by Bowes, K T
“Get out!” Alfred said and his tone held an ancient authority. The mana his mother believed he didn’t have, rose out of him and shrouded him in influence and superiority.
Logan shook his head and tried again to reach for his stricken wife. Alfred’s punch when it came was practiced and well-timed. Reuben Du Rose taught his son guitar, masquerading as a guitar teacher to get near him, but Hana realised that Alfred was his boxing master. It was a boxer’s hit and Logan staggered back in shock. Alfred rubbed the arthritic fingers of his right hand and flexed them gingerly. Then he looked up at the shocked man in front of him, already rubbing at his bruised eye. “I said, get out!”
“She had a child and I didn’t know. I’ve got a son!” Logan’s words sounded agonised, torn from the depths of him.
Hana felt a curious tension build in her forehead, a stress headache spreading out across her face. Her chest tightened and her breath came in short rasps. Hana fought to fill her lungs, wondering if her heart struggled to beat. She tensed, waiting for the pacemaker to kick in and administer the promised electric shock. She dreaded it daily. They told her it wasn’t so bad, like a punch to the chest - not as bad as dying anyway.
Her feet found the floorboards through her socks as time seemed to halt for her. The world spun horribly and she kept her right hand clutched to her left collarbone to protect her from the inevitable shock. Logan’s anguished face danced around her in a fast circle, too fast to be real and Hana saw the bedside table come up to meet her face at a terrific speed. Then nothing. She saw nothing, heard nothing and felt nothing. Except her child. She sensed the tiny being keenly in a linking of souls. It was as though in this strange, surreal world there were just the two of them together. It moved sluggishly in her belly and she felt it, understanding as the blood pumped too quickly through the umbilical cord that it struggled, just like her.
Chapter 9
“Is she gonna to be ok?”
Hana recognised Logan’s scared voice and wanted to call out to him that she was fine. Then she remembered - he didn’t love her anymore and her head silenced her seeking, hopeful, foolish heart. Hana lay on the squashy bed in mute silence. She heard Phoenix asking Leslie for a biscuit with an impassioned “Peees Nonie, choc-choc one,” and felt cool hands on her forehead. Thinking it was Logan, she pushed them away.
“Back in the land of the living, Mrs Du Rose?”
The voice belonged to the local doctor. He practised in the Rangiriri township and Hana took Phoenix to see him once with a strange rash that turned out to be an allergy to tinned tuna fish. Hana said nothing, turning her face away from his striking Samoan features and watching dusk settle on the native bush. Where had the day gone? “Has your pregnancy been checked out by a doctor?” the kind man asked, sitting his rounded bottom down on the bed next to Hana. She nodded but the effort to speak evaded her. “Your blood pressure spiked this afternoon. That’s really dangerous for you and your baby. It’s getting back to normal now, but I’m not happy with you. It’s important you avoid stress for a while if you can, otherwise you’ll end up in hospital.”
Hana sighed, comforted by the numbness that whispered it would take care of her. She believed in God and hoped it was him. Her first words were croaky and rattled from her chest as Hana grasped the doctor’s hands in one of hers. “How can I get away from him?” she asked, looking nervously at Logan’s dark shape in the doorway. “Can you help me?”
The doctor widened his hazel eyes in alarm and Hana realised it wasn’t just him and her. They were all there, Alfred over by the window and Leslie nearby, clutching Hana’s daughter. The doctor rose in an awkward, jerky movement, feeling outnumbered in the Du Rose household. “Er...do you feel in danger, Mrs Du Rose?”
Hana nodded slowly, realising she did. Perhaps not physically, but definitely emotionally. She clung to sanity by her fingertips as an old archenemy threatened again. Rejection. She closed her eyes and tried to sort out the curious feeling of need that assailed her spirit. Isobel. She wanted her grown-up daughter. “Can you get in touch with my daughter?” Hana asked the doctor, her speech slow and laboured. He looked across at Phoenix and knitted his brow, perhaps thinking she was delirious. “She lives in Invercargill. I need to go and see her.” Hana heard the pleading in her voice and it made her want to cry with pity for herself. Pathetic.
Relief lit the doctor’s face as a bead of sweat slithered down his cheek. “You can’t travel to Invercargill, not in this state,” he said, putting more surety in his voice than he obviously felt. “You won’t get a certificate to travel on the airline and you’ll put yourself and your baby at terrible risk.”
“I’ll look after her,” Leslie volunteered. “We’ll be moving out of here soon, but until then, I’ll take responsibility for her.”
Hana stole a look at her husband. She expected to see victory but instead witnessed heartbreak. She closed her eyes, feeling nothing for him and glad for the absence of the extreme pain that was only a breath away. It would come, but thankfully not now. The doctor with wooden lips that turned it into a grimace and looked around him, desperate to leave the awful atmosphere. Hana hadn’t finished. “Doctor?”
The man stopped and turned back towards her, dreading whatever it was this woman had the power to unleash. He looked expectant. And terrified. “My husband’s having an affair with an old girlfriend who turned up yesterday. If I should die unexpectedly, please could you make sure everyone knows I was disposed of? The Du Roses do that, you know. They dispose of their problems and bury them.”
The doctor’s eyes were as wide as tennis balls in his head and he left quickly after that. Hana saw Logan’s jaw drop and it made her want to laugh. He looked stupid.
“Want to come with daddy?” Logan held his arms out to Phoenix and Hana’s heart clenched in fear. The denial was on her lips but before it could escape, her daughter did it for her.
“No! Stayin’ mummy.” The little girl sounded petulant and stubborn and Hana knew deep down it was dreadful to use a child as a weapon. Is this what would have happened if Vik had lived? Had she been spared his access visits with Bodie and Izzie and the agonised child-swap in various lay-bys around the Waikato, so that neither of them had to trespass on the other’s new life?
Hana tried to regulate her breathing, thinking as much of her new child as her daughter. She knew she should try and reason with Phoenix. After all, the little girl had two parents and surely this would get easier in time. But the energy to argue evaded her. Logan put his arms by his sides and left the room, taking the angry storm of emotion with him.
“You gave us such a scare!” Now the drama was over, Leslie collapsed in tears, needing Alfred to console her. Phoenix curled up on the bed next to Hana and poked her thumb into her mouth, providing a childlike security. She still wore the white riding hat and it dug painfully into Hana’s upper arm, but she enjoyed the scent of her daughter, wondering how soon Logan would draw the battle lines for custody of her. He could afford the best solicitors and make Hana appear insane.
She tried to block the thoughts from her mind, aware they only fuelled the stress Doctor Seuli told her to avoid. She ran her hand gently over the growing mound under her ribcage and felt a reassuring kick from inside her stomach wall. The baby was happier now. “That wasn’t exactly how I wanted him to find out.” Hana couldn’t bear to say her husband’s name. Leslie shook her head and patted Hana’s shoulder.
“Don’t think about him now. You’ve got us.”
Hana stayed in the spare room of the upstairs apartment for a few days recovering. Leslie minded Phoenix for her, getting someone else to cover her shifts in the hotel. Alfred disappeared for a few days and when he returned, he and Leslie did a lot of whispering in the kitchen. Hana stayed upstairs, watching out of the long windows towards the boundary fence, feeling again Alfred’s anguish over the years he had watched his unfaithful wife make the journey to her lover. “I always knew how that felt.” Hana ran her finger down the condensation, l
eaving a watery trail. “I just never wanted to feel it again.”
Hana was driven from the apartment out of desperation, needing to grab a handy change of clothes. She watched her husband’s new wahine walk around the topiary garden from upstairs and figured she was safe. The code for Logan’s bedroom hadn’t changed in years and Hana pressed the worn keypad, the numbers long since rubbed away. She turned the handle and found herself in a haze of hairspray and perfume which cloyed and blocked the back of her throat. The contents of a beauty parlour were aligned along the dressing table and the bed was rumpled and unmade. “I bet the maids don’t come in here,” she commented into the empty room and then remembering why she was there, hurried across to the tall dresser in the corner. The clothes that should have been there were gone. Hana’s spare jeans and sweaters had been replaced by silky lingerie and thong underwear with as much substance as dental floss.
“Damn it!” Hana cast around, wondering where her stuff could have been put. Another woman’s clothing covered every space which had been Hana’s and the woman’s heart constricted even tighter. On a whim she opened Logan’s drawer, finding his clothes neatly where he left them last time they stayed over. It was pointless being in the room and Hana rubbed her stomach as angst attacked her fragile nerves. Tears rose to the surface at how easily her presence had been expunged and Hana strode over to the door, intending to leave and crawl back up to her attic bedroom.
“What are you doing in my room?” The woman’s voice was like acid, dripping easily from bright pink lips and her eyes were threatening and unhinged.
“What have you done with my clothes?” Hana asked, aware of the sadness in her voice and the way the other woman’s eyes lit up with glee as she tasted victory.
“In the bin.” A perfectly manicured hand pointed in the direction of the dustbin and then Hana saw the hem of a denim pants leg poking out. Anger making her body shake, she walked over, spotting a pretty floral top nestled amongst oozing teabags.
“Why would you do that?” she bit, turning in time to see the woman’s smirk.
“I figured you wouldn’t need them, seeing as I’m sleeping in here with Logan and you’re not. I don’t like the idea of sharing drawer space with his ex. It’s too...gauche.”
“I’m not his ex, I’m his wife!”
The woman smiled openly. “That’s not what he said last night when he slept here with me. In fact, he put your stuff in the bin.”
Hana’s face paled horribly and she felt the familiar pounding of her pulse coursing through her stomach and smashing against the placenta. Her child deserved better than this dreadful scene. Without a word she left the room, abandoning her ruined clothes in the dustbin. She managed to get to the top of the attic stairs before she broke down, trying hard not to cry loudly and give the woman a few metres below, the satisfaction of knowing she had broken her.
For another day Hana hid, unable to face the thought of emerging at the bottom of the apartment steps and running into Logan’s new girlfriend on the landing. Hana convinced herself she was protecting her unborn baby, but knew inwardly that she protected herself. Logan came numerous times to see her, but each time, Leslie sent him away. “Youse don’t come near her!” she threatened him. Hana covered her ears so as not to hear his raised reply.
“Have a bath, kōtiro,” Alfred suggested that evening. “Me and the auld woman’s takin’ moko down for some dinner. Youse enjoy some peace. Leslie has some bath crap somewhere in the cupboard. Use that and freshen yourself up.”
They left, taking an eager Phoenix with them, on a promise of chocolate cake. Isolation crowded in on Hana as soon as the bottom door closed. “You look a right mess,” she told herself, prodding at the swollen skin around her eyes in the mirror. “No wonder he prefers English Barbie. You’re a pregnant blob of tears and snot!”
Hana filled the tin bath tub with bubbles and hot water and soaked until the feeling returned to her bones. It made her rally and find her strength and she sighed and ducked her head fully underneath the water. When she emerged, something unpleasant fell away from her soul and the fog cleared. “You need to go home, Hana,” she told herself. “Whether that’s to pack up or dig in, it’s up to you. But you can’t hide here any longer.”
Hana sauntered through the apartment wrapped loosely in a fluffy lilac towel. Her washed red hair was piled on her head with another towel and she resembled a turbaned princess. She hummed to herself, a melody from Phoenix’s favourite cartoon and she sensed a lightness in her spirit and a renewing of confidence. “God help me,” she whispered to herself. “I know you’re with me in this, but do you think you could maybe lessen the pain somehow?”
God smiled indulgently and refused.
“So this is your little eyrie, is it? High above the world like the crazy wife in the tower.” Her lilting voice made bile rise into Hana’s throat and she coughed on it, almost dropping her towel in confusion. The other woman waved a manicured hand at her as Hana grappled with the soft fabric to hide her modesty. “Oh goodness! Don’t mind me. I’ve seen far worse in old peoples’ homes, darling. Don’t feel you have to hide your wrinkles and faults from me.”
Hana took a deep breath and fought the urge to commit murder. There were little more than five years between them and Hana felt every single one stick into her heart. Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not kill...except in very special circumstances...no, thou shalt not kill.
“You’re surprisingly fat for your build, aren’t you?” The woman waded in with the insults. “Have you tried the gym?”
“I’m...not.”
“Oh it’s fine, darling. It doesn’t matter what shape you are anymore. I have no idea what Logan ever saw in you, but that’s what I’m here to let you know. You and he are done. As soon as the divorce is through, we’ll be married. I’m prepared to accept Logan’s daughter as my own. It’ll be good for our son to have a sibling after all these years. It’s been hard for Ryan, poor sweetheart. We’ll be seeing a solicitor soon and I thought it was only courtesy to warn you. Logan wasn’t bothered. He thought the legal documentation would be clear enough, but I’m of the gentler variety. It’s only fair really.”
Hana’s breathing came in short gasps and she remained silent, not through any force of will but because it took all her energy to work her lungs. “Divorce?” she managed.
“Yes, darling. Don’t take it hard though. It was fairly inevitable under the circumstances. I’m sure Logan will make sure you’re all right financially and perhaps you can see Phoebe a few times a month? I think Logan will work those details out with the legal people.”
“Phoebe?” Hana repeated, as though the woman spoke a different language altogether.
“Yes darling. Remember? Your daughter. Goodness! You do have it bad. Is it alcohol or drugs? Or both?”
“Get out!” Hana managed with effort. “Just get out.”
“Goodbye darling. All the best.” The woman clattered over the floorboards towards the stairs and clumped down them one by one.
With a valiant degree of self-control, Hana succeeded in not rushing after her and giving her an almighty push. But then her wrath found Logan in its sights and by the time Phoenix returned with her grandparents, bearing a bowl of custard and some interesting looking pie for her mother, Hana resembled the crazy lady in the tower in all respects. “I didn’t hear her coming,” Hana sobbed. “I hate Logan. I hate him.”
Despite Leslie’s best efforts, she made no sense of Hana’s ramblings and whispered fearfully to Alfred in bed hours later, “I think she’s going mad like Miriam.”
“Can you take me up to the house?” Hana asked Leslie after four days of seclusion. “I need some things.”
“If you’re sure,” the old woman replied.
They drove up in silence with Phoenix singing softly in the back seat of Alfred’s old Land Rover.
“Do you think she’s been up here...with him?” Hana asked as they pulled up in the driveway.
“No, I don’
t.”
“How do you know?” Hana turned her wide green eyes on Leslie and watched her carefully for the truth.
“Because I’ve been keepin’ an eye on ‘em,” she said. “I don’t think it’s what we first thought. They went up to the airport yesterday to get the boy and when they got back, Logan looked fed up of her. He’s been working real hard to stay out of her way and at night, he comes back here to sleep. Alone. She can’t get up here without a ride. She don’t drive. She arrived at the hotel in one of them shuttle things from the airport.”
“Does the boy look like him?” Hana asked distracted. She winced at Leslie’s answer.
“He’s definitely a Du Rose, my love. I’m sorry.”
Hana lay her head back against the headrest and tried to run her hands through her hair, her fingers snagging in the red curls. “I don’t know what to do,” she sighed. “I think I want to stay up here because then I don’t have to run into his fancy woman. But then I have to share a house with him and I don’t want that either. I can go to Bodie’s place but I don’t think I can cope with explaining it all. Bodie will just love this. I can hear him now telling me how he warned me what a loose cannon Logan was and how he could have told me how it would all end. What is it about me, Leslie? How can I get things so wrong?”
Leslie stroked a tendril of hair out of Hana’s face, her eyes sending love into the poor woman’s tortured soul. “I don’t think he’s slept with her. Sylvia, she calls herself. I think she wants him to but I don’t think he has. I judged him and now I’ve taken a step back, I feel sure it was all one-sided.”
Hana shrugged. “I don’t know if I care anymore. When I reach for the place in my heart that Logan used to occupy, it’s empty. It’s like a jewellery box that’s been raided, all the precious things taken away and just the crap left hanging over the sides waiting for someone to throw it out. I cooked him a special dinner and got dressed up like a fool to tell him about the baby, only to have him treat me like dirt when he got home. Then he humiliated me in the stable yard. How could he let me find out about her with everyone watching?”