by Lily Hammond
‘There was a kiss,’ she said slowly, barely able to believe she was having this conversation. ‘Libby initiated it. And it went no further, and even if it had, I believe it would be no business of anyone’s but hers and mine, despite the longstanding friendship I’ve enjoyed with you and Regina.’ She spoke stiffly and went straight to the part of what Hetty had said that really interested her. ‘What do you mean my floozie is staying in the room next to Libby?’ She pressed her palms down on her thighs. ‘I would greatly appreciate it if you would explain that remark. In some detail, if you please.’
Hetty reared back in her chair as though Clemency had spat poison at her. ‘It is exactly as I said,’ she replied.
‘A floozie staying in the room in my house next to Libby.’ Clemency’s voice was flat.
Maxine shook her head. ‘What’s going on?’ she asked.
It was Regina who answered. ‘We had a somewhat distressed telephone call from Libby this afternoon,’ she said, and looked at Clemency. ‘Apparently, a very bedraggled and cheap young woman turned up on the doorstep this morning and barged her way in. Libby thought she must be some vagrant or street girl and was astounded when told that this…person…was your lover.’ She kept her voice down, hissing the words across the table.
‘Eliza turned up?’ Clemency looked across at Maxine.
‘So you do recognise the description,’ Hetty said. ‘Libby said she was dressed practically in rags – and that your housekeeper had the nerve to put her in the bedroom right next door to Libby’s own.’ She gave a fastidious shudder. ‘Your housekeeper made up some story about the girl having a fever, or some such thing.’ She blinked, but Clemency was no longer looking at her. ‘Honestly, Clemency. We know you’ve had times of sowing your oats, and somewhat indiscriminately, but we all thought you were finally past that. I would never have sent Libby down there with an introduction to you if I thought you would treat her so poorly. And who for?’ She shook her head, lips puckered into a disapproving pout. ‘Some imbecile girl who cannot even speak?’
That got Clemency’s attention back on her. She turned her head so slowly she could almost hear the creak of the bones in her neck. ‘Eliza is no imbecile,’ she said, voice like ice.
‘Eliza’s a good girl,’ Maxine said.
‘Ah yes,’ Regina said, turning her attention to Maxine. ‘She lives in your house, this girl, does she not?’
‘Although apparently not anymore,’ Hetty rejoined.
‘Eliza is a very smart young woman, who sees the world in ways that make me privileged to know her,’ Clemency said, and stood up. ‘If you will excuse me, I find that I have a telephone call to make.’
Not waiting for an answer, Clemency left the room and then wished she’d taken a moment to swallow the rest of her drink down.
What was going on back in Dunedin?
Chapter Forty-Six
‘Riley?’
‘Oh, thank goodness, Clemency. I was hoping you’d call,’ Riley said, standing in the downstairs hallway, holding one hand to her head.
In Christchurch, Clemency ran her hand distractedly through her hair. The bustle of the hotel foyer was a low hum behind her. ‘Tell me what is going on,’ she demanded.
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and Clemency waited through it.
‘How do you know something is going on?’ came Riley’s slow reply.
‘Good question,’ Clemency told her. ‘You’ll recall two acquaintances of mine? Regina and Hetty?’
Riley did indeed recall the couple, although she’d only met them once or twice. They had blown into town on what seemed a whirlwind, and engendered a dislike in Riley of Christchurch, even though it was a place to which she’d never been. If people were that energetic there, she had decided, then she was content exactly where she was.
‘They have just informed me that Eliza is staying at our house.’ Clemency took a slow breath. ‘Is she all right? They mentioned something about a fever?’ She frowned. ‘And I believe they used the word bedraggled.’ Clemency turned her back on the people going to and fro in the hotel foyer. ‘Among others.’
Riley held the telephone in a tight fist and gazed up at the ceiling above her. ‘Eliza just turned up on the doorstep,’ she said. ‘Soaked through to the skin, in a terrible state.’ She wondered how much to tell Clemency, then decided that Clemency would know if she was holding anything back. And besides – what reason was there not to say? ‘She’d been attacked too,’ Riley said.
Clemency’s head roared with a sudden white static. ‘Attacked?’ she said in low horror. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, she slipped away from Maxine and Ruth’s at night, determined to come here to you – and avoid being sent to Greymouth, I can only imagine.’ Riley stopped to take a quick breath then went on. ‘Only, she didn’t think about the area she would be walking through to get down to the Port Chalmers road.’ Riley gave a little shudder. ‘Of course, she only had to step out into the neighbourhood at the bottom of Maxine’s street to run into trouble.’
Clemency made an impatient noise in the back of her throat and gripped the telephone receiver tighter. She turned a little and looked through the doorway into the hotel lounge. Maxine looked annoyed, and both Regina and Hetty a little flushed. Hetty glanced over to where Clemency stood, and Clemency turned her back on her.
‘Is she very hurt?’ she asked Riley.
‘Nothing more than a graze on the head and dirty great bruise over her side,’ Riley answered. ‘The nasty bastard hit her in the kidney, so she is very sore, but otherwise – as far as I’ve been able to ascertain – he did no further damage than to tear her underwear. She got away from him before he could go further.’
Clemency sagged against the wall in relief.
‘She’s got herself a fever though,’ Riley said. ‘Dot and I tucked her up in bed with some of my chicken broth.’ There was a pause that felt pointed even over the telephone line and Clemency stood up again.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
‘Libby Armstrong,’ Riley said. ‘She was, I fear, a little put out over todays’ events.’
‘I gathered that, by Regina and Hetty turning up – making it quite clear that I was not being fair to Libby.’ Clemency sighed. ‘What a mess.’
‘One you’re going to have to sort out, I’m afraid,’ Riley told her, and her voice was not without sympathy.
‘When it rains, it pours, huh?’ Clemency said with a humourless little laugh. ‘I’ll catch the train back tomorrow.’
‘What about Maxine?’ Riley asked. ‘I gathered that her trip was of some importance.’
Clemency thought about what Maxine had finally told her on the journey and winced. ‘It is,’ she said. ‘Listen, I’ll telephone in the morning and let you know my plans, okay?’
Regina and Hetty were gone when Clemency regained her seat in the hotel lounge, picking up her drink and taking a good-sized sip.
‘They’re gone,’ she said.
Maxine nodded. ‘It seemed best.’
Clemency eyed her friend, then decided not to pursue the cryptic statement. Because it was for the best. She didn’t think she was in any mood to negotiate the finer points of verbal sparring that was conversation with Regina and Hetty, and nor, for certain, was Maxine. So she simply nodded.
‘Eliza is at my place,’ she told Maxine instead.
Maxine shook her head. ‘Little minx,’ she said, but it was without heat. ‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘Apparently it has caused quite the stir in the household. Libby particularly, feels strongly about it.’
‘I thought you said there was nothing going on between you and Libby?’ Maxine leaned back in her chair and sighed. The day had been an enormously long one.
‘There isn’t.’
‘But let me guess – Libby has plans for that to change.’
Clemency thought about the things Hetty had said and nodded. ‘I’d say she has indeed.’
‘You’d make a nice couple.’ Maxine’s words were casual, but her eyes were sharp as she looked at Clemency.
But Clemency just shrugged and swigged the last mouthful of the scotch. ‘She does not make the blood sing in my veins,’ she said, and rather sadly.
Now, Maxine leaned forward, and her voice was low, almost urgent. ‘But Eliza does?’
Clemency didn’t even have to think upon the answer. Just hearing Eliza’s name made her feel almost faint with longing.
‘Yes,’ she said.
‘Is she all right?’
Clemency nodded again. ‘She is safe, at least,’ she said. ‘But not, perhaps well.’ She shifted uncomfortably in the chair. ‘Max,’ she said.
But Maxine held up a hand and shook her head. ‘I know,’ she said. ‘You have to take the train back home tomorrow.’
‘I do.’ Clemency paused. ‘Will you be all right?’
Maxine took a deep breath. ‘Sure,’ she said. ‘I can deal with this, right?’
Clemency reached over and touched her best friend gently on the knee. ‘It’s going to be all okay,’ she said. ‘You already know what it’s about.’ She sat back. ‘I still don’t understand why you didn’t tell Ruth. Doesn’t she deserve to know?’
Maxine shook her head in horror. ‘But what if it doesn’t work out?’
‘How will it not work out?’ Clemency asked. ‘From what you’ve told me, it’s all but a done deal.’
Maxine, however, still shook her head. ‘I couldn’t do that to Ruth. Until I have that babe in my arms, and his mother where she wants to be, it could all fall apart.’
Clemency tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair, thinking. ‘You realise what a miracle this all is, don’t you?’
‘The child, you mean?’
Clemency nodded. ‘That – and even for me, Eliza and Libby. I went from famine to feast.’ She laughed a little. ‘From being so lonely I barely could draw breath, and now I have suddenly not one, but two women to choose from.’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘And you – and Ruth,’ she said. ‘Ruth wants a baby…’
‘And one appears as if out of nowhere.’ Maxine sighed. ‘The world is organised in ways I do not always understand.’
‘You know what they say – truth is stranger than fiction.’ Clemency stretched and yawned. ‘I’m going to miss seeing Auntie Hinemoa,’ she said. ‘I love that woman. And your mother – I wish I could see her too.’
Maxine’s lips stretched in a smile. ‘Do you remember what Auntie was like when we were little, and Mum took us to the marae for summer holidays?’
Clemency did. ‘They were the best times of my childhood,’ she said. And she did not consider that she was exaggerating at all. As a motherless child with a largely absent father, the warmth and chaos of Maxine’s extended maternal family had been a balm for her lonely soul. She was still fervently glad that their fathers had been such established friends, and that her father had given his blessing for her to accompany Maxine and her mother whenever they went home to visit. Even being the one little white girl running around hadn’t meant anything. The Maori children had teased her and her p̅akeh̅a foibles, but they’d taken her under their wing too, as though she was one of their own. Clemency owed Maxine’s mother and her family a lot.
‘I’ll organise the rooms at the Hall of Residence,’ she said. ‘I can do that at least. Make sure they’re all ready for Hahana when you bring her back. She has enrolled, didn’t you say?
Maxine nodded. ‘Enrolled and accepted. The first girl from home to go to university. Aunty Hinemoa and Mum says everyone is very proud of her.’
‘I’m sure they are. She sounds a very determined young lady.’ Clemency was ticking through her new plans in her head. Going back to Dunedin was a given, and organising the rooms for Maxine’s young cousin, who was starting at the university medical school, was easy. She didn’t know what to think about Eliza yet, except that she want to see her, to sit at her bedside and make sure for herself that Eliza was all right.
It was easier to dwell on Maxine’s plans. ‘And the baby,’ she said. ‘If Hahana is coming back with you with the child, you’ve nothing to worry about.’ She shook her head. ‘I certainly would be no use there anyway. I’ve never held a baby in my life. I’d be afraid of dropping it.’
‘I’m afraid of dropping it,’ Maxine said. ‘Him,’ she corrected. She sighed. ‘I guess I can manage without you.’
‘Of course you can.’ Clemency got up and patted Maxine on the shoulder. ‘It was just a momentary fright that made you drag me with you.’
‘It’s not a small thing, you know,’ Maxine said. ‘I know whanau adoptions are common, but I’ve never been part of one before.’ She reached up and grasped hold of Clemency’s hand. ‘But Hahana is adamant – she wants her child brought up in the city, and where she can visit him while she studies.’
Clemency bent down and kissed her friend on the cheek. ‘That’s all good, then, isn’t it? Now, let’s go and eat. Both of us have big days ahead of us.’
Although she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to eat, or to sleep later. Her stomach was a knot of nervousness.
And anticipation at the thought of seeing Eliza again. Although, she wasn’t sure if she should admit that to herself.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Clemency opted to take a taxicab from the train station out to Port Chalmers and to her house. The alternative had been to telephone Libby and ask her to meet her with the motor car, and that, she’d decided, did not suit her. She wanted to be able to deal with Libby in her own time, without having the necessary and probably unpleasant conversation foisted on her as soon as she’d alighted from the train.
It wasn’t going to happen with Libby. Clemency had put it into such blunt words to herself on the train down from Christchurch, after bidding Maxine farewell. She’d tried to be fair and examine her feelings to gather whether she might have felt drawn to Libby, had Eliza not been on the scene.
But Eliza was on the scene, so the whole question was just an intellectual exercise, she’d decided. But not until she’d thought to herself that Libby, while perfectly interesting and lovely, did not stir her passions – something which may not have been a requirement, at least until Eliza came along.
And so, she was back full circle again. Eliza had come along, and although Clemency did not know what would come of the love affair, every nerve in her body told her she must find out. Distance, people said, made the heart grow fonder, and while Clemency wasn’t quite willing to admit yet that her heart was at all involved, she was certainly fond of Eliza.
Very fond.
The taxicab pulled around the driveway and stopped. Clemency climbed from the motor car and drew in a deep breath. Her stomach fluttered nervously, and the hairs stood up on her arms as though she were cold. It was still, and damp, and her lungs filled with the scent of leaves and soil and grass – life. She paid the driver, grasped her case and stood looking at her own house while the taxicab turned around and went slowly back down the driveway.
It was early evening, with the sun blushing behind silver-grey clouds. The house’s windows appeared opaque, the sky and trees reflected in the glass, the eaves dripping with the recent rain. Clemency looked at it all and thought about the life inside her house. She could almost feel Riley moving around in the kitchen, her presence warm and solid, while Dot darted around her like a dragonfly, young and iridescent. Clemency blinked at her fancy and a smile touched her lips, but the fancy didn’t go away. The house was real to her in the damp summer evening, and upstairs, she could feel Eliza’s presence, simultaneously warm and heavy, light and cool. If Dot was a dragonfly, Clemency mused, what was Eliza? A butterfly? She shook her head. Maybe, maybe not. Eliza did not flit, she moved through the world with a considered fluidity. Clemency couldn’t come up with the right metaphor. She put the notion aside, deciding it would come to her, with time.
She smiled and breathed in the summer rain-scented air again, glad to be hom
e. In just another moment, she would let herself into the house, go upstairs and put down her case, take off her hat and coat. Then she would look in on Eliza.
‘Clemency?’
Clemency’s gaze had been on the cloud-ridden windows, and she started, looking for the person who had spoken her name. For a moment, her heart thought it had been Eliza who had spoken to her, but of could, Eliza had no voice that could make itself be heard to the ear.
It was Libby who had said her name, and who hesitated at the side of the house, standing on the path that wound around from garage and driveway to the front entrance.
‘Clemency?’ she repeated, then stepped forward, a smile appearing on her face.
Clemency looked at her and thought the smile an uncertain one, slipping slightly as Libby waited for her to answer.
‘I expected to meet you at the station,’ Libby said, taking a few more steps forward, her fingers knotted together in front of her.
Finally, Clemency spoke. ‘I took a taxicab,’ she said.
Libby nodded. ‘I know. I heard the sound of the motor car.’
They stared at each other. Clemency thought how much she wanted to go inside, put her case down, remove her hat and coat and check on Eliza.
Libby wasn’t sure what she ought to be thinking. Or how she should move ahead with the conversation they obviously needed to have. Clemency wasn’t being forthcoming.
‘Here,’ Libby said at last, moving forward rapidly. ‘Let me take your case.’ She almost pried it from Clemency’s fingers and turned back to the house. ‘You must be terribly tired. Riley has dinner almost ready – I’m sure you’re famished as well.’ She glanced at Clemency who followed her with a shuttered expression on her face. She looked back at the path, picking her way over the stones, which were slippery with rain. ‘Thank you for coming back,’ she said.
‘Why?’ Clemency asked.
Libby was nonplussed. ‘Why what?’