by Vicky Adin
Putting aside the newspaper, Elias returned to the workshop to resume where he’d left off shaping the smaller of the two cabinets he’d been commissioned to make. Woody insisted the smaller one should be finished first, to Elias’s consternation, since Mr Court’s larger order would bring in more reward. But it wasn’t his place to question.
Again, under the spell and aroma of the native timbers Elias loved the most, his thoughts could wander. After the most glorious of New Year’s Eve celebrations, the next day he and Alice had attended the picnic at Matiatia Bay on Waiheke Island.
Against all his instincts, Elias enjoyed the trip. The passengers experienced an unusual sense of movement and power aboard the SS Kawau as it surged through the gentle waves of the Waitemata, creating a white-water wake like a snow-laden road after being ploughed. Elias found the jaunt by steamship far more exhilarating than the paddle steamer the evening before. The Eagle had also churned up the water like lather but the slow, unwieldy vessel hadn’t excited him like this.
The expanse of water and smell of the ocean brought back memories of the ship that had brought him to New Zealand ten years earlier. In those days, his anger and resentment battled against anything remotely agreeable and he turned his bitterness into animosity: for the water, the ship and the people who had taken him across the world. He had never fathomed Gwenna’s love for the harbour, until now.
But it wasn’t only the joys of the harbour, the natural bushland of Waiheke Island, its beaches and festivities that had made the day so successful. He and Alice had also set a wedding date. Rather than wait, they agreed on Saturday February 2nd. Alice’s reasoning was more emotional than practical.
“Two for Two,” she said. It was all they needed, two people together. The rest would simply fall into place.
* * *
Elias had no idea what had come over Janetta. Whether the changes in him had triggered a change in her, or whether something else had sparked the shift, he couldn’t say, but since her first visit back in November, Janetta now called in to the workshop most weeks. The two of them had almost reached the point of being comfortable, if not friendly.
Alice offered her a cup of tea or some other refreshment.
“Thank you, dear, but I won’t be staying. I just want to catch up with Elias for a few minutes.”
Woody never objected. As long as Alice was happy.
“I won’t keep Elias long, Mr Woodman, I promise, but it’s so good to talk to him without the rest of the family interfering. No offence, Alice, dear. I meant my sister mostly, who would interrupt and correct me.”
Elias inwardly cringed whenever anyone referred to family as something whole and worthwhile.
Janetta told him innumerable stories about Gwenna and Louisa. Elias learnt something new about their state of flux with every conversation, but he rarely heard anything about Mam. He wondered why, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to ask about her, yet.
Those months after Gwenna and Charlie had left ... Elias shuddered, remembering the time when the devil had reached so far into his soul that he’d mutated into a beast he’d rather forget. Those months when there’d been the two of them living in the house – him and Mam – had been the turning point in their relationship. Since then, other people had come between them again and he’d maintained a distance.
On the few occasions he’d stood watching the shop and all Gwenna had achieved, hoping to catch Bethan on her own, he’d been disappointed. Every time she left the house she had someone with her: two infants in a double baby carriage, who Janetta had told him were Tillie’s Olwen and Gwenna’s George; or Charlie, often; or Tillie; sometimes Tom Griffiths; and of late Hugh Powell. Elias couldn’t fit Hugh into the picture. Janetta had not mentioned him, but obviously, he’d returned from the war.
Never once had Elias seen Bethan by herself, and he recoiled from exposing his shame in front of anyone else. In the end, he would turn on his heel and return to Alice and Woody, who only knew the recreated Eli.
“Elias?” Janetta began haltingly, dragging him back to the present. “Do you remember how Louisa could get when things didn’t go her way?”
“What about it?”
“She’s behaving like that now. All snappy and argumentative. Restless. Impatient even. Have you heard anything?”
Elias shook his head. He had less to do with Louisa now than ever. He couldn’t even remember her married name. Wed a butcher, he vaguely recalled. “What’s it to me?”
“Nothing, I suppose. Except ... well ...” Janetta explained, “This family’s had enough of its share of troubles and upsets, don’t you think? I don’t want to see a second generation caught up in a similar turmoil. Isn’t it time we all made amends?”
Elias questioned why Janetta needed to make amends. His faults he acknowledged. He doubted Gwenna needed to make amends to anyone – if anything, she was the one sinned against, and not only by him. He had refused to accept it for a long time, but he and Gwenna were alike in many ways, both proud and stubborn.
At the cusp of starting a new life with Alice, he wondered what Janie wanted from life. For so long he’d shoved his family away, kept them all at arm’s length, not caring for one moment what happened to them. All he’d cared about was his hurts, his problems, but being with Alice had made him see beauty in the people and things around him, things he’d not noticed before.
Tillie loved beautiful things. In her perfect world, people would live in harmony with one another. Gwenna would fulfil her father’s dream – she was driven enough to fight off any naysayers. By Janetta’s account, Louisa had numerous friends and loved being the centre of attention. It wasn’t all he remembered. Independent was the word he’d use to describe her – she’d hated being restricted or bound by rules, even as a youngster.
But Janie? He couldn’t decide about her. She wasn’t creative like Tillie, Gwenna or him, nor as self-reliant as Louisa, but she was more than capable, with far more common sense.
“What are you getting at, Janie?”
“I just thought, what with you getting married soon ... you are, aren’t you?”
Elias nodded without giving the date away.
“Maybe we could gather together to welcome Alice into the family. I’m sure Gwenna would allow us to meet in her shop, there’s room there, and Mam would love it. She’d put on a feast I’m sure. And ... we’d have to talk to Alice, of course,” Janie rattled on. Now she had the chance to give her thoughts free rein there would be no stopping the floodgates until she’d finished. “But it’s a chance for absolution for all the wrongs we’ve done each other.”
Elias said nothing, but he thought plenty. There’s no way I could put myself through that. And what has Janie done?
“Oh, Elias. Please,” begged Janetta. “So much has changed – none of us are the same people we used to be. Look at you – if you hadn’t made the change, none of us would be as we are today. Is there a chance each of us can learn to forgive, if not forget?”
Elias gazed at her for several moments in total bewilderment. “You’re asking the wrong person, Janetta. I can accept people might need to forgive me, but who do I need to forgive?”
By openly admitting fault, his contrition and humiliation were complete. He bade her good day and returned to his work, her final word ringing in his ears.
“Yourself, Elias. Forgive yourself.”
32
Caught in a whirlwind
January 1901
Whatever plans anyone had for the week or even for the rest of the month, Tuesday January 22nd put a stop to all of them. As news of the death of Queen Victoria filtered through, the entire country went into mourning. The papers wrote endless columns about her reign and her achievements, detailing her life from child to queen, and all she endured. Crowds gathered in open places, black armbands appeared on the sleeves of men from the lowliest workers to the highest in political power. Women draped in black, talked and wept for the poor woman who had lived a long and dignified li
fe as a much-loved and respected monarch, but who suffered in her personal life. Workplaces closed, and the New Zealand ensign flew at half mast alongside the Union Jack on poles tied with black crape.
As the days passed, people sought news of every detail of what would happen next and the all-important question of when her funeral would take place. Albert, her estranged eldest son, whom she blamed for causing her beloved husband’s death decades earlier, had become the new monarch as Edward VII. His reputation as a playboy gave cause for much speculation and a healthy degree of cynicism.
Alice paid little heed to anything other than the date of Queen Victoria’s funeral: Saturday February 2nd.
“Oh, Eli. What shall we do?” Visibly distressed, Alice took both Elias’s hands in hers. “We can’t get married on the same day as the funeral. It wouldn’t be seemly, not that anyone would marry us anyway.”
Elias wrapped his arms around Alice and nestled her against his shoulder. She was much shorter than him and he loved the protective feeling coursing through his veins whenever he held her like this. She fixed her arms around his waist and tilted her head back. With their faces close together and their breath entwined, their lips were drawn to each other like a magnet. They kissed long and deep, their hands and arms in constant motion in an effort to draw closer to each other.
“Well then, my little sweet pea,” said Elias, when they separated their lips long enough to breathe, “my suggestion is we get married sooner. Today if we can.”
“Oh, Eli. Can we?” sighed Alice, dewy-eyed, taking a step back.
“Why not? Everything is in place, is it not? You have a dress to wear, I have the licence. What more do we need?”
Alice, always a little more practical than him, knew what was and what wasn’t possible. Her curls bounced as she shook her head. “We need a minister or registrar to start with, and witnesses and oh, I don’t know what else right this minute – but we could do the day after tomorrow.” Her eyes shone the more she thought about the possibilities. “Wednesday January 30th – it’s a half-holiday – and ...” Her inflection changed. “Eli?”
Still holding her hands in front of him, Elias laughed. “What are you angling for now?”
“I’d like to ask ... that is, you ... No ... I should ...” For once Alice didn’t quite know how to say what was on her mind.
“Come on, out with it. What’re you talking about?”
Alice took a deep breath. “Would you mind if Gwenna came?” she said in a rush.
“Gwenna?” First Janetta, and now Alice. What plan are these women hatching? He let her go and rubbed his hands through his hair.
“I want her to be my bridesmaid or matron of honour or whatever you call a married woman, except she isn’t married any more. Oh dear. And,” Alice rushed on without a break. “I’d like a hot chocolate after the ceremony with some of Tillie’s fudge, and your mam’s Welsh cakes and try those Glamorgan sausages I’ve heard about and ...”
He put his hands on her shoulders and bent down to face her, eye to eye. “Slow down, Alice. This is the first I’ve heard of any of this. What are you talking about?”
She blushed a bright pink from her chest all the way up to her hairline. Alice dropped her head, before raising it again to find him at her eye level. “I’ve been talking with ...”
Elias’s hands dropped from her shoulders. “Janetta,” he interrupted as he straightened up, recalling his sister’s suggestion. “That explains it. What’s she persuaded you into?”
“She’s not persuaded me, Eli. One day, Janie called when you were out with Dad and we got talking. I love Gwenna’s sweet shop.”
“What? You’ve been there?” Elias was bewildered. There was so much he didn’t know.
“Oh yes, all the time,” admitted Alice. “And I want to be part of who they are. I want us to be part of a whole family. Please, Eli. For me. It’s truly what I want.”
Elias still struggled with his old thoughts and feelings of blame towards the people who personified all he hated about himself. Now Alice wanted to drag him back into their fold. He couldn’t do it – he just couldn’t.
He turned away from her, paced, took deep breaths. “Alice. Do you have any idea what you’re asking?”
“Of course. But it’s nothing more than you are capable of, Eli.”
Alice sounded so calm, so sure, Elias struggled to comprehend they were talking about the same subject. He was also battling to keep his temper controlled.
“That’s not the point. You’ve said what you want, but what about what I want, Alice? What about me?”
She moved towards him and placed a hand on his arm. “This is about you, Eli. You’ll be better for ...”
“Better! You have no idea what you’re talking about. I want nothing to do with the Price family.” He brushed her hand from his arm and glared at her.
But Alice wasn’t easily put off. “Your mother is a Price, and I know you want to see her. Gwenna technically is a Jones, even if she has kept the Price name – it’s the name of a business – not a trap. And what’s Tillie done to you? Or Janetta for that matter? And hasn’t she asked your advice about Mrs Evans? I’ve not met her, but she sounds nice. And the little ones – and Charlie. What did they ever do to wrong you?”
His head ached with all her questions. “Alice. You must listen. I want nothing to do with any of them. My life was ruined because of them. I won’t go back. I won’t. All I want is you as my wife, wood to work and a future together, just you and me.”
“Honestly, Eli. You’re being silly now. They didn’t ruin your life. Nobody did. You simply hadn’t found what you wanted to do before. But you have now. And you can’t isolate yourself from reality. They are your family. They exist. They live a few streets away. You can’t pretend they don’t.”
The more Alice talked, the more agitated and perplexed he became.
“I can and I will.” He grabbed his hat from the peg on the door and left before he could say anything he would later regret.
But once outside and striding up the road, he didn’t quite know where to go. It was too early in the day to go to the pub – not that he wanted to any more. He enjoyed a quiet ale at the end of the day with Woody, but he didn’t want to get drunk any longer. For one thing, Alice complained at the smell and refused to come close to him for days. But mostly because it reminded him of the person he’d once been.
Passing The Edinburgh Castle reeking of that potent brewery smell Alice objected to, he strode the length of Newton Road. The climb up the hill to the junction of Ponsonby Road had him panting, but today he was glad of the exercise. The fresh air in his lungs stirred his brain into action.
One block along Ponsonby Road he stood and stared across the tops of the trees growing in Western Park and admired the harbour that had captured his affection after so many years of blaming it for his problems. He’d discovered so much about himself of late, thanks to Alice. A sense of peace filled him.
He’d never been known for soul-searching. His attendance at church had been more for appearances than true faith, and he’d never been certain what the words faith and truth meant.
Reflecting on what had brought him so low, he could see how his guilt had obscured much of the truth. Now, embarrassment and shame held him back from admitting fault to anyone.
How could a man, a real man, confess to such failure?
But Janetta believed he could. She had asked him to forgive – and, specifically, to forgive himself – if not forget, and to allow them to welcome Alice into the family circle. Alice had asked him to do the same. Could he trust them not to look at him with contempt as they used to look at the other person he used to be? Could he trust them not to tell Alice what he’d been like? Could he trust Alice to continue to love him when she learnt how contemptible he had once been? And she would, one day she would. Could he forgive himself and let the past go?
“Mr Hughes?” a voice queried behind him.
He turned to be greeted by Hugh Po
well.
Elias felt a wave of pity fill his heart. The man was half what he used to be. Elias extended his hand, which Hugh accepted limply. “It’s good to see you back, Hugh. How are you?”
Hugh nodded, acknowledging Elias’s words, but made no comment.
“I’ve seen you around, watching the shop,” said Hugh without any recrimination. “I hear you are quite successful these days.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” began Elias, surprised by the other man’s acclaim.
“I’m glad for your good fortune. And I want to thank you,” said Hugh.
“Thank me?” Astonishment complete, Elias blurted, “Whatever for?”
“For giving Gwenna ... begging your pardon, sir, Mrs Price, that is ... for giving her a chance and the ... well, freedom, I suppose is the word, to fulfil her dreams. It was good of you to walk away and hand the business over to her. She won’t let you down.”
Elias was too dumbfounded to comment.
Hugh raised his hat. “Good day, Mr Hughes. And I believe congratulations are in order, too.”
The ability to speak escaped him. Elias touched his hat and watched the other man walk off towards Karangahape Road. Why would anyone – Gwenna most of all – care one way or the other about letting him down?
He couldn’t make sense of the encounter any more than he could fathom why Janie and Alice thought him worthy of forgiveness. Hugh had just given Elias credit for something he had done for himself. His motives had been entirely selfish, an act of self-preservation rather than anything noble or honest. Yet his decision had earned their respect.
Just then, a group of young men in a jovial frame of mind walked past him, heading down Ponsonby Road.
One of them slapped Elias on the shoulder. “The Queen is dead, long live the King,” he chanted, dancing round in a circle. “Change is coming, I can feel it in the air.”
For the second time in as many minutes, Elias seemed unable to form a coherent thought, and his mouth was too dry to wrap his tongue around any words he might have formed.