Hunting BLind: It's Every Family's Deepest Fear

by Richardson, Paddy

  ‘It’s a lovely place.’

  ‘It is, isn’t it? Mind you, I’ve had a bit of help. Dan’s been good. Always recommends this place to his clients. I have him over for his dinner a couple of times a week. Nice bloke, Dan.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘Had a tough time.’ She’s leaning forward confidingly.

  ‘Has he?’

  ‘Oh, very tough. Married to a lovely girl when he came back from overseas. English. Then she came down with cancer. Died that quickly. Left him with Rosie. She was only a wee thing then. Don’t think she’d even remember her mum now. Dan’s got a housekeeper in. Gives Rosie her teas most nights and lives in whenever Dan’s away.’

  ‘I suppose he must be away a lot.’

  ‘Quite a lot. Rosie comes first, though. He’s a good dad.’

  ‘It must be tough bringing her up on his own.’

  ‘Julie, that’s the housekeeper, she’s very good with her. Nice woman. Local.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Here I am chattering away again. Now, what about you, Stephanie? Are you enjoying yourself here? Have you decided how long you’re going to stay on?’

  ‘I haven’t made up my mind yet. I hope that’s okay. I’m kind of just taking it as it comes, I suppose. No particular plans.’

  The phone rings and Aline goes to answer it. Sun is pouring into the dining room. It’s painted yellow with a glossy white trim. Stephanie takes another piece of toast, spreads it with apricot jam.

  Taking it as it comes. No particular plans.

  I’m trying to find my mother’s ex-lover. I think he killed my sister.

  Crazy to even think of that in this room gleaming with fresh paint; the green tapestry padded chairs, the cushiony carpet, thick gold embossed curtains – Aline would call them drapes – sun coming through shining, smear-free windows.

  Julie, that’s the housekeeper, is very good with her. Nice woman.

  How old is Julie? What does Julie look like?

  More craziness. This great bear of a man, this hunter. She tops up her tea from the pot, walks back to the cottage and sits on the doorstep. What should she do today? What should she do tomorrow? Stay? Leave? If she leaves where should she go? She’s run out of ideas.

  She checks her phone. Two missed calls. Minna would you call me?

  She switches on her computer. At least the internet connection is working today. Keep phoning. The only remotely possible way of finding him, the only way she can think of is to phone. Every learning institution in New Zealand if she has to.

  And if that doesn’t work, then what?

  Come on, Stephanie. All you can do is try. If you can’t find him, so be it, you’ve done your best. You’ve got somewhere to stay, somewhere comfortable, warm, and within your budget.

  She spends most of the day on the phone. Takes a break by going down to the beach, climbing over the rocks and watching the ebb and surge of the sea, the thick lashings of ropey seaweed lunging onto the sand.

  Nothing. No Edward, no Ward, no Ed Black.

  ‘We do have a Peter Black working here.’

  ‘Uh, could you tell me how long he’s worked there?’

  ‘Oh, twenty years at least. He was here way before I came.’

  ‘It can’t be him. But thanks anyway for your time.’

  So it goes. That day. The next. And the next.

  She goes over to the house for dinner. A Canadian couple. Thin, muscled arms, matching track suits, wide white smiles, tanned faces. Peg and Jim. Your country is so be-ew-diful.

  No Dan. Not that night. Nor the next. Just a somewhat despondent Peg and Jim. Peg has an infected blister on her left heel. It’s giving her hell and she can’t do the walks they’ve planned and Jim doesn’t want to do them either now, not without her, it wouldn’t be fair. They’ll have to stay on here a few days longer and, though this is a lovely place, they’re probably not going to get to do the Heaphy. The Heaphy was going to be the highlight of the trip.

  She hasn’t seen him by the end of the week. Nor has she tracked down Ed Black.

  But there he is for dinner again on Saturday night. He walks into the dining room, grins at her, comes straight over, sits beside her and she feels it, that curious, infinitesimal quiver at the base of her stomach.

  ‘I didn’t think you’d still be here,’ he says, ‘but I was hoping you might be.’

  How do you do this? How do you indicate you may possibly be interested in why he was hoping she might be there? That’s without being too obvious and eager. Okay, Stephanie, you’re a big girl. Thirty-one. You can talk to a man. If you don’t know how to flirt like any other adult woman, at least you can draw on your counselling strategies.

  ‘You were hoping I might still be here?’

  ‘Yeah. I didn’t think I was quite convincing enough in our conversation about hunting. I wanted to have a rematch.’

  ‘A rematch?’

  ‘Another chance to try to convince you all hunters aren’t macho thugs. I’ve got to warn you, though, I’ve got an added advantage on my side tonight.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I’m providing dinner tonight. Venison.’

  ‘What if I said I’m vegetarian?’

  ‘No, you’re not. I saw you tucking into Aline’s stew on Monday night. Seemed to be enjoying it too.’

  She laughs. ‘That’s not terribly flattering. Sounds as if I was being greedy.’

  ‘But it was a good stew, eh?’

  ‘I’m warning you that you might not have that much of an advantage. The only time I’ve ever had venison it was tough and I didn’t much like the taste.’

  ‘Too strong? Gamy?’

  ‘It was.’

  ‘Not this time.’

  He’s right. The venison is good; the flavour delicate and the meat tender. Peg and Jim are fractionally more lively. Peg’s heel is better: the scab has healed and fallen off so it’s not rubbing against her sock any more. What they’re going to do is head over to Golden Bay tomorrow. The Abel Tasman isn’t nearly so tough and they can kayak if the heel gives Peg trouble. Not the Heaphy but them’s the breaks.

  ‘We’ve only got another ten days,’ Peg says, ‘and we want to make the most of it before we have to get back to our real lives.’

  ‘Back to the cliff-face,’ Jim says.

  Dan looks across the table at Stephanie. ‘What do you do in your real life?’

  ‘I’ve just about finished training in psychiatry.’

  ‘Really?’ Aline says. ‘I don’t think we’ve ever had a psychiatrist staying here before.’

  Dan grins. ‘You’re analysing us, are you, Stephanie?’

  ‘Oh yes. I’ve never had the opportunity to observe a bloodthirsty hunter before.’

  ‘I’m not going to be able to convince you, am I? You’ve got me labelled and there’s nothing I can do to change your mind.’

  ‘Absolutely not.’ She smiles back at him.

  ‘Would anyone like any more?’ Aline says. ‘More veges, Peg? Jim? More meat?’

  ‘I’ll have some more of the meat and that kum-arah,’ Jim says. ‘Be-ew-diful.’

  Aline passes the platter. ‘Some more, Stephanie? Dan? Oh Dan, I got a fax just this afternoon. Those Canadians that were booked for next week. They’ve cancelled. Said they’ve got to go home early.’

  ‘That leaves me with most of next week free,’ he says. ‘Julie’s away so Rosie’s booked herself in to stay with the Calders. She and Milly have been looking forward to this for a while, got all sorts of schemes going. She’s not going to want to change her plans for just another week with the old man.’

  ‘You might get another booking,’ Aline says.

  ‘Yeah, but I might just head out on my own.’ He turns to Stephanie. ‘Why don’t you come along as well?’

  ‘Me?’

  ‘Yeah, you. Find out what it’s all about.’

  ‘I couldn’t.’

  ‘Never been out in the bush?’

  ‘I’ve done some t
ramping.’

  ‘Well then, you’ll be fine.’

  ‘No. No, really. I couldn‘t.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Everyone around the table is watching her. She feels her face get hot. Jim and Peg are looking vaguely miffed as if they wish they’d been asked.

  ‘It’s a fabulous opportunity. What do you charge for these hunting trips, Dan? Around three and a half k, isn’t it?’ Jim says. He looks over at Peg. ‘Hon, maybe we should rethink?’

  ‘I don’t think my foot would stand it,’ Peg says unhappily.

  ‘Three thousand five hundred dollars to shoot at animals?’ Stephanie says.

  ‘But for that they get my professional guidance and total attention. And my cuisine.’

  ‘Dan would look after you, Stephanie,’ Aline says. ‘You wouldn’t come to any harm if that’s what you’re worrying about. You can absolutely trust him.’

  ‘It’s nothing like that. It’s just that, well, I just couldn’t do it.’

  ‘Why couldn’t you do it?’ His eyes are shining wickedly, he’s teasing her.

  How long is it since anyone teased you, flirted with you? How long is it since anyone treated you in anything other than a serious and strictly professional way?

  ‘For one thing, I don’t have any gear with me.’

  ‘Not a problem. I supply everything. Boots, thermals, parkas, the lot.’

  ‘I’m not that fit. I might not be able to keep up with you. I could hold you back or I might get lost.’

  That grin. Irritating. So bloody irritating. And so charming as well.

  ‘I’d slow down. Stephanie, on my honour, I promise I would not lose you.’

  ‘I hate guns.’

  ‘That’s okay, we’d be using rifles.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Yes I do. But why not give it a go? You’re on holiday, you’re in a new place, so how about trying a whole new experience? It’d give you something to tell all your friends when you get back home.’

  ‘I haven’t even decided how long I’m staying on.’

  ‘Think about it. I’ll be leaving Monday morning, back Thursday night. I’ll call you tomorrow, see if you’re interested. Okay?’

  ‘Well, okay, but I really don‘t—’

  ‘Just think about it.’

  He’s gone shortly after Aline brings out coffee, fruit, cheese. Stephanie escapes to the cottage. Her face is still warm and she feels cross, a little ridiculous how could he do that, ask her to go hunting? Was he only teasing, getting a bit of a kick out of making fun of this rather serious city woman? Hunting, for God’s sake, she’s never even held a rifle. She couldn’t possibly shoot at anything. She can’t go.

  But why not take the risk? Why shouldn’t she give it a go?

  Just think about it. Just think about it.

  She’s afraid. Afraid of being out there. Afraid of the dark, of being lost. Afraid of this man, how attractive he is. Afraid to be on her own with him.

  A few hours later she’s still awake, staring into the darkness, listening to the sounds she’s become accustomed to: the possum that skims across the roof, the tree that brushes up against the window.

  She switches on the light, makes tea. She turns on her computer, googles hunting, idly skims through the information. Fishing and hunting, fish ’n’ hunt is N.Z.’s … Hunting and outdoor supplies. Hunting is the practice of pursuing animals for food, recreation or trade.

  There’s a list of methods. Baiting, beagling, camouflage, flushing. Blind hunting.

  She pauses on that. Blind hunting is waiting for animals from a concealed position. She scrolls down. And here it is. A Lucky’s Hunting Blind ready to set up in the wink of an eye. She stares curiously at the image of a tent-shaped structure coloured to match tree foliage.

  Ready for you to conceal yourself in. To wait in, hide in, until you bag your trophy.

  Is that what he did? Concealed himself within a camouflage of niceness, ordinariness, while he waited and watched?

  And now she’s hunting as well. Scrabbling around in the dark trying to find out, trying to find him. Frantically, blindly hunting. Hunting blind.

  31.

  She’ll go. Knows it as soon as she wakes in the morning. And when he phones it’s almost worth the discomfort and anxiety and pure bloody fear to hear the astonishment in his voice.

  ‘Hi Dan. It’s Stephanie. Uh, I’d like to come.’

  ‘What did you say?’

  ‘The answer’s yes.’

  He’s silent.

  ‘That’s if the offer’s still open.’

  ‘It’s still open. Hey, that’s great.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  ‘Right then.’

  ‘Uh, so what do I do to prepare? Do I bring food or— Well, what do I bring?’

  ‘Nothing to bring. I do everything.’

  ‘What about a sleeping bag?’

  ‘I bring those as well. Top grade. The type they use in the Antarctic.’

  ‘It sounds as if it’ll be cold. So, where do I, we sleep?’

  ‘Two nights in the great outdoors. One night of luxury.’

  ‘Luxury?’

  ‘You’ll see. What I’d like you to do, though, is come over this afternoon to get kitted out. Stay for dinner. That okay?’

  ‘Yes, that’s fine.’

  ‘Target practice as well. You ever used a rifle?’

  ‘I thought I’d be watching you hunt.’

  He laughs. ‘You’re not getting off that easily.’

  ‘I’ve never even held a rifle. I don’t want to.’

  ‘This afternoon, then? Around two? We can talk it over then.’

  ‘Well. Okay. And thanks.’

  ‘Don’t thank me until I’ve got you back safe and sound.’

  ‘That sounds a bit worrying.’

  He laughs again. ‘See you.’

  Dan’s place is, as Aline directs, a mile or so just up the road, turn hard left at the first drive you get to, watch out for it though, you can miss it because of the trees and the drive’s a bit rough. It’s that steep. Take it slow, won’t you?

  She almost misses it, has to reverse and negotiate her way back, then off the highway into the drive. Aline is right. It’s rough, just loose shingle, and steep and her heart’s in her mouth because after twenty metres she’s driving almost vertically and the car’s shuddering. The track narrows, she can see the sheer drop below and she has to brake and swerve around a curve and then she’s on a wider drive leading to the house.

  It’s a handsome sprawl of a place. She can hear Dave’s voice solid as, can’t go wrong with a place like that. Red brick and plaster. Leadlight windows. Virginia creeper covering one side. An expanse of lawn bordered by roses, lemon trees and lavender. It’s somehow more gracious than she’d expected. But what had she expected? A hut? It’s infuriating but he’s right. She’s put him in a box marked uncivilised; shoots animals.

  He comes around the side of the house and leans down over the open car window. ‘Afraid to get out?’

  ‘I’m recovering from your driveway. You should have a serious hazard sign out.’

  ‘I suppose I should do something about it. I’ve got a four-wheel drive so it’s not a bother. Think of it as just the beginning to an amazing adventure.’

  ‘You have a marvellous place,’ she says, getting out of the car.

  ‘Kathy and I bought it just before Rosie was born. We wanted some land and a house roomy enough to have guests. Kathy was a fantastic cook and the general idea was for me to do the hunting and guiding side and she’d do the food and accommodation. Never worked out that way. Still, Rosie and I are happy here. It’s a bit big for just the two of us but I hate feeling cramped.’

  ‘Is that why you like being way out in the bush? ’

  He glances at her. ‘I suppose it is. That’s perceptive of you.’

  She grins. ‘Comes with the job.’

  ‘With the job? Oh, I see. Head stuff, huh? You have to be a psy
chiatrist to work out why someone happens to be comfortable in certain environments?’

  ‘Not necessarily but it can help.’

  ‘Right. Well, let’s find some gear for you, Doctor Stephanie.’

  There’s a store room filled with wet-weather gear. He looks at her, measuring her up. ‘Not small. About average.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  He hands her a pile of clothes. Thermals, a parka, waterproof pants. Gloves, a hat. ‘What size shoe?’

  ‘Thirty-eight.’

  He looks through a shelf, passes her a pair of boots. ‘Try them on. The parka and pants as well. They need to fit properly. If they’re too big, it’ll make the walking tougher.’

  She pulls them on over her shorts and T-shirt. ‘I bet I look like a tube.’

  ‘Doesn’t matter what you look like. It’s being warm enough and keeping out the rain that’s important. Don’t want you getting hypothermia and me having to carry you back. What about the boots?’

  ‘They’re okay.’

  ‘They have to be absolutely right. Not too loose or tight. We’ll be walking quite a bit. Let’s see.’

  He bends down, prods around her toes, makes her turn round to check her heels. She feels like she used to as a kid going with Dave to buy her school shoes, no way you’re having those, they wouldn’t last five minutes, what you need is something solid, shoes are for walking in, right?

  ‘I’ll give you a small pack for your own stuff,’ he says. ‘Now. We’ve got a few hours to teach you how to handle a rifle before dinner.’

  She wants to argue but he’s striding in front of her and, somehow, she’s passively following behind. She hurries to catch up. She has to say it.

  ‘Dan? I honestly don’t want to do this. I want to go but I don’t want to shoot. I respect what you do but I just can’t do that.’

  He turns and looks down at her. He’s silent for a moment. She can see he’s considering what she’s said, thinking it through.