by Bowes, K T
“She’s that lady cop, her name’s Lucy and she’s twenty-two. We got on really well. We drove over to Tauranga for the day though because apparently I’m still a suspect in that guy’s murder.” Hana looked at him sideways and pulled a worried face. “No, it’s ok,” he reassured her, “you’re a suspect too.”
“Oh great,” she said without enthusiasm. “I don’t suppose Lucy told you anything about the case, did she?”
Tama smirked. “She might have,” he said coyly, “but I don’t want to risk her breaking up with me if I tell.” He looked genuinely worried, gnawing at his full lower lip.
“It’s ok; I don’t need to know. I guess I’ll find out soon enough,” Hana replied. She stroked Tama’s dark hair. “I think Amy’s in a bit of a mess financially,” she said, changing the subject. “What do you think?”
Tama shrugged. “House is a dump. But don’t cops get paid well?”
“It’s not that,” Hana replied. “When her husband let her have the house in the divorce settlement, he signed it over with mortgage still outstanding. They were in negative equity but she accepted it so he could move on after her affair. It’s falling down and the upkeep’s killing her. I’m guessing as a single mother she refused to name Bodie as the father, so for years she’s been doing it tough. I feel sorry for her but I’m not sure how to help, especially as I just denied her a decent wedding reception.”
“You’re so sweet, Ma. Are you sure you got the right son at the hospital? Like, you didn’t accidentally pick up the wrong brown baby?”
“Don’t be mean.”
Tama cuddled up to her, laying his head on her shoulder and Hana put her arm around him, reminding herself that despite his man’s body, he was still an overgrown boy. She wondered if any other female in his world ever showed him physical affection not attached to a sexual encounter.
“Ma,” he said quietly and she looked down at him. “Lucy said the dead guy was hit in the face with a blunt object. The medical examiner identified it as the shovel used to dig the trench. Lucy said the time of death was sometime on Saturday morning, which means it could have been anyone at the boarding house or soccer game. The cops still have no motive, apart from the fact the guy was a complete git.”
Hana sighed. “I hope and pray Logan didn’t touch that shovel.”
“He didn’t,” Tama replied, “I asked her. Apparently it was one of the first things Odering checked.”
“I bet,” Hana breathed, feeling an overwhelming sense of relief. “I wonder why it took them so long to do the house to house stuff though. It was almost a week before they took my statement.”
“Na, Lucy took mine last week, that night I babysat so you could meet your brother. She came round then and that’s how I got the date with her. I went out when Logan got home and forgot to mention it. Sorry.”
“Have you been with Lucy all week?” Hana asked. “You’ve been gone for days.”
“Na, I went to stay with a mate from school. But I thought you might not like it.”
Hana’s radar went on red alert. “Why?” She tightened her grip around Tama’s shoulder and moved her other hand around his neck in a head lock. “Do I have to beat you?”
“No,” he laughed. “You’ve been married to my uncle too long!”
He jabbed her under the armpit with the hand he wasn’t lying on and Hana squealed and let go. “I stayed with Gareth. He’s at Waikato Uni and we met up by accident. He invited me to stay, so I did.”
“Tama! Really? Was that a good idea?”
“I know. We were good mates before...you know.”
“Before you bedded his mother?” Hana helped him out, realizing how much she was sounded like Logan.
“Yeah, actually. That stuffed things between us for a while. He said his parents are divorcing and his dad has met someone else. He hasn’t seen much of Anka. Charlotte lives with Ivan. What I did was awful. Maybe they’d have stayed together and been fine, but Gareth didn’t think so. He said his dad seems happier than he’s been for years, so he forgave me. I’m grateful; he was my best mate through school.” Tama stopped to draw breath. “I never understood how bad it was trying to take Anka away from them, not until that night you told me about your husband and his other woman. I saw how it affected you – how it still upsets you and I felt guilty for the first time. Now I’m just sorry and wish I hadn’t gone there.”
Hana squeezed his shoulder and kissed the top of his head. “I’m so proud of you, babe.”
“Thanks, Ma.” Tama shifted his head so he could fix his grey eyes on her face and said, “I wish you were my real mum.”
Hana’s heart melted and she almost fell for it. She gave him a disgusting sloppy wet kiss on his forehead and told him to get his hand off her bottom, or she’d definitely tell Logan.
Chapter 16
“Please can I borrow your car, Ma?” Tama dangled the Honda’s keys in his brown fingers and chewed on his lower lip.
“What’s wrong with yours?”
“I need an automatic, it’s easier.”
“Easier for what?” Hana narrowed her eyes and a flush passed over Tama’s high cheekbones.
“Just stuff.”
“Illegal stuff?”
“No!” Tama looked a mixture of offended and relieved, as though Hana’s question inadvertently missed the issue and he was glad. “If I needed a getaway car, I wouldn’t pick a mummy mobile, would I?”
“Fine, but you can fetch some shopping for me.” Hana gave him a list and Logan’s credit card, hoping it didn’t turn out to be a huge mistake.
He left and she pottered around, sorting out her daughter and then looking through the baby’s clothes, piling up those which no longer fitted. It felt strange touching the soft fabrics for a newborn, knowing it was the last time Hana would hold a tiny, fragile child belonging to her.
At the sound of the interval bell, she sought her husband, missing adult company. Hana found him taking a break in the staffroom surrounded by friends from the sports department. It took a while to cross the busy, congested room as her old colleagues wanted to look at the sleeping baby in her arms. “How are you doing?” twenty different teachers asked and Hana got bored with hearing herself reply with the same sentence. Hana beat down the sense of missing out on ‘real’ life and smiled woodenly with her answers, missing the camaraderie of colleagues and the wide and varied subjects they talked about with ease. The decision for her to give up work was a joint one.
“I’ll support you with whatever you want, as long as between us, we make a stable upbringing for Phoe,” Logan had said. “I’m happy to stay home if you find it too isolating; I don’t mind.”
Hana knew it wasn’t the place or the work she missed but the constant human interaction which work fostered. Many of her friends had moved on or proved not to be real friends under pressure. Amanda sat at the table with the admin staff. A few waved and begged her to take the baby over. “Hasn’t she grown!” they exclaimed, peeking at the dark eyelashes and bonny olive skin of Hana’s snoozing daughter. “We haven’t seen you for ages, Hana.”
Hana smiled, biting back a ready retort that she lived on site, less than two hundred metres from their seats. Any of them could visit in a break or at lunchtime, but hadn’t. Hana had learned the nature of people meant they would show interest in the things right in front of them, but give them no further thought once they were out of sight. She smiled and made her excuses, working her way towards the grey eyed man who appraised her from the moment she entered the room.
The males at Logan’s table shifted their chairs politely backwards to admit Hana. She shook her head, scenting the heady aroma of alpha male and testosterone. “There’s no spare chairs,” she said, hefting Phoenix into her other arm. “I just came to say hello.”
Logan pushed his chair back and slapped his thighs. “Sit here,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. Hana’s eyes widened and she cast her eyes around the room, sensing Amanda’s stare boring holes in her back. Logan
winked.
It felt awkward with an audience but Hana slid her bottom onto her husband’s thighs and he slipped his arm around her waist. “How’re you doing?” he whispered into her shoulder.
“Good thanks,” Hana lied.
Pete North in a fit of showing off, took the sleeping child and sat with Phoenix over his shoulder. “I’m great with kids,” he bragged as he patted her back in a steady rhythmic drum beat.
“Just not when they get to high school,” one of the PE teachers commented under his breath.
Hana cringed as Phoenix breathed in dandruff and an alarming blue powder which could be anything. “What’s the blue stuff on your jacket?” she asked Pete.
“Ah, that. Yeah, I drew a hopscotch outline for my Year 9s.” He looked pleased with himself.
“Hopscotch?” The head of faculty leaned towards Pete as though he was intellectually disadvantaged. “That’s not part of the curriculum.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Pete replied with a shrug. “We had fun.”
Logan stroked Hana’s wedding ring and she watched him trying not to laugh as the head of faculty slammed his coffee on the table and stalked away, shaking his head.
A colleague pursed his lips and watched the man leave, tapping Pete on the shoulder. “North, it was hockey, man. Not hopscotch. They’ve got an assessment next week on muscle grouping and hockey’s one of the studies. You’ve been teaching that as well, haven’t you?”
Pete shook his head. “Na, bro. She’ll be right.”
His colleague swore and then covered his mouth, remembering the baby in their midst. He glanced at Logan, who rolled his eyes and shrugged.
“Tama’s back,” Hana said softly as the men turned to debating a dodgy refereeing decision at a rugby game the previous weekend. Half argued it was fine while the others disagreed.
“What do you think, Logan?” Pete demanded and Hana’s husband shrugged.
“Didn’t watch it; don’t care.”
Logan smiled at his wife and she saw the crow’s feet at the corners of his beautiful eyes. It was a sign he smiled more nowadays and she wanted to stroke them. She resisted, knowing too much of a public display would upset the tolerant men at the table. The glint in Logan’s eye, told her he’d read her mind. Hana felt instantly better in Logan’s presence; he embodied for her everything which made her feel secure and loved as a woman. For almost a decade her faith sustained her, keeping her sane through the difficult, lonely years when she was tempted to trash everything about her marriage to Vik in the light of his indiscretion. “I feel really lucky,” Hana breathed and felt Logan’s arms tighten around her waist.
The bell rang all too quickly and the staffroom emptied, making Hana’s heart weigh heavily in her chest. Logan stirred beneath her as Pete almost dropped Phoenix in his haste to get away. “Pete! Don’t be a bloody idiot!” Logan growled, catching his daughter as Pete thrust her in their general direction and left.
Hana sighed and looked around the empty room filled with abandoned coffee cups and rubbish. The knot of loneliness grew.
“What’s wrong, babe?” Logan asked, his voice a gentle rumble.
Hana shook her head, dipping her lips to meet his. She kissed him and he responded. “Won’t you talk to me?” Logan asked, his grey eyes laden with concern.
“No, I can’t,” Hana admitted in a whisper. “Because I don’t know myself.” A little sound below made Hana look down, finding her baby’s grey eyes staring up at her parents. When she got eye contact with Hana, Phoenix beamed and giggled. Something in her mouth made Hana start and bend closer to see, spotting two white dots on Phoenix’s bottom gum. “Logan, she’s got teeth!” Hana said in amazement, running her finger over the tiny ridges. “Phoe, show Daddy your little pearls.”
Logan sat his daughter up and peered into her mouth as she sighed and looked around the staffroom. “Wow!” he said in wonderment. Everything was new; he’d never done fatherhood before, his child’s first smile, her first roll over, first tooth and first steps. He rejoiced over each milestone with genuine enjoyment.
“I need a record of this,” he said, handing Phoenix back to Hana. Logan grappled in his jacket pocket for his phone. “Turn her to face me, babe,” he asked. “Smile, Phoe, baby, smile for Daddy.” Logan stared at the photograph with pride. “That’s gorgeous,”
Hana watched the wonder in his eyes and knew he’d look at it often, like he did all the cute photos he stored in a special folder on his phone called, ‘Phoe’.
Hana glanced at the clock. “You should go.” She nudged his upper arm. “Don’t you have a class?”
“No, I’ve got an hour at St Bart’s now, so I can do the accounts. I’ll walk back over with you.” He reclaimed his daughter with a grin, besotted. “Wow, you’re so gorgeous,” he whispered. Phoenix squealed, trying to speak, so it came out as a series of little whispered noises. She swung her legs and flapped her hands and looked excited in her daddy’s strong arms.
“Amy’s broke,” Hana said, keeping her voice low as they walked towards the boarding house. “I’m not sure how to help. I can’t just give her money; I don’t think she’d accept.”
“How do you know she’s not just careful with her money?” Logan peeled his gaze from his daughter for a moment.
“The house is a mess and it was freezing yesterday but the heaters were turned off. She was upset for a number of reasons and even though she didn’t say it - I suspect that’s one of them.”
“Just let them have the wedding at the hotel,” Logan suggested. “Bodie’s never gonna like me but at least this way he might not hate me.”
“No,” Hana was adamant. “It’s Bodie’s mess and he can sort it out. I’m not backing down but if I can help Amy without being obvious, then I will.”
Logan ran his free hand through his hair and holding onto Phoenix with one arm, clasped Hana’s hand, interlacing their fingers. “I love my girls,” he said happily. “I wish it could always be like this.”
Hana smiled and nodded, feeling the same. The weight of the murder hung over the site like an albatross. “Where can we go for the holidays?” she asked, looking hopeful it would be far away from the school.
“Anywhere you like, my love,” Logan replied, kissing her on the forehead and reluctantly handing his child back. “Have a think and let me know.” He sauntered over to the boarding house, looking back occasionally and catching Hana’s eye. She watched him walk away, admiring his tight backside and the swagger in his walk. It was tempting to wolf whistle but her natural English reserve prevented her following through.
Reaching the front door of the boarding house, Logan turned and waved. Hana picked up Phoenix’s little hand and waved with it. She’d been trying to teach her, but it was the best they could muster at that moment. Logan waved again not wanting to go into the office.
Feeling the emotional tie stretching and hurting her chest, Hana turned away, going back to her current abode with heavy footsteps. She walked back to the unit experiencing a sense of power in her husband’s trust. “Daddy said I can choose where we go for the holidays,” she told her daughter. “Culver’s Cottage or Daddy’s hotel?”
Phoenix waggled her legs and rubbed her eyes, disinterested. Tama still wasn’t back with the car or shopping so Hana raided the pantry and fridge and chopped things up to make baby food from scratch. Her first attempt wasn’t bad. She managed a decent mix of vegetables, cooked in the saucepan until they were soft and then pushed through a sieve. It was fun, adding things Phoenix might like to try. Except peas. Peas seemed reluctant to blend, staying as little green husks in Hana’s glossy cement mix.
As lunchtime neared her daughter became fractious, bored with lying on her back with a bare bottom swiping at the dangly toys on Millie’s old baby gym. Hana put a nappy on her child and sat her in the high chair to try out the food. “Right missy. Tell me what you think of this?” Hana asked, eyeing the baby gym with a guilty cringe. “I need to give that gym back to Amanda but I don’t w
ant to see her and I’m not sending Logan.”
“Baba, baba,” Phoenix said, opening her mouth so Hana could fill it with more vegetable gloop.
“Good idea,” Hana agreed. “Tama can drop it round.”
Phoenix gobbled her bowl of food, distressed when was gone. She grizzled and Hana wiped her face and offered her a breastfeed. “I can’t overdo the solid food, baby,” she told her. “Most of the mothers with babies your age aren’t even feeding proper food yet. Izzie and Bodie survived but those women make me nervous; they’re very critical of someone doing it differently to them and it makes me doubt myself.”
Within twenty minutes, her child was comatose in her arms. Hana swaddled her up and lingered by the pram, tempted to lay her there instead of the cot. She nodded to herself and relented, covering Phoenix with blankets and fastening her reins to prevent accident. “Your brother managed to fall out of his pram when he wasn’t much older than you. I still don’t know how he sat himself up and ended up face first on the carpet.” Hana remembered the awful scene of tears and recriminations. Vik, as always dealt passively with her hysterics and his son’s screams.
Hana collected the washing from the laundry and ran to the communal washing line to hang it, leaving the front door open so she could see the pram, but worrying about Phoenix anyway. Running up the front steps with the empty basket she felt a hand on her arm and screamed.
“Sorry, miss, sorry, miss!” James had his hands up to his face in guilt at her fright. The Year 13 Korean student looked ill and wasn’t wearing school uniform. Hana stared at him in surprise.
“James, why aren’t you in class?” she said, still panting. “If Mr Du Rose sees you, he’ll have a fit!”
“What is fit?” James asked, panicking.
Hana calmed herself, remembering his difficulty with aspects of English, especially phrases and jokes. “It’s ok,” she said, “he’s at St Bart’s. Why are you in mufti and not in class? Start at the beginning.”