Past Perfect

by Karen Zelas

  ‘Watch it, son,’ Ben warned, as Jason pushed past him in the doorway. He stopped beside Sue. ‘What was that?’

  ‘Aroha. She rang before you got in last night.’

  ‘Dinner?’

  ‘Yes.’ Sue could not read the expression on Ben’s face. ‘What is it?’

  ‘Nothing.’ Like father, like son.

  ‘You don’t sound very keen. You usually enjoy their company.’

  Ben shrugged. Sue sealed the sandwiches in plastic wrap, picked an apple and banana from the fruit bowl. ‘Your lunch is ready, Jase,’ she called. Turning to Ben, she said, ‘So, that okay with you?’

  ‘What?’ Ben could be so exasperating; Sue wondered whether it came spontaneously or if he had to work at it.

  ‘Dinner with Aroha and Hemi,’ she repeated, enunciating each word precisely.

  ‘If you want.’

  ‘If we both want,’ said Sue. She was leaning against the bench, her arms folded. Ben shrugged. ‘You don’t want to?’ Suddenly she decided she was not taking any more of this nonsense. ‘Well, I do.’ Her voice was firm. They always enjoyed themselves with Hemi and Aroha; she wanted to go; they would go.

  As the departure date for their trip to London drew closer, Sue spent what little spare time she had with the microfiches. She had not expected it to be so painstaking. She thought the birth records the most reliable way of making connections and persevered with this line of research. While she was successful in identifying the children of Marie Suzanne and Catherine Marie and, eventually, their grandchildren, she could find none for Jules Etienne. Her curiosity was aroused. Either he had not married or had had no children.

  But the descendents of Marie and Catherine did not lead Sue to her father. So she decided to work backwards. She knew her father’s birth date, but, beyond that, it was a matter of patiently reviewing records, one after another. She started by taking her grandparents’ details from her father’s birth certificate. Her father was an only child, born shortly before his father left for Italy in the Second World War. She found her Nana Austin’s first name had been Ngaire, and she had Dujardin as a middle name. Through the retention of this family name, she would track the lineage.

  The two ends of the path had not met, but the gap was narrowing.

  13.

  The Saturday before they left arrived crisp and clear; one of those beautiful Christchurch winter days that reminded Sue why she had never followed the drift north. By evening, frost was in the air. She muffled up in a warm coat and possum-fur scarf, over a V-necked black jersey and softly flowing skirt made from a variety of richly embroidered fabrics and black laces. It was a recent acquisition, a skirt she enjoyed wearing, one which showed her figure to advantage. An unfamiliar self-confidence was taking hold of Sue, which she naively attributed to her dress, but which sat comfortably nevertheless.

  Ben had been closeted in his study most of the day, re-revising his paper for the conference. Sue knew better than to disturb him. Even now they were on their way, he seemed to be somewhere else. Sue was determined to make him speak with her. There must be something to talk about. She wanted this to be a good evening. And she did not want Aroha and Hemi to see the rift between them; she was going to heal the rift and did not want a legacy of gossip in its wake.

  ‘Is it going okay? Your paper?’ she thrust into the silence as they drove.

  ‘Mmm? Oh, I wasn’t thinking about that.’

  ‘What, then?’

  ‘Nothing important.’ The silence continued. He was shutting her out; it was hard to sustain a semblance of good humour.

  ‘I hope you’re going to perk up a bit for Aroha and Hemi.’

  Ben’s eyes remained fixed on the sweeping beam of the headlights. Even in the semi-darkness, Sue could see his mouth tighten. She should not have said it; it just slipped out. She was at a loss where to go from there, and lapsed into silence, not trusting herself to be unprovocative. She wanted to shake Ben, shout at him, but her rational, reasonable side told her to remain quiet.

  They followed the curve of River Road. Sue watched the moon’s path glint mercury on the slowly moving water and shimmer on the native grasses on the banks. They were heading for Burwood. Aroha and Hemi had a comfortable 1970s concrete-block bungalow, which they had extended to cater for their children and the continuous stream of relatives and friends who came and went. It had a welcoming, homey feel that Sue enjoyed.

  Tonight the log burner was belching black smoke. Ben sniffed the air as they hurried to the front door. ‘They won’t get away with that much longer,’ he said.

  Hemi answered their ring. ‘Haere mai. Come in. By geez, it’s cold out there, eh? Quick.’ Sue was never quite sure whether Hemi was poking fun at himself, overdoing the Maori thing. He stepped back and waved them inside with a generous gesture.

  ‘You’ll have to get rid of that burner, old chap. It’s polluting the whole neighbourhood. Glad you don’t live next door to us.’ Ben handed his padded jacket and a bottle of Hunter’s Sauvignon Blanc to Hemi. Sue was pleased to see Ben chivvying Hemi; he was obviously coming out of himself.

  Hemi giggled, a strange sound from such a big man. ‘I suppose you’re going to dob us in when the new regs come into force, eh?’

  Ben grinned. ‘I might at that.’ Well, there’s still some humour in the man then, Sue thought. ‘Unless you give me a good reason not to.’

  ‘Like a Bourbon?’

  ‘I’ll settle for Scotch.’

  ‘Sorry, mate. Bourbon or beer.’

  Sue wandered through to the kitchen where Aroha was hot and frazzled, lifting a heavy baking dish in and out of the oven in a state of indecision.

  ‘You’re just in time. Do you think this is cooked?’ Aroha dropped her oven gloves on the bench and gave Sue a resounding kiss on the cheek; none of these air kisses for Aroha. ‘Love your skirt. Bet it cost a packet.’

  ‘Ssh! I treated myself.’ Sue looked around to see Ben was not within earshot. ‘After the Department party,’ she added.

  ‘Right. You deserved it.’ Aroha took Sue’s arm and ushered her into the living room, a large room with large, soft furniture. ‘Doesn’t Sue look smashing, Hemi?’ Sue sank into an armchair. She felt good, comfortable. The evening was going to be all right.

  ‘Sure does. Let me know when you’re on to the next model, Ben.’ He giggled. Sue cringed inwardly; Hemi did not know how close to reality he was steering. Or did he? She had no idea what others knew about Ben and Alisha. She felt herself flush.

  ‘Hey. That’s going a bit far.’ Aroha thumped Hemi, none too gently, on his thick biceps, while Ben’s head turned from one to the other, his expression unreadable. ‘Come on. Drink up, folks. Dinner’s ready. I haven’t slaved over a hot stove all day to let it burn to a crisp now.’ Aroha led the way to the table. Sue and Ben followed silently, drinks in hand.

  The conversation loosened up with the food and wine, and drifted into two. Hemi was bending Ben’s ear about a new business venture he was heading for Ngai Tahu and Ben was exploring its down-the-track sociological implications.

  Over dessert, Hemi said to Ben and Aroha, ‘Well, you two will be at this conference in no time. Getting the low-down on crims.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were going, too,’ Sue said to Aroha. ‘Ben, you didn’t tell me.’ Ben did not respond. He opened and closed his mouth but nothing came out. He flicked a quick glance at Aroha. Surely he was not having an affair with Aroha as well? Her husband was becoming a sex fiend.

  Hemi turned to Sue. ‘I wonder how many psychopathic sociologists will be there.’ Sue shrugged. ‘Keep an eye on Aroha, will you?’ he said to Ben, who fidgeted in his seat and made a pretence of picking his serviette up off the floor. ‘She’ll be a long way from home. Don’t want some unscrupulous bloke getting off with her.’ Hemi’s infectious giggle quelled the rising tension.

  ‘I can look after myself, love. I’m a big girl now.’ Aroha’s large bosom rippled with mirth.

  ‘That’s what
I’m afraid of. I thought of not letting her go,’ Hemi added, more subdued.

  ‘Surely not,’ said Sue, then laughed fatuously.

  ‘He’s not serious.’ Aroha sounded a little less than convinced. ‘But he’ll miss me,’ she turned to Hemi, ‘won’t you, love? I haven’t been overseas on my own before.’

  ‘Perhaps Aroha will need to keep an eye on Ben,’ Sue proffered. The wine had loosened her tongue. In the pause that followed, she wished she could suck this comment, too, back between her lips. ‘Only joking,’ she said in desperation, and changed the subject. ‘Ben’s been working hard on his paper. Hours and hours.’

  ‘Not really.’ Ben looked displeased.

  ‘He wants you to think he just knocked it off in a morning. No blood, sweat and tears.’ It felt safe to challenge Ben just a little in company. ‘Are you going to hear it, Aroha?’

  ‘Wouldn’t miss it. The folks in the Department will want to know how it went. Feature large in my obligatory study leave report, it will.’

  Ben winced. It was his turn to change the subject. ‘Sue’s going to France with her sister while I’m busy.’

  ‘Nice. To hell with the conference. Can I come to France instead?’ Aroha laughed.

  ‘Good idea,’ mumbled Ben.

  Akaroa,

  3rd October, 1842.

  Ma chère Maman,

  I am again with child. I am keeping well and, since this time I know better what to expect, I am not so afraid. It is not easy raising children in these conditions, as you can imagine, but they are worth their weight in gold. And we could do with some gold! We have plans. We hear of the fortunes to be made in the gold fields in the south of this island, but the winters there are most inclement and the shanty towns are no place for families. So, we have resolved to rest our future with the opportunities we can make in this part of the country. Only single men have been lured away, none of the married men.

  Father Tripe is soon to follow Father Comte. While I do not feel the same affinity for him, I shall be most sad to see him depart. It is a great shame on our community that its people do not retain sufficient interest in worshipping Our Lord and praising him for his bounty and oversight. As well as no Mass, there will no longer be classes for the children to learn the scriptures, reading and writing once the priests have gone.

  Some parents have asked whether I would give their children lessons in letters and I am considering this. Our cottage is too small, but if I could use the Fathers’ house it might be possible. Now that our land is cleared, Claude has more time to devote to cultivation, which would release me a few hours each day. Jules is now easily entertained and, hopefully, the next one will be less troublesome. Besides, the older children all seem to love the little ones. And Rose or her daughter, Justine, would, I am sure, help with my children, if need be. It is really quite exciting to contemplate, Maman. I have always wanted to be a school mistress. I think I will say Yes. Claude likes the idea. It will mean we can save more.

  M. Belligny has gone to Sydney to bring back cattle. There are as yet no French cattle in Akaroa. Occasionally, we treat ourselves to a little butter or cream, when the Englishman, Holmes, walks over from Pigeon Bay with dairy produce. But, Mon Dieu! Is it expensive? Still, it is a long walk and a steep climb for him through the bush each week, and we all have to make a little money where we can.

  I continue to improve my knowledge of the English language, practising whenever I have the opportunity. I was teaching Te Marama and her children the alphabet recently. It was a lovely spring day and I had walked with Jules on my back to Onuku to visit. Soon I will not be able to make such a long trip, so I took the opportunity while I could. We rapidly gathered a crowd of curious women and children, as we sat on the ground outside her whare, or hut. Tama was there. He learns very quickly. He is becoming quite a young man and now spends most of his time fishing and hunting with the men of the tribe. The boys mature early here.

  Just as spring has come to us now, you must be feeling the cool touch of autumn in La Rochelle. I hope the coming winter is not too harsh. Please give my love to all and a special hug to the young ones.

  Your Bibi

  A door slammed, followed by footsteps and laughter in the kitchen. The living room door cracked open and a handsome, grinning face appeared.

  ‘OK if we come in?’ Tau had his father’s build and his giggle. He was followed by a slim young woman with fair skin and long curls which glinted red. In spite of the weather, she had the obligatory bare mid-riff. Sue shivered; the older she got, the more “warmth” meant being snug around the middle. She had to admit, though, that the look oozed sexual promise on the right person, and this girl was the right person – she moved with undulating grace.

  Aroha eased herself off the sofa. She put her arm around the young woman and said, ‘This is Gaye. Tau’s fiancée.’

  ‘Oh.’ The small exclamation escaped Sue involuntarily. The tip of an unconscious conservative iceberg exposed. She cringed; she despised racism and racists, and would never have placed herself in that company. Another discovery about herself; she would have to take the bad with the good. She tried to counter her surprise with an overly broad smile at Gaye and Tau.

  ‘Sue. And Ben,’ Aroha continued, gesturing to each in turn.

  ‘Hello, Gaye. I … I didn’t know you were engaged, Tau. Ah … Congratulations to you both.’ Sue hoped no one noticed that the words were reluctant to leave her mouth. There was a stirring in a place she was unwilling to visit, something about difference. She was blushing again.

  ‘Is it getting too hot in here?’ Hemi half rose to reduce the heat pouring from the burner.

  ‘No, no,’ Sue stammered. ‘Must be getting menopausal. I’ll be all right in a moment.’ She was furious with herself.

  ‘Want something to eat?’ Aroha asked her son.

  ‘We’ve eaten, thanks,’ said Tau. The firelight danced on Gaye’s hair, spinning it to gold. ‘Anyway, we’re not staying. Just in to pick up supplies and leave the car.’

  When they had gone, Sue asked Aroha, ‘The engagement. You didn’t say. Were you … expecting it?’

  ‘Pretty much.’ Behind her hand she added, ‘Well, I was. Hemi doesn’t really notice anything that isn’t part of his plan.’ Then she added, ‘I hope they’ll be okay.’

  Sue didn’t reply.

  A few minutes later, she offered to help Aroha in the kitchen. She wanted the chance to talk away from Ben’s ear.

  ‘What is it between you and Ben tonight?’ she asked. Aroha looked startled and uncertain. ‘It’s okay. You can tell me.’ She did not truly believe it was anything sexual, so it seemed safe to ask.

  Aroha stacked dishes in silence and Sue was wondering whether to let it drop, when she finally spoke. ‘He’s in a snitch because I mentioned to Des that he’s been sniffing around Alisha. I had to. For his sake as well as hers. I’m sorry, Suzie.’ She gripped Sue’s arm. ‘I don’t know how far it’s gone, but it had to stop. At best, he’s been making a fool of himself, at worst …’ She lifted her shoulders and let them drop. ‘What sort of friend would I be if I stood by and did nothing?’

  Sue wondered why she was so stunned. It was really nothing she did not know already. Perhaps it was finding her husband’s indiscretion to be common knowledge. If Des knew, she supposed Olivia would know; other staff in the Department must have noticed – her daughter had, and she was in a different school; everyone on campus could be talking about it. Sue would never be able to set foot there again.

  Akaroa,

  28th November, 1842.

  Ma chère Maman,

  We have had a most frightening time these two past weeks. Hoards of Maoris have descended upon Akaroa from land and sea, massing at nearby Onuku, in a terrifying display of strength. A chief called Iwikau from Port Levy, on the far side of the Peninsula, came with 200 men in whaling and sealing boats, while another chief from further south brought 50 warriors overland. I have barely slept for fear we will be murdered in our be
ds. You cannot imagine our distress, Maman. I have always found the Maoris to be friendly and welcoming, no threat to our well-being. This has quite shaken my confidence. We hear they have been plotting and arguing amongst themselves. We are so vulnerable here, unable to defend ourselves. Mr. Robinson, the Police Magistrate, and his policemen would be easily overcome, and Captain Lavaud on his ship would be of limited assistance in a land battle. Plus they say the Maoris intend to overrun and capture his vessel, hence the fleet of whaleboats. None of our men have been working far from home, I am pleased to say. But we have nowhere to barricade ourselves, should the need arise, and could simply be picked off one by one. Our houses could be torched. Oh, why did we come here, Maman? Why? Why? It’s not just Claude and me now. It’s our poor little one, also. And the one in my womb.

  Pray for us, Maman!

  Ever yours,

  Bibi

  The day prior to leaving, Sue rang Russell at the museum shortly before closing time.

  ‘You just caught me, darling,’ Russell chirped. ‘Can we anticipate a visit? Guy has been asking after you, the sycophant. It seems you made quite a splash in his otherwise oh-so-boring pond.’

  ‘Well, I am irresistible.’

  ‘I wish some of it would rub off.’

  ‘That bad?’

  ‘Sometimes. Anyway, let’s talk about you. Will we see you before you go?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. We’re off tomorrow.’ Sue heard the front door open and Ben’s step in the hall. ‘That’s why I’m ringing. To say au revoir.’ Ben followed Sue’s voice to the kitchen. ‘I’ll send you a postcard. From La Rochelle. And take lots of photos.’ Sue paused, listening, a smile on her face. Ben was casting quick glances in her direction. ‘Love to you, too, darling. Bye, Russell.’ She ended the call and replaced the phone in its stand.