by Bowes, K T
“I’m on duty soon,” he reminded her and Hana nodded and kept her eye roll to herself.
“A friend wants to see me.” Tama looked sideways at Bodie and deliberately didn’t name his colleague.
“And I’ve got work,” Bodie said, looking at his watch. “Thanks for the shower and lunch.” He smiled, a refreshing expression after the weeks of darkness. “I’ll talk to Amy and let you know.”
Everyone filtered away, but Logan drifted around the unit aimlessly while Hana got ready and put the baby in her car seat. “Are you cross I didn’t discuss my plans with you?” she asked her husband but he shook his head. “So what’s the matter?” she asked and Logan shrugged.
“Nothing, I’m fine.” Agitation crept into his voice and Hana sighed. Admitting defeat she kissed him goodbye and headed out in the Honda.
Robert and Elaine’s new motel was more upmarket after their long journey back from Wellington. When Hana knocked on their door with the car seat over her arm, she found them looking happy and rested. “Ah hen, how lovely to see ma wee girlie,” Robert whispered, wrapping Hana in a firm hug.
“I’ll make tea,” Elaine offered, gripping the tiny kettle from the night stand.
“Don’t worry, Lainey,” Robert said. “Mark’s meeting us at that little cafe we like, so why don’t we head off there now and have a nice coffee altogether?”
They both looked at Hana for her approval and she gave it with good grace, hope nipping at her soul at the thought of being a family unit again, even a dysfunctional one. Hana fished the pram from the car and transferred her sleeping baby into it and the little group wandered along Victoria Street until they arrived at a cafe half way down. It wasn’t too busy and they ordered, waiting in a booth for Mark and the drinks to arrive. “I ordered muffins and scones,” Robert said, treating Hana like a child and waggling his bushy eyebrows. She laughed, a sharp pain in her chest at the memory of being a carefree little girl still in his eyes.
The sight of a slim, blonde woman waiting for a take-away coffee near the counter caught her eye and Hana took a slow intake of breath. The woman faced the shop window concentrating on the view of Victoria Street, her hair cut shorter than the last time Hana saw her. Excusing herself for a moment and clambering over her pram into the aisle, Hana tapped her on the arm, readying her smile.
“I saw you.” Anka’s smile seemed wistful as she turned. “I assumed you wouldn’t want to talk.”
“Sorry.” Hana withdrew her hand. “Would you rather I didn’t?”
Anka’s emotions were confusing and impossible to read, but she shook her head. “No, please, I’m glad you did, I’m just surprised. I’ve done so much to hurt you; having sex with Tama in your lounge and...” Anka swallowed. “Ivan took great delight telling me about your conversation. He’s such a bastard.” Anka shook her head and examined the toes of her shiny red shoes.
Hana watched for deceit as she asked her question. “Did you know about Vik’s affair before he died?” she asked bluntly.
Anka pulled a face and widened her eyes in horror. “No! Damn that man! Ivan did, he knew but didn’t tell me until a few years ago when you started dating that relief teacher. He made a comment that maybe this one would be faithful and I made him tell me. I knew he’d told you the other day out of spite, but didn’t realise he’d falsely implicated me.” Anka shook her head, her customary composure gone.
“It’s ok,” Hana said. “It devastated me at the time because it made a mockery of friendships I relied on, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve got Logan and Phoenix and it’s ancient history. Besides which, I knew and didn’t tell.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anka asked, looking hurt. Her lips turned down and she stared at her shoes again.
“Shame, I guess. Embarrassment. I wanted to preserve Vik’s memory for his children, which turned out to be absolutely pointless. Bodie always knew and so did Marcus. Only Izzie is blissfully ignorant.”
“What a mess,” Anka sighed, shaking her head slowly. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for any part I played in it.” She touched Hana on the arm. “I’m also sorry for everything I’ve inflicted on you this last year. I’ve messed everything up.”
Hana looked at her old friend, realising how much she’d missed her. Anka seemed more like her old self, thinner and less confident but certainly happier. “Anka,” she said quietly, “I’ve missed you. We’ve both made mistakes but I forgive you everything.”
There were tears in the other woman’s eyes, desperate to take the proffered olive branch but knowing she didn’t deserve it. Anka nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Why don’t you come and sit with us?” Hana invited, indicating the booth as her father and stepmother sipped their newly arrived coffee.
“Meet Robert, my da and Elaine, my stepmother.” Hana fixed a wooden smile on her lips as she acknowledged Elaine, seeing her aunt’s relief.
Anka shot her a look of mystification and cocked her head. Hana was thankful for her tact in not asking how Robert McIntyre had risen from the grave. “Nice to meet you,” Anka said instead, nodding to the elderly couple. Robert dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief and rose to shake hands, overwriting the angry vision in Hana’s head and replacing it with the gentleman she remembered.
Hana sat next to her friend and when nobody was looking, took her hand under the table and squeezed it, reminded of the words Pastor Allen spoke once. ‘Unforgiveness is the cup of poison you pour for someone else and then drink yourself.’ Anka gulped and squeezed back, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. She started when a dark, handsome man approached the table and stood smiling at them with benevolence. “It became a party without me,” Mark said, feigning disappointment. Robert laughed and shook his head.
“I should probably go,” Anka said, rising.
“No, don’t.” Hana kept her hand over Anka’s, forcing her to stay seated. “This is my brother, Mark,” she said, shuffling into the corner so he could sit. He sat on her hand and Hana squeaked. “And he has a bony bottom!”
Mark leaned around Hana and gallantly shook hands with the pretty woman, a new spark of interest in his green eyes. Too late Hana realised her error and let out a slow exhale.
Phoenix whimpered in her pram and Hana shoved Mark out of the booth so she could go to her. He slotted himself back in, bailing Anka up in the corner and turning on his full charm for her benefit. An in-depth conversation ensued on health care, as Hana extracted her baby from the pram and removed her little jacket. Robert looked at Hana and smirked, nodding his head towards her brother and friend. Hana acknowledged a tiny sense of misgiving in her heart and the smile she returned was less than genuine. He winked as though he understood although he couldn’t have guessed. Hana chided herself. She’d either forgiven, or she hadn’t but to prove it, she’d have to let Anka’s sins go.
Phoenix wasn’t hungry but buoyant and happy once she properly woke. Hana asked the waitress for a soy fluffy; frothy milk in a tiny cup. When it came, she fed it to her daughter from a plastic spoon. In between each mouthful, Phoenix beamed at everyone around the table. “Big girl,” Hana whispered in her ear and she smiled up at her mother and kicked her legs.
“How old is she now?” Anka asked, leaning forward so that she could see around Mark.
“Almost seven months,” Hana said wistfully, thinking how quickly life disappeared.
“She’s gorgeous,” her friend complimented. “She’s forward for her age isn’t she?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t see other mothers and babies at the moment and it’s such a long time since Bo and Izzie, I can’t remember what they were doing at this age,” Hana admitted. “Logan and I spend a lot of time with her because she’s the only one, so she might learn things early.”
Phoenix chose that exact moment to beam up at her mother, her grey eyes round and knowing. She looked so much like Logan it made Hana smile. The group of accompanying adults let out a combined sigh to acknowledge her cuteness
and Phoenix ruffled like a queen.
Anka stayed until her take away-cup was empty. She refused Mark’s offer of a refill and excused herself. Hana handed Phoenix to her brother, standing up to let her friend out and walking onto the street with her. “Where are you living?” she asked.
“I’ve got an apartment over a restaurant close by. It’s cool,” she said. “I rent a parking space out back and they aren’t noisy. It’s nice sometimes to hear other people moving around and living their lives, less isolating. I’m working at the osteopath’s offices again. They heard I was back and asked if I wanted my old job, so it worked out fine.”
“Do you have a new cell phone number?” Hana asked. Her friend nodded and reaching in her bag, pulled her phone out.
“Remind me of yours, and I’ll text so you can save it.”
Hana read the number out and watched Anka’s long, manicured fingers punch it deftly into her phone, frightened the other woman just took it out of politeness. Anka looked up and read the anxiety in Hana’s face, pulling her into a warm hug. “Silly girl,” she whispered, “I’ll text you now. Then you can message me back and suggest another time to meet.”
Hana nodded and saw Anka send a message to her new contact. She sighed with relief at the promise of a relationship restored, still terrified the tennis player was a lonely figment of her imagination. Hana felt lighter of spirit as she headed back inside the cafe to find her daughter singing a loud and interesting song for her captive audience.
“Anka seems lovely,” Mark said, the twinkle in his green eyes giving him away. “What?” he laughed as Hana rolled her eyes at her father.
Elaine shook her head knowingly. “I’m sure I heard her tell you she was happy being single. Perhaps it was a hint she wished to stay that way?”
Mark shrugged nonchalantly and winked at his mother. “You always to assume the worst of me, mother dear. I’m fifty-six years old and very much past the ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ stage. I thought she might be nice company for my upcoming works dinner, not a night of rampant debauchery in a hotel!”
Elaine looked suitably shocked, but Hana and Robert giggled, more at the elderly woman’s discomfort than the thought of Anka and Mark. Hana resisted the urge to warn her brother to steer clear of Anka as she worked hard to put her life back together, deciding for once to keep her big mouth closed and let nature take its course.
“You seem uncomfortable,” Mark whispered and Hana swallowed and shrugged.
“I’m fine,” she lied, searching for the sense of unconditional forgiveness which evaded her.
Back at the unit, Tama and Lucy lounged together on the sofa behind the breakfast bar. Lucy looked different out of uniform, her blonde hair hanging long over her shoulders and makeup accentuating her beauty. Hana took it as a good sign that neither jumped as she blundered through the front door with a car seat and change bag. They talked in low voices, so Hana made a cup of tea one-handed and carried her still singing child to the bedroom for a feed. Phoenix wasn’t interested, filled up by the soy milk fluffy and laid on the bed trying to eat her own toes. Hana played with her until she noticed the child was dozing off. “It’s a lonely feeling, being ditched by your only companion,” she breathed, ruffling Phoenix’s soft curls and seeing her reach for her thumb. Hana changed her nappy without waking the infant and slipped her into the cot, feeling trapped with nowhere to go. She rattled around her bedroom until it was tidy but still boring.
In the hallway, Hana pulled long black boots over stockinged feet and marched into the lounge. Tama and Lucy had progressed beyond talking and sprang apart guiltily. Hana gave Tama a narrowed look. “Would you mind listening out for Phoe for a little while? You won’t forget about her, will you?” Her face told him in an unspoken language what she expected.
Tama ran his hand through his hair and shook his head, non-verbally promising he’d behave “I won’t forget her, Ma,” he said.
Hana raised an eyebrow, reminding him of his eager tryst with Anka while Phoenix slept down the hall and Tama blanched. “I won’t,” he assured her.
“Thanks.” Hana grabbed her phone from the baby change bag. She held it up in front of her face. “I’ve got this if you need me.”
Hana walked across to St Bart’s, nodding to Pete on reception as she passed. Dodging two rubber balls and the Year 9 body which followed them, Hana climbed the stairs to the top floor, finding the staff restroom and knocking on the middle of the bedroom doors.
“Hey, gorgeous. This is a nice surprise.” Logan’s sleeping bag lay on the single bed in a roll and Hana knew it wouldn’t stay there. As soon as everyone else cleared out, he’d move into the rest room and keep vigil, detesting the confinement of the well-used room. A radiator blasted out heat, making the room stuffy and tropical and marking and work books littered the desk. Logan’s tie dangled around his open shirt because even on Saturday Logan Du Rose dressed for work, donning a crisp, expensively tailored white shirt and bum-hugging black trousers. His wash bag sat on the shelf by the sink and the smell of his deodorant pervaded the air.
Hana shut the door behind her, keeping eye contact with her husband and slipping off her boots. He looked at her curiously as she climbed onto the bed and stood, pulling him towards her so she could kiss him at level height. Hana sought his eyes, unreadable pools of swirling greys turning blacker by the second.
“I’ve got dinner duty,” Logan breathed, his lips twitching at the corners.
Hana shrugged. “Then you’ll be late.” She undid his shirt buttons one at a time, nipping at his bottom lip at the feel of each satisfying pop. Logan tried to put his arms around her but found his hands batted away as Hana teased and undressed him. Logan loved her so much it was like a physical pain in his ribs, made worse by his growing dependence on her. His heart stopped every time she walked into the same room still – after a year of marriage. It terrified the independent once lonely man that he might one day be forced to return to his former life without her. It left him emotionally stripped and vulnerable; to be so unutterably linked with another human being.
Hana enjoyed driving her husband mad. She touched her lips lightly to his muscular chest and shoulders, sensing she possessed him fully but knowing he’d only take so much teasing. It was fun while it lasted. She kissed, nibbled and breathed on his flesh until the gentle resistance of his wrists in her hands became like a tsunami and she couldn’t stop his strong arms wrapping around her and pulling her down onto the bed. “I love you, Hana Du Rose,” he whispered, slipping her dress over her head. His fingers shook as they brushed the red coils from her neck, letting them slither across her shoulders. “Don’t leave me,” he begged, his grey eyes flashing like a stormy sea.
“I won’t,” Hana promised, sighing as her breasts tumbled from her bra and Logan’s lips covered hers.
Logan’s temporary abode looked like a jumble sale with clothing mixed up on the floor and Hana’s knickers hanging from the notice board. She snuggled into Logan’s warm armpit and squinted, reading the words ‘Fire Drill’ which were partially obscured by her underwear. Hana covered one eye, so it read ‘Fire’ and then red lace, smirking to herself.
“Nice knickers,” Logan sighed, smiling with his eyes closed. “Very irresistible.”
“Mmnn,” Hana sighed. “I noticed.” She listened to her husband breathe in and out, glad she’d put more effort into the state of her underwear of late. A pair of elasticated, grey-washed-granny-knickers with holes in the sides wouldn’t look so good, caught on a rogue drawing pin. “I might leave them there as a reminder,” she threatened.
Logan turned on his side and wrapped his arms around her, muscles bulging under soft skin. “And leave me with the thought of you walking home across the paddock with no knickers on? You wouldn’t.”
Hana giggled and Logan kissed her, shrouding them in a haze of musky aftershave. She sighed. “Now I know what utter contentment feels like. I don’t want to move ever again.”
“Is Tama looking after
Phoe?” Logan asked and Hana nodded into his chest.
“Yeah, I guess I should go back.” Reality visited with its snake-like fingers of monotony, making food, tidying houses and going through the motions of life with its boring, necessary reminders. Hana sat up and pulled a face. The slippery sleeping bag shivered down her body revealing a breast and a delicious slice of porcelain stomach.
“Not yet.” Logan kissed her again and shifted so he could pull her on top of him and Hana knew she’d be longer than promised. Logan moved so Hana straddled him, running his fingers down the soft skin of her back, his eyes roving over her body. “Tama can cope.” His words brushed against Hana’s hair and it shuddered in response, falling onto his chest and stroking the bulging pectorals. Logan bit his lip and reeled Hana in, smiling at her feigned resistance as she sank into his embrace. They pushed the mundanity of life aside for a few more minutes, looking for highs to sustain them in a temporary ecstasy.
“I feel like a naughty schoolgirl!” Hana exclaimed later in hushed tones as she sneaked out of Logan’s room and into the restroom.
“Don’t say that!” he chided, enfolding her from behind and kissing the back of her neck through her hair. “I’ll take you back into my room.”
Hana laughed and wriggled free. “Make me a cup of tea to take your mind off it.”
Logan narrowed his eyes and slapped Hana’s bottom but obeyed, his cowboy boots clicking on the lino floor. She contemplated asking him what was wrong earlier but guessed he wouldn’t tell her. Hana wandered around the tired restroom and sank into a worn armchair, staring at a stain on the carpet by the collapsed sofa. “Is that your blood?” she asked, pulling a face and Logan nodded.
“Yeah. I think I need it back.” He smirked, referring to his haemophilia in joking terms.
Hana shivered, remembering the incident and pushed the memory away in a rush. She grasped at the question which snaked its way into her mind, remembered from the previous day but not asked. “Where was James?” she said and a strange, unfathomable look crossed her husband’s face.