New Du Rose Matriarch

by Bowes, K T

  “Is that what this is about?” Logan put the car seat on the tiled floor next to Hana and swished out after the nurse. He waited until she returned, accompanied by a small man with a stethoscope around his neck. Logan intercepted them out of earshot of Hana and explained her injury. The doctor nodded his understanding. His grey hair stuck up on end and he looked tired. “I don’t want my wife distressed further,” Logan said, his voice resonating with authority. Intimidated by Logan’s height, the doctor looked into the forbidding grey eyes and wondered what would happen if he did upset her.

  The medics returned to the small cubicle and Logan followed, standing in the corner near the sink. The doctor peered at Hana’s hand and wrist, turning it carefully under the light. He ordered swabs to isolate the infection type and prescribed penicillin, which covered most eventualities. “Mrs Du Rose,” his voice sounded kind. “My real concern is the ‘hospital bug’ which would be disastrous, but I don’t think that’s what this is.” He peered at the wound. “The antibiotics should get on top of the infection within the next forty-eight hours but if it doesn’t improve, you must go to the hospital. It’ll need to be reopened and washed out properly under general anaesthetic. I think there’s still glass in there.”

  The doctor turned Hana’s tender wrist over again, looking for swelling and bent it backwards on the joint to expose the tight stitches.

  “Ouch,” she gasped and pulled away. The doctor looked nervously at Logan’s serious expression.

  “Because it involved an opened vein, there’s a strong risk of blood poisoning although there’s no sign of that at the moment from the look of your general health.” He looked at Hana sternly, suspecting she wasn’t the easiest patient. “You’re the captain of your ship.” He indicated the sleeping baby with a jerk of his head. “If you’re not on deck, what happens to those who rely on you?”

  Hana looked guiltily at the baby. The fear of separation haunted her like a ghoul, making her ache for all of her children. She pushed it out of her mind but it swirled back like flood waters, the guilt of leaving them. Hana thought of Izzie’s soft black hair and pretty Indian face and wanted to see her. It was a physical ache which took the colour from her face and the energy from her bones. She nodded. “I know. Believe me, I know.”

  The nurse bustled around with items on a trolley, handing the doctor whatever he requested. He sluiced the wound over a plastic tray with saline solution. Then he looked carefully at the stitches. “I don’t want to mess with this.” He pushed his glasses onto the top of his head. “For now, hit it with the antibiotics and keep it clean and dry. Leave it out in the open now, don’t cover it.”

  Hana nodded without looking at the spiteful gash or stringy brown stitches sticking out at odd angles. She withdrew her arm from the doctor’s grasp and turned her hand palm down, out of sight. Thoughts of Laval rose without warning, seeing his tortured face as he spoke of Logan’s friendship and the malevolent stare he reserved until the end. Bodie told her she must prepare herself for the court case, mentally and emotionally. Laval’s plans for killing her were feral, but nobody would elaborate. Logan promised there were good reasons why Liza cut herself off from Laval and Hana possessed no evidence to the contrary. Hana looked at the doctor without seeing him.

  “Mrs Du Rose?” The doctor’s voice cut through Hana’s thoughts making her jump. She dragged herself back to the present and nodded in the right places, earning herself a smile and a pat on the hand. When she stood up, trying to regain some semblance of control in her life, everyone seemed surprised. Logan looked at her long and hard, assessing and summing her up like he did when he didn’t understand her. Feeling like a bug under a microscope, Hana decided she’d had enough.

  “Thanks then,” she said pleasantly. Picking the car seat up with her right hand, she pushed her way through the bodies and focused hard on the exit doors. They slid open and the balmy fresh air hit her, encasing her in the comfort of summer. Logan met her by the Honda, waving a piece of paper.

  “You didn’t wait for him to print off the prescription,” he snapped, “and you agreed to counselling and then walked out.”

  “Counselling? I didn’t!” Hana’s confusion was genuine. “Can we go now?” she asked.

  “No,” Logan said, shoving the prescription into his pocket. He took the car seat and held onto her hand firmly. “I need coffee!”

  Logan settled Hana at a table in the cafe and ordered drinks. “Stay there!” he ordered her. “I’m taking this prescription to the pharmacy next door. Move and there’ll be trouble!”

  “I’m fine!” Hana pulled an irritated face. “Stop looking at me like I’m about to flip my lid.”

  Logan grunted and disappeared next door, arriving back with the antibiotics before the coffee came. He leaned forward in his chair with his elbows on the table rocking the car seat slowly with the toe of his boot. Hana relented as he picked at a scratch on his wedding ring, reaching out with her right hand and winding her fingers through his. “I’m not happy in this town anymore,” she said, looking around at the other customers. “Not happy and definitely not safe. He ruined the town for me.”

  “I know.” Logan’s grey eyes filled with sorrow. “We got through it with his father last year and it’s made it worse for you, hiding all over again.”

  Hana nodded gratefully, knowing her husband understood. Logan gritted his teeth and struggled to form his sentence. “Hana, I need you to know I genuinely liked Michel L’Huillier at school. He was an awesome soccer player and my friend. It only went wrong when his father came looking for him. I never met his old man or knew his name, but he was a bad influence from the way Michel started talking after holidays he spent with him. The marriage thing with Liza was a huge mistake for her and she realised it too late. I had to go with her to serve the divorce papers and pick up her stuff because Michel terrified her. He signed the papers to stop us involving the police. Because of him, she’ll never trust another guy again. Not ever. She doesn’t even admit to herself she was married – it’s like she’s wiped it somehow.”

  He gripped Hana’s fingers gently in his, twisting and turning their entwined hands. “We will get through this,” he promised.

  Chapter 33

  They spent the sunny afternoon walking around Hamilton Gardens, the baby asleep in the sling at Logan’s breast. It was a warm day and the gardens filled with milling tourists.

  Hana showed Logan the haunts where she took her children with Vik, the bank they sat on each year to watch ‘Shakespeare in the Park’ during the summer festivals and the various gardens. Logan talked about the hotel and the section where Reuben’s old house used to stand. “What do you think we should do with it?” he asked, including Hana in his plans. “A garden would be good but where do I start?”

  “Why don’t we build a maze?” Hana said, filled with enthusiasm. “Their whole lives were based on such confusion and loss, why don’t we represent it with the design of the garden? I know we could plant flowers but it doesn’t convey them, does it?”

  Logan shielded Phoenix from the sun and considered the idea. “The more I think about it, the more I like it.” His eyes brightened. “It’ll be awesome!”

  “What about Alfred though?” Hana asked. “We don’t want to offend him – he might hate it.”

  “I don’t care what he thinks,” Logan’s tone sounded harsh, surprising Hana with the ferocity in his voice. “If he wanted me to himself all those years, how come he doesn’t come near me now? If you didn’t stop him leaving that day, he’d have gone; disappeared off the face of the earth without a word. I almost wish he had!”

  Logan set off through the themed gardens at such a fast pace Hana found it hard to keep up. She caught his hand, a ragged catch in her voice. “Logan, please!” She bent double, winded.

  Pain crossed Logan’s face. “Sorry, babe. I’m sorry!” he gushed. He walked her to the little cafe opposite the pavilion to recover, concerned at the whiteness of her face. They sat outside unde
r umbrellas and watched the ducks swimming and diving on the lake, drinking iced tea as Logan calmed and Hana’s equilibrium returned. “You ok, now?” he asked, guilt still edging his words.

  Hana nodded. “Yes, I’m fine. It was seeing you striding away from me.” She gulped. “I felt alone and I don’t want to be that way again.” She smiled wanly. “I need to stay close to you and Phoe for a while.”

  Logan nodded and stroked Hana’s fingers. “It’ll take time to settle and get it out of your head.”

  She nodded. “I’ve been thinking about you and Alfred. Do you feel displaced?” Hana sipped her drink, distracting herself from the sense of isolation which shrouded her as Logan walked away, pushing down the memories of powerlessness.

  Logan nodded. “I thought I knew who I was. My understanding of myself was built on my whakapapa but it was all lies. My brothers weren’t my brothers and my sister isn’t my sister.” He laughed with uncharacteristic cruelty, “Hell, my father isn’t even my father!”

  “The sins of the fathers,” Hana whispered and sighed. “Bodie knew about Vik’s affair; I had no idea. All these years I’ve guarded that secret and tried to protect his image. Don’t these fathers realise what they cause when they give in to temptation? Their children grow up fatherless. Just look at poor Tama; and Jas for that matter. Bodie swears he didn’t know Jas existed until this time last year and he was the result of an extra-marital affair. What a mess!”

  Logan reached down and stroked the tiny fingers of his baby daughter. She slept soundly with her head lolling back, her hands gripping the front of the sling with long delicate fingers like her father’s. Logan sighed and stared out across the lake. “Well, for Reuben; the wages of his sin was death.” He deliberately misquoted the old scripture referring to eternal death and Hana didn’t contradict him. Logan stretched his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “We’re never splitting up and I won’t lose sight of my daughter. She’s gonna know exactly where she came from and who she is.”

  Hana smiled. “Even when she wants to stay out all night drinking?”

  “Especially then!” said Logan, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Daddy will be loading his gun!”

  Back at the staff unit Logan seemed restless. Hana suggested he went to the office and check on things while she cleaned up the apartment. “Just get it done and come home again.” She smiled sweetly. “I hate it when you’re brooding on stuff. I feel like you’re only half with me.”

  Logan kissed her lightly as she sat on the sofa and fed the baby. “Promise I won’t be long,” he whispered. “I’ve just got stuff on my mind with starting back at St Bart’s tomorrow.”

  The baby nodded off after her feed and Hana lay her in the cot while she vacuumed, polished and restored order back to the small unit, careful not to jolt her sore wrist. She felt much better afterwards.

  Growing bored after an hour and a half, Hana retrieved the baby from her cot and locked up, setting off for the boarding house to surprise her husband. He wasn’t in the office so she climbed the long stairs to the restroom. It was empty. “Damn, I forgot my phone. Now I can’t text him,” she mused to the sleeping child in her arms.

  The middle bedroom door was shut and Hana heard muffled voices from inside. She watched through the window as a delivery van backed down the narrow driveway to the kitchen beneath. It was a small space and its wing mirrors brushed the bushes as the driver negotiated the side of the building. It halted and air brakes gushed alongside the grinding of a roller door.

  Talking and laughter filtered through the open window and Hana heard the clatter of crates being dragged across a gritty surface. The noise went on for a while as she enjoyed the breeze and the bizarre satisfaction of watching someone else work. Phoenix grew heavy in her arms and Hana’s wrist hurt. She lay the baby on the sofa, stuffing cushions to one side to stop her rolling. With a sigh, Hana lay her forearms on the edge of the metal frame and peered at the scene beneath, absentmindedly watching her breath fog up the glass.

  The activity stopped. Two heads appeared - a woman and a man’s. The male had a bald white crown with tufts of hair and strong muscular arms from lifting. His shirt was the same colour blue as the lorry roof so she guessed he was the delivery driver. “We got cabbages this week?” came the woman’s voice. The driver’s head nodded forward and back. “Because that new manager’s onto us. People are asking for the things we don’t have, so we need to stay one step ahead of him. We’ll need to change it for something else.”

  The driver nodded again. Hana leaned forward to identify the woman. Desire to solve the mystery meant she leaned out further than she should. ‘There has to be an insider,’ Logan had said. ‘It’s the only way for the scam to work effectively. Someone has to put the dummy stuff on the menu for it to go undetected for this long. But does the person who creates the menu know the food doesn’t exist, or are they typing what they’re told? If so, by who?’

  The fact all the food appeared on the menu, even the cabbage and leek, put Logan off in the beginning. But the head chef in the boarding house formulated the menu and the school typist produced the sheets. Neither seemed to have a clue there was any discrepancy, operating under a well-oiled formula. The head chef was adamant he made up the menu himself years ago and it hadn’t changed. ‘The boys like it the way it is,’ he insisted. ‘It’s the same ingredients on the same day, but I might do mince and potato pie one week and Shepherd’s Pie the next. They like it that way. I’ve been here thirty years and if you don’t like it, you can get yerself a new chef!’

  Logan told Hana he backed off, not wanting to arouse suspicion. ‘What about the cabbage?’ he asked a kitchen worker and she shrugged, looking around furtively.

  ‘Chef can’t read Mr Du Rose. Din’t youse know that? Don’t tell him I told ya though, will ya?’

  Hana leaned out as far as she dared. She recognised the woman’s harsh voice but without seeing her face, it was hard to name her. Hana reached out further, dangerously teetering on the windowsill in her efforts but seeing nothing of the female.

  She jumped as the bedroom door opened behind her, pulling her head in quickly. Hana turned in time to see the dark haired kitchen supervisor carefully closing the door. She stood with her back to the door, doing up the buttons on her uniform with a smug smile on her face.

  Feeling Hana’s eyes on her, she looked up and let out a small gasp. Her face radiated guilt, rapidly replaced by obstinacy. Then she sneered and it was an unpleasant addition to an otherwise attractive face. “What’re you staring at?” she spat, glaring at Hana.

  For a millisecond, Hana feared her husband might be in the room, banishing the irrational thought with difficulty. Of course he’s not! Another’s infidelity cost him everything; it definitely cost Reuben. Logan would be a fool to repeat his father’s mistakes.

  Still, Hana heard the question come from her lips, “Who’s in there?” She hated herself as the words emerged.

  The girl smirked and gave a rude gesture before strutting from the restroom and into the stairwell. “Whatever, bitch!”

  Hana trembled, her world collapsing in on itself. She stared at her daughter lying peacefully on the sofa and wrestled with her own self-doubt. With valiant control, Hana plucked her daughter from the sofa, letting the cushions fall to the floor and leaving them there. “Come on, baby,” she whispered, “let’s go home.”

  Phoenix stretched and bent her body backwards like a banana. Hana strode towards the stairs, resisting the urge to whip the bedroom door open and check it wasn’t her husband frolicking in there with the dark haired girl. She reached the fire door and glanced back, barrelling into the stairwell. Trust him, Hana, trust him. He’s not Vik!

  He righted her as she smashed into him, keeping her at arm’s length to avoid squashing Phoenix. “Whoa babe. I didn’t know you were here. I got roped into dealing with a broken arm.” Logan looked at his wife’s face and narrowed his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing, I’m going home.”
Hana tried to push past, prevented by Logan’s strong hands on her shoulders. Guilt assailed her for having doubted him and the urge to escape fought for prominence. She couldn’t face Logan and pulled away but he wouldn’t let her go.

  “Hana?”

  “Sorry,” she whispered, “The silly girl from the kitchen who always letches at you, well, she came out of there and she wasn’t alone.” Hana chewed the inside of her cheek and felt her colour flush with embarrassment.

  “You thought it was me?” Disbelief shrouded Logan’s face and Hana shook her head, unable to meet his eyes.

  The door opened and the guilty lover appeared, cheeks flushed and his shirt untucked. Satisfaction lit his handsome face and an unbecoming smugness oozed out. Hana gasped and forgot her own anguish in the face of someone else’s. Chris Carter sauntered from the room and shut the door behind him, freezing on the spot before his unexpected audience.

  “How could you?” Hana’s voice shook with rage for Amanda. “Do you have no standards?” Her hiss rose to a screech and the child in her arms stirred.

  Logan stood like a statue in the doorway, still holding Hana’s shoulders. “I don’t think,” he said through gritted teeth, “there’s much point your wife staying on site anymore, is there?”

  Carter blanched and tried to rally his dignity, failing in the face of Logan’s disgust. “We’re on a break, Amanda and me,” he flailed, “we’re getting back together. It’s got nothing to do with you!”

  Logan shook his head coldly, his grey eyes dark as coals and his face devoid of readable emotion. “See Angus tomorrow and do the decent thing. You’re not working round the boys anymore. It’s not the kind of behaviour befitting a Christian school boarding house. Pete will finish your shift for you. Get your stuff and get out!”

  Logan turned and led Hana from the room, her fingers shaking in his grip. She struggled with the stairs, her legs feeling weak and uncooperative. Pete emerged from the downstairs office, leading a pale Year 10 who wore a white sling and looked sick. Pete glanced at Hana warily as though she were a dangerous spider and skirted round her. Logan spoke kindly to the boy. “Go outside with my wife and we’ll take you to the hospital.” He smiled at Hana, asking her with his eyes to comply. Then he turned back to Pete. “I need you to stay here. Carter’s packing his gear and won’t be back. I’ll ring Angus from the hospital and I’ll explain when I get back.”