Elianne by Judy Nunn Page B

Have you never wondered why Michel’s wife and son are not invited to dine?’
    ‘I must confess I hadn’t really given the matter much thought.’ Was it her intention to be provocative? Of course he knew why the man’s wife and son were not invited.
    ‘Michel’s wife is black,’ she said ‘which means that Pavi is a half-caste.’
    ‘I see.’ He kept his response enigmatic in case she thought he hadn’t known that, but he was bewildered. Where exactly is this leading? he wondered.
    ‘Papa despises black people, even his own loyal workers. He disapproves of my friendship with Pavi.’
    Ah, perhaps that’s it, he thought, perhaps she’s testing me. He had no particular antipathy towards the blacks himself, so long as they put in an honest day’s work. His relationship with those he employed at his plantation in Australia was in fact excellent: he looked after them well and they worked hard in return.
    ‘I am of the firm belief,’ he said, ‘that a person’s choice of friend is no one’s business but his own.’ He knew instantly by her reaction that it had been the right response, so he went one step further. ‘Indeed I have many friends amongst the Kanakas I employ at Durham Estate.’ He said it without a qualm, for despite a degree of exaggeration it was not altogether a lie.
    His easy manner inclined her to believe him, although as always the mention of ‘Kanakas’ grated a little. She knew that the term had been in general usage for many years by plantation owners and blackbirders who preferred a common label for all island labourers. And yet Pavi had told her the word ‘kanaka’ simply meant ‘man’ in the Hawaiian language. He considered its general use demeaning, and Elianne agreed, particularly as the term had now been adopted by the colonial authorities. ‘Kanaka’ had become official parlance among government regulators and agents responsible for contracting labourers from many different regions in the Pacific. It was ignorant and patronising, she thought, they should have known better.
    She did not broach the subject, however. What would be the point? Besides, she was enjoying her conversation with James Durham. So much so that she decided to take a very bold step.
    ‘I’ve heard that the islanders call you Big Jim,’ she said.
    ‘That’s right.’ How can she possibly know that? he wondered, ‘all my Kanaka workers call me Big Jim; it’s a term of respect.’
    ‘No, I don’t mean your workers; I mean the local islanders, here in the New Hebrides. I’ve heard you’re known to many as Big Jim.’
    ‘You’ve heard that? Have you really?’ She is being unashamedly provocative now – how very interesting, he thought. ‘Ah well,’ he said with a nonchalant shrug, ‘word does tend to get around. Many of my Kanakas come from this region.’
    Was he being deliberately mysterious? He certainly wasn’t giving anything away, but then she had hardly expected that he would. ‘So you consider the nickname flattering?’
    James saw in the green eyes that were boldly appraising him something beyond their obvious challenge, something mischievous. She’s flirting with me, he thought, she’s playing a game.
    ‘Yes, I consider the nickname very flattering,’ he replied. ‘In fact I’ve embraced it wholeheartedly. At home, everyone calls me Big Jim.’
    ‘Am I to call you Big Jim?’ she asked.
    ‘No.’ He was enjoying her flirtatiousness. Women did not flirt with men unless they found them attractive and he wanted her to find him attractive. But he did not join in the game. He did not play games. ‘You are to call me Jim.’
    ‘Very well, Jim.’ Elianne smiled, her eyes not once leaving his. She was aware she was flirting. She had never before flirted and she didn’t know why she was doing it. She didn’t even know exactly what it was she was flirting with. Was it the man himself, or was it the danger he represented? She seemed somehow to be daring herself. ‘And what