From the Ashes

by Deborah Challinor

  ‘’Scuse me.’ Wiki pointed at her belly. ‘If I was that old I wouldn’t be like this, would I?’

  Looking exasperated, Kura said, ‘Ah, never mind. How far along?’

  ‘Waters have broken and I’ve been having the cramps since about midday. Say another two or three hours?’

  ‘Your babies always did come quick.’ Kura took off her cardigan. ‘You got everything ready?’

  ‘I’ve put newspapers down on the bed and there’s towels and flannels in there, and the baby’s things.’

  ‘Got a bowl? You know you always spew.’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Scissors for the cord?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘Done a tiko?’

  ‘Ae.’

  ‘Boiled plenty of water?’

  Wiki said, ‘Yvonne, put on a pot of water, will you, there’s a good girl. Use the boil-up pot.’ She made a slightly pained face and eased herself on her chair. ‘I need to walk again in a minute. I hope it’s arrived by the time Henare gets home.’

  ‘’Cos he’ll be angry you didn’t go to the hospital?’

  ‘Mmm. I don’t need him in my ear.’

  ‘Mind you, how did he think you were going to get there?’ Kura said. ‘On the tram in the middle of your cramps? In a taxi you’ve got no money for?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Come on, let’s go for a walk outside.’

  They walked up and down, up and down the footpath outside the house till it was time for Wiki to take to her bed. Charlie had come home a while ago and by this time Rena and Vicki were home from work. Kura dashed across the street to check on her kids and to ask her eldest girls to prepare enough tea for both families, as Wiki definitely wouldn’t be cooking and Rena and Vicki would also be busy. Henare, Joshua and Johnny, she knew, wouldn’t be home till after six o’clock closing. She didn’t know what pub they went to, and didn’t really care as long as Joshua only bought a jug and they all came home in one piece.

  Wiki was pacing around the little bedroom she shared with Henare, then she knelt on the mattress, put her head down and rocked. ‘I’m going back to that doctor and getting my tubes tied as soon as I can after this.’

  ‘Have you got any spare sheets?’ Kura asked. ‘I’ll put one down over these papers.’

  Wiki shook her head.

  Kura said to Charlie, peeking in the door, ‘Run across the road, love, and tell Patricia to bring over my spare set of sheets. They’re in the hot water cupboard. Good boy.’

  ‘They’ll get all mucky,’ Wiki warned.

  ‘Ae, but you can’t have this baby on yesterday’s news like it’s two shillings of fish and chips.’

  They both laughed.

  Wiki said, ‘I came over to your place this morning but you weren’t home. Did you go for a job?’

  ‘A job? Oh, no, I went to that shop where I took that knitting we did? On Ponsonby Road? And do you know, they sold the lot and we’ve made twenty-three pounds!’

  Kura helped Wiki change into a nightie, the sheets arrived, and Kura spread one over the newspapers. By now it was a little past six o’clock. Wiki had stopping moving restlessly about and was lying on her side on the bed, her hair stuck sweatily to her face, panting and grimacing in pain, but bearing up in silence.

  Wiki heard Henare walk past the bedroom window, whistling. A minute later he was at the bedroom door.

  He stared for a moment, then said, ‘Why aren’t you at the hospital?’

  ‘Fuck off,’ Wiki grunted.

  Very wisely, he did.

  ‘I’ll be back in a tick,’ Kura said to Wiki.

  Wiki nodded, not really listening, focused almost completely now on what her body was doing.

  When Kura returned, she said, ‘He’s out the back, having a smoke. I told him to go over home for a feed but he wants to stay here till the baby comes.’

  ‘I don’t want him in here,’ Wiki said. She was on her knees again. Rena was pulling her damp hair back in a ponytail.

  Kura said, ‘Not much chance of that.’

  Wiki felt her stomach contract — her actual stomach, not her womb.

  ‘Bowl!’

  Kura shoved a mixing bowl under her face and she vomited her lunch into it. She definitely knew the baby was on its way out now. She always threw up just before her babies arrived. ‘Can you have a look?’

  Kura handed the bowl to Vicki, bent down behind Wiki and lifted her nightie. ‘I can just see the head. Lots of hair! Rena, go and get some of that boiled water.’

  Wiki straightened her arms and spread her legs, then gave an intense, sustained push and the baby’s head emerged, its little face all purple and screwed up.

  ‘Good girl, head’s out,’ Kura said. ‘Keep going.’

  Wiki rested for a few moments then gave another ferocious push, her face turning the colour of watermelon, and the baby slid out in a squelch of blood and fluid into Kura’s waiting hands. He wasn’t making any noise so she hung him upside down by the ankles and lightly smacked his tiny bum, which made him wail.

  ‘It’s another boy, Mum,’ Vicki said. ‘You’ve got the full set now. Aren’t you clever?’

  ‘Can we call him Vincent?’ Yvonne asked.

  ‘No,’ Wiki said, turning onto her back.

  Kura wiped the muck off the baby’s face, wrapped him in one of his many new blankets and laid him on her chest. ‘Will Henare want to cut the cord?’

  ‘I don’t know. Ask him.’

  Vicki ran out to get her father. He came in, grinning. ‘Another boy?’ Turning back the blanket he peeked at the baby. ‘Jeez, he’s nice, eh? You’re good at this, girl.’

  ‘This is the last bloody one, and I mean it,’ Wiki said vehemently.

  ‘Do you want to cut the cord?’ Kura asked.

  When Henare said yes, Kura washed the scissors in the bowl of hot water and handed them over. She put a hairclip on the umbilical cord to stop it bleeding everywhere, then, wincing slightly, Henare dissected it.

  ‘What do you want to call him?’ Wiki asked.

  ‘Dunno yet.’

  ‘Well, think about it. Why don’t you go and get some tea? You too, girls. You were a big help.’

  Off they all went.

  Wiki made a pained face.

  ‘Afterbirth?’ Kura asked.

  Wiki nodded.

  ‘Do you want a massage?’

  ‘No. I can feel it coming.’

  The afterbirth was expelled about twenty minutes later. Kura inspected it carefully to make sure it was in one piece.

  ‘Is it all there?’ Wiki asked.

  ‘Ae. It’s not going to last till you get a chance to go home, though.’

  ‘I know that.’

  Wiki had been thinking about this, and it was upsetting her. The whenua of her five other children were all buried beneath a pohutukawa tree on their marae at Maungakakari, near those of Kura’s kids, and all the babies born to the hapu, and she dearly wanted the afterbirth of this one to be buried there too. It was where it belonged because Maungakakari would always be where the child would belong. But it would rot long before they could get it there. They had no car they could race down to Hawke’s Bay in, and no fancy refrigerator with an ice box.

  ‘We could cure it,’ Kura suggested.

  ‘Smoke it?’

  ‘No, salt-boil it, then dry it in the oven, like meat. Then you can just put it away till you can get home.’

  ‘You know, Kura Apanui, you’re not just a pretty face, are you?’

  Kura grinned. ‘I’m not a pretty face at all, but I’m practical.’

  *

  Kathleen Lawson left the jewellery shop on Queen Street feeling quite satisfied, knowing that the solid gold bangle she’d just purchased with one of Jonathan’s cheques would hurt his pocket, if nothing else. She was still deeply aggrieved by his behaviour with that tramp Evelyn and hadn’t forgiven him — she never would — but things between them had reverted to more or less their normal bland and uncommunicative state. Rosemar
y had now started school so Mrs Wright, the new woman they’d hired, had less to do, but they’d kept her on for housekeeping duties, cooking, and to manage the children in the afternoons. She was ancient, well into her sixties, and wore a strange, squashed little felt hat all day long, but she was a good cook and household manager, didn’t take any nonsense from the children, not even Terence, and Kathleen was grateful for her.

  Rosemary was enjoying school, and Geoffrey was, as always, doing well, but Terence still hadn’t really settled. In fact, she’d been called to his school to discuss an incident the week before. Jonathan, of course, had been away, so she’d had to go alone. It seemed that Terence had been beaten up by a group of boys. At home she’d noticed he’d had a bruise on his face, but he’d told her he’d fallen over, so the beating had been complete news to her when she’d met with the school headmaster and Terence’s house teacher.

  She’d asked him in the headmaster’s office, ‘But why would they pick on you for no reason? You must have done something to annoy them.’

  And Terence had said, ‘I didn’t. They just all ganged up and started hitting me.’

  ‘But you must have done something.’

  ‘I didn’t!’

  ‘But didn’t they even say anything?’

  Terence had mumbled something.

  ‘What?’ Kathleen had said.

  ‘They said I walk funny.’

  ‘You walk funny?’ Kathleen had looked at the headmaster, bewildered. She’d felt extremely embarrassed, and even more so at what the man had said next.

  ‘There is also the matter of Terence’s hair. We feel it is a trifle too long and, pardon me for being blunt, also somewhat feminine in appearance. We suggest you take Terence to a barber. Very soon, in fact, as his current hairstyle is breaking school rules. As for the incident regarding the fight, and by all accounts Terence is not blameless as he fought back somewhat viciously, we will take no more action, given his, er, recent illness.’

  Kathleen had almost died of shame at that — a spoken reference to the hanging accident. They’d had to inform the school about it because the bruises on Terence’s throat hadn’t faded for weeks, and he’d also needed time off school for his appointments with Dr Hill. There had been no avoiding it.

  Then the headmaster had addressed Terence directly. ‘But I do expect you to pull up your socks, young man. There is much to be said for individualism, but there comes a point when eccentricity simply becomes irritating and an embarrassment to others. Do you understand what I’m saying?’

  Terence had nodded, but Kathleen had doubted he’d even been listening. He seemed hardly to listen to anyone these days. She’d dumped the job of Terence’s haircut onto Jonathan, who was home last Friday and had taken him into town that night to the barber. She was grateful for that, as she couldn’t bear to see his beautiful golden curls cut off, or witness his distress. He was very proud of his hair. He’d come home with an aggressive short back and sides and a splotchy red face from crying, and with Jonathan in a foul mood because Terence had put on such a performance in the barber’s chair. Terence had been weeping on and off ever since, and had been really quite subdued, shutting himself in his room and apparently brooding.

  Kathleen walked up Queen Street, looking in shop windows, stopping outside a furrier and eyeing a hip-length jacket. American musquash, probably. Very nice. She didn’t have a short fur jacket, only a calf-length one Jonathan had bought her in England. Should she go in and try it on, perhaps even buy it? That would teach him to dally with other women. No it wouldn’t, but it would make her feel better.

  But would it? Already the thrill of the new gold bangle in her handbag had worn off. She hadn’t even bothered to put it on her wrist. She thought of something more satisfying to do and walked on towards Smith and Caughey.

  *

  Peggy Mitchell stifled a sigh as she explained yet again to Marian, the new girl, how to store the lipsticks in the drawer beneath the counter. Marian was very pretty but there did seem to be a fair bit of wind whistling between her ears.

  ‘If you don’t keep all the same colours together, you’ll think we’ve run out when we might not have, see? Then we’ll re-order and end up with too many. Also, it’ll take you ages to find what you want if they’re not all in the same place, or they’re not there at all. Systems, Marian, that’s what you need to be thinking. Systems.’

  ‘But it’s just make-up.’

  ‘No, it’s the key to a woman’s happiness. Don’t you read what is says on the packaging?’

  ‘Should I?’

  Peggy sighed out loud this time. ‘Probably not. Oh, good.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Here comes someone I don’t like.’

  Marian looked confused but Peggy ignored her and turned to face Kathleen Lawson, who she could see determinedly approaching down the middle of the Beauty Hall, gussied up like a Christmas dinner as usual in a tan coat with fur trim, black shoes and gloves, and a little black hat with net edging.

  ‘Good afternoon,’ Kathleen said coldly.

  ‘Good afternoon, Mrs Lawson,’ Peggy replied with a lovely big smile. She was going to enjoy this.

  ‘Who’s this?’ Kathleen asked, indicating Marian.

  ‘Our new Elizabeth Arden sales girl.’

  ‘Why? Where’s Allison?’

  Peggy made a mildly concerned face. ‘Oh, didn’t you know? Allie doesn’t work here any more. She left a little while ago.’

  Kathleen Lawson looked alarmed. ‘She’s left Smith and Caughey altogether?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. She’s one hundred per cent not here at all.’

  Kathleen narrowed her eyes.

  Peggy gave her another of her special smiles.

  ‘Do you know where she went?’ Kathleen asked.

  Peggy was tempted to say out the door, but decided that was probably too cheeky, even for her. ‘No, I’ve no idea.’

  ‘She doesn’t have a job somewhere else?’

  ‘Really, Mrs Lawson, I don’t know.’

  Peggy knew Allie wasn’t in a hurry to find a new job and was probably at home, but she wasn’t telling Kathleen Lawson that. It was none of her bloody business.

  ‘You’re not being very helpful, you know,’ Kathleen said.

  ‘Sorry,’ Peggy said insincerely.

  ‘Could you give me her home address?’

  Peggy said, ‘We’re not allowed to give out personal information about staff.’

  ‘But she’s not staff now, is she?’

  ‘She was, though, wasn’t she?’

  ‘What about just her telephone number?’ Kathleen asked.

  ‘She’s not on the phone. Why don’t I tell Allie next time I see her you’d like to get in touch, then she can get in touch with you?’ Peggy suggested, thinking that would probably be when hell froze over. ‘I have your details here in our customer file.’

  ‘Oh, look, if that’s the best you can do.’ Kathleen opened her handbag and took out a card. ‘Give her this. It has my address and telephone number on it. You really have been most unhelpful.’

  ‘Thank you!’ Peggy said. ‘Enjoy the rest of your afternoon!’

  When Kathleen had gone she shoved the card in a drawer. She wouldn’t even bother telling Allie that Kathleen Lawson had been looking for her.

  *

  Ana had already tried her cousin Kura’s house but there had been no one home, so she crossed the street and knocked on the back door of the house opposite. After a moment she heard footsteps inside and the door opened.

  ‘Ana!’ Kura said, a wide smile lighting up her face. ‘Come in, come in!’

  They hugged. ‘Oh good, I have got the right house,’ Ana said, stepping into the narrow hallway. ‘I wasn’t sure. I went across the road and there was no one home. How are you?’

  ‘Me? I’m good. I’m helping Wiki with the baby. You know she just had another little boy?’

  Ana nodded, and held up the flowers she was carrying. ‘Your Johnny sai
d. He’s going out with my neighbours’ girl. He told you we met over the fence? He gave me your address.’

  ‘Ae, Pauline. Nice girl.’

  ‘Who is it?’ came a disembodied voice from the front of the house.

  ‘Our Ana, from home,’ Kura called back.

  Wiki appeared a moment later, carrying a very new baby. ‘Kia ora, Ana. Long time, no see.’

  Embracing Wiki, Ana said, ‘I know, I’ve been meaning to visit for ages, but you know. These are for you,’ she added, giving Wiki the flowers then having a good look at the baby. ‘Isn’t he gorgeous! What’s his name?’

  ‘Vincent Rawiri.’

  ‘You must be thrilled.’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘Not planned?’ Ana asked.

  Wiki snorted. ‘None of mine were planned. He’ll be my last.’ She looked down at him fondly. ‘He is lovely, though. Anyway, come and sit down, tell us what you’ve been up to.’

  While Kura made tea, Wiki and Ana sat in the front room and Ana had a very satisfying cuddle with Vincent. He was dressed head to toe in beautifully hand-knitted clothing and wrapped in several knitted blankets, and so he should be, Ana thought, because it was bloody freezing in Wiki’s front room. She hadn’t even taken her coat off, it was that cold. There was no heating and she could see condensation running down the inside of the windows and the dark shadows of mould creeping up from skirting boards.

  Delving in her bag for a parcel, she said, ‘I did a quick bit of knitting when Johnny mentioned you were expecting soon, but I can see he’s probably got everything he needs. You always did knit well.’

  Wiki opened the package to find two little white gowns with matching cardigans. ‘Thank you, Ana. These are lovely. But me and Kura did do quite a lot of knitting. We had to sell some of it, actually, we had that much.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘Ae, it was easy. Sold really quickly.’

  Ana thought that was really interesting. ‘Whereabouts?’

  ‘In a little shop on Ponsonby Road.’

  Kura came in with the tea on a tray. Wiki said, ‘No cake, sorry. The kids have eaten it all.’

  Judging by the state of the house, Ana suspected there was very rarely cake in the Irwin home — or the Apanui household. She should have thought, and brought something along herself.