by Bowes, K T
“Oh.” Hana made her voice sound disappointed. “I quite like that little girl in the red dress. She has pretty hair and a kind face.” The small girl pivoted on one leg at the top of a slide, her dark curls blowing in the breeze. As she made the decision to drop to her bottom and slither down, another child pushed past her, almost toppling her off. A teacher rushed over and intercepted him at the bottom, wagging her finger and pointing back up to the little girl.
“Dat naughty!” Outrage filled Phoenix Du Rose’s face and Hana saw the imprint of her husband’s sense of injustice blazing in the grey eyes. “Not do that!” She peered into Hana’s face and formed her words with exaggerated movements and wiggled her legs to be put down on the ground.
“The teacher’s sorting it.” Hana caught hold of the indignant child’s hand as she surged ahead along the path and through the front doors.
Phoenix fidgeted while the staff introduced themselves and then she kissed Hana with a quick and cursory peck on the cheek. Leslie got a kiss on her stomach and Mac received one to his woolly booted foot. Then the Du Rose child was gone, stomping through the outside doors and making a beeline for the climbing frame.
“Geez, she’s like her pa,” Leslie chortled, her breasts wrestling in their undersized bra. “Got a bee up her ass.”
“Er, excuse me.” Hana grabbed the attention of the nearest teacher and pointed at her daughter’s retreating back. “Phoenix saw another child push a little girl on the climbing frame. She’s gone to sort it out.”
“Ohkay.” The teacher dragged the word out and shot after Phoenix, attempting to divert her attention to something else. With a daughter as stubborn as Logan, Hana didn’t fancy the woman’s chances with any tactic other than the head on version.
“I should probably stay a while.” Hana rose on tip toes and her posture screamed separation anxiety.
“Well, I think you should run.” Leslie hoisted Mac up onto her hip, his legs almost doing the splits in the effort required to clip on. “Before the trouble starts.”
“What?” Hana whirled around, her mouth open.
“Get!” Leslie seized her slender wrist in her beefy fingers and hauled her towards the doorway. “She’s Logan Du Rose’s daughter and her whakapapa included Phoenix Te Wehi and Rongomai Te Wehi, the warrior. She’ll be fine.”
Hana groaned and squinted her eyes, watching through the open doorway as the teacher squatted down in front of Phoenix. The delicate child in the red dress seemed drawn to Hana’s daughter, her lips moving as if in slow motion.
“She’s an elective mute.”
“Sorry?” Hana jumped at the voice in her ear and moved away. A slight woman dangled a small boy from her hip, older than Mac but skinnier and blonde. “Josie. She’s never spoken, not as long as my daughter Hayley’s been coming here. I saw you arrive; is that your little girl?” She jerked her head towards Phoenix, who let go of the teacher’s hand and stood next to Josie. The older girl dwarfed her but accepted her presence, looking down on the top of Phoe’s head with interest.
“Yes. That’s Phoenix and I’m Hana.”
“Nice to meet you, Hana. Hayley’s on the tricycle outside; it’s the only reason she comes. She goes to school next term and then it’ll be this one’s turn. I’m Elisha by the way.” She bounced the grizzling child on her hip.
“Oh dear, what’s the matter?” Hana down-turned her lips in a sad face and looked at the child.
“Teething,” his mother said. “Big back ones, I think.”
“We just had that with Mac,” Hana replied, wincing. “My husband got this amazing gel stuff and it worked overnight.”
“What’s the name of it?” The blonde woman looked interested, her brow furrowing as though to remember every detail Hana spoke.
“I can’t remember. It’s homemade. It’s got a Māori name and I’m sure he said it was made from kawakawa leaves. I felt skeptical at first. It’s in the car; would you like me to get it? He looks in pain.”
“No thanks.” The woman’s face shut down and Hana felt the animosity rise. “I’ll get something from the pharmacy.”
Hana nodded, the moment turned awkward and uncomfortable. She fought to retrieve the former camaraderie. “I didn’t believe either at first, but it worked.”
“Let’s get you home little man.” Elisha gave Hana a sweet smile and turned away. “See you again,” she called over her shoulder and kept walking, her grizzling son dribbling on her patterned blouse. In the distance Hana saw Leslie putting Mac into the ute, rubbing noses with him and making him giggle.
“Hey, don’t worry.” A dark skinned teacher touched her hand. “Pakeha don’t understand our ways. I’m glad you do though, kōtiro.” She winked at Hana and passed, trailing a little boy who ticked his head upwards at regular intervals. Hana smiled at him and waved, rewarded by soulful brown eyes and the hint of a smile.
“Youse took yer time,” Leslie chided her as Hana clambered into the passenger seat. “This rūruhi needs a coffee.”
“You’re not an old woman,” Hana grumbled. She watched Elisha fitting her son into the tiny car Leslie beat to the parking spot and her heart sank. She turned to her mother-in-law with misery in her face. “I don’t know how that happened.”
“What, me getting old? I didn’t notice it either. Don’t stress.” Leslie patted her knee. “I’m fine with it.”
“No, one minute I’m walking into a new place and the next minute, someone dislikes me.”
“Who?” Leslie peered around the car park, spotting numerous women and one lonely man slotting smaller children back into vehicles.
“Oh, just someone who didn’t appreciate my offer of that teething gel Logan got for Mac. It didn’t help that you’d already waged war over a parking space.”
Leslie humphed and clacked her false teeth as she pushed her lips up in a disgruntled fish face. “Don’t worry what others think of you, Hana. Worry about what you think of yourself.”
Hana nodded and fastened her seatbelt which shifted the file on her knee. She opened it and fingered the documents inside. “Did you know Wiri had Lincoln as one of his middle names?”
“No.” Leslie pulled out of the car park ahead of Elisha, forcing the other woman to jam on the brakes. “It’s a common name. What’s the problem?”
“So, you don’t think it’s anything to do with Lincoln, as in stable manager, Lincoln?”
“No idea. Ask your husband.” Leslie turned left without indicating and Hana held on to the door handle and closed her eyes. “Where’s a cafe then?”
“Back there.” Hana jabbed with her finger without opening her eyes. “You’ve passed three.”
Leslie stamped on the brakes and Hana screamed. “Please, just let me drive!” She opened her eyes and looked at her surroundings. “Pull over in this layby and bloody indicate first!”
“You’re so damn picky!” Leslie growled. “Drive, don’t drive. Make yer mind up!”
Hana ground her teeth to suppress the biting comments which rose into her mouth and almost escaped. She swapped seats with Leslie, annoyed when the old woman slid over to sit on her knee before she’d managed to hop out onto the foot rail. A fine drizzle prickled her skin and she peeked in the side window and met her son’s curious green eyes. Settling in the driver’s seat and altering the settings so she could see over the steering wheel, Hana made time to turn and smile at her baby boy. He responded with a shy grin and kicked his legs, looking away and then peeking back at her. “Right,” she said, grinding the gears by accident, “Time for coffee.”
She hid Wiri’s documents in the glove box while Leslie seized Mac and ran for the cafe door. The old kuia barged other customers out of the way in her single minded quest for caffeine. By the time Hana stood on the welcome mat shaking raindrops off her jacket, Leslie stormed towards a table like a heat seeking missile. “I’ve ordered,” she called to Hana and the occupants of the cafe turned to stare.
“Thanks.” Sinking into a hard backed chair, Hana
ran her hands through her damp, frizzled hair. Mac giggled and she did it again to amuse him. “I forgot how wet Hamilton can be after the mountain.”
“Aye,” Leslie replied. “From drought to drench. Like my sex life.” She cackled and Hana darted nervous glances at the nearest table.
“Don’t you mean that the other way around?” she dared to ask and Leslie sighed, bending to strip the heavy jacket from Mac’s shoulders so he could bend his torso. “You did just abandon your husband.”
Leslie snorted like a bull and Hana jerked backwards and changed the subject at speed. “Tell me why Wiri has Lincoln’s name in his. Was there some doubt about his parentage?” Her brow knitted thinking of the small boy; a carbon copy of a Du Rose, his likeness to Nev and Logan undeniable.
“Na. He’s pure Du Rose. No way some blondie fathered him.” Leslie echoed her thoughts and Hana nodded.
“I shouldn’t cast aspersions,” she sighed. “Especially not after what Jack tried to do. Mac and I nearly died because of his suspicions.”
“Yeah, but you birthed a karaka babby!” Leslie cackled and Hana’s expression faded into irritation.
“Stop calling my son orange!” she hissed and the old woman’s eyes lit with mischief.
“Will if I want to; he doesn’t mind. He can’t hear me.”
“I mind!” Hana gritted her teeth and then relaxed her facial expression as the barista brought over their coffee. “Anyway, we don’t know that and you shouldn’t listen at doors.”
“One latte, one affogato and a fluffy,” the barista said, leaning the tray on a corner of the table to unload.
“Thank you.” Hana watched the movement of his strong hands, the olive skin and slight build reminding her of Bodie and making her heart sting. No more than nineteen, the young man chucked Mac under the chin and winked at him as he turned and left them to their drinks. Hana dragged her phone from her pocket and peered at the empty screen. Still no response to her text message to him.
“Here you go, moko,” Leslie said to Mac, shifting him round on her knee. She seized the teaspoon and gathered a blob of the frothed milk onto it, inserting it between his eager lips and laughing at the confused face he pulled as the bubbles crushed against his tongue. “It’s miraka kore kirīmi. Won’t hurt you.”
“Why did you order trim milk?” Hana asked and Leslie shrugged.
“Just did. Why do you want to know about Lincoln?”
Hana sighed and reached for her latte, watching as the ice cream in Leslie’s affogato slid lower in the glass, hot coffee turning it into a light brown syrup. “I overheard a phone conversation between Lincoln and someone else. I don’t believe he’s as innocent as he claims; somebody else was involved.”
Leslie shook her head. “What’s done is done, kōtiro. Let it go. He’s been in prison a long time for an innocent man or one covering for another.”
Hana stopped with her mug resting against her lips. “I never mentioned him covering for anyone else. What made you say that?”
Leslie’s cheeks adopted an uncomfortable flush and she licked her lips, reaching for her affogato while Mac pushed bubbles in and out of his pink mouth. “Please, Hana. Just leave it.”
“Then tell me the truth!” Hana snapped. “A man I loved and respected held a gun to my baby’s head not so long ago. Forgive me for not being comfortable around a man who served time in prison for murder.”
“Manslaughter,” Leslie corrected, a moustache of coffee stained ice cream across her top lip. Hana opened her mouth to point it out and then closed it again in revenge as the barista grinned across from the counter. “It’s over now. You need to leave well alone.” She spooned a knob of ice cream into Mac’s open mouth and he jerked in shock and pulled a face.
Hana squeezed the bridge of her nose between thumb and forefinger and sized up her mounting issues in order of importance. “Please don’t give him coffee.” She sighed. “Bodie hasn’t called and you’ve abandoned your marriage and won’t tell me what’s wrong. Caleb’s keeping a secret and I don’t know what to do about it because Logan won’t help me. Now there’s a murderer waiting for me at the hotel. Oh and apparently someone’s seen Asher hanging around the hotel when he’s not allowed.”
Leslie laughed. “Linc’s not waiting for ya, honey. Looks more to me like he’s avoiding you. Your son’s pig-headed and will need you before you need him. Don’t worry about me and Alfie and I don’t wanna talk about either of those bloody teenagers right now.”
“So, Caleb did something at the hotel? With Asher? That’s why you brought him here.” Hana spread her hands wide in placation. “Just give me a clue, please?”
“Nev and Linc were best friends growing up.” Leslie’s eyes narrowed as she chose to throw Hana a lifeline which didn’t involve something closer to home. “Michael and Logan knocked around with them too, although they weren’t meant to. It couldn’t be helped in a small township like ours and boys will be boys. When Logan reached nine, his mother found the four of them drinking behind the cow shed and took all her boys out of school. She home-schooled Barry, Michael and Logan after that. She didn’t want Logan around Reuben’s boys in case they gave away the secret of his parentage and she may have involved him, because Nev stopped visiting. Lincoln didn’t though. He stayed friends with all of them although it wasn’t always easy walking the line between the two sides of the family.”
Leslie reached for her drink again, Mac’s head lolling against her shoulder as he grew sleepy. “Jack liked Linc and employed him when the boy left school, wanting to train him to take over the stock and horse side of the business. Miriam stopped worrying about keeping the boys apart as they grew up because Logan went to boarding school on the north shore in term time and then university and away to England. She didn’t have a problem with Linc anyway, only Nev. Linc married Logan’s second cousin, Fiona Du Rose, but they were too young. She always wanted to be a doctor and started at the university in Auckland. She came home at weekends and they seemed to cope all right. Linc lived in the bunk house with the stockmen and it worked for a while. They hit a rocky patch and he went to live in Auckland with her, driving back to the stables six days a week. He did that for years. Nobody knows why he started an affair but these things happen. Next thing, the mistress is dead and Linc’s on a murder charge.”
“I guessed he and Fiona weren’t still together.” Hana remembered the strain which accompanied their chance meeting. “Who came back to the township first? Lincoln or Fiona?”
“No idea.” Leslie looked bored with the conversation. “Doesn’t matter. She divorced him even before his case went to trial. Reckon a marriage is over the minute one of them cheats.”
Hana nodded and watched the rain pound against the huge shop front. Her mind strayed to Bodie’s father, who’d cheated on her and left her to find out after his death. “It sure is,” she said with a deep sigh, the pain long since dulled by her marriage to Logan. But the humiliation of having not been quite good enough for someone remained to undermine her confidence and render her suspicious and untrusting. “What’s worse? Finding out your husband’s had an affair or that he’s in police custody for killing his mistress?”
“It saved Fiona a job,” Leslie cackled. Hana’s eyes opened wide in horror.
“What?”
Leslie shook her head, looking amused. “Slow down, girly. The cops questioned her, but she’d spent six weeks as a locum in Christchurch. Nobody suspected Fiona. I can’t imagine how awful she felt.” Leslie lowered her voice as an elderly couple took possession of the table behind Hana. “Linc didn’t mean to kill her; they argued and he pushed her backwards. That’s what the police said.”
“Isn’t that what happened?” Hana leaned forward.
“It’s not what he says happened. Linc always maintained he left her alive. The cops set up one of those drink driving road blocks on the mountain road and stopped him on his way back to the farm. He realised he didn’t have his licence with him and went back to Pania’s f
or his wallet. When he got there, he found her lying on the floor bleeding and called an ambulance. Linc admitted to the affair straight away and they found his DNA in the bedroom. The prosecutor made a case for her wanting to end the affair and him getting angry and pushing her. They started with murder and bargained down to manslaughter. The whole township chipped in towards his defense and Liza acted as his barrister. But he gave in overnight. Alfie thinks he received Fiona’s divorce papers and just gave up. And then his poor mother died during the trial from an overdose of antidepressants and Linc wanted it over.”
“Maybe.” Hana finished her drink and viewed her beautiful, sleeping son across the table. “I meant to go to the supermarket after this but Mac’s gone to sleep. There’s no fresh food in the house. We’ve eaten everything I brought with us.”
“I’ll do it,” Leslie offered, her face brightening. “I’ll drop you back at the house and go to the supermarket; I’d love a chance to see what these Hamiltonians have on offer. Reckon they think they’re better than the rest of New Zealand, so I can look for myself.”
“Thanks.” Hana reached into her purse for Logan’s credit card. She slid it across the table into Leslie’s waiting fingers. “It’s the same pin number as last time. Please don’t drive like a maniac and ding the ute; I can’t bear any more tension in the house.”
“I won’t.” Leslie bundled the small boy to her copious breasts, almost smothering him as she stood. Hana paid cash at the till and followed her mother-in-law outside to the ute and helped buckle the snoozing baby in. The rain eased for long enough to get home and with her ill humour abated, Leslie drove with as much restraint as a hoon in a drivers’ education class.
“It’s just a supermarket,” Hana warned her as she stood on the front porch and watched Leslie crank the ute into reverse. “I think you’re overestimating the level of excitement on offer.”
Chapter 32
Backbone
Leslie waved and screeched through the school gate, armed with Logan’s ute and his vulnerable credit card. Hana pushed the front door open and took her sleeping son upstairs, laying him in the travel cot and turning on the baby monitor. Then she went on the hunt for Caleb, figuring he must be on the ground floor somewhere. “I didn’t hear you come in,” he stammered, a guilty look on his face. He removed the boot of his cast from the low coffee table in front of him and muted the TV.