by Bowes, K T
“What a mess!” Hana sank back down into the chair and covered her face with her hands. “I’m not the right person to be doing this. I can’t cope with the information. It’s all too damaging. I now know that Logan’s half-brother has married his own half-sister without realising. And Logan is only half a Du Rose and not a whole one. It will kill him. And I’ve never been able to keep a secret, it’s my worst thing. I can’t cook and I can’t keep secrets. What am I going to do, Will?”
The old man wheeled his chair next to her and to Hana’s surprise, fixed his arms firmly around her shoulders. “Hush, hush,” he crooned. “Sometimes the burdens are too big to carry alone. History can be a wicked master for a delicate soul. Let me deal with this and you concentrate on that wee pēpe of youse.” He kissed Hana’s tear-stained cheek and his bristles scratched at her delicate skin. He smelled of coffee and the medical tape on the stumps of his legs. Hana sniffed and rested her chin on his shoulder and felt grateful for his support.
“What shall we do?” she whispered.
“You will clean the photographs as I direct you,” he replied softly. “And I’ll deal with the matriarch’s memories. I’ll seek the truth and when I find it, I’ll decide whether or not you need to know.”
“But what do I do with the stuff already in my head?” Hana asked, a stray tear rolling down her cheek.
“You file it away in a safe place and make sure you control it and don’t let it control you. It changes nothing, unless you let it.”
Hana sniffed and nodded, doubtful she would be able to file it away like the old custodian said. “It burns,” Hana sighed, touching the spot just above the rise of her belly and Will covered her hand with his.
“I know my darling,” his voice was soothing. “I know. Some things can’t be un-known, can they? But you’re improving your heritage here and now. Youse and your old man, you’re makin’ a good foundation for your little ones. You’ve a solid marriage and a legacy that’s gonna be different.”
Hana sighed and rolled her eyes. “You have no idea,” she began and Will raised his hand.
“I knows more than you think, my girl. Youse doin’ good and don’t you forget it. This ain’t an easy family to graft into and that man of yours is closed and dark-hearted. It’s gonna just take time but youse doing ok.” He patted Hana’s back like she was a child and let her rest her forehead on his shoulder. Hana was comforted. She reached her wrangling hands around the old man’s neck and hugged him tightly, turning her face sideways and closing her eyes. He hushed her and soothed her.
They didn’t hear the door open quietly or the blonde man poke his head in. “Sorry,” Flick stammered. “I didn’t know you were here Han...Miss.”
Hana sat up quickly and sniffed. “Come in Bobby. I’m just being emotional and silly.”
The drover shuffled forward but kept his body turned sideways, seeming awkward and wrong-footed. “There’s a delivery arrived. Some big glass cabinets. Want me to get the guys to bring them in?” He directed his question at Will, ignoring Hana and she assumed he was embarrassed by her tears. She found a tissue in her sweatshirt pocket and dabbed her eyes with it.
“Yeah sure,” Will answered gruffly, palming the offensive diary easily into his hands. Hana watched the action with accusation. He wasn’t wearing gloves, but she wasn’t about to point that out to him. He lay the manuscript on his useless legs and wheeled himself over to the safe. “Fetch ‘em in, son.”
Flick left the room quickly without looking at Hana and a sense of alarm went through her. She stepped towards the door to go after him but Will stopped her. “Leave it!” he said sharply and Hana turned to face him, confusion on her pretty face.
“Pardon?”
“Just leave things alone, will ya?” he said, sounding irritated. “You bring half your problems down on youse own head, girl.”
Hana was stung and stood against the wall while three of Logan’s strapping men brought the heavy cabinets into the museum and set them up at Will’s direction. Flick hung around in the doorway, ignoring Hana and she stared at him feeling perplexed. It had to be because of the hospital appointment a few days previously. Perhaps Logan had bawled him out for interfering. Hana hated the atmosphere between them but did as she was told for once and respected Will’s advice.
“Back to work!” Flick barked at his men and they jumped to attention and re-joined him. Each click of the heels from his work boots cut into Hana like a guilty knife, as she heard her friend walk past reception and towards the front doors.
“Hana!” Will spoke sharply to her and she jumped. “Let’s get these photos out of their frames. You’ll need some sturdy gloves. They’ve got sharp, rusty nails holding the back onto the surround.”
Will kept Hana busy for two hours. She didn’t see him put the diary in the safe but her painstaking work helped to numb the crawling sensation of needing to know absolutely everything. Will had promised he would find out the truth and she trusted him. Hana sent a prayer heavenward to her God, asking him to help the old man solve the mystery and make his difficult decision. He would either put her out of her misery; or not. Either way, she would have to live with the result.
Breaking for lunch and finding herself not hungry, Hana wandered outside into the crisp, cold air and walked around, filling her lungs and exercising her cramped body. The small cuts on her hands smarted in the air, the victorious nails having punctured the gloves and her skin. Miriam’s rose garden failed to provide its usual brand of welcome peace and Hana ventured to the stables, hoping to see Logan.
Jack used a wide broom to sweep hay and muck into a loose pile in the centre of the yard. He waved to her, but continued his task and Hana’s brow furrowed. Without Phoenix, she felt strangely naked. Hana peered into each of the loose boxes and found them disappointingly empty. She wandered to the equipment shed and rested her backside against the familiar green quad bike. “I still hate you,” she said ungraciously to it. “So don’t get any ideas!” Twice the bike had caused her harm, once when Michael had stopped sharply in it and Hana’s heavily pregnant body had hurtled into the foot well and the second time, it had broken down at the worst possible moment. Hana had given birth underneath the old kauri tree which now nestled at the edge of her driveway. The bike had abandoned her to a terrible few hours of agony and fear. With a sense of devilment, she twisted the wing mirror to face skyward, feeling instantly guilty. David Allen, Logan’s resident mechanic had gone back to England after lovingly restoring the old vehicle. He wasn’t due back until the end of the year.
A deafening clang made Hana jump out of her skin and the air was rent with the sound of vociferous cursing. Hana turned as Flick’s ash-blonde head appeared from a tractor parked inside the shed. He hurled something metal to the ground. “Sodding thing!” he kicked the heavily treaded tyre and then picked up the spanner he’d thrown onto the concrete floor. Hesitating for only a moment, Hana picked her way through the haphazardly parked machinery until she reached the drover.
“What did it do?” she asked and he started and jumped away from her.
“You can’t be here,” he said with violence and Hana looked at him in amazement.
“Is it about the hospital visit?” She tried to placate him, realising the futility of her efforts as he turned his back on her and moved away.
“No!”
Hana wrenched on his elbow, overbalancing the tall man and he stumbled and banged into her, causing her to groan loudly as he accidentally elbowed her in the ribs.
“Geez, Hana, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. Are you ok?” The man’s eyes were instantly filled with remorse and concern. Hana rubbed at her ribs and glared at him.
“What’s with you? What on earth have I done to deserve this...?” Her words died on her lips as she caught sight of his face. “What happened?”
Flick’s right eye was swollen almost shut and the small bit of eyeball that Hana saw, was reddened and bloodshot. Her ribs forgotten, she reached up and pulled his cheek tow
ards her. “Tell me, what happened?” she insisted.
Flick’s fingers closed over hers. “Leave it, Hana. Please just forget you saw.”
“No. I need to take you to the hospital. Can you see out of it or do you think you’ve damaged your eye?” she fussed.
“I can see fine, when I get it opened,” Flick said, gently stroking Hana’s fingers. “Please, don’t worry about me.”
“How did you do it?” Hana was unyielding. “You were fine the other day...” The thought occurred to her like a black, nauseating wave, washing over her head and restricting her airways. “Did Logan do this?” she whispered. She looked crushed, her face crumpling in sadness, quickly replaced by anger. “If you tell me Logan did it, I’ll kill him!”
“Logan didn’t do it,” Flick said. “Please Hana. Just leave it.”
Hana reached up again to the engorged eye, her beautiful face concerned and loving. “Bobby, tell me the truth.”
“I can’t.” Flick leaned in close to Hana. He blindly reached his arms around her neck and pulled her in close to him. His body shook and Hana was rocked with fear. Betrayal coursed through her veins with growing cynicism. She thought Logan was changing and becoming softer. Was he such a good actor? Hana didn’t think so.
“Did he do this at the hospital, when he found you outside the room? Bobby...” Hana’s voice broke with sadness.
“No, no. Shush,” Flick placed his finger over her lips. “You weren’t meant to see. You need to go now. Please.”
“Don’t be ridiculous!” Hana was indignant and the man took a step back.
“You’re going to make this worse for me if you don’t go now!”
Hana shook her head. Something was badly wrong. A sense of evil unexpectedly pervaded the air, which became thick with a choking awfulness. Flick went dead still after dropping his arms to his sides and he took a step back from Hana. His voice became detached and he over-pronounced his words. “You need to leave me alone, Miss. I have to get on with my work now.”
“What...pardon?” Hana felt totally lost in this bizarre charade.
“I need to get on now. I hope you find whatever it is you’re looking for.” Flick turned his back on her, striding from the shed and out of the stable yard altogether. Hana stared after him, mystified. Her eyes were drawn to the centre of the stable yard, her pupils shrinking back against the strong light outside. Jack and Logan stood in the court yard discussing something. Hana’s husband gesticulated for the old man’s benefit and Jack nodded with understanding, even though he hardly paid attention, his eyes flicking towards his employer and back into the darkened shed. Hana wondered if he was still mad about their spat. It seemed like such a long time ago. The disappearance of the blonde drover had rattled him dreadfully. It sat on Hana’s chest like a lead weight, more disturbing because nobody else cared - or had ever cared.
“Logan said whatever was in the box would cause trouble,” she sighed out quietly to the tractor and quad bike as they surrounded her, a silent audience. “He was right. He just can’t know how right.”
Jack looked terrifying as he watched Hana across the yard. His elderly bent shape had been forced out of its comfort zone as the man hauled himself up to his full height. He must once have been over six feet tall and his eyes bore into Hana across the distance, staring clear over Logan’s shoulder. She sighed and ran her hands over her face. No wonder Rawhiti was scared of him.
Flick had run from someone and Hana directed her anger at Logan’s strong back. How could he? Not yet ready to face her treacherous husband, Hana tried to sneak out of the shed. Her foot banged against an old bucket, discarded in the detritus on the floor and the scraping it made attracted Logan’s attention. His grey eyes joined the stable manager’s as Hana emerged shakily from the shed. Perhaps he hit Bobby before he changed, she reasoned with herself. But the bruising around Flick’s eye looked more recent than that and her heart sank. “Hey babe,” Logan’s eyes narrowed and he seemed frighteningly perceptive. “What are you doing in there?”
A lie came instantly to mind and was out before Hana could stop herself, her conscience pricking her dreadfully. “I took a break from the museum and came looking for you.” It was sort of the truth.
“You look a bit pale. Do you want to go to...?” Logan almost said my room, but stopped himself in time. His face clouded at the thought of his unwanted house guest.
“No thanks!” Hana’s response was sharp. She would never sleep in that room again, the perfume of the delectable Sylvia staining its peace for her forever. Defensiveness made her daring. “I was just talking to Bobby.” She looked at Jack, slowing her speech for his benefit. Logan looked confused for a moment and then recognition dawned.
“Why don’t you just call him Flick, like everyone else?”
“Because his name is Bobby.” Hana felt defiant and a little voice inside her head screamed, are you trying to get him killed?
Jack still studied Hana as her body language gave off obvious distress signals and he screwed his face up in confusion. He couldn’t hear the shrill voice of Sylvia as she clattered through the hotel gate in heels which were highly inappropriate. Logan’s shoulders slumped and the tension in the yard hiked up a notch. “Logan, darling. I’ve been looking for you.” She made a loud clip clopping beeline for her quarry and Logan stepped back physically as she lurched for his arm. Comprehension dawned on Jack’s wrinkled face. He turned his rage on her instead and the air around Hana seemed to clear. Jack made angry guttural sounds and pointed down at the woman’s feet in disapproval, as she danced around his pile of muck. Sylvia was clearly revolted by the elderly man and wrinkled her pretty nose in disgust at his sounds and gestures. She lurched for Logan’s arm again and Hana saw his muscles clench in distaste. She felt tired and old and the sensation washed over her. The ugly disappointment at her husband surfaced again, overwhelming in its force, like a body blow.
Hana exited the shed and walked away, her shoulders rounded in defeat. Why am I even bothering? Hana, you’re a fool, she sighed to herself. Nothing’s changed. Logan had battered a friend just for helping her and Sylvia hadn’t cooled her ardour in the slightest. Hana took a circuitous route back to the museum, ignoring Logan’s shout to her to wait.
“Hana!” he caught her up at the mudroom door and she stopped, head bowed with her hand still on the handle. “Sorry about her,” he apologised. “I th...thought she would have got the hint by now. She’ll l...leave after the DNA test. Even if Ryan’s my son, she can’t stay. I was hoping you’d st...stick around and see her off.” Logan’s occasional nervous stammer had never annoyed Hana, but at that moment it was just another beacon of his weakness and her redheaded temper flared. She was momentarily relieved at the tiny flash of power it offered.
“What, like your guard dog? You seem to be making a big enough mess all by yourself,” she said with pointed sarcasm. “And if you want her gone, you get rid of her!” Hana left him stood by the door, closing it in his face. She saw him turn away and punch his fist into the door of the tack room, his teeth gritted in fury.
Her feet dragged as she went back to the museum. But she couldn’t settle and after she broke the glass on an old photograph and stabbed herself with more nails, Will wheeled himself over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m hearin’ a lot of cursing going on from over here,” he said with a knowing smile and Hana’s face crumpled.
“I can’t be who they want me to be,” Hana whined. “I just want my nice, boring, easy life; back when the biggest worry I had was how I could fill my evenings. A glass of wine, a job I liked and the odd good novel. It’s not much to ask, is it?”
“But you were lonely,” Will said perceptively. “I can see it in your face.”
“Was not!” Hana bit and he laughed.
“Sometimes the route out of somewhere isn’t what we think, is it?”
Hana shook her head. “I miss my church and my friends. I feel isolated here and there’s this bad feeling that hangs aro
und my head all the time; a cloud of misery trying to suck me into its horrid black pit. It feels like what used to settle on Miriam and I don’t want to be depressed. But there’s so much going on all the time, all this conflict.”
“Finish for today,” Will said softly and patted Hana’s hand with his wizened paw. “Go for a walk. Your baby will be home from her trip soon with tales to tell you. Get your game face on for her.”
Chapter 20
Hana wandered outside in the cold, fresh air and sat in Miriam’s rose garden. The quiet place held many memories for her. She had made peace with Tama here after months of hatred and antagonism and she had laboured with Phoenix here in secret. The flowers were Logan’s mother’s, chosen and tended by her, but after more than a year, there was nothing else left of her here. Will’s capable son cared for the roses and cut the grass and it was sad that a life spent dedicated to cultivating the special place had left little trace behind, apart from the choice of blooms. Miriam was gone and the world spun unconcerned.
Hana sat on the bench and closed her eyes, pulling her sweatshirt closer around her cold body. She tuned into her surroundings, trying to touch God with her mind. The bush noises were peaceful and comforting, the call of native birds and the stamp of horses. The occasional lowing of distant cattle numbed Hana’s shattered nerves and gave her peace. Perhaps God was in that small sense of solitude and concord.
Hana heard a car pull onto the gravel and let it fit into the sounds of the hotel, separating it from the bush noises. In her busy mind she divided the sounds into natural and manmade, occupying herself and preventing the constant agonising and rehashing of unkind words and actions. Two strong arms snaked around either side of Hana’s neck and joined in the middle of her chest. Hair tickled the back of her neck and a heavy head rested on her shoulders. “Hi, Ma. You miss me?”