by Diana Fraser
Ian frowned. Zane and he never had an easy relationship. Zane’s position in the community and on his tribal council meant that he was used to authority and struggled with the fact that Ian had ultimate control of the school. Luckily Ian usually agreed with Zane. But not, apparently, in this case.
“There’s no point making the children work for nothing, Zane, not when Rachel has made that unnecessary.” He turned to Rachel. “Thank you so much again, Rachel, for taking time out of your busy schedule to do this for us.”
Rachel glanced at Zane. “I’m not so busy at the moment. I’ve been staying with my father for a while.”
“So what’s next for you?”
She glanced awkwardly at Zane. “I…” She trailed off under the influence of his cold stare.
Ian furrowed his brow. “Didn’t your assistant say something about the US wanting your TV programme?”
“Yes, they do, but—”
“They’ll love you. When does filming start?”
She shrugged. “I’m not sure.”
A woman Zane had never seen before approached them, with a camera in hand. “They want her as soon as they can get her, don’t they, Rach?”
Before Rachel could answer, the woman had raised the camera and taken a snap of the three of them. Ian signaled over his own photographer and before Zane knew it he, Ian and Rachel had been photographed by someone who Rachel introduced as her agent. It became a melee as members of the public pushed forward, all wanting selfies with Rachel. Zane backed out as soon as he could and watched her. She gave that broad beautiful smile that lit up the whole room, but when she turned it to Zane he could see uncertainty in her eyes. But still the smile held. The disconnect between the two hit Zane. It was precisely what he hated. Feeling one thing on the inside and showing something else on the outside. That wasn’t real. That wasn’t what he wanted.
Without acknowledging Rachel, he thrust his hands in his trouser pockets and walked decisively away from the school, through the open gates and down the road toward the sea. He needed air. He needed to get away from things he’d thought he’d already left behind.
* * *
By the time Rachel had finished talking with Ian, and having her photo taken with scores of people from around the district, her heart and spirits had sunk to rock bottom.
Zane had disappeared. But more worrying than that was the way he’d looked at her from across that crowded hall—as if he were looking at a stranger. But not just a stranger, a stranger he didn’t much like. She hadn’t seen that expression on his face when she actually had been a stranger to him. Then he’d shown interest, humor and all the other lovely things she associated with him. But just now? Nothing.
As she helped clear up the hall, she was only vaguely aware of the chatter of the other women. Why had Zane reacted as he did? She’d thought they were getting on so well. She’d imagined he’d be as impressed and happy to see her on stage as everyone else had been. Seemed he wasn’t like everyone else. But hadn’t she known that from the beginning? And hadn’t that been the reason why she’d been so attracted to him?
As the last cooking implement was packaged up into a box, and loaded into the van to go back to Belendroit, she realized she’d stuffed up big time. Not only stuffed up, but created a disaster from which she wasn’t sure her newly formed relationship with Zane would recover. He’d given her hints as to his feelings about fame and she’d totally underestimated their importance.
The rest of her team had returned to Christchurch and wouldn’t be back until Monday when filming started, so she drove her father’s van, loaded with her equipment, back to Belendroit early, pleading a headache. She covered the gamut of emotions on the short trip back to the homestead. From shock at Zane’s reaction, through to anger at herself for being so upset and so vulnerable. She’d thought she’d moved on from the person she had been, but she’d thought wrong.
She pulled up in the drive of Belendroit and wearily got out. Her father wasn’t there. She’d seen him still at the school, lapping up the compliments directed at her, and transforming them into compliments about himself. He was in his element, surrounded by women and flirting outrageously with them all. Exactly as she’d done on stage, she thought grimly.
She was about to unload the contents of the van when she heard a noise. It was coming from the woods. She looked around but didn’t see a car. She approached hesitantly, walking along a path which Zane had made sure was no longer overgrown, although the trailing creepers and vines still dangled from the towering trees overhead.
Then she saw him. Zane. He was finishing up some work he’d begun the previous weekend. His tools were piled neatly to one side whereas they’d been scattered last time she’d seen them. He hadn’t heard her arrive. He continued digging up a tree which would complete the work in that area. She watched as he moved the dead wood back and forth until it came loose and he tossed it onto a pile. Passing his hand over his forehead, he went to pick up his things. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Rachel.
“Zane,” she said, in as cool a tone as she could achieve. But even so it nowhere near matched Zane’s earlier icy response.
“Rachel. I didn’t think you’d be back here so quick. I thought you’d be out celebrating in Christchurch with the rest of your crew.”
“No. I wasn’t in the mood.” She looked around, desperately trying to think of something neutral to say, something to engage him in conversation, something to prevent him from leaving. “You’ve been busy.”
“I’ve come to finish up and collect my stuff. I didn’t think you’d be here.” His coolness brought about a familiar hurt, deep in the pit of her stomach. Another rejection. But this one hurt far more than any other. She balled her hands and swallowed it down. She refused to let this go the way of all her other relationships, without a fight.
“Or else you wouldn’t have come,” she said.
“That’s not what I said.”
“But it’s what you meant, isn’t it?”
He didn’t answer. She walked toward him and stopped, folded her arms across her chest, and tilted her head to one side. “Tell me, what was it which pained you so?” She raised her hand to stop him from saying anything. “The sight of me in the public eye, putting on a performance, or was it that you hadn’t known—that this was something which you hadn’t organized, you hadn’t controlled?” She was aware of the hint of anger in her voice but she didn’t care any more.
“What pained me was that I didn’t recognize you.”
She frowned. Out of all the answers he could have given, she hadn’t anticipated this. “Didn’t recognize me? Okay, I visited the hairdresser for the occasion and dressed smarter than usual, but… didn’t recognize me? What do you mean?”
“Exactly that.” She hadn’t thought his voice could get any colder, but apparently it could. “On that stage you changed into a person I didn’t know.”
She shrugged. “I… I have different sides to my personality, I know I do. I’ve always enjoyed acting and that’s all it is—an acting role. What’s so sinister about that?”
“You seemed to be pretty much into it.”
“I was. It’s what I do. It’s my job.”
“I didn’t know. I thought you were a chef.”
“And that, you didn’t mind. You could cope with the idea of me slaving in a kitchen, behind the scenes, but not me being out in front, where people liked to interact with me. That’s it, isn’t it? You were pissed that I was the center of attention.”
“No, Rachel. What I was unimpressed with was how much you so obviously enjoyed being the center of attention.”
“So? Is that a hanging offense?”
“It is in my book. It’s the thin end of the wedge. Where would it end? What would you sacrifice to hang on to that feeling?”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Maybe, but it’s how I feel.”
They were quiet for a few moments. “So… you’re not even grateful for the fact that y
ou’ve raised all the money you needed to take your team away and then some?”
He closed his eyes briefly. “Of course I’m grateful. What you did today was”—he shrugged, as if he were having difficulty coming up with the right word—“was one of a kind. No one else could have managed it. I just didn’t want that person to be you.”
“Why? Tell me why?”
“I thought you’d join in with the mothers. I thought you’d have a cake stall or something. I had no idea you’d pull a stunt like this.”
“This stunt, as you call it, has everyone else, but you, ecstatically happy.”
“Then you should be pleased.”
“No. I’m not.”
“Why?”
“Because I did it for you. I wanted you to be happy. I wanted you to be pleased.” She bit her lip to stop herself from saying the words that threatened to tumble out of her mouth, words that would give away precisely how much she’d come to feel for Zane in such a short space of time.
He reached out instinctively and took her hands in his. The cool was gone now, replaced by a wistful sadness. “You mistook me for someone else, Rachel. I was pleased to be with you before… more than pleased. I wanted nothing out of the ordinary. In fact it was only ordinary I wanted.”
“And you thought you found it in me?” She shook her head in disbelief. “I’m not ordinary, Zane. I have no intention of ever being ordinary.”
“I realize that now. I see that you won’t fit into this life. You’ve another life waiting in the US for you which, for some reason, you haven’t told me about. I thought you were here looking for a quiet life, a real life, but I was mistaken. Or maybe”—he dropped her hands—“that was simply another act, an act you thought would appeal to me.”
She reeled back at the insinuation of his words. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
He held up his hands in apology. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. You have to understand, I had a life like that, played out in the public. I had a woman I thought loved me, and who I loved, and none of it was real. Take the fame away and everything else crumbled, fell away like a pack of cards. It was empty. Nothing there. I don’t want that again. I want something real which I can build on.”
“And so do I. But I can’t stop being myself. What you saw back there is a real part of me. I can’t suppress it. I enjoy it. But I want a change, too.”
“But what about the States?”
“Before I think about that I’m contractually obliged to do half a dozen episodes under my current contract in New Zealand.”
“So you will be leaving Akaroa, then, one way or another.”
“No. Not yet. I’ve decided to film them here. At Belendroit. That’s why I had all the equipment around which I used at the fundraiser. As to the US…” She shrugged defiantly. “I haven’t decided yet.”
He sighed. “Rachel, I’m sorry, I thought we had things in common, I thought we might…” He stopped himself short. “But there’s no way I can have a replay of my old life. No way I can build a future on the values your world holds dear.”
His words were harsh but his expression revealed a pain and confusion which touched Rachel, despite herself.
“You’re still hurting, Zane Black! You need to get over it and understand that what you want—this ideal woman—isn’t real. And that’s exactly what I am—real—and I intend to stay that way. And if you don’t like it then you know what you can do.” She lifted her chin, her heart pounding with emotion. Part of her believed what she said, but a very tenacious small part also wanted to wrap her arms around him and show him exactly how real she was. For one long moment their gaze held—the only moving things were the foliage above them which shimmered in the breeze, and a couple of fantails who darted in and out of the sunlight catching flies. Then he shook his head and looked away.
She watched him collect his tools, waiting for him to say something more, racking her brains trying to think what she could say to stop this nightmare from continuing. But there was silence until he walked away without looking back.
“Zane!” He stopped walking but didn’t turn around. She took a step forward. Her head was full of things she wanted to say, her body full of things she wanted to do, not least to fling her arms around that strong man and make him stay, make him see that he was wrong. She half-laughed at the notion of him walking away with her hanging on to his thighs, being dragged through the newly-cleared gardens. She forced down the hysteria born of frustration and anger.
He twisted his head toward her, but not so far that he could see her. It nearly broke her heart. And it made her sense of self plummet like never before. Maybe they’d all been right—all her exes—grinding her down. Maybe she wasn’t worth much. Because of all the people whose opinions she respected, Zane had quickly become the most important.
“Yes?” he asked.
It was the last pin-prick to a bubble of hope she’d nurtured since she’d met him. “Nothing,” she said softly, before turning and walking away from him.
* * *
Even without looking back at her after she’d called out, Rachel’s expression was imprinted on Zane’s mind. It haunted him with every step he took toward his car. He loaded up his garden tools and started the engine. He had to drive carefully as the two cocker spaniels came bounding down the drive ahead of Jim, barking madly. But he didn’t stop, merely wound down the window and exchanged a few words. If he’d been asked afterwards what those words were, he wouldn’t have been able to say.
He drove off over the winding road up the hill to the valley beyond, to the Maori land which had been in his tribe for centuries. As soon as he entered its boundary, he felt a sense of peace. He drove through the small community and out the other side to where his house stood slightly apart.
He walked out onto the veranda which overlooked the marae, and scanned the valley. The place was virtually empty. Of course everyone would be at the school, enjoying what was on offer. And so he should be too, as one of the teachers. He rarely shirked his duty but there was no way he could have stayed there listening and watching everyone idolize Rachel as if she were some kind of goddess. It was ridiculous, he thought as he placed his tools in his shed.
“Zane!” He looked up and saw his gran waving at him. Her arthritis must surely have been playing up if she didn’t go to the school gala.
He waved and she beckoned. He looked around his place. He had things to do, and, besides, he wasn’t in the mood for company. But who could deny his gran? Certainly not him.
He walked down the hill toward her cottage.
“Gran,” he greeted, looking down at her—she seemed to get smaller with each passing month. But she was still sharp-eyed and held herself proudly, still wore the greenstone taonga around her neck. His gaze lingered on the pendant—a symbol of strength and beauty, so fitting for the women of his tribe. “Are you okay?”
She was shelling peas and had a pile of kumara beside her to peel. “Course I’m okay, boy. But someone’s got to prepare tonight’s kai while you lot are gallivanting about.”
He looked at her knobbly hands and then at the peeler. “Let me do that.”
“Sure, if you want to. But don’t take pity on me. I’m not alone, you know. The girls rigged up this TV screen for me. If I can’t get to the school, then at least I can see her here.”
It wasn’t until he’d sat down that he realized who the ‘her’ was. A close up of Rachel filled the screen. For a long moment he was transfixed by her beauty, her low melting voice, and her wicked wit which punctuated her monologue in exactly the right places. She was as sexy as hell.
He focused on peeling the kumara. The faster he finished the job, the sooner he was out of there.
“She’s a beauty all right. A natural beauty,” said his gran, consideringly.
He looked up at the TV. “What’s natural about the way she flicks her hair back from her face?”
His gran chuckled. “Natural seduction, you could say, eh boy?
”
He couldn’t argue with that, not with the way his groin tightened and his eyes dropped to her full lips. He swallowed. “She’s putting it on. She doesn’t do that in real life.”
Gran pointed to the TV. “That’s not real life! You should know the difference by now. That’s a performance, and a damn good one, too.” She laughed again at Zane’s expression.
“But it’s so different to what she’s like. Which one is her?”
Gran shrugged. “Probably both. Nothing wrong with a bit of complexity in a woman.”
“Maybe. But it makes it hard to know which version to trust.” He glanced once more at the screen.
“She hasn’t changed much. Become more beautiful if anything.”
That made him take his eyes off the screen. “You knew her?”
She glanced slyly at him. “Sure did. She was a cute kid.”
He had nothing to say about that because he knew she probably had been.
“Some of the whanau used to hang around with her in town. Only saw her up here a few times, though.”
“Who with?”
“Lisa and Tommy mainly.”
“Oh.” That would be right, Zane thought as he did the math. His step sister and step brother were around Rachel’s age.
“Long time after you went to Auckland to be with your mother.”
He winced and his gran reached out her hand and touched his arm. He looked up instantly. His gran wasn’t a demonstrative woman; she was a tough one. “You did all right, lad. You did what you had to do and it made you the man you are today. A man I’m proud to call my mokopuna.”
Zane couldn’t remember his gran ever having said that she was proud he was her grandchild before. Her approval had always been implicit. He took another look at her. Maybe her age was making her sentimental.
“What’s got into you, Gran? You raised us to be tough, remember? Not sentimental.”
“I’m an old lady now, Zane, and I see things a little different. It’s like I can see more, more about people, can see inside them, what’s hurting them.”
He grunted, uncomfortably. “So age has given you x-ray eyes. That’s some super power.”