by K T Bowes
“No?” Hana took a step forward, ignoring the tightness in her left lung. “It sure looks like they do from where I’m standing.” She shoved her finger into Caroline’s face just millimetres from her nose, the unexpected action making the other woman take a step backwards. “I’ll fight for what’s mine and if you want to test me, let’s start now!”
Caroline threw her head back and laughed, further antagonising Hana’s redheaded temper. “Logan Du Rose belongs to nobody, darling. None of them does. He’ll pick and choose just like his brother and one day, he just won’t pick you anymore!” She prodded a sharp nail into Hana’s chest.
Hana felt her heart detonate. She ground her teeth and her breath came in angry gasps. She pushed her body in close to Caroline’s, enjoying her grimace as she stepped on her toes. “Logan picked me years ago, sister.” She let her face crumple into fake dismay. “Oh, that’s right. You weren’t at our wedding so you don’t know the whole story. Logan fell in love with me at fourteen, so whatever hold you think you had over him, he won’t come back for seconds. We met in London, Caroline. Didn’t you know that? Thanks for not showing up to your own wedding because we reconnected a few short weeks later. You can’t win this.”
Hana wrinkled her nose in disgust, stepping away from Caroline as though she represented a bag of trash. Her conscience quailed and then disowned her as she behaved so out of character, staking her claim at last. Caroline’s face moved through a range of emotions from anger to misery, blanching at a part of Logan’s history she never knew. The tiny redhead shook inside, but her calm exterior masked the lie as she pointed an index finger at Caroline’s face. “I mean it! Stay clear of my husband and keep out of my way. Or I swear I’ll make you sorry you ever learned his name!” Hana heard the bile in her own voice, fighting the urge to pin Caroline to the floor and pound her perfect cheekbones until she evaporated in a haze of steam and dust.
Caroline swallowed. Perhaps she recognised the narrow path between control and insanity in Hana’s face. She grabbed a folder and left the room, not stopping to look over her shoulder. Alone, Hana sank into her chair, hating what she’d become. “Oh God!” she wailed after closing and locking the office door. “I just handed her every card in the deck; she’ll get me fired.” Worse than the fear of Angus’ shock and disappointment was the realisation she’d plumbed depths of herself she never knew existed. With the addition of the wedding band to her jewellery collection came a change in her nature. She wasn’t sure she liked the result.
Hana stared down the years at the nice little push-over she’d been, playing the poor victim for too many wasted years. It contrasted with the woman who stood in front of Caroline, unleashing threats she couldn’t fulfil. Nausea bit again and she dry retched into the dustbin, aware of the hundred boys just metres away through the flimsy walls. Afterwards she tried to concentrate on her work, making a mess of a budget and having to redo it.
When Pete turned up at lunchtime, she blagged his car keys, borrowed a school uniform and cap from lost property and left the site unnoticed. Heading to the rest home, she unburdened herself to her old friend, Father Sinbad, who listened with his usual passive expression. When she finished her sad tale of woe, he put his head back and roared with laughter. “For pities sake, gal,” he drawled in his thick Irish accent, “When I told youse to go and get some action, I didn’t mean for youse to get everyone else’s too. Well, you’re a greedy gal ain’t ya? Gawd love ya, youse gonna give me a conniption.”
Hana failed to see the funny side. “Aren’t you meant to give me Hail Mary’s or something? I’ve been really bad! You just laughed at my confession. What kind of a priest are you? If you could see me now in my disguise, you’d wet yourself! Logan goes to great lengths to get me to work safely and then I drive up the road to see you. He’ll kill me. So I’m wearing a scabby old shirt and jumper and a cap I think’s given me nits!”
Father Sinbad roared again, lightening Hana’s spirits with his jocularity. He waved away her anxieties about marrying a non-Christian. “It’s too late now,” he commented. “What’s done is done. Every couple will stumble and fall in the harness of life. Being unequally yolked makes life harder but now you’ve accepted your place by his side, you need to run the race.” The old man sighed. He’d seen enough dying parishioners encounter with the Lord Jesus himself in their last moments to believe he could and did, call whomever he wanted at exactly the right moment. “Och look gal. As an Irish Catholic, I’ve experienced abundant judging to last me a lifetime. I told ye what you needed last time afore ya weddin’. I’ve nuttin’ to add.”
Hana’s sad inhale took in the scent of male body odour on the jumper and she grimaced. “Yes, you said it’s my job to make my man happy.”
“Aye.” He turned his blind eyes to face her. “And de Good Lord’s job to make him holy! Youse get on wit’ your bit and mind yer own business.”
Hana pouted and sulked. Sinbad’s unfocussed eyes roved without control in front of her. “Ah, Hana, you’ll be givin’ me a heart attack to be sure.” He fumbled air until his claw like hands clasped her wrist. “But it’s grand to see ya living proper. I spend each day sitting in a chair by a window I can’t see out of. I’m reliant on the kindness and duty of others and here is my favourite visitor telling me an exciting story.”
“I’m glad you’re entertained.” Hana sounded grumpy and the old priest cackled.
“So what about dem men what’s attackin’ ya?” he asked, clearing his throat after a prolonged coughing bout. Hana patted his back, feeling the bones under her palms and jerking back in surprise.
“When did you lose so much weight?” she demanded and he shrugged her off with an expression of impatience.
“I’m an old man, Hana. “Tis inevitable. Tell me about the men. Did Bodie catch them?”
“Oh, those men. There’s nothing to tell. They almost ran me over, mugged me, did the home invasion and stole my car. They’re still looking for me and the cops are useless.” Hana gave one more rub to the sloping shoulders and perched on the edge of the bed. “Now I think I’ve married a man with a split personality. No wonder you’re entertained.”
“No more, no more!” the old man wheezed again as tears plopped onto his blanketed knees. Hana grew impatient.
“I’m beginning to wonder if you were ever a priest at all! All those years in the confessional and you’re out of practice. It’s shocking, Father, not hilarious. Stop laughing!”
“It’s the way you tell da story,” Sinbad chortled and Hana pouted.
“Izzie’s having another baby,” she said and the old man sobered. He cocked his head on one side and waited. “I’m pleased and I’m hoping she will be once she warms to the idea.”
Hana bit her lip and resisted telling him about Bodie’s little boy, although she suspected he already knew. If Bodie confessed to anyone, it would be him. She didn’t want to take the risk and disappoint the old cleric, just in case. He adored Bodie. Hana knew the biblical rules on illegitimate love-children but didn’t feel keen to test his resolve. She sighed and watched him cock his head. “That’s all for today,” she lied and his smirk spread.
“I should go.” Hana checked her watch and winced. “If Donald Watson sees me drive into the car park dressed as a school boy, he’ll have more questions than I can face.” She kissed Sinbad on his bristly cheek, his uncharacteristic frailty making her worry.
He gripped her hand in a frantic, grasping movement and his voice wobbled. “Fight back, Hana. Your most dangerous opponent is this woman. We can replace possessions but not relationships. These men may steal from you, but what she takes will scar you forever.” Hana swallowed and nodded, remembering he couldn’t see her. “Don’t let her, Hana.” He squeezed her fingers. “Your mistake is to fight her in de flesh. So don’t war with words. Pray gal, pray and I’ll remember you to your Father in Heaven. Bind your mind to the mind of Christ, because He knows all things.”
He released her wri
st and turned away. His ramblings sounded pointless until Hana recognised the odd Latin word. She sighed, the sound heavy in the hush of the room. “You’re right, Father. But I’ve lost my way.”
“Ah, Anka.” The white head nodded forward and back. “It’s a normal reaction, gal. A Christian woman smashed up her home with her own bare hands and left it in ruins.” His face drooped in sadness. “It takes so little effort to follow that pattern, Hana. Sin is subtle, an inching along process. Nobody wakes in the morning and decides this is the day they’ll destroy their life.”
“I know.” Hana paused with her hand on the doorknob. “Caroline must be a great temptation for Logan. I pray he has the strength of character to resist her like never before. I could handle most things in this life, but not that.”
Hana drove to school, abandoned Pete’s car behind the gym and slipped off the shirt and jumper in the toilets. She ran her fingers through her hair, forcing submission after its gleeful escape from the cap. Sneaking into the back of the school shop, she placed the items in lost property, wrinkling her nose at the mix of her expensive perfume and eau de garçon. Entering her office whilst itching her head, she found it empty and heaved a sigh of relief. “First prayer answered!” she said with an exaggerated exhale. Hana dipped her head over her dustbin and scratched her scalp. “The second relates to any impending nit infestation.”
Caroline’s desk looked neat and tidy and Hana pouted, fighting the urge to mess it up on purpose. She sat on her hands to stop herself. “Happy birthday to me!” she exclaimed into the empty office, a tinge of bitterness in her voice.
“Quite right. Many happy returns!”
Hana squeaked and spun in her chair. Angus baulked at the state of Hana’s hair sticking up on end like a bird’s nest. He pointed to his receding hairline. “Is this a new style you’re trying out? It’s very intriguing.” He paused and bit his lip. “You didn’t look like that this morning. Hana, your hair looks like a squirrel’s tail.”
Hana put her hand up to her head, the patting turning to itching. “Sorry,” she said with a grimace. “I think I’ve caught nits.” Her cheeks and neck flushed bright red.
“It’s an interesting style.” Angus smiled and sat in Caroline’s chair, repeating his description in case Hana didn’t hear it. “Very interesting.”
Hana panicked and attempted a flattening job with her hands. Angus shook his head and pointed at a few stray spikes. “I know,” she said, her embarrassment growing. “I’ll use this bottled water.” She covered the end with her thumb to cause enough of a sprinkling to damp down the fire on her scalp and frizzling coils of hair.
“Oh!” Angus reached out a tentative hand. “That’s lemonade.”
Hana groaned. “I should’ve stayed in bed this morning!”
“Yes, it may have proved fortuitous.” Angus stood and paced the room, touching things and causing a sheaf of papers to plunge to their death from a shelf. “Hana, Hana, Hana,” he sighed and she stopped itching to cast a wary glance in his direction. “Ms Marsh came to my office this afternoon, in floods of tears and hysterics and claiming you threatened her. What, my dear, should I believe? Must I commence an investigation into the behaviour of one of my most trusted members of staff? Besides which, I count you as a friend.” He pulled his bifocals further down his nose and Hana’s heart almost stopped.
He waited as Hana sat in shocked silence. She reran Sinbad’s warning against Caroline and shook her head, knowing she handed her the weapons herself. The old man spoke the truth. Caroline could prove more lethal than the blonde man and his accomplice. “Well?” Angus demanded, rocking on the balls of his feet and examining a stain on the carpet.
“I saw her,” began Hana, speaking as though recounting a traumatic event. Sinbad never suggested play-acting as a tool but Hana decided to use her own skills while waiting for God. “I saw her run after Logan and make advances towards him at lunchtime, in public. I saw her on the bridge. She tried to take his hand and I heard Logan ask her to leave him alone.” Hana rolled her eyes and attempted a look of pure innocence. Her wince of realisation ruined the effect as Angus raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t eavesdrop,” she said, widening her eyes in an angelic expression. “They spoke loud enough for their voices to carry.” Hana turned away in the guise of reaching for a tissue and smirked at her ingenuity. “Even though Caroline knows we’re married, she won’t give up. She propositioned a married man! I’m shocked and I have to admit, I’m rethinking my position at the school. I need to speak to Logan but I don’t see how we can stay. It’s intolerable. She shouldn’t be engaging in staff relationships at all, let alone tempting a man already married.” Hana patted the frizz on her head, feeling the stickiness of the lemonade as her dignity crept out the door behind her.
Angus listened but his eyes widened in shock at Hana’s overt threat. “You wouldn’t leave! Not with Sheila off. Oh my goodness. I couldn’t put Pete in charge!”
Hana shrugged. “Well, I don’t know what the answer is then.” The sentence damned her with the resounding truth of it. “And if I leave, Logan can’t stay. I’m the only thing standing in the way of her devouring him like a…”
“I don’t need an example, thanks,” Angus interjected, raising his hand to block Hana’s description. “I can imagine for myself. How can one woman cause so much trouble in a matter of weeks?”
“I don’t know,” Hana sighed. “What do you want from me?” She grimaced as a drip of lemonade slid inside the collar of her blouse and slithered down her back. Her hair felt like candyfloss.
“What exactly did you say to her?” Angus slumped into Caroline’s chair and waited.
Hana told him the truth, although she changed a little of the emphasis to reduce the element of threat. The pricking of her conscience turned into full-blown stabs at the very different picture she painted.
Angus leaned forward in his chair. “What do you know about her and Chris Carter, the health and physical education teacher?”
Hana shrugged. “He comes in here looking for her sometimes and they go off together. I did intercept a text from someone who enjoyed a good night with her and wanted a repeat.” Hana scratched her head without thinking and Angus winced at the movement. “Chris Carter’s married, anyway.” Hana’s eyes widened. “Ohhh.”
Hana saw the coffin lid closing over Caroline Marsh’s teaching career at Waikato Presbyterian School for Boys. She faked an admirable look of concern and hoped they hammered the last nail in good and hard. “What a little slapper,” she exclaimed, before clapping a hand over her mouth.
“Quite,” Angus said, standing and leaving the room.
Hana punched the air. “Game, set and match, bitch!”
“I heard that, Mrs Du Rose,” he said from the brochure rack outside the door.”
An hour later, Hana closed up the office and sought out her husband. Sexual impropriety was definitely a coffin closer with the board of trustees. Chris Carter. Hana shivered. At least it explained the text and Caroline’s hushed arguments with him the few times he’d come looking for her. “What kind of woman hunts down a previous lover and then entertains herself with another married man while she waits for the first one?” she asked aloud.
“A nymphomaniac,” Pete supplied, wandering past Logan’s office and slapping her on the backside. He bounced a basketball without skill and chased it as it escaped.
“No running indoors!” Hana hissed.
Pete smirked and threw a rude gesture over his shoulder. Hana shivered at the thought of Caroline’s hands touching any part of Logan. Then the memory came without being called for and Hana saw another woman’s hands in a different time and place. And her heart ached from the pain of it.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Walking back along the gully after school, Hana held hands with Logan and carried his briefcase. Darkness closed around them but Logan exuded safety. “Leave it alone, Loge!” She laughed at him as he let go of her hand and fiddled with the
sling over his left arm.
“It’s annoying!” he grumbled. Hana heard the sound of tearing material.
“Don’t rip it!” She put his briefcase on the gravel floor and tugged at the white fabric. “I need a light to see what you’ve done. It’s all rucked up underneath somehow.”
“It’s wound me up all day. Just let me rip it off.” Logan’s patience snapped and he pulled it from Hana’s grasp. “And when I get home I’m cutting this thing off as well.” He waved his cast in the air, grimacing at the instant pain in his elbow. “Bloody hell!”
“Poor baby.” Hana played up her maternal side, soothing her husband as she won the battle with the sling. “Look, you tucked it under there wrong. And I won’t let you cut the cast off.” She narrowed her eyes. “It cost me forty bucks so technically it belongs to me. Did you teach sports today?”
Logan nodded and his lips turned down in a grumpy expression. Hana slid her hands around his waist and the sharp angles of his tense jaw softened. “How about I make it better at home?”
“Ok then.” The sulk in his voice sounded pure play act and a smirk hung around the corners of his mouth. “Then I’m cutting this cast off.”
“That would be stupid. It’ll heal weird.” Hana pressed her face against Logan’s warm chest, his body heat radiating through his jacket.
“What like this?” Logan held up his right hand and Hana knitted her brow against the strange kink in two of his fingers.
“Yes like that! Keep it on.”
“Or what?” Logan’s lips pressed against Hana’s as he issued the challenge and she felt the familiar flare of desire in her gut.
“I’ll think of something!”
Logan let go of her with a hiss, the action abrupt. He reached into his pocket with his good hand and pulled out his phone, almost dropping it into the mud. It vibrated in his palm and he exhaled in annoyance. “She won’t leave me alone!” he snapped.
Hana watched his expression morph into a frown of irritation. The rising moon dappled the scene, touching the dark reaches of the bush with a silver paintbrush. She held out her hand for the phone. Logan paused for a moment before dropping it into her palm. A gold message envelope flashed on the screen, unopened. The caller’s name pulsed in the top left hand corner and Hana swallowed her bitterness. She pressed the keypad and opened the text message.