by Diana Fraser
9
Despite a raging desire to drive straight over to Zane’s house and vent her anger, frustration, bitter disappointment, and, simply, confusion, Rachel had retired to bed pleading a headache until her father had gone to bed. After being able to lie awake no longer with the emotions churning through her, overpowering her with first one thought, and then another, she rose, slipped on her gown and opened her door which led directly to their small, private beach.
The action of walking, the warm wind against her bare skin, lifting her silk gown, soothed her a little. Barefoot, she sank into the springy, coarse grass which became sparse as it disappeared into sand. She walked up the wooden steps of the jetty and sat on the seat at the end, looking out across the dull pewter of the smooth harbor, beyond which the hills were silhouetted against a starry sky. She’d been there a million times and yet the view had never felt more poignant. Its peace and beauty filled her and she closed her eyes and opened her mouth as if to scream. She wanted to let out the distress which churned inside her, let it dissipate into the stillness. Instead she closed her mouth.
What the hell should she do? What the hell could she do? Her first impulse had been to see him directly and to vent her feelings of betrayal at his signature, refusing her contact with her child, and to contest his decision. But, for once, she didn’t give in to her first instinct—hadn’t that always led to trouble? And it wasn’t trouble she wanted, it was to see her daughter.
But she couldn’t. And, maybe, just maybe, Zane was correct. Maybe it wouldn’t be in Etta’s best interests.
Rachel slipped off her robe and walked along the rough planks to the edge of the jetty where the high tide rippled around the piles, curled her toes around the edge and dived, naked, into the water. The cool water flowed along her heated skin, and she surfaced to see a crescent moon rise high above the hills. The important thing was Etta. It would be all right, she said to herself, as she flipped onto her back and kicked leisurely to shore. It had to be. Etta. It was only about Etta…
Rachel sat at her usual table in the window of Amber’s café watching the world go by. Except she wasn’t. She was looking out, unseeing, onto the early autumn afternoon. The scene was the same, no doubt had been the same for years, decades, generations even. But it was completely different for her today, than it had been the last time she’d been there.
“Hey, you,” said Amber, sliding a coffee in front of Rachel. “What’s up? You’re not looking your usual chipper self.” She grinned at Rachel.
Rachel tried to smile but her face didn’t respond. Instead she shook her head and brought the sugar bowl toward her and spooned a heaped spoonful into her coffee.
Amber’s eyes grew larger and her smile faded. “Wow! I haven’t seen you take sugar in years.” She glanced around, checking out the emptying café. “Want some company?”
“Sure.” Rachel couldn’t summon up any more enthusiasm. She was sure her lovely sister wouldn’t be able to help her—not with her unrelenting positive attitude, nor from personal experience. No, she was on her own here.
“Cool. I’ll grab a coffee.”
There was a depth of ache in Rachel’s heart that she’d never felt before. More so than when her ex in Wellington had betrayed her, because she now realized that this ache had been planted many years ago and had been the root cause of so much heartache afterwards. And then there was Zane. She took another spoonful and stirred it into her coffee.
Amber returned and sat down opposite on a comfy couch. She shot Rachel another look but Rachel simply shook her head and looked outside again at the trees whose leaves were fading, but not without the finale of a bright flourish of foliage.
“What are you thinking about?”
Rachel loved her sister, but sometimes her probing and sunny nature felt out of place. She looked at her—her red hair tied back in a ponytail, a trail of freckles on her delicate nose. She had the look of a Rossetti model and the nature of Pollyanna, but somehow beneath it all she was her own woman—strong and confident. Despite her air of vulnerability, Rachel suspected Amber was tougher than her.
“Rach?” prompted Amber.
Rachel sighed. “I was looking at the trees and thinking the leaves are about to die.”
“Oh, so happy thoughts then,” said Amber, sipping her coffee.
Rachel didn’t reply but looked out the window again, at the sun that had shifted around and now spun its bright light into her eyes, making them water.
Amber reached over and took Rachel’s hand. “I’m here for you, Rachel. Whatever it is, tell me. It’ll make it easier.”
Rachel looked back at Amber. “Thank you, but…”
“No buts,” said Amber, renewing her grip on Rachel’s hand. “Look, I know I’m the baby in the family. Goodness, I mean, I was only ten when you left Akaroa for Wellington. We hardly knew each other and we haven’t seen much of each other since then. But you’re still my big sister, who I’ve always looked up to.”
“Really?”
“Yes, really. And who I adore.”
It was Amber’s turn for her eyes to go misty and Rachel was suddenly aware of what her past had cost her, what living in Wellington had meant she’d sacrificed on the home front. She’d missed out on a close relationship with this wonderful woman.
Rachel sat up and leaned toward Amber. “And I adore you. I mean, who wouldn’t? But I adore you most. You’re my kid sister. We share a family.”
“So let me help you.”
Rachel bit her lip and looked at Amber in silence for a few moments, tossing up the idea of telling Amber everything. But she couldn’t. There was too much at stake, not least her daughter’s future. “I’ll tell you what I can. How about I tell you a story?”
Amber brightened. “I love stories. Once upon a time?”
Rachel nodded. “Once upon a time there was an innocent, naive, silly girl—”
Amber frowned. “This isn’t about me, is it?”
Rachel laughed. “No! It’s a story, remember? Anyway, this silly girl… did something which she refused to undo and upset people close to her, people she wished she hadn’t upset.”
“So what did the girl do?”
“She went away.”
“And… did everyone get over it?”
“Mostly everyone.” She looked back at Amber. “Everyone, I suspect, except her, that is.” She tilted her head to one side. “You see it so happened that the person who was upset the most, and most affected, was herself, and it took her years and lots of heartache to discover it.”
“So, can she put that one thing right now? Or is it too late?”
Rachel grimaced. “I think it might be too late. Thing is, if she tried to turn back the clock and make things easier for herself, she runs the risk of making things a whole lot more difficult for someone—some people—she cares deeply about.”
Amber exhaled and sat back in her chair. “Oh boy, that’s tricky. Is there really no way round it?”
Rachel shook her head, short sharp shakes as the truth hit her. “No,” she said in a whisper. She cleared her throat. “I don’t think there is. I think the only way is forward. Simply to move on. Keep on doing what I was doing.”
Amber smiled gently. “Keep on doing what the girl was doing, you mean.”
Rachel frowned, confused for a moment.
“The story, remember,” prompted Amber.
“Right. The girl. She has to move on and take the heartache with her. Learn to live with it.”
“But maybe just knowing and accepting what happened, simply the process of trying to make things right, has helped her.”
Rachel sat back, thoughtful, thinking through Amber’s words. “Maybe. I guess before, it was glossed over, patched up, tried to be forgotten. But now the story has been remembered, maybe it’s easier to move on.” She looked at Amber, impressed. “You’re right. I guess that is one way of looking at it.”
The doorbell jangled as a customer entered. “You see? There’s al
ways something positive you can get from a story. Even if the story is a sad one.” Amber glanced over her shoulder. “Looks like you’ve got company, and I’ve work to do.”
Amber jumped up and Rachel followed Amber’s gaze to Zane, who looked over with a guarded smile. She looked away quickly.
She listened as Amber chatted brightly to Zane but received only perfunctory replies. Seemed her quick look away had been noticed by Zane and while he didn’t speak much to Amber, he didn’t move toward her either.
“Water, please, Amber.” But still he didn’t come over, although she could feel his gaze on her back as if it were a laser-guided missile. Except there was no explosion, only a probing, only an enquiry as to why she wouldn’t turn around and greet him, only a question as to why she was acting that way.
Then she heard Amber’s tone lower as she slid the coffee across the counter to Zane.
“On the house,” she heard Amber say. It was followed by footsteps and Rachel closed her eyes as she felt Zane’s presence looming over her. The brightness of the sun still penetrated her closed lids, she couldn’t escape it, and she couldn’t escape him. She looked around at the man who’d decided she couldn’t see her child.
“Zane.” The one syllable was cool on her lips and she could see the shock of the delivery hit Zane before he recovered and frowned.
He cocked his head to one side. “Rachel?” he responded. “You wanted to see me… your text.”
“Yes.”
“I was surprised, given your obvious change of heart.” He shrugged. “Or mind. Is everything okay?”
She looked up at him, meeting his direct gaze. “No, it’s not.”
“Ah, I wondered… when you went so cool on me last week. I thought you must have had second thoughts.”
“Second thoughts?” She shook her head. “It wasn’t that. It wasn’t about us. I’m sorry, Zane, but it’s complicated.”
“Want to talk about it?”
She shook her head. “No, but I have to.”
“Mind if I sit down?” He indicated the empty chair opposite.
“Please do. We need to talk.”
He sat down and placed his hands together on the table, ignoring his coffee. “This sounds serious. What’s happened?”
“What, besides the fact that you used photos of me without my permission? Besides that?”
He frowned. “Your photos? I went to ask you but you weren’t there. Jim said it would be fine.”
“And is it usual to ask someone’s father for permission? How old do you think I am? Sixteen?”
“No. But he said you were used to that kind of thing and suggested I simply email you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“I asked the Tourist Board to cover it off. I’m sorry. They must have overlooked it.”
She grunted and stirred her coffee. “I guess they must have.”
“Is it such a big deal?”
“To me, it is. After what happened…”
“Ah,” he said. “Of course. I’m sorry. It must have been a shock—reminiscent of what happened last year. I didn’t think.”
“No, you didn’t. Still, what’s one more betrayal in the scheme of things?”
Zane ducked his head so it was in line with hers, willing her to meet his gaze. “What are you talking about? What the hell’s happened?”
She met his gaze at last. “I found out something today which has changed my life.”
“That doesn’t happen every day.” He was trying to lighten the conversation. But some conversations couldn’t be lightened. “So…” He looked around, unsure. “What exactly does that mean?”
She regarded him levelly. She should have seen it before—that uncompromising strength in every angle of his face. There was no softness where secrets could glide by, no space in his head or his heart for something imperfect, for mistakes, for mis-steps. There was only one course of action for something that was wrong and that was elimination. Now her focus had changed. Before, she’d been angry and hurt by his actions. But now she wanted him to understand exactly what he’d done.
“Zane. You know, or probably guessed, I came to Akaroa for a reason.”
“Yes, you said. To move on from a series of bad relationships.”
“I came here because I realized I couldn’t move on, not without addressing what I should have addressed ten years ago.”
“What?” He scrunched up his face in bafflement. “What are you talking about?”
She leaned forward so he could see the hurt and anger in her eyes more clearly. “I had a baby, Zane. I was sixteen years old when I had my child.” She paused but there was no dawning of understanding, only shock. He tried to take her hands but she shook them off. “I had a child. It was a girl. A beautiful girl who I was pressured to give away. And I did. And I didn’t look back until now, when I could no longer bear the heartache which was at the root of everything I did. I came back to find her.”
There was a change in his expression. “And did you? Find her, I mean.”
“Yes, I did.” She paused again. “But you won’t let me see her. Your brother was the father. Tommy. He and I had a child and you won’t let me see her. You won’t let me have a relationship with her; you won’t allow me to attempt to make reparation for the mess I made when I was sixteen.”
His gaze hardened and didn’t leave hers. It ground into her like glass—sharp and destroying. “It was your application I denied.”
“Yes.”
“And yet you hid this fact from me all the time you’ve known me.”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve taken every opportunity to be with me at the school, at the marae. You were looking for her, there, weren’t you?”
“Yes.”
“Was that all you wanted from me?”
She paused. Was it? She opened her mouth to speak but now was the time for the truth and she didn’t know what that was, anymore.
“Well, I guess that doesn’t matter now, does it?” He leaned back in his chair as if he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. And she’d have believed it if it hadn’t been for his eyes, which were fiercer, more demanding, more intense than ever. “You can’t have what you want and so no doubt, that is why you’re talking with the US producers—you’re leaving, which is exactly why I denied your case. You see, Rachel, people like you have a habit of wanting to turn back the clock, jumping into someone else’s life and destroying it in the process–”
“But I have no intention of destroying anything!”
He leaned forward. “And how can I know that? How can anyone know that? We can only make decisions based on the likelihood of that happening—”
“Without any personal knowledge of the people involved. How the hell does that work?”
“Well. It works well, Rachel. It happened to me and I’m not going to let it happen to Etta. You’re not going to destroy the only family she knows, her foundation, her sense of self, her life. She’s fine as she is.”
She hadn’t imagined he’d do that. That he’d confirm her identity. He was obviously so incensed by the whole situation that he’d let it slip.
Etta. The girl up the rugby post. The stroppy, skinny girl who Zane obviously so dearly loved and was equally infuriated by. That girl was her daughter. She sucked in a long breath. “So it is Etta.”
He swore under his breath when he realized what he’d done. He ground his teeth and nodded. Once. He rubbed his index finger against his lips as he glowered at her. “I shouldn’t have told you.”
“You didn’t. Not in so many words, anyway.” She held up her hand to stop him talking. She knew what he was going to say. “You don’t have to worry. I may have made more mistakes in my life than I should have done, but I do have a sense of right and wrong. I’m not going to contact her without permission. But I am going to pursue that through legal means.”
“That’s your prerogative. But it’ll come down to the wishes of the family and we have firm principles aroun
d that.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
“We have to do what’s best for Etta.”
“And you’re so sure you know that?”
“Yes.”
“How wonderful it must feel to be so sure of everything.”
“I’m not sure of everything, but I am sure of this… of what’s best for Etta.”
She pressed her lips together to stop them trembling as their gaze held, full of recrimination and pain. “Etta,” she said quietly. “I’d imagined many names, but not that.”
He paused and then obviously made a decision. “It’s short for Henrietta. I believe that was Gran’s choice, rather than Tommy’s.”
“Yes, Tommy’s role was brief, but pivotal, in the whole thing.”
For all his professed certainty, Zane suddenly looked unsure. He opened his mouth to speak before closing it again. He glanced away and then back at her again. “He… didn’t take advantage of you, did he?”
She shook her head with a sad smile. “I was young and curious. I rather think it was the other way around. How is he, by the way?”
“He’s fine. He’s living in the States with his wife and kids. Etta has visited them, but she’d rather stay here and we want her to stay, too.”
“Right. So he gets the option to have her stay with him, but his own mother doesn’t.”
“You forfeited that right, Rachel. You gave it away. You and your parents.”
“And I’ve lived to regret it. Every year, it gets harder.”
“I’m… sorry for that. But I have to think of what’s best for Etta.” He pushed his fingers through his hair and glanced out the window before looking back at her. The anger had gone, replaced by distress and confusion. Rachel was surprised. She’d never seen Zane confused about anything before. Not that it mattered now.
“Etta,” she repeated. “You know, I’d called her Julia. Only to myself, of course. No one else knew. But don’t worry. I’m not going to do anything. You’re right. It was selfish of me to return.” She rose. “But you know? I wasn’t going to take her away. I didn’t even want her to know who I was if it wasn’t right. I simply wanted to make sure she was okay, that she wasn’t wondering about me. Just to see her, to get to know her a little if I could. That’s all. And that’s what you’ve taken from me.”