Wai shook her head. ‘No, not him.’
‘A man from here, from the village?’
‘Ae, from here.’
Kitty felt panic threatening to engulf her again and fought unsuccessfully to push it away. ‘For God’s sake, Wai, who then?’
‘I cannot say.’
‘You can say, Wai, you have to say! If it’s a man of good standing your father might not be so angry.’
Wai began to button her dress.
‘Is it?’ Kitty urged. ‘Is it a man with mana?’
Wai sighed, then gave an almost imperceptible nod.
Kitty felt a tendril of relief beginning to unfurl inside her, but froze when Wai said, ‘A Pakeha man. A man of God.’
And suddenly, Kitty knew. A wave of nausea surged through her. ‘Oh no, not Uncle George?’
Wai snatched her hairbrush off her chest of drawers and hurled it across the room, where it hit the wall with a loud crack. ‘I did not want to!’ she cried. ‘He said I would be saved and I would get the redemption. He said I would go to Hell if I told!’ Her anger turned to despair and her voice shot up several octaves. ‘I did not want to go to Hell, Kitty—I did not want to burn for ever!’
Kitty felt a rush of pure hatred for her greedy, self-indulgent, demented uncle. She bit her lip, then took a deep breath to calm herself. ‘What did he say when you told him? About…’ she pointed at Wai’s belly.
‘I did not have to tell him, he saw. He told me to stay away from him because now I am unclean.’ Wai stared at Kitty hopelessly. ‘I do not know what to do.’
Kitty stared back. Neither did she.
Amy stood in the long afternoon shadows outside her cousin’s bedroom window, listening to every word Wai and Kitty said. A sharp, sour rage had risen up from her gut and was burning her throat. She felt her anger twitching in her limbs and tensed her muscles against it.
Wai had always been the favoured one, the one who got the privileges and the respect and the special treatment. She was beautiful and loved and complacent and everything always worked out for her. And now she was carrying the child of a man of God while she, Amy, had to put up with the stinking sailors off the ships slobbering on her and spilling their seed in her, all so Tupehu could have his muskets. But even as she bit back a curse of jealous anger, she realised that now there was a way she could stop all that, perhaps even stop the English Queen from coming and stealing everything from her people. And this time, everything would not work out for silly, spoiled Wai.
She crept silently away, across the yard and down the side of the house until she reached the beach. Then she ran, faster than she had ever run before, along the sand until she came to the track that led to Pukera. If she hurried she would reach the village just after Tupehu himself arrived. And then she would tell him what his precious daughter had done.
After a mile she slowed down to regain her breath. As she walked, she thought she heard the faint sounds of someone coming down the narrow track the other way. She froze. Yes, someone was definitely coming, and she did not have time to stand and make stupid small talk. She stepped silently off the path and moved into the bush where she squatted behind a clump of toetoe. Concentrating, she slowed her breathing and willed her body to become completely motionless.
She felt rather than heard feet approaching, then the person on the track was almost directly in front of her. She held her breath and stayed as still as possible.
Whoever it was stopped.
Seconds went by until she thought she couldn’t hold her breath for a moment longer.
Then a hand burst through the toetoe, grabbed her hair and yanked her out onto the track.
‘I thought it was you,’ Haunui said in Maori. ‘Who else would skulk in the bushes?’
‘Let go, you are hurting me!’ Amy aimed a kick at Haunui’s legs, but he stepped aside, pulling her head around so that her neck was uncomfortably bent.
‘What are you up to this time?’ he asked.
She twisted her head so she was staring up into his ugly face. He looked amused, which was not always a good sign with him. ‘Nothing!’ she spat.
‘Amiria, you are never up to nothing. Where are you going?’
‘Let me go.’
Haunui let go of her hair so she could straighten up, but clamped a massive hand around her forearm to stop her from running away. ‘Where are you going?’ he said again, more sharply this time.
‘To talk to Tupehu.’
Haunui snorted. ‘What do you have to say that my brother would want to hear?’
Amy lost her temper. ‘Why do you treat me like this? Why do you not respect me? I am sick of it!’
‘Because this is the way you treat everyone, Amiria. Without respect.’
Amy tossed her hair back and flashed a triumphant smile. ‘Well, I will be respected now. I have news about Wai that I am sure her father will want to hear.’
‘Is that so? Then I am sure I will want to hear it also.’
‘You will,’ Amy replied, ‘but not from me. Soon everyone will know!’
Haunui’s grip tightened. ‘Tell me, Amiria.’
‘No!’
Suddenly Amy couldn’t resist the opportunity to hurt him, this man who had always so obviously favoured Wai and looked out for her. ‘Wai is with child, the Reverend Kereha’s child,’ she said, feeling immense satisfaction wash over her as Haunui’s dark face froze. ‘There will be no marriage to Te Awarau, there will be no treaty, there will not even be Wai. Tupehu will kill her: you know it.’
Haunui did know it. They glared at each other, both motionless for a long, long second. Then he dropped Amy’s arm as though it were alight, turned, and raced off down the track towards Paihia.
Amy gaped at his disappearing back, then, realising his intention, ran as fast as she could in the opposite direction.
‘Kitty?’ Sarah called, annoyed because there was no one in the kitchen and no sign of supper. ‘Kitty, where are you?’
She went back into the hall and was about to go upstairs when she heard voices. She retraced her steps and went into the parlour, where she found Kitty and Wai sitting side by side on the sofa.
‘There you are!’ she exclaimed. ‘Really Kitty, supper hasn’t even been started…’ She trailed off as she noticed Wai’s tear-stained face. ‘What on earth’s the matter now? And where’s Amy? Reverend Kelleher will be home very shortly.’
Kitty felt her face grow hot as an unwelcome vision of Uncle George—her aunt’s husband—rutting away on top of Wai bloomed in her imagination. Her first instinct was to keep her mouth shut, but she realised that Sarah would be the best person to talk to, even if the revelation did cause her pain. She was a devout Christian, she cared about life’s unfortunates; she would understand, surely. And anyway, Kitty didn’t know what else to do.
She took a deep breath and stood up. ‘Aunt Sarah, Wai is in trouble.’
‘Go on.’
‘I am with child,’ Wai said from the sofa, her head down and her hair falling across her face.
Sarah regarded her for a long moment. Then, wearily, she said, ‘Yes, I know that. I’ve known for about a month.’
Kitty blurted, ‘But she says she didn’t know herself until a few weeks ago!’
‘That’s as may be,’ Sarah said, ‘but I’ve tended enough confined women in my time to know what pregnancy looks like.’ She turned back to Wai. ‘Who is the father?’
Wai looked up at Kitty with pleading eyes. Kitty flinched but knew she had to say it. ‘It was Uncle George.’
Sarah went very, very still, and in that instant Kitty knew her aunt believed her.
But it made no difference. Sarah stepped up to Kitty and slapped her hard across the face. ‘That’s for telling lies, you nasty, ungrateful girl.’ She reached out and jerked Wai to her feet. ‘And you, you little trollop, get out of my house,’ she hissed, hauling Wai by the arm across the parlour and into the hall.
Wai lost her footing and fell to her knees, but Sarah ke
pt dragging her, not even stopping when Wai’s skirt ripped and her head banged against the wall. Wai began to wail, reaching up to break Sarah’s grip on her arm.
Tasting blood on her lip, Kitty hurried after them. ‘Aunt Sarah, stop it! Please, you’re hurting her!’
Sarah ignored her. Outside now, she yanked Wai to her feet and shoved her off the verandah, where she stumbled and fell over again, collapsing on the ground in a sobbing heap. Kitty ran out after her and was appalled to feel Sarah’s hand on her back.
‘Go on, you too!’ Sarah shrieked. ‘This is your doing, you and your wanton ways! We should never have brought you with us!’
Kitty helped Wai to her feet as the front door slammed behind them. She felt tears burning, and suddenly she was crying as hard as her friend.
‘I am sorry, Kitty, I am sorry!’ Wai sobbed. ‘And she will tell my father.’
Kitty couldn’t speak for a moment. Finally she said through her tears, ‘No, she won’t, not if she doesn’t want to say who did it.’
Wai gave a hysterical, sobbing little laugh. ‘She will lie.’
About to say that her aunt never lied, Kitty held her tongue, because what was denying Uncle George’s part in this if it wasn’t lying? ‘Then we have to go,’ she said.
‘Go? Go where?’
‘I don’t know, but we can’t stay here.’
Kitty took Wai’s hand and led her out of the garden and down onto the beach. Her grip was strong but her confidence wasn’t; she had no idea what to do next.
Then she saw that someone was running along the sand towards them and took several steps backwards before she realised it was Haunui, waving his arms and yelling. He didn’t stop running until he reached them. From his heaving chest Kitty knew he must have come a fair distance.
He bent over with his hands on his knees, drawing in great lungfuls of air. ‘You must go!’ he gasped. ‘Tupehu will know by now. Amiria has gone to tell him.’
‘Amy?’ Kitty said, confused.
‘Ae, she knows about the child.’
‘No she doesn’t.’
‘She does. You must go now!’ he insisted, nodding at Wai. ‘Or Tupehu will kill her.’
Wai’s knees buckled, and she sat down on the sand.
‘Get up,’ Haunui said, lifting her to her feet again, ‘you must go.’
‘But where?’ Kitty cried, panic settling like an iron band around her chest and squeezing her heart. ‘Where can we go?’
‘Come,’ he said, and trotted off ahead of them. Kitty and Wai watched his retreating back for a moment, then ran after him.
They followed him to the eastern end of the beach where, among the collection of beached waka, Rian Farrell stood in the shallows about to launch a rowboat. And Kitty suddenly knew what Haunui intended to do.
Rian straightened at the undoubtedly odd sight of the three of them running towards him, Haunui waving his arms madly and the girls holding their skirts above their knees.
Looking less than pleased, he called, ‘What the hell is going on?’
‘You must take Wai with you,’ Haunui said as they approached.
‘What?’
‘You must take Wai to Sydney. She is in trouble.’
Rian pushed his hat to the back of his head and sighed. ‘What sort of trouble?’
‘She’s pregnant, to my uncle,’ Kitty said, wanting rather inappropriately to laugh at his shocked expression. ‘Tupehu will kill her when he finds out, which he probably has by now.’
Rian raised an eyebrow at Haunui. ‘Will he?’
‘Ae.’
Kitty blurted, ‘And he won’t sign the treaty, either, when he realises a missionary is responsible,’ then felt like kicking herself as she remembered that signing was the last thing Captain Farrell wanted. She closed her eyes against a fresh wave of tears; she had just ruined Wai’s chances of escape.
A small grunt made her open them again: the captain was handing Wai into the rowboat.
‘Kitty!’ Wai wailed.
Kitty waded into the waves, leant over the gunwale and hugged her friend. ‘It will be all right, I promise. Look after yourself. And the baby.’
‘Come with me,’ Wai begged.
Kitty shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
‘Why not?’
‘I just can’t, that’s all.’ Because she was too scared to, but she wasn’t going to admit to that. Not in front of Rian Farrell.
‘Stand back,’ Rian said, and as Kitty moved away he gave the prow of the rowboat a shove into deeper water and jumped in.
Kitty went to stand next to Haunui on the sand. He seemed as shocked and dismayed as she felt.
‘She will be safe now,’ he said as the boat turned and set out for the Katipo anchored further out in the harbour. He raised his hand to return Wai’s wave. She looked very small and alone sitting in the middle of the boat. ‘What will you do?’
Kitty shook her head. ‘I don’t know.’
‘You should have gone. Tupehu will blame somebody.’
‘I hope that will be Uncle George. Then maybe we’ll be sent home, back to England.’
‘You want to go home?’ Haunui asked.
‘Yes,’ Kitty said emphatically. ‘I hate living with Uncle George and Aunt Sarah. And now Aunt Sarah hates me.’ She thought about the scandal that would still be a talking point in Dereham. ‘But I can’t go home. Maybe Mrs Williams will take me in.’
Haunui grunted. They waited until the rowboat was halfway out to the Katipo, then turned to walk back along the beach.
‘Oh no,’ Kitty gasped and pointed. Heading towards them along the sand, but still a distance away, came a phalanx of running figures.
‘My brother,’ Haunui said flatly. ‘And he is armed.’
The war party descended on them with frightening speed. Paralysed with fear, Kitty could see Tupehu at the fore of his men, all of whom were brandishing spears and taiaha. Even from this distance she could hear his screams of rage. Then, spying the rowboat now almost alongside the Katipo, he stopped and hurled his spear out across the waves. It fell well short, but there was no mistaking the vicious sentiment behind it. Slowly, he turned his gaze back to her and let out a long, loud stream of invective in Maori.
Haunui snatched her hand and they were racing back the way they’d just come. Throwing himself at the first waka they came to, he began to push it across the sand and into the water.
‘Help me!’ he ordered as Kitty stood dumbly by.
She put her hands on the low prow and shoved, grunting as the vessel moved faster and its stern slid into the waves. When the waka was afloat, Haunui waded back to her, picked her up and dumped her in it. She landed on her side, her face jarring against the hull. Manoeuvring the waka to face the sea, he vaulted in and snatched up a paddle. He began to strike out for the Katipo, the huge muscles in his arms and chest straining and his teeth bared with the effort.
Behind them, on the beach, Tupehu ordered his men to hurl their spears. They did, but the waka was already moving out of range. It was only moments, however, before his men set about launching one of the bigger vessels.
Haunui paddled for his life. Kitty sat up, her hand clamped over her mouth, which had started bleeding again. They were slowly nearing the Katipo, but it seemed that Captain Farrell had already given the order to weigh anchor—the schooner’s stern was drifting lazily around and her sails were unfurling and snapping, filling with the sharp offshore breeze. They would never make it in time.
Looking over her shoulder, she saw that Tupehu’s men had floated their waka. Tupehu stood at the prow, still shouting and waving his fists, as his warriors sat down and prepared to paddle.
But nothing happened.
Haunui, who was also glancing back, was starting to laugh.
‘What?’ she said, not seeing anything funny at all.
‘No paddles!’ he said. ‘Stole a waka with no paddles!’ And, still hooting with laughter, he paddled even harder.
The Katipo had stopped d
rifting and was standing in, apparently waiting for them. Kitty could see Wai leaning over the ship’s rail, yelling, but couldn’t hear what she was saying. Behind her stood Captain Farrell. And then he pointed.
Kitty’s heart nearly stopped as she saw that Tupehu had launched another waka and was quickly gaining on them.
‘He’s coming!’ she shrieked at Haunui. ‘He’s catching up!’
Haunui doubled his efforts and Kitty could hear him grunting with every dip of the paddle. The waka picked up even more speed, and the distance between them and the Katipo began to narrow. As they came alongside, the schooner tacked and began to move off. A rope ladder dropped down, and Haunui reached out and grabbed the bottom of it.
He threw his paddle aside. ‘Up!’ he urged, and gave Kitty’s backside a good shove as she set her feet on the bottom rungs. She scampered up but, her boots tangling in her dress, stopped to lift her skirts and gather them under her arms, not caring what Haunui could see from beneath. She felt the ladder drop a little as he climbed on himself; looking down she saw their waka slowly drifting away, and knew that if she fell now she would surely drown.
At the top Rian leant out and dragged her up and over the rail. There was a thud as Haunui arrived beside her and collapsed on the deck, his breath tearing his throat.
‘That was cutting it a bit fine,’ Rian said.
Kitty struggled to her feet and squinted back towards the shore. Tupehu was still coming, and still yelling and gesticulating, but already the gap between him and the Katipo was increasing.
Rian bellowed, ‘All hands, clap on!’, sending his crew running in all directions. Soon they were skimming across the water before the wind, past Waitangi where small fires were beginning to glow in the encroaching dusk on Mr Busby’s lawn, past Kororareka on the opposite side of the harbour, around the point and between the heads, and then, finally, out into the wide, dark ocean.
Part Two
Kitty Page 16