One Heartbeat

by Bowes, K T

  Hana’s brow furrowed as she thought about what he offered. It was a massive jump from where they were and she didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know where I would work anymore,” she said sadly then. “I don’t know if I could be bothered to get another job. I’ve lost all my confidence. Too much has happened.”

  “Actually, Angus asked if you’d be interested in a job on reception. Mrs-What’s-Her-Name retires at the end of this year and he thought it might be ideal for you. I told him you might not want full time again and he suggested mornings. He could get someone else to job share the afternoons if you were interested. I said I’d ask.”

  Hana groaned. “I don’t know, Logan. I don’t know what to do!”

  “It’s ok,” he said, reaching for her hand. “You don’t have to tell him right now.” He shifted next to her again, stretching out his long legs and leaning back against the fence. He put his arm around her and this time she didn’t push him away.

  “I always thought you wanted to go back up to the hotel and run it yourself,” Hana said, surprised when he shrugged.

  “Not yet. I’m not ready. I’ve run it at a distance for so many years I need a plan to ease myself back in if I’m staying for any length of time. I know I keep a tight rein on things, but you can’t turn up and displace all the management you’ve had in place, especially when it’s good management. The time will come, but not right now.”

  Hana nodded, understanding. “I’d have to work with Amanda if I took the reception job.” She sounded regretful. Logan shook his head trying to catch up with her ability to flit about from subject to subject.

  “Maybe not,” he said, his tone mysterious. “She’s actually not doing that well. Angus is frustrated with her. She’s rubbish at passing on messages and is completely disorganised. Angus said she’s worse than the last woman for gossiping. He can’t tell her anything. He has to wait until the other lady comes in the afternoon and get her to do all the confidential stuff because he can’t trust Amanda.”

  “Yeah, he’s not the only one,” Hana mused, chiding herself for feeling smug about Amanda’s failure.

  “Anyway,” Logan said, “a lot can happen in a few months. We might not even be here.”

  “What...dead?” Hana said, horrified.

  Logan laughed and it was a cheerful, welcome noise. “No, you egg! I was thinking about applying for a year’s leave and taking you travelling. You could show me where you grew up and went to uni. Then we could look around Europe for a while. It’ll be easier while Phoenix is still little because she won’t complain about the things we want to see. What do you think?”

  “Gosh,” said Hana, surprised. “It sounds amazing!” They were both quiet for a moment as their thoughts ran unchecked. Then Hana said, “We could ride the Circle Line tube train and show Phoenix where we first met.”

  Logan kissed her tenderly and smiled in the darkness, thinking how strange it would feel, but also how perfect. “Hana,” he whispered. “I need to sort something out with you.”

  Hana heard the weight in his tone and knew he intended to broach something major. She stiffened, wondering which of her many issues he would raise first. Logan cleared his throat. “Could you work on not bringing up the word ‘divorce’ every time you think I’m dirty at you? It’ll make Phoenix feel insecure once she’s old enough to understand what you mean. To be honest, it doesn’t make me feel too great either.”

  “Sorry,” Hana said instantly, feeling ashamed of herself at the obvious truth of her husband’s words.

  “More than not saying it, I need you to stop thinking it either. I’ve got no intention of letting you get off that lightly. I’ll keep hold of you and make you suffer, not get rid of you, woman.”

  Hana said nothing, hearing his assurances but not believing them. Logan sensed it. “Look, I understand in your first marriage you felt insecure and unworthy of Vik. But I’m not him, Hana. I didn’t marry you out of obligation or duty, I married you because you’re the only person I’ve ever loved or wanted. We can’t come back to this again; I don’t know how to help you anymore. You need to hear what I’m saying and believe me this time.”

  Hana nodded against his shoulder and felt a curious feeling of relief, like sunshine on her skin. It was pleasant and edifying. “I worry...” she began and Logan interrupted her with a startling truth.

  “Worrying’s a sin. The chaplain told the boys at the last chapel service. He said it wasn’t biblical – that if you’re worrying, it’s because you’re relying on the wrong person. See, I do listen.”

  Hana felt slammed, closing her lips and knowing he was right. Without a suitable retort, for once she stayed silent.

  “I suppose I shouldn’t promise not to divorce you though, should I?” Logan said and his voice sounded full of doubt. “If you were unhappy and wanted me to let you go, I would...I think. I’d hate us to be like Mum and Dad...Alfred. I often wonder if things would have been better if my grandmother acted differently and made Alfred let Miriam go. It would’ve been awful, but perhaps better for Mum. She was so unhappy and I never knew my father. Hindsight’s a funny thing isn’t it?” He sounded unbelievably sad and Hana’s heart ached for him.

  “Ever since your mum and Reuben died,” she said, “I’ve thought a lot about the same thing. I think instead of worrying that Vik married me for the wrong reasons and spending too many years trying to make it up to him, I should have just called it quits, thanked him for trying to do the right thing and parted friends. At least then, I’d have access to back up when Bodie went ‘bush’ for days, or stayed out drinking and smoking dope with his dodgy mates. Vik might be even be alive today.”

  Logan raised his eyebrows in the darkness, enjoying the thought of Supercop smoking dope but Hana hadn’t finished. “Logan, maybe the secret is to carry on being brutally honest, even when it hurts. I can’t imagine ever wanting to divorce you or be divorced by you, but if we get to that stage, instead of feeling trapped, maybe we can talk honestly and sort it out and change some stuff. Instead of receding into the pit of despair and then trying to crawl my way out, I should have been honest with Vik. He might have met me half way and I’ll never know that now. It strikes me that the similarity between my marriage and your mother’s is that we were both pretending we were happy and could make it right. But we couldn’t; the odds were stacked against us both. I don’t have to pretend with you, so maybe we got off to a better start but I am happy being married to you. My heart just needs to let my face know sometimes.”

  Logan smiled and hugged her tightly into him, whispering, “Thank goodness for that! I do love you, Hana.”

  He sat up, jiggling around underneath him with his hand. Hana wondered if he’d become invaded by one of the horrid night bugs that wandered around in the darkness. She watched the glow of his mobile phone as he retrieved it from his back pocket. “It’s Tama. It says ‘code red’,” he said, sounding bemused.

  “That’s Phoenix,” Hana said knowledgeably. “It means she’s squalling and he can’t cope.”

  Hana worked her way up the fence backwards and heard her fleece give another rip. Logan helped her unhook herself and then wrapped his arms around her, kissing her and holding her tight. They held hands walking back to the unit and Hana dreaded having to face Tama and possibly Bodie and Odering.

  Logan unlocked the front door and sent Hana up the steps ahead of him, noticing her hesitation. “You’re all right. Supercop and Detective-Perfect left ages ago.” As he turned back to the street, Logan glimpsed light bobbing around the gully end of the school site. It was a fraction of a second of torch flash, so slight he wondered if he’d imagined it but gut instinct told him he hadn’t. “What now? Like I need any more drama tonight!”

  “Pardon?” Hana asked, kicking her trainers off in the hallway.

  “Nothing,” Logan said, his brow furrowed with concern as he contemplated going to investigate. He hovered on the doorstep, feeling torn between his responsibilities.

  “C
ome in, babe. It’s freezing,” Hana called.

  “Yep, in a minute.” Logan didn’t want to leave Hana right then, sensing it would undo her confidence in him. But he feared the St Bart’s boys might be on a night jaunt. They were ultimately his responsibility as manager and the adult in loco parentis. Logan shook his head and put his family first, not an easy thing to do when he felt something was wrong.

  While Hana settled on the sofa with the not-too-impressed-Phoenix, Logan escaped to the bedroom and rang St Bart’s office. “Pete,” he whispered, “do a bed check and a head count. Now. Then ring me back.”

  Chapter 19

  “I’m going for a run,” Hana said, dragging her trainers from the hall cupboard and slipping them onto her feet. “I won’t be long.”

  “Whoa, what?” Logan’s face crinkled in surprise as fastened the buttons of his work shirt. His belt hung unfastened from open trousers and Hana allowed her eyes to rove over the beautiful physicality of her relationship with Logan. “Hana!” he snapped. “Why are you going for a run?”

  “I’m unfit,” she stated, hearing the defensiveness in her tone. “Jogging home last night made me feel like a geriatric and I hate it. I was walking with Mrs Next Door but as that can’t happen anymore, I’m taking responsibility for myself.”

  “But you walk everywhere with the pram,” Logan said, wrapping his arms around Hana’s trim waist. “You’re perfect as you are.” He kissed her neck, pushing her pony tail out of the way with his chin. “I can help you with cardio workouts,” he whispered and Hana giggled and slapped his shoulder.

  “Yeah, I bet you can,” she joked. “I won’t be long, I promise.”

  “Well, take your bloody phone this time,” Logan chided her. “You left it last night.”

  Hana fell over Tama reaching for her phone as he roused himself from his nest on the lounge floor. “Can you tidy up in here before I come back?” she asked, keeping her tone light, so she didn’t drive him away. “You can dump your sleeping stuff in Phoe’s room.”

  “But I wanna lie on my sleeping bag and watch TV in the day,” he grumbled and Hana sighed.

  “Whatever,” she said, resisting an argument and left.

  As Logan pulled his boots on to leave, a knock at the door heralded Bodie. Logan opened the door and the policeman pushed his way inside without invitation. “Oh, hi Senior Sergeant Johal,” Logan muttered. “Please come in. Oops, you already did.” He ignored his step son, zipping up his cowboy boots and straightening his trousers. Tama smirked from his sleeping bag on the floor, tasting trouble.

  “Will you be ok if I go to work?” Logan asked his nephew and Tama nodded. He leaned against the sofa with Phoenix dozing on his naked brown chest, half watching Scooby Doo. He sensed his uncle’s antagonism for the cop and tuned into Logan’s mood. Watching him keep a tight handle on his temper was always amusing, but only when someone else wound him up.

  “Where’s my mother?” Bodie demanded, tracking mud over the lounge floor and staring down at Tama.

  Tama’s eyes flicked towards Logan before answering, waiting for the blue touch paper to ignite and the fireworks to blaze. Logan stared at the back of Bodie’s head, his eyes narrowed and his expression thunderous. “Hey, son,” Logan said in a conversational tone, concentrating on Tama’s smirk and bypassing Bodie with his question. “Do you think it’s the same penalty for hitting a cop, as hitting an annoying cop you’re indirectly related to when he walks into your house without invitation?”

  “Na, reckon you’d get off with a caution,” Tama answered, distracted by the antic of the cartoon characters. “Go for it.” His lips brushed the downy head of the baby on his chest in a lazy kiss and Bodie swallowed and bit his lip in a wave of pure jealousy.

  “Can I help you Officer?” Logan said, giving Bodie the full effect of his practiced sarcasm and the police officer straightened his back and headed towards the archway leading to the bedrooms.

  “No, thanks. I’ll find her myself,” he spat. “I need to take a statement from my mother.” Bodie emphasised possession with his stress on ‘my’ and Logan stepped in front of him, blocking the archway without making it look deliberate.

  “She’s gone out,” he replied, his face expressionless. “See her later.”

  “Fantastic!” Bodie exclaimed spitefully. “Tell her I need to speak to her.” As the young cop turned, he caught the smirk exchanged between the Māori men and felt a dreadful pang of nameless emotion which took his breath away and labelled itself. Left out. The men’s close male bond looked so enviably strong, jealousy screamed inside Bodie’s head like a charging rhino. “Stay out of my life!” he shouted at Logan, surprising himself with the vehemence in his voice.

  Phoenix jumped on Tama’s chest and gave a cry of alarm, compounding Bodie’s guilt as the monster of the peace. Logan stood his ground, watching the young man’s inner difficulty and wondering if the moment of truth had finally arrived. It had brewed under the surface like dirty water since their first meeting, when Bodie realised his mother and the tall, striking Māori were emotionally entangled.

  Logan imagined Hana’s misery if he allowed the detonation and stepped back, offering Bodie the chance to walk away. Bodie didn’t move. “Just go mate,” Logan said, his tone reasonable, but the young man’s anger claimed too many of his brain cells for that to be possible.

  “You think you can buy your way into my family?” Bodie hissed. “Sending stuff for my son and flashing your cash around like the Mafia Godfather you really are. You’ll never replace my father, so don’t even try! He was more than you’ll ever be, Logan Du bloody Rose. You’re second best and even my mum knows it.”

  Logan fixed Bodie with a stare which made the young man feel as though his soul was stripped bare by the powerful grit coloured eyes drilling into it. Logan took a step into Bodie’s personal space and stared at him from his great vantage point. Bodie felt intimidated as though he’d shrunk against the doubling of the other man’s height. “Your father was amazing, was he?” Logan asked, his voice a hiss. Bodie blanched and balled his fists as Vikram Johal’s sins tumbled through his mind.

  Tama wiggled in his sleeping bag, trying to get free as he envisioned the situation getting out of control. He couldn’t get involved with Phoenix in his arms and looked around for somewhere safe to put her. Wide awake, the child stared across the room at her powerful father as he dwarfed her foolish, cop-brother, her grey eyes studying Logan with too much wisdom for a tiny girl. Logan glanced across at Tama’s frantic movements and connected spiritually with his daughter. Her eyes held his grandmother’s reproach as surely as if the old woman stood across the room from him. The battle of wills ceased as instantly as it began and Logan stepped abruptly away from Bodie and drew a deep breath. “I don’t know why you insist on maintaining this facade of ‘poor me’,” Logan said, trying hard to keep the bile from his voice. “You had a great upbringing with parents who both loved you. You know who you are and where you came from. You’ve had more love than Tama and I put together. You need to get over yourself, Bodie and get on with your own life, instead of trying to screw up Hana’s. She doesn’t deserve it. You might not like me, but I love her. Get used to it, man.” He pointed again at the door, telling the uniformed officer, “Now get the hell out of my...house and don’t come back until you’ve grown up.”

  Bodie didn’t need a third invitation to leave. He yanked the door open and stormed down the steps, hatred oozing from every pore. He didn’t close the door after him and strode away from the tiny unit feeling thwarted. Overtaken by a need for physical violence to cleanse his angry heart, Bodie had worked out exactly how to take Logan down and would have arrested him afterwards. Rage coursed through his veins at Logan’s sudden change of heart which denied Bodie the taste of victory as he imagined clicking the handcuffs over his step father’s olive wrists. “Another time, you bastard!” he spat into the empty street, hearing his words echo back to him from the brick walls of St Bart’s. The young man stamped
across the sports field, feeling foolish as the wet grass stained his trousers and covered his shoes. He remembered the last time a cop handcuffed Logan Du Rose and the cruel image bit at his anger; the metallic pressure on the Māori’s fragile flesh causing wheals and bruises which bled into his arms like he’d been battered. Bodie balled his fists and felt the anger trickle away to dismay. He pressed his knuckles to his mouth as he stopped on the hallowed cricket crease and squeezed his eyes tightly shut, searching for the fury and finding only emptiness and fear.

  Tama stood in the lounge in his boxer shorts, his sleeping bag slumped around his knees. Logan slammed the door behind his unwanted guest and hovered in the tiny entranceway, clenching and unclenching his fists. He avoided facing his perceptive daughter, dreading the sight of something else he couldn’t cope with.

  “Ha ha,” Tama laughed, breaking the silence. “That’s funny.”

  Logan stared at him, his equilibrium fighting to balance temper and pity. “What’s funny?” he snapped. “I didn’t see anything funny!”

  “I know what you almost said to him,” Tama snorted. “You nearly told him to ‘get the hell out of my shoebox’ didn’t you?” Tama did an impression of Logan’s deep voice and then ruined the effect with a high pitched giggle.

  “Yeah.” Logan nodded and gathered up the pile of reports on the table. He stalked across the room and kissed Phoenix on the forehead, avoiding her eyes and in his confusion, kissing Tama’s as well. He couldn’t take it back so he blagged it out, leaving for his tutor group and slamming the door behind him.

  Tama touched the space on his head and smiled at the baby in his arms, who chewed the back of her hand. “Well, little sis,” he said, happiness in his voice, “I think it’s time we changed your bum, stinky pants!”

  When Hana returned, she found Phoenix on her change mat on the double bed, kicking her legs in the air and singing. Tama knelt on the floor in his boxer shorts, digging around in the big cupboard drawers and pulling out baby-suits by the handful. “What are you doing?” Hana cried. “You’re making a right mess!”