Father was so proud but very much in love with this lovely fair haired girl, so he took her away from all these arguments to the western coast on the other side of the country. There they tried to live peacefully together in a small home he had built, and he was a good fisherman with two boats, but because she had ceased her teaching he still had to make a living and provide food for them both. The ocean and the tides around that side were not what he was used to, and this meant fish were harder to find, and not so plentiful. By then Krista was pregnant with me, and she found it was much harder for her to live that way, after being brought up in a civilised social city. She strived to be happy, and was for a good while, but without showing it she did miss her other life. They had very little furniture but she said nothing to him, only that they would need a small cradle and baby clothes. She asked for very little.'

Nickolas stopped for a minute to review his thoughts and his face again became dark and sad. Looking up at Patches he thought how fortunate he was, not at all like his father had been. Then again he began to speak in a disturbed but hoarse voice.

'This is not a good happy story,' he told Patches, 'Though I have to finish it. My father had to leave Krista for a few days to try fishing in another area further up the coast, and this was very close to the time for her baby to be born. She used to walk alone on the beach daily to keep healthy, and the day when he was due to return home she was out walking. Being heavy with child, it made her movements awkward, and on this day she walked much closer to the ocean along the edge of the beach, in slightly deeper water. Holding up her skirt she just enjoyed splashing her legs and feet in the waves surging in with the tide.

'However she did not see the large log, which had been unexpectedly carried down to the sea from the north coast, and as the tide swept the log along towards her it hit her legs, causing her to lose her balance and fall down into the water. While awkwardly attempting to roll over and get up the incoming tide swung the log around hitting her hard on her head, and she passed out, lying there in the water which was deepening with the incoming tide. My father returned not long after she had left that morning, and began to look for her along the beach, and by the time he found her, she was being washed out into the sea. Still unconscious when he waded out into the ocean, her clothes wet and heavy, he tried to pull her back to the shore and her eyes opened as she revived a little.

'Terrified when realising the shock of the accident had caused her to go into labour, it was a terrible time for him while trying awkwardly to carry her back along the beach to the little home where they lived. For hours she lay in heavy labour until I was born, a healthy strong baby, but the trauma of the ordeal had been too much for my mother. She was not a strong woman and because the midwife had not yet arrived to help, my mother and father had to manage the birth alone. Her body was damaged as I was a large baby, and she suffered badly until it was over, but I was told she nursed me straight away gazing at my face, exhausted but happy and kissed me. A few hours later she died, as the entire experience had all been too much for her. All this I learnt afterwards.

'My father was terribly distressed and in a state of shock, not willing to believe she had gone, and he would not even look at me or attend to me then. A few of his friends came straight away when they heard what had happened and were told about her sad death. One lady took me home with her to care for me until my father tried to recover. He did not change, but blamed himself for causing her death, by being away when he should have been there for her. The sounds of his grief echoed all around the area, and he could not be consoled. Sad and distraught, he was devastated, as his pride was hurt too much. Some weeks later he killed himself by jumping off the cliff into a deep whirlpool further up the coast. They never found his body! It seems this was supposed to be the one way a chief of a tribe did any penance. His self-worth was destroyed and he felt there was nothing left to live for. I never really existed in his mind.'

When hearing his last words, Patchula let out a cry when hearing the pain in his voice, and for the orphaned baby Nickolas.

'So you see Patchula,' he continued in a despairing voice, 'I did not even know my parents at all, but grew up with different people who were of his tribe. I became an orphan and stayed that way with no-one from my family wanting to help me either, because he had married a white woman and this was against his tribal rules. The first years of my life were not good, and I had to learn to ignore the unkind remarks always said to me.'

Nickolas stopped speaking he was so upset, his eyes moist with tears, as were Patches' eyes when his story ended. Most distressed by this strange, but difficult revelation about his parents, she held him close for ages until their feelings eased, their emotions being affected by what he had told her. It took a while before he was able to talk again, then he continued on explaining to her what followed.

'As a very young boy, I had been taken away to the Mission to be cared for, and there I learned to be a Missionary. The stories of my father and tribe I would always remember, but never willingly want to talk about it to anyone,' and his story finished there.

He sat silent, memories flooding his mind, his expression solemn with the emotion revealed. Patches thought to herself, that is why he has a light olive skin like me. It is just that we are from different islands in the same Pacific Ocean, and our lives have so many similarities in many ways. After that day they rarely spoke about his family, but she decided he needed to learn to forgive his father and remember his mother who followed her heart because of love. This is what she and Nickolas had also done, but luckily God was with them and the villagers approved too. She understood how odd that their stories were much the same. It added a twist of fate that his father was coloured, and his mother a white woman, whereas her parents were just the opposite. He was brought up with Missionaries, whereas she had been rescued by Missionaries. Both their lives seemed to be full of such odd coincidences.

The fact that she had been adopted by two caring people, who were not Australians, but of a close country, made her realise how lucky she was, even though they had also died. Then her life had changed as his had done, but hers was more dramatic and full of drama, whereas he led a simple but lonely life until becoming a Missionary and living on these islands.

Giving a long drawn out breath she sighed, thinking about it all, deciding for now not to wonder or dwell on everything said, but deal with their future as it eventuated. They were fulfilled and happy, and that is what counts. Their joy in each other's company and love showed wherever they went. Everything they did or thought about was lovingly shared, and it enhanced their way of living, regardless of whatever happened. They had a new life opening up, to be shared and enjoyed, regardless of what lay ahead and whatever they did, their love of God stayed with them.

Every week the work at the island continued at a fast pace, and at the end of twenty months after being held up by two Wet Seasons, the large generator was installed and the two combined Schools were completed. Even during the occasional rain showers, children came from everywhere to be taught by recruited staff staying in the simple units constructed. Church dignitaries arrived there and attended the opening of the schools, very pleased at the results.

After the seasonal showers had finished, the building of the small Hospital began, and that took another fourteen months to be completed. Two Doctors were interviewed and brought here on a temporary basis, until they decided if this was going to be the career they wanted, and the island they wished to stay on. During these years, it was so good to have some medical staff around in case they would be needed. Often there were minor incidents requiring medical attention.

By now the population had slowly increased due to the influx of students at the schools and the training Hospitals, and Father Nickolas and his wife Patches found that there was so much more work for them. Church classes became more popular, and Miz' Patches, as she was named by the children, even found some students who wanted to learn photography. So she started a small class to teach them about cameras and the art of taking photos. Young local young men were taught at the advanced school to either be missionaries, or go on to follow another trade, or a new way of living. Some young native interns were brought into the hospital to graduate over a few years as Doctors, and so much was occurring that neither Patches nor Nickolas had much time off, and very little to themselves.

Sometimes she did not feel like cooking supper, so occasionally they had a willing island woman to come and help them with this chore. All this time, Nickolas still took the services at the church which had been made larger, and in the evenings he and Patchula as he insisted on calling her, still sat down to talk over their work days while sharing a glass of wine. These hours were precious to them both as they rarely could stop to take time off during the day for themselves.

Often after dinner, they would just sit close together and he would stroke her face telling her of his love. She would just hold his hand dropping a kiss into his palm, or cuddle him, and these were personal reminders for them of their feelings, precious moments they would always cherish. The times between them when they found their love overpowering their feelings, they would move quickly to the bedroom. It was there his strength, warmth and physical capabilities brought her senses to life with an intensity she had never known before, and her body was swept away with emotion. When they finished making love, they would lay in each other's arms and drift off to sleep. Her life was now complete, and for now she wanted nothing else, as finding a true love like his was a blessing from heaven.

Much later Patches confided in Nickolas, telling him of her terrible earlier life which horrified him at first, and he could not comprehend how she had survived all of that and for so long, almost giving up. She also mentioned 'Robert who had helped her so much and ending up loving her, but Nickolas understood the reason now why Patches was unable to return that love. However he knew why bearing children was not an option for them though she still wanted children, no matter where they came from or who their parents were. Nickolas knew in his heart this matter would be attended to when they were both ready. During those first three years of marriage, they agreed to adoption, and decided to take two boys and one girl, but not all at once. Patches suggested this to him because at the present, she doesn't have as much work to do with the building programme. Everything on the plans are proceeding as hoped for.

One day she suggested, 'Dearest Nickolas, let us go over to other islands and look in the orphanages, even perhaps other countries to find the special children we need to complete our lives.'

When having a few weeks off, they left to check out and see the many orphanages everywhere, even in Australia. Eventually they found two boys, the first one, a white boy aged four, and the other a lightly coloured Malayan boy about three years of age. After their credentials were checked, permission to adopt them was given and with great delight they were able to take these children home. Soon they found that having children around their home was a little strange, but it was wonderful to hear children's voices in the house. They were like two rockets flying around but the two boys were eager to be loved, and showed different personalities at times. Being used to the children of the village Nickolas easily adapted.

He told her, 'They are normal children, mischievous, funny, and may even be disobedient.' One day after the boys had played up, he said to her, 'Darling, it 'will take time to adjust, but think of all the joy these children will give us now and later on.'

Giving her husband a rueful look after one of the children had been naughty she whispered to him.

'Yes darling Nickolas, I can handle this, but you will have to do the punishing, whatever it will be. I couldn't hurt them, even if I am angry.'

Smiling at her remark, he hugged her tightly to show her understood what she meant and felt, but said. 'My dearest Patchula, you are a wonderful mother, but you care too much.'

Leading her out to the front porch he pointed to the boys playing. 'There, see them they are not worried and neither should you be.' and that was settled for now.

Time passed, the boys grew and another year later a little two-year old island girl is introduced to the family, which kept Patches very busy and on her toes. By now, she was in her thirties, and wanted to stay young for their children, knowing she would make the time for them in her life. Having no spare time for her own pursuits, she put them on hold for a while, hoping one day to return to them, but she did take photographs of them as they grew.

The children are named and baptised, the eldest called Pieter after her first father, and the second boy Joseph, Nickolas's middle name. Tia is given her mother's middle family name, which Patches thought was so beautiful. They decided that with Pieter, Joseph and Tia Morakai, all three children were quite ample to complete their family, and Patches knew they were sufficient to her to guide and care for during the days when she was so busy. Always she found time to talk and teach them the values of being part of a family, a very important lesson. Of course, the little ones had their troubles as all children do, but with a Christian Missionary for a Father any troubles were easily sorted out and explained.

She said, 'Boys will be boys, but girls are always ladies,' a sentence which made Patches smile at the significance of the words. Those were the words her first mother Naomi had told her, while reminding her she had to be a lady, whatever her age at the time. 'If you wish to be a lady, you must act like one, and not be a tomboy as girls are. Always remember darling,' her mother said. 'Though you may not feel like a lady, you can learn to do what is required, and will be loved and appreciated for trying your best.'

Patches felt comforted, remembering her first mother's wise advice. She would think of her lovely face when speaking and remember her sweet smile always there when needed. Her father had guided her with practical wisdom, and had always been loving and firm with her.

As the building of the Research Centre on the mainlands was well on the way, a large tropical style pre-built structure was purchased and improved to the standards required to be turned into an Orphanage. This was to be run by a strong minded but kindly group of Religious Social teachers already living there. Within time, so many of the island children abandoned or orphaned are now able to receive help quickly, given a home and shown kindness and caring by the staff. Patches made sure that these women were good natured, as children need to be loved, and they believed this home would do a lot of good for the welfare of the community and the island. She was proud of her idea and the efforts to have this home there. The construction of the Research Centre continued for a few more months, mainly due to the holdups with receiving supplies in the 'wet seasons.'

Often there were shipping delays caused by the strikes over in the other countries. Workers were beginning to stir under the rules of owners, as now they pushed for better or more wages. Confrontation and strikes reigned in many overseas counties, mainly in America, and a lot more in Australia. Patches often wondered if this ever gave them what they wanted in the long run, because when on strike they lost wages which were needed to support their families. Thank heavens she thought that this does not occur here. Native Islanders are more easy-natured and accepting of their lot in life. Though this island is much smaller, the troubles of larger ones rarely affected them here, for which she is pleased to remember. Island living is quieter and they can appreciate the beauty and the seclusion it gives them, and this would be more so after all the construction was completed.

Patches and Nickolas's lives are entwined in the children and the Christian religion that influenced them, and there were prayer sessions every night. A larger decent home had replaced the original one, so the children had their own rooms. Their life was still as simple as it had always been, is spite of the advances made on the island during this time with all the progress attained. Nickolas was a very good father to the children, teaching them so much.

Quite often he'd say to them. 'You must behave sensibly and not fight over things, but come to me first and discuss your disagreements.' which they had to do. 'Also think for yourselves, while remaining attentive to my teaching and our religion.' This said, while pointing his finger at them. 'Remember this rule, boys!'

The children would stand and listen, but there was no guarantee everything their father had told them would remain in their forever active minds. Patches frequently reminded him, 'Boys will often forget your lesson of sharing and showing respect to females, after all they are born as boys. It is not at first natural for them to always be so obedient and polite. We can only hope in time they will remember your teachings.'

Nickolas would just glance at her with that bemused look on his face, never sure she was right about that. There were times of arguments and being naughty, but mild discipline was used which they understood. Rarely was severe punishment needed or used on them, but as ever, it was always applied by their father as Patches had insisted in the beginning. Pieter the eldest by a year, developed quickly, turning out to be a clever child with intelligence like his grandfather, his namesake and mother's first father.

From an early age he kept on insisting, 'Mother, when I am able to after I grow up and am older, I want to go into a business or be a Doctor.'

Joseph was quiet and gentle like Nickolas, and quietly asked his father, 'Dad, can I be a Minister like you? How long will this take me to be like you? Is it many years, as I want to stay here with you and the village children'

Nickolas always told him, 'Son, if this is your decision, that would make me very happy, and yes it does take a while, and patience is needed to be a good missionary. You must be considerate and learn to understand people and our Laws.'

Both boys were so different but had good natures, which Nickolas hoped they'd learned from their adopted parents. Their little girl Tia whose parents had died, and who was adopted from the islands, had similar skin and eyes like Patches, but grew up with different traits. A quick-tempered child, who could be sweet most of the time, until sometimes when she showed plenty of spirit, wanting her own way in certain aspects of her life. The odd days when she was actually behaving in a wilful way, causing stress to her mother, then her father had to administer the punishment she deserved, and Patches went outside.

She often thought about this and asked Nickolas one day, 'She is so different to the way I was. Where does she get that wild streak from?'

Nickolas thought for a minute. 'As we knew nothing about her parents, who can say. Maybe as she grows older she will change, but keep that streak of strong character. Who knows that by then, she may need the strength of that streak of individuality in her chosen way of life.'

Tia knew her brothers would stand up for her in school, but by herself she often preferred to be a little angel most of the time for her mother. Patches became used to her variable moods, and would take them with 'a grain of salt' as the saying goes. Then she'd remember, of course, this little girl is adopted, which gives us no knowledge of her inherited traits. These days one could adopt a child on the islands with very little legal business taking place. Those children lived at the orphanage and just needed parents who would love them, and most orphanages were willing, often very keen to hand them over to suitable families, even those from other countries.

Their own three children were a handful, but with each other's help and patience they managed, knowing they were honest and truthful, believing in God. She looked at the Islanders with big families and wondered, how in heavens name do they cope, as island life was very casual. However children can be mischievous if not constantly watched, and this was necessary. Even with no crime here or on the nearby islands, very little supervision was required, unless away from their homes in the forest or near the ocean.

There were so many happy hours spent with their family as they grew and matured, but having a minister for a father was a sobering influence on them all. Family time together discussing obedience and benefits was always observed, and the children had to pay attention to both of them. Even their friends who visited would behave when in the presence of Nickolas, but these boys were normal children when playing outside by themselves. Sports were encouraged with ball games the most popular one with the boys. Tia would join in with these, being a bit of a tomboy, and she would tumble and fight for the ball with them, much to her parent's amusement when sand flew everywhere. All learnt to swim well and play water games with the other children. Patches loved to hear the happy laughter of children as they played their games. Life went on daily as time passed on.

She'd tell Nickolas, 'Nothing beats the sound of children's laughter. At least we know they are not fighting, are still close by and not off somewhere else.'

He would pause then comment. 'Well of course, sometimes there are disagreements which can be settled, but we don't want a bunch of timid mice here. A bit of spirit shows they can handle themselves when needed. In the world of today, some gumption is a necessity, particularly in boys, as long as it is controlled sensibly.' Patches thought that his words proved to be a very wise statement, and was proud of her husband's sensible advice and knowledge.

When coming out onto the porch of their home a few months later, Patches noticed a boat approaching across the lagoon, which to her surprise seemed to have some passengers. Knowing that tourists were not encouraged to come here often, she was curious to see who they were.

As the men stepped down onto the beach and walked up to the house steps, they both glanced at her, then looked astonished, with complete disbelief showing on their faces. They stopped, looked again, but walked up the beach towards where she stood on the steps.

At first glance, Patches thought she recognised one of the men from the war years, but she was doubtful. Then after quickly staring at his face she was almost certain he looked like the helicopter pilot Brett, who had been the pilot of the plane they had escaped in back in the war years. No it could not be him. She remembered the other man. He had been one of the those who gone through the jungle with them, when the Japanese soldiers looked for the group in the jungle over in New Guinea. Startled she stopped and waited.

### CHAPTER 19

#### BENEFITS AND SURPRISES

This doubt also showed in their eyes as she came down the steps towards them to stand on the sand, then bewilderment as these men stood there not moving. One man's eyes opened wide as he turned to the other speaking with excitement.

'My God, is this truly whom I think it is?' he exclaimed. 'This is quite unbelievable, look my friend. My God. I don't believe my eyes! Do you see who this is?!'

His companion, a much older, silver haired man who was bent over a bit with a bad back, walked slowly up to her to shake her hand, and with a hesitant, shy smile he asked, 'My dear lady, do they still call you Patches? Do you not recognise me? I am John, remember! It's me, your canoeing mate.'

She stepped back, standing motionless, gazing at them both in absolute shock at his words. Her memory returned with a jolt. The never forgotten days of her frightening escape through the jungle with five soldiers, while running from the Japanese troops. Also the memorable time when she and another older white man, sat in the canoe out on the ocean. Being seen and taken aboard the large ship going on to America. She had never known what had happened to either of these men after the war, or had rarely thought about them.

Patches burst into tears, hugging them both separately. She was visibly shaking as she exclaimed, 'This is an incredible but a wonderful moment. I must call Nickolas.' which she tried to do but found he was working some distance away and did not hear her.

It was so exciting to see them after all this time, and it seemed they had each kept in touch, meeting often. Later when hearing of all the construction going on these islands with Father Nickolas from the other island, who was now living here, they decided to come over and visit him. Never did they expect to find the woman whom they had known as Patches, also appearing here right in front of them. Nickolas arrived and noticed the visitors, coming over to meet the two men.

'Good heavens,' he said when recognizing one of them.' I cannot believe I am seeing you after all this time. How is it possible, heavens, all those years back.'

Looking closely at the older man, he asked, 'Is it really you John? Have you both come over here to this island?' Turning to him with a chuckle he added, 'I guess the trip in the canoe did take you somewhere safe, and as it seems, eventually back to old friends. Though I myself have found, that being anywhere with a lady named Patches can bring surprises,' giving a mischievous smile at their expressions. 'That is something I do know about, please believe me,' and they laughed heartily at his words.

Brett was much older, still healthy and tanned, but John looked pale, and did not appear to have good health. The illness he had was caused by the trauma suffered during the war. Both are speechless when told that Patches was the instigator of all this construction and development. Brett who had returned to his trade as a builder after the war and is now retired, offered her his services in any way, as he always enjoyed island life.

The day after they were settled in another dwelling, Patches asked them to come up to supper at their house tonight. When they arrived at the house, they can see that these previous two friends from the war are apparently more than that now. Patches explained to the men about their marriage and the adopted children, and both men expressed their delight that she had found true love with Father Nickolas. For more than three hours they all discussed their earlier days, drinking either a glass of beer or wine whatever the two men preferred.

Still amazed at their appearance, Patches just wanted to hear of the men's own lives, and when asked, she explained all that she had accomplished and discovered while back in America. When informing them of her stint as a clown called 'Patches,' entertaining the sick children in the wards, the men looked at her with sceptical amusement. Neither could believe, or would imagine that Patches, the nurse who had fled with them through thick jungle forests from Japanese forces, in dirty and very soiled clothes, had actually pranced around as a clown in hospitals, singing and dancing. John smiled to himself thinking about her admission. Yes, that she would try if asked, deciding she possessed a great sense of humour and obviously a hidden talent.

Brett shook his head at the idea, remarking, 'I wonder what that tough old nurse Babs would think of those antics?'

Patches only grinned at his comment, but John chuckled. This woman had a versatile, but strong personality, and would do that or more if it was necessary at the time. He had instant flashbacks of her running down the beach fully clothed then dropping into the ocean.

Laughing aloud he told her 'So help me, my dear Patches, you never cease to amaze me. Good for you doing those performances, and I am sure the children just loved it! Has anyone here seen that presentation,' he asked the others in the room, looking around pretending to ask an audience. 'It looks as though the answer is not yet,' causing them all to laugh.

'Good Lord John, I doubt if it would do any good for me or my husband's image, presenting a picture of me dancing around as a clown', but she was chuckling at the picture her words presented.

Nickolas however thought differently, and holding back his laughter he suggested. 'My darling Patchula, you are wrong! I consider it would do the village good to know that even preachers wives can have a sense of fun. It is good to 'let loose' once in a while, don't you agree my dearest wife? Remember you have done that quite a few times before now.' Then he noticed her expression when she remembered what he was talking about.

'You know that those times were on impulse and for a reason my dear,' she said thinking of her unexpected dashes into the ocean, and her impromptu dancing at odd times. But would she still be game enough to do that now?'

Brett added a thought, 'How about a command performance for us one night Patches?'

Smiling sweetly she answered in an amiable voice 'Well, maybe one day, if I am in the mood,' but doubted this as she was too busy now for such antics. 'I guess the children would be amused, if not shocked, at seeing their mother acting in that way. We will see,' she cautiously admitted. 'Only time will tell.'

Changing the subject, she told them of her memories of the many deformed children she had seen here during the war, and how she hoped someone in the future could help these poor people and their children. 'These days with the advances of medical science, anything is possible' she added.

Their three children came in for dinner, and were introduced. The two boys shook their hands, but Tia just smiled at them as Patches told the men how these children had brought so much love into their lives. Dinner was served and afterwards the children said goodnight to all, kissed their parents and were sent off to bed. The two men looked curious when seeing the difference of nationality between the children, so she briefly mentioned to Brett and John that she was unable to have children of her own, and they accepted her explanation without question. They had gone ahead and adopted these three, and all were extremely happy.

These two men, one very quiet and the other full of ideas, stayed on for many months, and Brett offered to help them with construction ideas and work. He had a wife and one daughter in America who was a nurse in a large local Hospital, and he made a suggestion to Patches,

'I will ask my daughter Emma if she would like to come over here to try this vastly different experience in nursing. It will do her good to see another side to life as it is on this island. I know many people who live too well, and would not cope with this way of living as you all have. It is to be admired.' he said.

John a softly spoken good-natured man was the unobtrusive one, but very friendly to all. Over the next months he would sit under a palm tree talking to any of the children gathered there. Mainly of his life in America, and any stories he could remember from his youth. He never wanted to talk of the war, but once when Patches was sitting there with him and her three children, he glanced at her first, then to her dismay he began to recount their escape from the jungle and the Japanese soldiers.

'Do you children know that your mother and I and a few other soldiers, scrambled through ditches and mud when hiding in the jungle from the Japanese soldiers. We tracked through broken trails, tree roots and more for four days in the wet sticky weather, and ran out of anything to eat before we were able to find anyone to help us. Then the first thing your Mother did, when we arrived in the village, was to run down into the sea, jump into water and swim in her clothing, dirt and all!'

The children gasped looking across at their mother, and all laughed wholeheartedly, until Pieter asked, 'Mother is this true. I cannot imagine you would be that impulsive!' and he seemed so serious.

John looked at him before Patches could reply, and with a thoughtful face he remarked, 'You are only young boy, and if you are ever stranded in the jungle in the same circumstances as we and your mother were, for days on end, what would you expect lad? Believe me lad you would behave exactly the same. You would do whatever it takes to save lives. After finding that village, we received more help from your father, often having to slip into the water and hide when soldiers arrived there. The villagers as well as us had to be protected.'

Pieter looked abashed as John continued with his words. 'What a relief it was to finally meet Father Nickolas, your Dad. Then think about this lad, do you realise how hard it was for your mother to paddle out over the sea for many days with me in that canoe. It was a great distance which felt like miles, with only one experienced native to help.' John then chuckled when remembering this. 'We wore palm leaf hats on our heads in the hot sun, but still were so sunburnt, and we often had to slip overboard from the canoe into the sea when enemy planes flew overhead. The whole trip was an experience, but really traumatic! That ocean seemed gigantic and endless. Finally we were seen and rescued by the Ocean Liner. What a blessing, as I had nearly given up!'

Then he stopped speaking, when the memories returned of their desperate trip. Patches sat there throughout this story just listening, saying nothing, but her thoughts returned to that ocean trip with John and the native Benai, and she sighed! The children stayed there listening to his story with a bated breath, their eyes open wide at his words. Their mother had never ever mentioned this episode of her life to them, ever, and it was hard for them to believe. Nickolas sat with a curious expression on his face, as he had not heard all those tiny details either. It told him a lot more about his wife, her determination and spirit, and he felt so proud of her and those achievements.

When John finished his narration, she was trembling, and came over and hugged him, then in an emotional voice she said, 'You know my friend. That was an incredible adventure we will never forget. You were wonderful and really did persevere, in spite of the heat and sunburn. To top it all off, we ended up with a free voyage on an ocean liner, plus the frightening experience of planes attacking us. Who could be so lucky to get through all that, and still live to tell the tale?'

'Really mother,' said Pieter, whose mind was still whirling around what he'd just heard from John. 'Did all of that really happen to you and your friend John, as he said?' and his brother also looked at her with amazement, questions obvious in his eyes as well.

Patches looked bemused at her son's questions, but John glanced up at her with a wry grin, remembering the kindness and affection she had shown for him. 'Yep boys.' he replied 'We did have that, and all those memories it gave us. You children will always remember that your very talented mother has an interesting history, and not only a generous loving heart, but a lady who can be tough when necessary and handle anything you throw at her?'

'Oh God John don't say that.' She was aghast. You may tempt someone to throw a clump of wet sand or seaweed at me. Those are no-no's, please,' Patches asked, as the children giggled and laughed at her objections. Even the men laughed at the picture her words presented.

Then they asked to hear more, but John changed the subject and told some funny stories he knew. He did not really want to remember those days of being in the war, as fighting and hiding from the Japanese was the worst time of his life. Doing ones duty is expected of them all, but many men or women never knew just what it really meant. Thinking back to those days John realized the men knew they had to mainly obey orders, and for the honour of being a soldier for their country, though John hated wars. Too much death!

John was so much older now, after a few days he found the peace of this island with Patches and Nickolas and the gentle people here could become the best way to live now. He had never re-married when his wife Bertha had died a few years back, nor did they have any children, so he'd lived a very lonely life since then. Coming over to this island was a lifeline and a blessing. Here, if permitted John would stay until God deemed otherwise.

Patches could see it was so good for Nickolas to have someone different to talk to. Discussing world affairs with people other than with the natives here and the construction crew, gave him that opportunity. He himself was always interested in news of the outside world. Rarely did Nickolas listen to the radio or have the chance to share ideas with others about everything.

With encouragement from the men, Patches decided finally to have a modern communication system set up, and a stereo-radio installed for her husband. Besides she agreed, it was necessary to include even more modern equipment in the schools and hospital, as progress had to be kept up with. Everything in the world was changing and modern equipment improved and was purchased for the benefits of communication as well. Having the Research Centre on the other island entailed keeping up with new medical knowledge and development. Any new research brought ideas to the Laboratories to be proved of value to the future and progress never ceased.

John asked them if he could stay on the island with their blessing, and he offered to help in any way when needed. The children liked this idea as he became popular with all of them, including the native children. Being an even-tempered man he showed patience and understanding with all of them. He had a good sense of humour, and would tell them jokes and stories from his childhood, whichever ones he could remember. The children would gather around him on the beach, and many times he could be seen, pants rolled up, paddling in the shallow water with them hanging onto his hands on the edges of the ocean. When seeing him like that with the children, Nickolas would smile to himself, thinking what a blessing it was that John had come to this island to live with them and their family. This dear man could spend the rest of his life being happy, as he seemed to like being a member of their family.

They all continued to grow, and the lives of this Christian family held together through many and all their problems. Both of the boys had learned to swim early as it was so easy to drown, and they were always playing around in the ocean down the front beach. Patches would take them out in the canoe with a native worker when they could swim, while she took photographs of her surroundings. They would dive into the waters around the reef, and learn everything about the fish and the reef that protected them. Also the movement of tides which were controlled by the position of the moon, and John would sit on the beach, just happy to watch them.

When the little daughter Tia was three, she learned to swim very quickly, and the boys showed her all the delights of the reef and the ocean, with either John or Mother keeping an eye on them. Patches often wondered if any really big tides could come in this far to their quiet beach, but never asked Nickolas about this, as it did not seem important now. Everything in their life progressed, as most of the buildings were completed, so they had time to relax more, and Patches looked better for having this free time away from work. Often she'd sit down on the beach by herself looking out at the ocean with its beautiful colours of different blues, so peaceful and quiet, and the changing clouds drifting past. It was hard to imagine it could ever change, so she didn't.

The palm trees waved gently in the breezes, and she would sift the gritty yellow sand through her fingers, thinking how wonderful her life was now, being free and happy. Sometimes she fell asleep, and the children would sneak down there and stand for a minute before throwing wet sand onto her feet, then run away giggling to themselves. She rarely growled at them for this, knowing it was only a childish prank, even if the sand was wet and cold, but luckily none landed on her clothes. Nickolas would see them doing this and didn't chastise them, but was pleased to see his wife enjoying her freedom away from pressure. He himself would pray and thank God for finding Patches, and bringing her here to his island for him to love. He knew how deeply intense their feelings were, and was thankful to have three children to appreciate and love. Life could not be better.

When Brett returned to America he was missed quite a lot, but John decided never to leave. Of course only if they were still willing to put up with him, which both Nickolas and Patches agreed with. The quiet life here away from the cities was beneficial to John's health, and the children soon looked on him as their grandfather, becoming part of the family. John would often glance at Patches remembering her in her dirty army clothes when she first met him. She would never have guessed by meeting the Missionary Father Nickolas when she did, how her own way of life would change. It proves that no-one really knows what is ahead.

Brett, whose knowledge had been useful in the building work, took home with him some photos of the whole family to remember them by. He wished to show them to his daughter whom he hoped would also go over there, after his telling her about the island life. The holiday on this island had opened his eyes as to what can be achieved with financial help and determination, as Patches had proved. He felt proud to have known this young woman and all she had achieved, and decided to talk to people he knew, and inform them about the Research Centre, and the Orphanage on the mainland. Brett often met people who wanted to adopt one or more children, so he enjoyed telling them about the orphanage and its many lonely children. Brett also considered this Centre could be a wonderful benefit to Science, and perhaps with a little publicity, the right people would go over there to offer their services. Finding cures for the many terrible diseases around the world were being discovered every year, in America, England, even Australia and Europe, as medical science advanced through the years.

Everything cost money, but it also needed someone to push, and make available those research centres for medical problems as Patches had done. He was so impressed with her wonderful financial help and the progress of all the constructions here on the islands. The money she inherited had been invested wisely for a great many years by financial advisors, and was enough for all their needs and the business ventures now, and into the future. This family never considered that they were wealthy, and as Patches stated, the money was there for a purpose and had to be used in a functional, beneficial way. In time she started two investment accounts with money she put aside. One was specifically for the support and upkeep of the Research Complex and the Orphanage, over on the mainland. The other was for their children and their education. Money was never wasted as they only made essential purchases for their family. When all the buildings were completed, both Nickolas and Patches finally agreed to take the holiday they had considered for years.

Nickolas had recently said to her, 'Do you know we've never had a honeymoon my dear, so this is what we will do now. You have been going at this program for a long time, and both of us need to have a real holiday, away from business papers, plans and meetings. I know you would enjoy this break.'

She was pleased at his thoughtfulness, so they arranged to have a well-deserved three weeks away, checking out other islands in the area, and leaving their children with John and their trained native helpers. Firstly, they would travel by plane all the way to Canada, then visit an American national park of which there were many to choose from. Next, short stays at the small resort towns along the coast in both countries, then travel on through America, looking into the modern uses of a Research facility, and what could be accomplished when having one available. They will also search for modern improvements for their hospitals and schools, combining this with a few relaxing days.

Most of the time they never worried about the weather, as on their island it rarely changed. They often heard it often played havoc in the Pacific Ocean but so far they had been lucky, nothing serious had occurred here for years. It was reported over the radio that Cyclones and even Tsumani's often appeared from no-where, causing destruction and deaths. Many of them travelled around the Pacific Ocean, or down to the Northern Islands above New Guinea and Australia. Even earth quakes appeared in Greece, Italy, Japan or New Zealand, and flooding occurred in certain Asian and south American countries with too much rain.

Volcanoes were another problem, with some erupting across on the west side of America, Japan and also in New Zealand. When hearing of these awful disasters, she was grateful to be living away from them on their little island. She had noticed when looking up information for their trip, that there were ridges deep in the oceans, and one which ran around the edge of the entire Pacific Ocean, and was called the strange name of 'THE RING OF FIRE.' She read when the undersea plates moved, they caused all those problems around those oceans on both sides. This intrigued her so much she mentioned it to John when talking to him before they left on their holiday.

Finding him sitting near the beach Patches remarked, 'One can never be certain about how the weather will be in the future. The world is a big place and anything can happen at any time, especially now with all the talk of global warming. Now with the earth's atmosphere being affected by these changes, it's no wonder people are worried what might happen next.'

'Patches my dear lady, you should not concern yourself, or worry your head about these things,' he said. 'I have to John, because it affects all the building standards, and that of course also applies here. I found out it is necessary for any new buildings on islands to have the necessary high cyclone rating, so all these weather changes have to be taken into account.'

She knew that tidal surges affect low coastlines after her childhood experiences, and never wished to see that again. There were still vague memories of that awful dirty water swallowing up her home where she was born, drowning hundreds of villagers. After returning from this trip she was going to have all the buildings on their island checked for this rating, and make sure they were built to the required standards. If not, changes would have to be made.

'Nickolas, do you know I had never considered this option of rating buildings before now, to see if they can withstand cyclonic weather, and it seems that is very important,' she said frowning at him.

'My dear, it would be a shock, and a terrible disaster to see all your work here gone with the wind, so as to say.' replied Nickolas,' and stop frowning, it will give you wrinkles my love,' laughing at her as a quirky look appeared on her face.

'Heavens Nickolas, that's a terrible thing to say. Not about the wrinkles, but when speaking about our island,' she reprimanded him. 'We are pretty close to the ocean, and though those events do not reach us, we will always need to be cautious and ready. As to your thoughtful comment about my frowning dearest, that's life,' she said with a grin. Fancy him coming out with that odd remark.

Then quickly she checked her face to see how many lines appeared on her skin, happy to notice just a few. The children came running into the house with a problem, which distracted her from that thought, so she had to attend to them. Arguments over their special belongings often occurred between them, and this one was quickly settled.

### CHAPTER 20

#### FAMILY; RECOGNITION

After deciding when they would go on this holiday, they arranged first to take the boat over to the nearest island which had an airfield, then proceed from there. Packing up and finally waving goodbye, they left on their trip, and she was thrilled as this was the first holiday she had taken. Now it was so much better as Nickolas was there with her. His presence made all the difference in everything, and he enjoyed seeing the various cities and little towns in other countries as much as she did.

Everywhere they travelled, their eyes and minds were amazed when seeing the vast size of certain cities, the huge buildings and most of all, the hundreds of people living and working in them. Each night they discussed what had they had observed and discovered, and where they walked to. Her energy never ceased to amaze Nickolas, as did her questions about the countries they visited, their beautiful gardens, lakes and mountains areas. Some left her speechless with their beauty, particularly those of Canada. She wrote daily into her diary and took heaps of photos, so her camera was well used. After this wonderful trip was undertaken, the many photographs she was able to take gave them so much information for talks back home, to the villagers and the school children and for all of them to learn about the outside world.

When finally returning home from their holiday, Nickolas and Patches would go down to the beach, sit on the low chairs in the cool of the evening just after dark and talk to each other as they always had. These hours were very precious to them both. One particular night, Patches walked out to the wet sand, held her skirt up, and sank her feet into the cool water on the edge of the ocean, kicking up the water with her toes. She tried tempting Nickolas to do the same while trying not to get his cassock wet. Recently she had urged him to wear the cooler modern version of Ministers clothes. A straight shorter top and trousers, which he did wear later on, instead of the long black cassock he normally used.

Right now he joined her, amused at her playfulness. Sometimes he tickled her feet, or when sitting down on the edge of the beach he rolled her over the sand, expressing his love by gently kissing her face. Always he'd look around to see if anyone could see them. They would enjoy themselves like children in this fun time, with sand in their hair and wet feet. Waves would roll up and splash over them, but they did not mind as this island was their paradise. However she knew Nickolas often had reservations about this display of their affections in public, even though knowing rarely anyone was around then.

Patches reminded him, 'When we are here and have fun playing like this on the beach my darling, the parishioners would smile to see their Minister frolicking around this way with his wife. We are normal human beings.' she said with a muffled laugh.

It may not be dignified, she thought, but she didn't really care at all. Once in a while some of the villagers would spot them, seeing their Minister and his wife acting that way like a young couple in love. They had been married for some time, and their love was stronger than it had been in the beginning. Both being tolerant and bringing their children up in a Christian environment, it reflected in their attitude and love towards each other, and this their children could see.

As the children were growing older, Nickolas encouraged them to discuss their dreams, hopes and ambitions with him. Once a week when joined by John, they would all sit down in the lounge with Patches making comments, checking their knowledge of the outside world. During these discussions with the children and between themselves, questions were asked and they were shown the books and albums she had collected for them over the years. Even after they had attended the evening service and before retiring to bed, Nickolas would often join in the conversation offering his ideas on their comments.

Both the boys would talk of their ambitions, but Tia would jump up and state in a determined voice, 'I am going to be a clever scientist and discover wonderful things, you see,' and the boys would laugh at her. 'No Tia, men become scientists, not women,' said Pieter scornfully.

Nickolas reprimanded the two boys 'That is not always true son. Many women take up medical Research, and there is nothing wrong with being ambitious, as long as you follow your dreams in a good way. Look at what your mother has accomplished here. This was her dream, even though it all took years to be completed and she never gave up. Being patient as she was proved to be a blessing, and this you all should remember.' and he watched their faces to see if they had listened to him, and felt pleased at their intent expressions.

Around this time Patches told him, 'I intend to put together a documentary book full of photos and my written memories, and will send them to a publisher in America. Naturally these will be my good memories. Whether he wants to do anything with them or not, I will soon find out.'

After looking through her notes and albums, he offered her some advice, 'Don't be disappointed my dear if these papers are not suitable, or if these people are not interested. I consider they are full of our memories and knowledge and are worthwhile, but they may not be saleable,' while patting her hand at the same time. 'These days, publishers seem to only want tales of danger, crime, horror stories, famous people or politics. We are lucky not to be able to give them that sort of story, as crime here does not exist, so it is something we know nothing about.'

She just smiled and agreed with him, while hoping in her heart he might be wrong. Now getting close to the age of mid forties, she thought her life had been full of events and quite interesting over all these years. Waiting for quite a while, she thought the Publisher had forgotten her, but in the mail three months later, she received a letter from them. He asked if she could give more personal details and names, he would be interested in her papers, and she was disillusioned when reading his words. Reluctant to give the real names of those who had been in her life, she informed him in a letter.

'No, I am sorry. It is not practical for me to do that, as some people may still be alive and I do not want their lives exposed. So only my photographs can be used, as supplying real names might upset some of the people I met and knew in those days.'

Though disappointed, he accepted her words, but the photographs were not only published but also entered in a competition. They received quite a lot of attention and comments, as it seemed she had not lost her ability with a camera and was pleased with the results. Almost every day the scenery and the weather changed, but her photos would always capture those brilliant detailed images, and the natural colours of the water, reef and the sea creatures. The children grew older with curious minds, wanting to know everything that life had to offer.

Her husband's hair started showing a bit of silver grey around the edges, and she thought it enhanced his face and told him. 'You know I think I will have to watch you Nickolas, in case someone else snaps you up while my back is turned.'

He laughed at her remark, 'You and God keep me so busy I do not even worry about things like that. After all, who else would have me?'

She flashed back with the answer, 'No-one will, as they would have to fight me to the death with canoe paddles to try taking you away from me. You are my special love and don't you forget it man!'

This was such an absurd remark he could not stop laughing, and the tears ran down his face while he hugged her tightly. That they could still have a humorous moment like this showed how strong their marriage had been over all this time, and she loved his sense of humour. Of course, she meant every word of that remark, though he did not believe it for a minute. Seeing anyone being chased around by his wife welding paddles, would be an event to be remembered. He grinned to himself again at the thought, appreciating her wild sense of humour.

Time flew very quickly as so much had occurred in recent years, and when the boys turned eighteen and nineteen with their birthdays just a few months apart, they were given a special birthday party each. The school children from the village danced their native dances for them around a beach fire, and after that birthday each of their sons was allowed to follow their own interests and beliefs. One day Pieter told them which career he intended to take on for his future, and he asked them to listen and understand his decision.

'Dad, and Mother, I want to travel to Australia to attend University, and hopefully attain my Doctors degree to specialise in children's diseases and abnormalities.' and his parents agreed this was sensible, as they knew he was a determined young man. It would be a very useful, demanding profession for him.

Pieter was made of a 'different cloth' to his brother, but his ideas were worthwhile, and may hopefully eventually prove him right if he succeeded, bringing new visions and discoveries of medicine to this Research Centre. Joseph, unlike his brother, decided to stay there to help his father with the religious duties of becoming a Minister.

He told them, 'I love these children and serving God, and I will be the one to teach schooling to the little Island boys, and encourage those who are interested in doing the same as I do. This will help them go on to achieve other talents they may produce in the future.'

Nickolas was pleased, thinking how wonderful it was that Joseph had these ideas. It showed how much their belief in God had inspired him to want this. Both of his sons had chosen a career which suited them and their personality, and Nickolas and Patches were contented. Over time, he taught Joseph the rules and scriptures of his church, and Joseph stayed there on the island with them and did what he could to help when it was needed.

Tia was changing but still had her fiery spirit spurring her on. She would investigate every little query, or nook and cranny looking for an answer. The one and only time this caused trouble, was when walking around the rocks one afternoon searching for shells. She slipped on the sharp coral which cut her foot and ankle, and it was so painful she had to call out for help to a native standing nearby. He carried her up to the medical rooms to be treated, but very quickly the cuts became badly infected by the coral, a well-known problem. Her foot and ankle were very swollen and red for some time, but for Tia it was a darned nuisance as it curbed her activities. Her mother insisted she take medication for the pain, and it was weeks before an improvement was seen. On top of that she could not walk very far, so this accident taught her to be more careful when walking near or on coral rocks which she always enjoyed doing. Normally she wore sandshoes, but this was an impulse to walk barefoot which proved dangerous.

`'You know Mum,' she said to Patches afterwards, 'I never dreamed I could be so stupid, but I did not think that coral could cause this infection. I have never heard of this before.'

Patches realised her daughter had finally begun to assess things first, and really use her brain. Her impetuous streak would always be there, but now it was a case of 'look before you leap', a new lesson learned. Her foot and ankle healed eventually, but would always be a reminder to be aware on shell covered rocks. Patches was so proud of their children's attainments, putting any of their certificates on the wall and thanking God. She never forgot her early childhood and the experiences she had gone through, hoping their children would follow their own desires and be able to accomplish their ambitions as they grew into adults.

Pieter did leave and go away to Australia for some time, attending University, and when he came home for his holidays, the two boys would sit together and talk about their everyday life, as they were so close to each other. Nickolas would listen to his sons giving his views on whatever was discussed and offering his advice. There were so many changes in the outside world that could affect them at any time.

They heard of the fighting in other eastern countries where leaders would rule by their beliefs, causing terror and grief with deaths and hardship. In those countries, women are forbidden to speak out, and keep their faces hidden behind veils. They were not recognised as women with any rights at all! Patches considered that those countries may be religious but are still living in the dark ages where men ruled with an iron fist. This was so distressing to hear about and she prayed that if a war began, neither of the boys would choose to join up in the Services. Knowing this was selfish, she hoped God would excuse this trait in her. Their sons want to do some good in the world, not to be used as targets in a never ending conflict and waste their talents.

However, that decision would be their choice. As long as wars in nearby countries were not imminent or nearby, she did not worry. Nickolas understood her fears about the wars, often holding her close, calming her down. He also remembered the first time when they had met was during the war. How different she was now, in her fifties, growing more beautiful in his eyes every time he looked at her. With very few lines on her face, her skin remaining firm and supple, her figure the same, with just a few silver hairs showing in her lovely dark hair. He considered they were the luckiest of people, having found each other as they did so many years back.

Patches would look at him, proud that he was her husband. Tall and straight in his cassock, he was confident in his preaching and beliefs, and this showed in everything he said and did. Their love was so powerful, it was with them every day, and these feelings helped to fulfil their dreams.

By now the Research building and Orphanage were completed and soon ready to be used. The local council on the main island decided to have an official ceremony, and install a brass plaque on the outside walls of both buildings. The name given to this building will be the Montarro Research Complex, and the Orphanage will also display the Montarro name out the front. Nickolas and Patches were invited to come over as special guests with Joseph, to attend this celebration. Their other children were away studying. Pleased but surprised at this unexpected invitation they travelled there, and when arriving were seated in the front row on the dais with the city Councillors. Joseph sat below with the gathered people invited to attend this opening. When all had quietened down the Mayor addressed the people.

'I assume most of you are aware of the wonderful work Mrs Patchula Morakai has allowed us to accomplish over the last many years, and how this great Research building will be an asset to the town, as well as the Orphanage. We are all so delighted with the results of her efforts, her wonderful ideas and her amazing generosity in financing these much needed developments to the island and for its people. This is a great honour for us all, and I hope in the future this Research Centre will prove to be an excellent asset to our island. Having the Orphanage there will help many innocent children to find a home, and be cared for as they deserve.'

Everyone clapped enthusiastically and the Mayor asked Patchula to say a few words, then he sat down. She was very hesitant as she had never talked in public like this before, but after Nickolas touched her hand with encouragement she stood up. Gathering her courage she looked around at the people waiting, paused for a moment, and began to speak. Nervously at first then in a strong voice as her self-confidence started to show.

'Many years ago during the last war when I first came to a Pacific island, I was saddened by the awful scenes of the people and children with horrible disfigurements on their bodies and faces, and the diseases which were prevalent. In those years there was no treatment at all for these problems, and I never forgot, but hoped one day to be able do something about them. At that time this was an impossible vision. Years afterwards, due to the wonderful benefits left to me by my first parents, I was thrilled to be able to come over here and carry out my long-time dream of helping these sadly deformed, misunderstood children and adults. Today I am honoured to open this wonderful Research Establishment and the Orphanage to the public and the many children who will benefit from that. I hope that scientific Research will achieve so much more in the following years. My husband and I are pleased to say that we believe God was with us all the way through the years of the construction of this complex, and we both are honoured to be here today.'

As she finished speaking, she uncovered the brass plaque which stated, 'This plaque commemorates an extraordinary gift from Mrs Patchula Morakai, and her Austrian family, and is named the 'Montarro Research' complex.'

Patches stood there, as the Mayor got to his feet again and finished with these words, 'The orphanage also carries the name of Montarro, and we hope it also proves to be a great advantage to this town and children. The people here will always be grateful for the progress and future advances in science, which this complex will eventually bring to us. We hope one day with advancement and research, the world may come to our doorstep for its progress in those fields.'

A tumultuous applause echoed in the air as the assembled crowd cried out with cheers, all clapping for Mrs Morakai who was quite embarrassed about the fuss. Patches was pleased for the completion of her dreams, and stepping down joined Nickolas who smiled and held her hand. Slyly he slipped a little kiss behind her ear which tickled, but made her nudge him for his audacity in public.

Joseph came to her and whispered, 'How proud I am of you Mother. These two Centre's will prove to be great endeavours, you see.'

They now went on to a luncheon, and after this was served Patchula, Nickolas and Joseph decided to leave, but many of the people gathered there stood up and clapped as they left the hall. Patches glanced back at them smiling as they walked to the door.

'I am afraid I do not like these crowds and gatherings as I prefer our quiet little island. Let us go home, my dearest Nickolas.' she told her husband.'

They all said goodbye to the Mayor and councillors, and left the town to catch the boat for the ride to their island and home. It was nearly dark when arriving there, and she bid Joseph good night. Walking up the steps of their house and once inside, she quickly undressed, waiting until Nickolas joined her in the bedroom. They softly hugged each other and slipped into a restful sleep.

### CHAPTER 21

#### NEW IDEAS, FUN AND DEATH

The next day life returned to normal, for which she was so grateful. Any sort of fuss was not in her nature to enjoy. Their life here was not so busy now, and she could devote time to other pursuits, some she had forgotten about. Family as ever always came first. Joseph absorbed all of the Church teachings eagerly and willingly, which pleased his father. Nickolas always regretted not having had the benefit of a father himself, but determined to show his son how to live with truth and faith. Having Joseph follow in his footsteps filled his heart with joy but relief, as his son is sincere with a true belief in God.

Tia was now a very independent young girl determined to learn Pathology, and she left home to go to America and take on advanced training. Patches hoped she could handle life in a much larger country, and after gaining her certificates, she returned to work in the hospital here on the island for two years. Then she went back to America to study with a clever young pathologist named David, whom she had met in America and was rather fond of. Tia had a tempestuous spirit and often spoke her mind, not like her quiet mother, but she's not known as a flirt. A pretty young woman, with lustrous brown curly hair and bright brown eyes, and with her honey coloured skin she drew many young men to her side. Patches would look at her and think how similar in appearance her daughter is to her when she was the same age.

With a clever independent nature and curious about scientific subjects, Tia was popular, but with a nature altogether different to how her mother said she had been. She was not aware of the awful times her mother had lived through, Tia charged through her life with a liberated, but determined spirit. Thinking about her daughter, Patches often wished she had been like that as a young woman, as it may have made a large difference to her life.

Now she continued with her photography to occupy her time, but kept an eye on Nickolas and Joseph. The months went by as John still stayed with the family, and they enjoyed his quiet company, though he offered and gave his help when he could. He preferred to talk to the island children about his life before in his country, or tell them humorous tales. This family had become the main part of his life, and the love between them was returned, so he was happy. Patches often came down to sit and talk with him on the beach, but more recently she noticed he seemed to show his age, and tired easily, which concerned her a lot. Sometimes he had trouble getting to his feet after sitting on the sand, so Patches found an old cane for him to use.

Giving her a grin when receiving it he said, 'Patches my dear girl you are a blessing, as I do believe age is catching up with me.'

As some years passed, Tia and her friend David became closer, and not long afterwards they decided to marry in his hometown in America, and her parents said they would fly over for the wedding and meet his family. Patches and Nicolas were intrigued when David told her that his father had also been a Minister, but in an American church in the north-west above San Francisco. When David's father had recently found that he had serious medical trouble he retired, knowing he was able to do that being wealthy in his own right.

As a young woman with simple tastes, Tia wanted to have a low key wedding, and asked her parents, 'If you don't mind Mother, I will be wearing a plain pastel suit with a small bouquet at no expense to you both,' and they agreed to her suggestion to avoid any discussion on the alternatives.

Before her parents arrived there, Tia had asked David's mother Katherine to call her mother by the name of Patchula, not the nickname she was known as on the island. For the wedding David wore a plain suit and the two of them looked very smart together, and were married simply and quietly in the local church. Both looked so happy that Nickolas and Patches agreed it was a wonderful match of minds and medical career's. David's mother Katherine had been a social worker with experience in many fields, and she often debated this with Patches. She discussed the ways to handle many social issues which might occur later on the island, and her advice was appreciated with her other sensible comments. Her husband would sit there and listen but rarely wanted to speak. He seemed contented to watch his family go about their daily duties, or just relax.

When thanking Katherine for her hospitality Patches suggested, 'Perhaps you both will come and visit us one day, while you are energetic and able to.'

Katherine gratefully replied 'We will, given the opportunity and the right time thank you.' and Nickolas and Patches departed, looking forward to being home once more.

When David and Tia both graduated later from the large teaching Hospital in America, they each told their parents they intended to travel, first overseas then to England before settling down as Research scientists. Explaining their reasons, they said, 'We want to discover for ourselves the much needed therapies and treatments for certain children's infections and abnormalities. Now there is the tragedy of blindness in the adults, which is was also important to us,' added David showing deep concern in his face.

'Yes,' agreed Tia, 'these shocking tragedies seemed to be more prevalent in the villages of Eastern and Asian countries than European, and medical help is now available, but only in certain countries. Surely we can make a difference if we study them?'

So now off they travelled, keen to look and remember. Both Tia's and David's parents hoped the young couple would return to the island to work in the new Research facility later on. They did come back in eighteen months full of ideas, hoping to find them useful in their work in Research which was a going concern by then. Because the Centre was doing well and able to handle most medical situations, it was soon obvious there were other diseases rampant in the islands, caused by insects and travellers from Europe and Asia. Some really terrible cases were taken away to specialist Doctors who agreed to operate with no charge, and they received wonderful treatment. Even adults were found in little villages hidden away in the mountains with huge abnormalities. Most affected adults would not consider having any treatment, though being shunned, but they were also scared to leave their home. There the people were used to them, always aware these conditions would cause their eventual death.

A few times David's parents travelled over to visit Nickolas and Patches on the main island, hoping these two young adults would take a hint and produce grand-children soon. However, they had to wait for this to occur, because both were hell bent on discovering cures, nothing else was more important to them. Nickolas and Patches continued with their daily work, still being mindful of their health, as lately she found herself becoming tired, and resolved to ease up when finding that Nickolas was also worried about her. When all the building works were completed, she decided to unwind and enjoy the real life on the island again, plus talking to the native people, which she did. Though by now, she knew a lot of their language, it was still hard to communicate with the elders of the village. She found that their old customs and ideas were set, and many could not be changed or removed from their minds. Now she just waved to them, leaving them alone.

When Nickolas had no church or schooling on certain days, she'd ask him 'Let us go for a walk darling, it's too nice to stay cooped up inside'. 'Well it seems that this is important, so we will do so, dearest,' and he'd put down his pen or book he may have been reading and go with her. Holding hands, the two of them would stroll along the sands on the edge of the coastline, just talking. Whether Tia and David had children then, or if Pieter decided to marry later, it was not a worry, as they still had Joseph there to help. Both did not care as long as their family were all strong and healthy, doing anything they enjoyed. Once Patches was full of zeal, now all she wanted was to have peace for them both, with their three grown children not far away or coming back one day to be by their sides. What else could they ask for?

Joseph, a tall slim young man, with black hair and eyes, was the kind and thoughtful son on whom the village children doted, and they'd follow him everywhere. He was devout and pleasant young man, who loved all of the children, regardless of age and temperament. He and a clever Australian teacher Lenina became close, as she worked there at the senior school. His parents thought one day they would eventually marry, but neither are in a hurry, as the native children and the church keeps them both busy. Nickolas told Joseph when he proved he was ready, he would be made a minister of the Church. Patches found out later that Lenina also had a sweet singing voice so Patches encouraged her to sing whenever she had the time off and felt like it.

The islands had become much busier since the addition of the Research Centre, and they were informed about Medical meetings being held on the mainland to discuss new and recent discoveries. The island children graduated from the senior school to follow their own ambitions, with some going overseas. With using her money, Patches had brought so much to these islands, good education, medical help and quality of life. She knew she would always be grateful for everything she received through the financial inheritance from both her parents and father. They all had given her the opportunity to do anything she had wished for and had accomplished, in the many years she had lived there.

As she told Nickolas, 'Sometimes money used wisely, can do so much good,' which made him so proud of her intelligence, and the determination and zeal to do what she had always dreamed of.

Other than her family and friends who called her Patches, she was known as Patchula to anyone else, as she and Nickolas had both earned the respect and gratitude of hundreds of people. Many visited their island when allowed to, receiving permission to come across there. They however preferred to keep this island free from noisy, often messy camera carrying tourists as much as possible.

A week later when staring out at the beach and ocean, she had the idea of putting in a long jetty down on the ocean front, but not too close to the other ramp which had been used for unloading building supplies. With a long jetty there, little boats carrying friends or relatives could pull in when they visited, instead of coming into the white beach where many had to step into the water when leaving the smaller boats. Women most of all, preferred not to get their clothing or shoes wet when having to use this way accessing the beach.

Mentioning this to Nickolas, he agreed it was a great idea. She knew that tourists were not really encouraged here, but now even the native children's parents who paddled out in their canoes to meet family or visitors would appreciate the benefit of a jetty of any size. Over a few months with help from the village men, a long jetty was constructed, jutting out into the ocean where the water was deeper. Timber for the top deck was cut and carried in from trees in the local jungle, but the large posts were ordered from the mainland, and they had to wait longer for them to arrive with the cement. Soon it was completed, and looked so grand with rails along one side. To celebrate the opening of the new jetty, an event was organised for that evening, and Patches was asked to be the first one to walk along this jetty, which she was pleased to do.

The islanders gathered around and her happy mood was evident, when she decided to come out wearing a long native grass skirt, so unusual for her. Normally she would just laugh it off, but tonight when doing a little native dance she swirled her skirts. All the villagers laughed merrily at her, pointing as she swivelled her hips when stepping out onto the timber jetty. Though this was unusual for a ministers wife, it was also fun for her to do it, and she only tried the one dance, feeling that it was quite enough for her to be demonstrating in such a way in public.

Waiting on the beach Nickolas stood there watching, startled at her sudden burst of dancing. Then later on to her astonishment, he came over to where she was sitting near the fire, pulled her to her feet, and clasping her around the waist he swung her slowly around. They danced to the music within the circle near the fire, while everyone cheered and clapped them on. It was the first time he had ever done this in public, and she was so happy but absolutely delighted at his unexpected actions. Everyone joined in with the singing, while clapping hands to the music, then some of the native women performed their own tribal dances. Afterwards they both laughed for ages, having enjoyed that complete moment of fun and togetherness between them. This day would be remembered by all for a long time afterwards, as it brought them all, the adults, children and friends together in a special way.

Even John with his bad back, stood up and made a small attempt to try and move around with his grandchildren, as he called them. It was so good to see him laugh and really enjoy himself, which was not often. Patches kept a watch on John worried about him and his problems, realising his age had caused inflamed joints, but soon realized he was really ill. A few months later to their distress, John her fondest friend, helper and ex war veteran, was badly affected with a debilitating illness. Just before Xmas, he had asked to see the ocean, and Nicolas and Joseph carefully carried him down to the water's edge in a chair, with Patches walking beside them.

They heard him say, 'This is a blessed place, and you both have made me so very happy for the second time in my life. You know the first time was when I married my dear wife, but now I thank each one of you.' Placing his hand onto Nickolas's arm, he said, 'You have been my dearest friend and confident for some years, and I am so grateful for that. I had a special life with my wife and this one has been more than special.' he stopped talking and sat there quietly thinking, his eyes closed.

There was silence as no-one spoke, and they could hear only the palm leaves swishing in the breeze, the sound of the ocean so close, it was peaceful. John stayed there so quietly she thought he had gone to sleep and waited. A few minutes later after pausing for that breath, he took hold of Patches arm, and continued speaking in such a weak voice she could barely hear him.

'Patches, my dearest lady and friend, you are a wonderful woman and very exceptional, as are your precious children. Your husband and partner Nickolas is truly blest, and with God's help is the greatest gift you've been given.' He then motioned to them he wished to go back to his cottage.

They carried him home, and the following day he again asked to speak to Patches as he still called her. Holding her hands and blessing her, his voice faded slowly to a whisper. 'You my dearest Patches, brought new life and joy into mine, as to me you are the daughter I never had. I love you as such, and you have been a gift from heaven to an old man.'

Though nearly crying, she leaned down to kiss his pale face, feeling her eyes fill with tears at this remark, and her heart ached as these were the last words he uttered. He looked very peaceful as he closed his eyes and saying no more he passed away. Nobody ever really knew his age and everyone was extremely upset, especially the three older children who had grown up seeing him as their grandfather, never having real ones of their own. They buried him on the island back in among the palm trees which he had always loved, with Father Nickolas giving a very memorable ceremony. island flowers were placed on his grave by the village children who not only doted on him but loved him as well. Patches knew she would really miss this gentle old man whom she also looked on as a second father. It took many weeks of grieving before she managed to get over his death as John had been part of her life longer than her own father had.

When she attended Church Services she thanked God for having known John and for the wonderful support her husband gave her. She always realized the devout faith Nickolas had was so much part of his entire being, always holding her up keeping her strong. She recently decided that one day when their children had babies of their own, she would sing to them as she used to sing, as she missed doing this. The memories of the many times she had often performed slipped through her mind, and all the different places she had been to when singing. The songs may have changed, but music is always there giving pleasure, and now she wanted to sing again.

Nickolas was never aware of her singing talent or even knew she had sung anywhere. This has been her secret always at the back of her mind. Remembering the only piano on the island was an old one over in the church, with just the stereo in the house, she told herself she would remedy this situation as soon as possible. Not wishing to tell Nickolas about her singing, but if having another piano there she would have to make some changes. First she would practice quietly without him knowing, and then she could spring this on him.

If he was at home she had to be very careful, but chose the times when he was at the church or out speaking to the elders of the village or the children. Quietly she'd slip out the back of their home and practice her singing, always watching to see if Nickolas had returned home, so she improved and her singing was going well. Now the right music to sing to was important, as the songs she used to perform during the war are not the ones she wants to use now and here. She needed the music and words that pleases not only her, but everyone else who might listen. Modern songs she was not very familiar with, so it took some time to resolve and to go ahead with these plans.

Patches remembered that Joseph's girlfriend Lenina also sang, and over the last few months Patches had encouraged the young woman to learn more lovely songs from when the years before when Patches had performed in public. These love songs Patches herself had often thought of singing to Nickolas, but so far had not had the opportunity until now. She had heartfelt thoughts of her own father who had played his piano for her, and these stayed always in her memory. Thinking about this idea, she finally did decide to do something about the piano now.

Speaking to Nickolas one morning, she announced, 'I intend to purchase a piano as soon as I am able to, and start practicing music on the piano again darling. I want to be ready for any grandchildren, when and if they arrive. What do you think about this?'

He looked at her carefully and in an amused voice replied. 'My dearest wife if you want to do this, do it now in the church, and I'm sure God and everyone would be delighted to hear you. Why wait until the grandchildren are born? I would love to hear you, so amaze me. If you've ever tried that before, and no-one booted you out, I am sure we can put up with it,' then watched her face for her reaction to his unexpected comments.

After his pert remark she pulled a face at him, giving him a slap on his arm, so he continued, 'Of course having a good piano would be useful. I used to play a little as a young man at the Mission house, and it would be great for me to resume playing again.'

At this disclosure she looked quite startled never having known he could play, but she hugged him. With a wicked smile, his eyes twinkling, he continued, 'If you are so rusty from not practising, go out on the canoe and have a go at yodelling in the bay to your heart's content. I know you could do that, and no doubt we will hear your voice anywhere, however it sounds my dearest.'

She knew he was teasing her, but with a quirky gaze at him she disputed his remark. 'Alright Sir Nickolas, but you have not heard me yodel have you? If I have to paddle out to the bay and try to yodel at the same time, all the fish will leave the area. I am sure the local men won't like that, unless you come along too do the paddling and distract the fish first, with your blessings.'

With a wide grin showing across his face, he retorted, 'Why of course, my dearest Patches. Even God blessed the loaves and fishes.' still laughing at her comments he added, 'At least we should not sink, with the Lord behind me as I paddle, and a cheeky woman yodelling her heart out!'

Knowing he rarely addressed her as Patches, they were overtaken with contagious laughter which filled the room as they embraced. Their hearts were full of emotion with the knowledge that they could share these silly thoughts, and their true love was the best gift God could have ever bestowed on them. She looked at this splendid God-fearing man she was married to, with his brown twinkling eyes, strong features and slightly silvered hair. He still looked so handsome standing there in his black cassock, and she thought how lucky she was to have found him when she did, and at the right time. Knowing in her heart she must have been guided to his side when arriving there those many years back during the war.

While watching her he held her hand tightly then sat down, so happy and thankful she had come into his life. As he admired her strength and beauty and could see the love that glowed in her eyes, he knew their feelings for each other were strong and could overcome anything in their path. Perhaps, even the unusual fact of his wife yodelling in the bay!

An amusing thought he did not mention to her was, if he said too much now, she might actually take to him with her paddles, and this nearly triggered another attack of laughter in him. Then the picture of his wife Patchula attempting to chase him around the beach while wielding paddles, made him chuckle to himself. How the villagers would laugh and probably never forget it. But them, would they come to his services after seeing that display? Villagers could be superstitious about some things, particularly strange and unheard of events like that which involved their Minister.

Delighted with making her decision, the new modern piano was ordered and would be delivered sometime within the next three weeks. Patches was looking forward so much to this, she would walk around their house and yard just humming to herself, getting ready for her first practise of singing after the long break away. Though she knew for the present, her eagerness had to be curbed for a while.

### CHAPTER 22

#### A SURPRISE AND DECISIONS

A few days later on Sunday evening, just after they had eaten an early dinner, Nickolas had returned to his office to check on the details of tomorrow's work. Going over some papers and deep in thought, he was abruptly distracted, as for a minute he believed he could hear the radio turned on playing a song. This sound was unusual to hear at this time of the evening. Lifting his head up from the paper work he was working through, he listened, trying to hear the words, finding they were not readily familiar to his ears. Why he wondered, was any music playing at this hour just before bedtime? Only he and Patches were there in the house, as Joseph had his own place further down the road.

Curious and getting up from his desk, he quietly entered the front room where the stereogram stood on the side table, to find it was playing music, a slow old piece he had not heard for years, but with the volume turned up. He listened more carefully, wondering if this voice was coming from outside, somewhere nearby. Impossible he decided, who else could be singing like that? Leaving the lounge by the side door, he cautiously walked around the front and side yards, looking and finding nothing there, until he moved to the back of the house where that voice seemed to be close and a little louder.

Still listening he peered out to the back yard, and there to his amazement, standing not far from the house out on the lawn, was his wife Patchula, singing a song with so much feeling. She had her head turned away and up a little, and this wonderful song echoed into the air around the house. No one else was there, just his wife singing with this amazing voice. Nickolas stopped dead in his tracks, realising she was oblivious to anything around, her voice rising with such glorious perfection. So overwhelmed was he, his heart ached inside his chest for the wondrous beauty of hearing his wife Patchula singing beautifully like that.

He choked up with emotion when he recognized the song, an old one which expressed so much feeling in the words. Many years back, he remembered a popular vocalist who often used to broadcast this song during the war ages back, and it was called, 'The Very Thought of You.' He even remembered that at the time the man who sang that song was named Tony Bennett, but he was not certain of this. Now he was sure of this when remembering the song, as the beautiful words were so poignant, and full of love. Standing there, he was not only overcome but speechless. Soon Patches finished her song, and was making her way back to the house, when she suddenly noticed Nickolas standing very still in the evening light near the house. Startled, she stopped as it was so unexpected!

Astonished at his presence she called out, 'What is it dear, is something wrong?' but he never moved, his eyes were on her, wanting so much for her to be held close to him.

When he did not reply again she asked, now in a worried voice, 'Nickolas are you alright, my darling. What is the matter?'

Recovering his composure, he answered with such a deep intensity in his voice, more than she had ever heard before. 'The matter my dear Patchula, is that I have the most incredible wife in the world, who sings like an angel with a sensational voice, and I was not aware of this wonderful gift!'

For a minute Patches was rather embarrassed by his rhetoric, and hurried across to quickly put her hand across his mouth, plying kisses all around the side of his face. He moved his head trying to pull her hand away from his mouth but she slowly whispered in his ear, 'Oh Nickolas, no more nice words darling, but thank you for them. You see I am sure the fish will not mind my singing to them after all, as I am not that bad, am I?'

At her sassy remark he nodded no, and they both broke down laughing at each other, as he hugged her. Then linking his arm through hers he swung her round and round, dancing there on the lawn. During this unprecedented action, Patches quickly glanced away to the sides of the yard, to make sure that none of the local village people could see their Minister and his wife 'acting the goat' on their back lawn. They would think the both of them had gone stark raving mad, but thankfully, no one was there to see them. When this dancing had finished, they just stood and laughed at each other while they embraced.

Serious now he asked her curiously, 'I had no idea you could sing like that. Why haven't you ever sung for us before? It was glorious to hear, and God has been so good to us one more.' he said looking upwards to heaven as he spoke. 'This beautiful voice of yours must be heard by everyone here on the island!'

She quietly replied, 'My darling, there has never been enough time to sing before now, between everything we have been achieving here and family responsibilities. Perhaps that might change, and with some more practice I could entertain the children, and of course, even the fish! You never know my voice might attract them into the lagoon, God willing! The local fishermen would love that too.' as an impish grin flashed across her face.

At her feisty retort, his wonderful smile lit up his face, and she could see the joy and happiness shining in his eyes. How lucky they both were to be there together enjoying this wonderful, loving private moment. She felt so gloriously happy and clung to his hand tightly, delighted at his appreciation of her singing. This response was more than she could have ever hoped for. Within a few weeks after the new piano had arrived, they found time for wonderful evenings which began at their home. When trying his hand at the piano, Nickolas found it was not too hard to remember the keys, so he would accompany Patches with some of the songs he knew while she sang. It seemed that music in the house refreshed their lives once more, seeing almost all their family had left. Later he told her he remembered hearing the song she sang during the war years so long ago.

She was so thrilled when hearing his words, and she searched for more of those songs she'd previously sung when performing in public those many years back. Now when she sang mainly at home, they were some of the most beautiful love songs from those days 'Yours', 'Love Here is my Song', 'It's Wonderful Wonderful,' 'You Belong to My Heart'. These songs were so special to them both, and Nickolas loved to hear the words. They reminded him of the special the times they sat on the beach alone together, treasuring those hours.

She also encouraged Lenina to sing some of those beautiful songs as well, hoping that Joseph would not mind. There was one religious one they both loved, and she sang that in the church services, 'Just A Closer Walk With Thee'. Deeply feeling the impact of those words, she told Nickolas it bought her so closer to God. She then asked Lenina to try singing that lovely song in church one Sunday, but Lenina felt a bit shy and asked Patches to give her some time to practice. Nickolas arranged for his wife to sing, and not only in church. He would gather all the village children together and ask her to sing simple songs to them that they could learn, as none of them ever heard many modern songs. Villagers here rarely had access to radio or any musical instruments, so it took a while for Patches to find some easy music with words to teach them. Most of the villagers were shy, but they tried to do their best at learning the words and the music.

When first hearing his Mother singing, a surprised Joseph came to her exclaiming,'Mother, how is it possible you had hidden that wonderful gift and not let us hear it before now. We are indeed blessed to have a mother with so many talents. Yes Mum, I am impressed!'

To hear Joseph say so much was extremely unusual, and she could not help retaliating with a quirky smile. Kissing him on his cheek she said, 'Darling boy, at least there is something about me you do like.' He looked surprised, then realising she was joking he chuckled, 'Why not Mother, at least that is one of the many good things we can be proud of.'

Now Patches did feel embarrassed and gave him a hug him. Joseph also decided it would be good if someone could teach music to the children and older teenagers, and suggested this to Patches who agreed. Also, because he had a good sense of beat, he decided to improve his abilities and try out this new idea. With help from his mother, he sent away for some small musical instruments, two guitars, a light fiddle, a xylophone, a trumpet, a few harmonicas and a small set of drums. Now with the new piano to use, he nearly had an orchestra assembled. His mother approved his ideas and she knew this would help all the children understand the notes after they were shown them, and heard them played. The children were so excited and within a short time various sounds, not all pleasant but some discordant, echoed through the air on different days. Though they were not all in tune, nobody cared for a start, as it would take some weeks to be organized.

A few months later, Joseph was ordained, and he and Jenina made plans to be married. It was a sincere simple ceremony which pleased his parents, and afterwards they had a few days off to go over to the next island and stay there, enjoying the shops etc. When their eldest son Pieter came home for his holidays from the University, he brought with him a young lady who was doing similar courses to his. She was a quiet pretty, golden haired, clever young woman named Trisha, who intended to be a nurse, but later decided to take on Midwifery. Then she was going to train as a Gynaecologist, which was a benefit where ever she went. Nickolas and Patches were quite surprised as Pieter had never mentioned having a girlfriend, having always kept many things to himself. They welcomed the both of them as they shared their experiences of the University and what they did in their spare time.

One evening when speaking to his parents, he asked them, 'You know Dad, if I am successful in attaining my Doctor's Degree, I have noticed that with the progress of science, there are so many branches available to be able to choose from. Whether I should be an ordinary Doctor, or specialize in different fields is hard to decide. What do you think?'

Nickolas sat there, his mind pondering over his son's question, as he knew whatever answer he gave, it would matter to his son. He looked at him, seeing a tall, well-built young man with blue eyes, and fair hair curled in at the nape of his neck, the same way that Nickolas always wore his hair. He was proud of him and in a minute he replied, 'Pieter, you alone have to make up your mind as to whatever field you are really good at. One that you enjoy and want to persevere with. If that interests you, and you are certain the one you chose will fulfil your deep desire to be a good Doctor or Specialist, then you can go further with your choice. There is nothing wrong with being an ordinary 'G.P' doctor. The world cannot do without them, my boy.'

Pieter looked at his father, realising the message in his words. 'Thanks Dad. You have given me 'food for thought' as is said. When we return I'll discuss this with Trisha and the mentors at the University. Thank you so much.'

Walking over to his father he leaned down, hugged him firmly and shook his father's hand. He was contented with his decisions! After talking to them for many days before the young couple left for Australia, Nickolas knew Pieter was doing well at the University with his ambitions to be a Doctor, and they were pleased. Also the fact that Trisha seemed to be very close to him, possibly more than a friend, was a thought that passed through their minds. On reflection, Patches decided that her children each turned out to be perceptive in their own ways, and she said a special prayer to God asking for his blessing on her family. Tia and David arrived home now and when they finished all their study, they both ended up working at the Research Centre on the main island.

Nickolas made an observation, 'It's amazing that we adopted three wonderful children from an orphanage, not aware who their parents were, and yet, all are so different. Look how talented they turned out. We are so lucky my darling.' Flashing a quick grin, he concluded with 'Of course, having us for parents, how could they fail,' and at this remark she was astounded as he rarely said much, but smiled, knowing aside from the joking in his remark, there was some truth in his words.

She knew, if one follows one's heart and lives a good life, God will always help and be with you. Adopted children could be ordinary children or worse, growing up with a 'chip on their shoulders' as many of them do. When one does not know their real parents, it is a gamble one has to take in life, without knowing the results until later. She finally decided just to live the rest of her life with her loving, remarkable and blessed husband and family, continuing on to be happy parents knowing their children had turned out, to be good, sensible accomplished Christian adults in their own right. What she and Nickolas had accomplished over these many years gave them nothing to regret, but she thought that one should never take things for granted. Life can change in an instant.

Patches continued on with the extra work of music and singing, and giving her husband a hand whenever he needed the help. Daily she kept going out in the little boat across the lagoon to the reef with her camera, or sometimes paddling further out where she photographed the sea birds diving for fish. If a larger species flew overhead, or dolphins turned or twisted high above the waves, it was a thrill to catch a photo of them, finding new challenges for her camera other than the reef. Knowing how to print out these photographs as she had learned many years back was an incentive, as she'd hurry back to the beach and her home to do this, keen to see the results of her work. These would be placed in her album for the future grandchildren, as she hoped. This was to be their future.

As the months passed, the seasons appeared to be different to the normal ones they were used to, bringing wild storms and rough seas. Later they heard over the radio that in other countries, earthquakes filled the skies with ash, and the land and sea with the red hot lava. This news caused both Nickolas and Patches to worry, knowing how many hundreds of people were displaced or killed during these events. Some bad earthquakes occurred recently, on an island farther up North in the Pacific near Tonga, and Patches was once again concerned. It brought back memories she had completely dismissed from her mind, of her childhood and everything that had occurred then.

The earthquakes were likely to occur anywhere in the world, even some under the sea in the deep trenches. She knew in the geography learned at school as a young girl about the disasters of undersea plates moving, but this had never worried her at all for years while here on these islands. There was no need for these in this area. After confiding her worries to Nickolas he reassured her and they disappeared from her mind. A few weeks later on a beautiful sunny day and having caught up with her work, Patches decided to go out on one of her rowing expeditions in the bay.

Without bothering to tell Nickolas as she usually did, she picked up her camera, dragged the boat into the water to set out for the middle of the bay. She intended to go closer across to the rocky headland and take some photos, but for now, she just slowly pulled on the oars rowing away from the jetty onto the quiet blue seas surrounding her. It was peaceful though the boat rocked a bit, but she was a strong rower and it did not bother her at all. Being a lovely warm day with the sun shining halfway across the blue sky, the tide seemed to be the same as normal except for a few subtle undercurrents.

She felt free and happy as she always did when out on the water, looking up at the birds dipping in and out of the sea, searching for bait fish. She felt so relaxed in the sun, constantly searching around for opportunities to take some good pictures. Stopping midway across the bay, she sat there with her camera taking photographs of the lagoon and the nearby headland with many rock formations. Though there were some changes in the water movements around, Patches never took any notice as these always caused the boat to sway. She was too busy with her camera. Then she stopped to watch the many coloured fish swimming around under the water not far below the surface. The changing colours of the water as it reflected the sky and clouds always fascinated her, as did the frothy white crests of the waves breaking onto the rocks and beaches.

Every now and then she would glance towards the shore to check whether anyone back there was going in for a swim, or was walking along on the beach. She looked across to the headland and around the shoreline, then further along the bay where blue-green waters reflected the sunlight. Everything seemed peaceful and calm.

### CHAPTER 23

#### DESTINY IS UNPREDICTABLE

While moving the boat constantly, she was surprised when all of a sudden the birds who had been fishing nearby for food became agitated, and flew around everywhere calling out. Without any obvious reason, they all very hastily flew away. Curious about this, she wondered why, never sure whether this was the month or season of the year when they have that inbuilt response to fly a long distance away elsewhere, as hundreds of species do at certain seasons. Always busy, Patches had never tried to understand or follow the habits of native birds and fish. Turning her head she checked the beach to see if Nickolas had left for the church, knowing he had been going over his sermon.

Not seeing him she slowly rowed the boat out further. Pausing for a minute, just gently rocking away in the boat, she leaned over the side to run her fingers over the water, while watching the coloured fish swimming around and under the boat. Many times she noticed a few brightly coloured smaller fish that rarely were there, then strangely, within a few minutes they too vanished. For a minute she decided this was odd, but when thinking perhaps the weather was going to change, she looked up at the sky. At first there was little to see, but away in the distance, low on the horizon she noticed it was quickly filling with black clouds, beginning to look a bit ominous. This must be why the birds and fish have suddenly vanished? _We must be going to have a storm,_ she guessed, though the sea was gently flowing past. _Oh damn it,_ she thought, _I might as well go back to the beach soon, as we may be in for a few showers._

Disappointed, she put her camera in its case in preparation for making her way back, but really did not want to leave yet, it was such a gorgeous day. When normally taking photos of the scenery, water and birds, she rarely just stopped to enjoy what was there right in front of her. Such beautiful scenery, and the amazing vastness of the ocean. So now for a few minutes this is what she did. It was lovely and so relaxing with a gentle breeze rocking the boat, and this made her sleepy, forgetting about the possibility of changing weather. The sun shone on her back warming her body increasing her intense desire to sleep. Closing her eyes, she sat there in the rocking boat, lulled into a sense of peace. Her mind wandered, her eyes were heavy, and closing them she faded way into a dream. There were no sounds other than the lapping of the water against the sides of the little boat.

Back in the house, Nickolas had earlier heard a warning being broadcast of a disturbance at sea, much further north in the Pacific Ocean, but being busy he did not bother to take much notice of it at first. A short time later, while he was reading papers in the office, it was repeated once more over the radio. When hearing this again, it suddenly registered and he abruptly sat up to listen The weather bureau was warning all the islands in the southern Pacific ocean of a possible earthquake out at sea, which would bring dangerous conditions to many islands. These were approaching certain areas, and they mentioned some of the islands north of them, but also this disturbance could change, if the severity of the underwater earthquake increased. If this happened, it would produce a huge rise in the height of the ocean and become a Tsunami wave.

Abruptly startled at this potential development, he jumped to his feet, deciding this situation might be dangerous if it ever travelled closer. Walking outside he called out and informed the villagers nearby. The older natives would have to tell the elders and someone has to ring the warning bell, which had not been used for many years. It was only a precaution, but necessary if this Tsunami ever came down this way. He called out and summoned the village elders to come and hear this warning. Just now, it did not seem quite as urgent as the warning suggested.

Unbeknown to Nickolas, just a few days before, two of the very old men from the village ventured out announcing to the people they had seen signs of very bad omens. As usual, the villagers were complacent not bothering to take any notice, so no-one informed their Minister. The old men kept on warning the villagers, until some younger cheeky youths told them they were being stupid and go back into their huts. Still Nickolas was not aware of this. He went back inside to listen for the next warning, waiting until it came across.

Ah yes, the situation had changed, and the earth quake intensified with the dangerous wave developing, spreading out in many directions. Now heading across the ocean, it was definitely coming down towards the areas where their island was situated. Nicolas became extremely alarmed, and standing on the veranda he immediately called a loud warning to any of the villagers close by and sent a bell ringer to quickly do his work. Striding down onto the path towards the main gathering hall near the beach, he hastily informed the village men of the imminent danger ahead. Then he raced down to the nearby classrooms where all the children were gathered in different rooms, and Nickolas called out urgently to Joseph. Within minutes, Joseph began to escort the excited children along the bush tracks to safer higher locations well behind these buildings.

Immediately the warning bell which not used for years echoed around the village, and the startled villagers knew this only occurred when great danger might occur. All hastily collected some belongings together, and began to hurry, running across the sandy beaches to higher ground on the hill beyond the rainforest. All the people young and old went as fast as they could, moving towards the high land of the tropical rain forest, behind the village. There was no time to collect up more, and the native islanders murmured between themselves, many fearful for the first time in their lives. When turning around to go back to the house, Nickolas looked out to sea to check the movement of the water, noticing a small boat way out. Unexpected chills ran down his spine and he was shocked to the core.

'Oh my God in heaven, that has to be Patchula's, boat,' he cried, realising his wife was out there in the bay not aware of the oncoming danger.

He could not believe this was happening. Ashamed and horrified at his forgetfulness at not looking for her earlier, he raced down to the beach noticing as he did, that the water was beginning to slowly recede, drawing back away from the edges of their precious sandy beach. There was the sign of only one danger, and realising its meaning, in desperation he cried out, 'God Oh God, please help me!'

Frantically, as he ran he yelled out loudly and repeatedly across the bay to his wife, waving his arms to her. 'Patches, Patches my dearest, listen to me. You are in great danger, get away from there.'

Though his voice carried these words of warning, they were unheard by his wife. Of course, being so far away, she could not hear his voice, but while dozing she did hear the warning sounds of the alarm bell ringing, echoing across the bay. Stirring herself she turned around to see why it had rung, then noticed Nickolas waving frantically to her. Thinking he was doing this in fun, she waved back but never once did she wonder why. She kept on waving to him then decided to return and paddle in, so she picked up the oars and began rowing. Still wondering why the bell had been rung, then looking back, it was then she noticed in the distance, villagers were running everywhere. Leaving their huts they all disappeared into the rainforest and this was strange she thought. Obviously something had frightened them.

Unexpectedly she saw Joseph waving desperately to her also, which was odd as he'd never done that before. _Whatever is wrong?_ she thought. Then she heard the loud sound of Nickolas's voice, yelling across the water, calling out to her, so she stopped rowing to listen. _Goodness, what is wrong with Nickolas, is someone hurt?_ Still not aware of the danger far out in the ocean, she did not notice anything out of place, and just stood up in the rocking boat waiting to find out. Behind her, out in the ocean, a dreaded Tsunami wave was quickly gathering strength, steadily moving in towards their island.

Nickolas had raced swiftly along the jetty, his heart beating furiously noticing that the tide had receded back. He knew that wide, deadly mountain of surging water was heading directly towards them in the bay. Reaching the far end of the jetty, he dived into the water frantically trying to reach his wife. Swimming crazily but furiously towards the boat, his arms moved like pistons, his mind racing, as a fearful dread flooded his veins. Seeing this, Patches again decided he was playing around, attempting to join her as he sometimes did. She stood there laughing at him for a few minutes, enjoying the fun. Standing up in the boat as it rocked sideways, she almost lost her balance and clung to the sides, a happy smile on her face while watching Nickolas swimming desperately towards her boat.

She became puzzled at his urgency, and the speed at which his arms were striking out through the water, when with a sudden awful instinct she heard an unusual noise. It was a strong but strange sound behind her, and immediately she was conscious that something was not right. Balancing in the boat, she turned around to look back at the ocean, and her heart nearly stopped! Not far out, she could see a huge, foam crested wall of water spread across the ocean, swelling and travelling fast, getting much closer. She knew that soon it would swamp her boat, and almost frozen with fear, she hurriedly glanced back to see how close Nickolas was. Realising now why he was swimming out to warn her and for a minute she could not think, her mind paralysed with fear.

'Oh my God, heaven help me,' she said out aloud, 'this cannot be possible,' as it looked like a Tsunami wave, and cold slivers of fright enveloped her body. Surely that is not what I think it is, hoping with all her heart it was not true. _Dear God not again,_ she thought shuddering! The little boat rocked and wavered on the water as she stood unmoving, fearful. When seeing how far the massive wave stretched across the entire width of the ocean, and only a short distance out, she knew that terrifying wall of water was aimed right here where her boat rocked in the water. Where in heavens name had this come from? In that first instant she couldn't believe it was actually happening to her again, and her mind became numb. Panic froze her body, as the little boat rocked violently in the water with Patches hanging onto the sides.

Horrified, then suddenly alert, she quickly looked to see where Nickolas was. _Oh, dear God, what can I do?_ her mind screamed out. By now exhausted and anxious, Nickolas had reached the little boat and firmly grasping the sides he frantically called to her above the noise of the approaching water. His voice was hoarse with worry and his eyes filled with terrible trepidation as the dangerous wave was moving so close, only a short distance away from the boat where they were.

His face showing his intense feelings, and with a voice strained with anxiety, he told her while rising and falling with the pull of the waves. 'Behind you my darling, is a Tsunami wave and we won't reach the beach in time. Patchula, Patches my darling, jump out now and swim with me for your life.' Taking a quick breath and swallowing some water he said, 'For God's sake my dearest, quick, hurry, it's almost too late. I tried to call you but you didn't hear me.'

At his first words she had jumped into the swirling water beside him, and her heart raced as he exclaimed, 'Quickly, we must swim for our lives and make for the headland, it's closer. Patchula I love you, my dearest beautiful wife, I love you!' while reaching out for her.

Patches was determined as she thought, _I'm not going to drown now, especially after knowing Nickolas had come all that way to save me. Only God knows what will happen to us!_

Swimming fast in the fierce turbulence of the waters, her arms stretched out keeping pace with Nickolas nearby doing the same, making in the direction of the headland. The tide sucked them backwards with the terrible grip of the undersea current, so hard to push against. Though she has always been a very good swimmer, the chilling thought of what was overtaking them horrified her, but having Nickolas there swimming alongside gave her the strength and courage to continue on. Fighting the powerful strength and the overwhelming pull of the undersea current, she found her eyes were stinging, full of the salty water. Stretching out her arms to swim and taking short breaths in between each stroke, she sucked in watery mouthfuls, realizing her arms were tiring. Then she remembered she'd not swum any distance for months, just those short times with Nickolas. _Dear God,_ she asked herself, _am I going to drown out here in this horror?_ faintly remembering the first one she had gone through as a child.

By now she and Nickolas had swum closer to the headland, but the incredible force of the enormous wave kept dragging them backwards. Nickolas glanced behind him and could see that gigantic wave which had been far away, had gathered so much speed it was too close, nearly overhead. Towering above them like a green demon, its curling foamy crest spread out and up towards the sky. The surging foam covered wave was ready to engulf and destroy anything in its path. Frantically, Nickolas turned towards Patches and pulled her into his arms, though almost too late! The gigantic, green and white crested wall of water was descending down upon them, swirling and foaming along its entire length.

Feeling her husband's arms wrapped tightly around her, the last thing Patches heard before she was enclosed in the deadly grasp of the wave, was Nickolas's hoarse voice in her ear. 'Breathe in quickly through your mouth my darling,' he told her then pressing his face hard against hers, his mouth clamped down on her lips breathing more air into her lungs. Patches wrapped her arms tightly around his chest as the terrifying sound of twisting, torrents of suffocating, swirling salt water filled her eyes and ears. The noise was deafening. Tons of the heavy, vicious wave pulled at their bodies while she desperately sucked in short breaths through her husband's lips. Then they vanished underneath the surface, tossed around repeatedly, over and over and down like defenceless objects while clinging together. Not even the wrath of a Tsunami wave could tear them apart. Dragged into the depths of the ocean, the power and the strength of this mighty towering water swept them away, as it continued onto whatever was before it, covering all in its destructive path.

The island, foreshores, beaches and rainforests were swallowed, torn apart and destroyed as it swamped all before in its forceful path. Ocean and nature had once more taken control of its own world, regardless of whatever man had tried to change. It was a force all of its own reckoning, and none dare to stand in its way!! Over the next few days when the danger was over, his son Joseph and most of the villagers and their families returned to find wreckage of the village scattered everywhere, all over the beach and behind the remains of the forest for miles around. Furniture and belongings were completely destroyed, and an appalling amount of damage had been done to everything.

It was noticed afterwards that many of the new structures built a few years back did withstand the destructive violence of the waves, due to the strong building codes, foundations and extra protection which Patchula the Ministers wife, had insisted on at the time. This dreadful Tsunami would never be forgotten, because large groups of nearby islands were devastated and hundreds of the villagers had been drowned. So many were missing, it took ages before the damage was estimated, or the amount of people taken by the enormous wave. The shock of the disaster reverberated around the world for many months as grief took over.

Joseph searched frantically for days almost giving up, until the bodies of his father Nickolas the Minister and his wife Patches were eventually discovered around the far side of the island. They were found on a distant headland beach in amongst the sands and wrecked trees of the foreshore. Amazingly still clinging tightly together in death, arms wrapped around each other, but to everyone's wonder, their faces showed an expression of peace. They would never know that destiny had changed their lives too soon, and forever. These two wonderful loving human beings found a new eternal existence given to them by the blessed hand of God. Life had turned a full circle for Patches or Patchula, a good woman, and her dearest husband lover and soul mate, Nickolas Morakai.

The news of their deaths rocked the islands everywhere, and all the native islanders mourned and wept for days. Their eldest son Pieter, his partner Trisha, and daughter Tia and her husband David, returned for their parents funeral service after the Tsunami to grieve and be there for their brother Joseph. It was to be held on the beach outside the remains of the little church. All the inhabitants of the other towns on the nearby islands arrived, as did the Bishop, leading church Dignitaries, Government Officials and other island residents who made a special trip up from New Zealand to attend the service.

The little church was filled with flowers brought over from other islands, and the people gathered around and overflowed outside and across the sandy small beach left after the disaster. Joseph the younger son, an ordained Minister, had told the Bishop about his parents life and the countries they were born in. He now stood near this Dignitary from the country New Zealand, in which his father Nickolas a Maori, was born in. Joseph spoke first, his voice saddened but strong as he mentioned how long his parents Nickolas and Patchula had lived here, and of their great lasting love for each other.

Then he talked about their determination to get things done, and their devotion to their family. How over the years here they had improved the living and existence of the residents and children, with new ideas, teaching and music, bringing the spirit of togetherness to all the people. He also mentioned that his Mother had been known as a nurse, a great photographer and singer in America, before and during the war, and that here both his parents had loved the island and the people.

Joseph stood down and the Bishop gazed at all the people gathered around, and speaking through a set up microphone, he began his talk about the strength of the couples religious beliefs and how this had changed so many lives. Then a Government Official from the other island explained about all the amazing constructions and various buildings which had been assembled on both islands, to improve the life of the people and the future generations of these islands, particularly that of advancing medical science.

Pieter stood up, tall and resplendent in a white suit which he wore at the Hospital, and reminded them of the wonderful Schools, Hospitals and Research Centre, and the Orphanage which his mother had established, all invaluable much needed institutions, well-known and fulfilling. Then Pieter remarked on the fact of the Research Centre is the only one for hundreds of miles around and very progressive in modern medical research. Not able to speak anymore he sat down his head bowed in grief as his wife consoled him. Their only daughter Tia could not speak, she was sobbing deeply, much too distressed. Her husband David stood close to her his arms held around her trembling body, and even he was moved by her tears and the strong emotion which filled the room and outside in the gathered people who had come to the ceremony.

For a short while a small service was carried out, and everyone stood silent, then the small choir of the village children sang 'What A Friend We Have In Jesus' which Joseph had taught them. Everyone knew those two wonderful Christian human beings were loved by all they met, and would be deeply missed. There was not a dry eye anywhere. The music of 'Just A Closer Walk With Thee' was played as Lenina, Joseph's wife sang the lovely words which Patchula had taught her. Prayers were again offered while the Bishop finished with the blessing. They slowly left the church, proceeding to the burial site amongst the palm trees further back from the shore. The cool breezes wafted around, but only the sound heard was of the gentle waves caressing the beach.

Here they gathered around to honour the couple, as all listened to the words of, 'Love, Here Is My Song,' a particular favourite of Patchula and Nickolas. This record was played on a new radiogram which belonged to some friends who had bought it over here for the service. As the beautiful words of love floated across the gathering, it brought many to tears as their meanings filled the air.

Tia again broke into sobs and clung to David, and even the sons of Nickolas and Patches were affected by that song. All the family threw flowers on to the coffins before they were lowered into the grave beside each other, as they had been in life, always together in harmony with deepest love for each other. The incredible love their parents shared was now spoken about by Joseph over the grave. 'My father Nickolas had often proudly told his flock how he and his beautiful wife Patchula, known affectionately to all as Patches, were destined to meet in the eyes of God, to love and care for each other until death do us part,' and the truth and impact of those beautiful words would be never forgotten by anyone gathered there.

The Maori Bishop blessed the headstone, and threw holy water onto the grave expressing the words,' Earth to Earth, as you are both at one with God.' he stood back and gazed at the headstone before him, then slowly blessed it making the figure of the cross over the surface. Crying could be heard from the gathered villagers and tears flowed incessantly, from the family, and for a few minutes, no-one spoke. One by one, everyone passed by to read what was written on the headstone, which was carved in the shape of a large opened Bible. Across the top of the bible a pair of hands were linked together, and there displayed for all to see were the beautiful words written on the bible pages.

IN MEMORY OF MINISTER NICKOLAS

MORAKAI AND HIS LOVING WIFE

PATCHULA TIA MORAKAI

THEY WERE BORN OF GOD AND DIED

WITH HIS LOVE IN THEIR HEARTS.

THEY WILL ALWAYS BE REMBERED.

Many of the senior staff and council members brought wreaths of flowers afterwards to be placed on the graves, and now the native villagers began to show their grief. Moaning and wailing filled the air while they laid palm leaves and tropical flowers all around the grave, then sat on the sands nearby, moving from side to side. The whole ceremony was very poignant for everyone. Nearly all the congregation and visitors returned to the main house for refreshments, discussing the two people who had made such an impression on so many. Then it was time for guests to leave the island.

The distressed family stood there talking to the Bishop and the Council and later before they left, as arrangements were made for them in lieu of their parents, to discuss the future and the success of the Research Centre and the Orphanage when it was possible. The families of Nickolas and Patchula will always recall something their father had said many years before about their mother. If you persevere you will succeed. Patches had her dreams, and she fulfilled them.

THE END

#### ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Photo 15/6/2015 and she's still kicking!!

The author Lesley June Mooney (nee Hubbard) of mixed English/European blood, was born in the early thirties in Perth W.A. during the Depression. Educated there at boarding colleges until aged fifteen; then with her father and brother they travelled by train to Nullagine making their way to work at Roy Hill station. This was followed by three days in a mail truck, Dad in the front and the children out the back sitting up high on top of the stores. This was the first of three outback properties in which she enjoyed an interesting life. A short break followed in Wyndham, and over three years clerical service in Darwin and Sydney, then back to Perth.

When aged twenty one, Lesley was asked to cook at a cattle station in North Queensland, totally inexperienced, then cook and care for an elderly man while helping the bush nurse at Mackinley. She met her husband Ernie and they moved to Mackay to live and work in his various building trades, and run a dairy, but he became ill for two years. Later while a plasterer/carpenter he also managed a bull stud property. They had six children: five girls and one son. Ernie leased a country hotel for six years, where Lesley did the accounts, worked as a barmaid and did the cooking until they returned to the bull stud. Her brother Bradley started his outback business but died while on holiday in Perth. Lesley combined working in two businesses until 1989 when she moved to a small hill property at Habana which she landscaped for seven years with family help. Their only son, also named Bradley, was killed in an accident in 1987 aged twenty one, and Lesley's father died in 1985 aged 84. Lesley and Ernie eventually moved into town, their family helping in every way, before Ernie passed away.

As a Taurean, she is a creative lady: an artist, pianist, singer, composer, gardener, and now writer. With years of dancing in all styles, including ballroom and belly dancing, Lesley took pottery, woodwork and screen printing courses at TAFE. At U3A she started a seniors theatre group to give concerts, then a tap dance group who entertained locally. She first wrote up to 480 poems in a seven book series, 'Fragments of The Mind', then began writing novels, gaining experience on the internet. With five novels completed, some self-published and more begun, Lesley continues to write, hoping to be recognised with success while she can still think and see clearly.

#### COPYRIGHT STATEMENT

This is an IndieMosh book

brought to you by MoshPit Publishing  
an imprint of Mosher's Business Support Pty Ltd

PO Box 147  
Hazelbrook NSW 2779

indiemosh.com.au

Copyright © Lesley June Mooney 2017

The moral right of the author has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.

All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the Australian Copyright Act 1968 (for example, fair dealing for the purposes of study, research, criticism or review) no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher.

Cataloguing-in-Publication entry is available from the National Library of Australia: <http://catalogue.nla.gov.au/>

**Title:  
** The Three Lives of One

**Author:  
** Mooney, Lesley June (1931-)

**ISBNs:  
** 978-1-925666-34-2 (paperback)  
978-1-925666-35-9 (ebook - epub)  
978-1-925666-36-6 (ebook - mobi)

This story is entirely a work of fiction. No character in this story is taken from real life. Any resemblance to any person or persons living or dead is accidental and unintentional. The author, their agents and publishers cannot be held responsible for any claim otherwise and take no responsibility for any such coincidence.

Cover design and layout by Ally Mosher at allymosher.com

Cover images from AdobeStock.com and Shutterstock.com
