by Greg Scowen
‘That would be hard to fluke. When was it built?’
‘Wait a sec.’ Shuffling of paper from his left. ‘Oh. No-one’s sure, but they reckon it was completed about 1865. Bishop Thomas Herangi, guardian of the Crosshouse up until the 1980’s, cited evidence of the star temple having been built in 1682, with renovations occurring in 1788 and 1887.’
‘Uhuh.’
‘Bugger.’ Aimee changed the subject. ‘This is Atiamuri junction. We’ve gotta turn left here and soon we turn back on 30 again, to Benneydale.’
‘Got it,’ Matt said, turning left at the T-junction they had just arrived at.
‘It’s probable,’ she switched back without pause, ‘that the winter solstice sunrise and the summer solstice sunset were observed from the centre pole or secondary poles through the open doorways. It’s also highly likely that the northern-most lunar standstill rise and the southern-most lunar standstill set could be observed through the elevated windows, with the observer seated to the front or side of the centre pole.’
‘That’s getting complex,’ Matt said.
‘The Crosshouse was described as a place for conducting the rites as in old times. The mathematical attributes of the Crosshouse show us very clearly what many of those rites were. Maths also shows how these traditions replicate the astronomical and navigational knowledge of the great civilisations of the Northern Hemisphere. The knowledge coded into the Crosshouse at Miringa Te Kakara has a direct pedigree back to Egypt, Great Britain and North America.’
‘It’ll be interesting to see if my compass can confirm any of that. I wonder where the Maori folk that built this house got such knowledge. Did they stumble upon the same lunar charting as other great civilizations by chance?’
‘You mean like what Jung called the collective unconscious?’
‘Exactly.’
Twenty-five minutes later, they left the car at a farmhouse near the settlement of Tiroa and made their way on foot to the remains of the Crosshouse. There was really nothing left except for the clear footprint of the building. Matt pulled out his pocket GPS receiver and set it to compass mode.
‘The website is right, you know, the axis of this wing is directly along the solstice. That is really interesting.’ Matt stared at the figures on his screen.
‘The website goes on to dissect the dimensions of the building in excruciating details, Matt. Do you want to see them?’
‘I have to admit I’m intrigued, but what does it all prove? We can only speculate where the knowledge to build this came from. Even the website agrees that these sorts of measurements were used by a multitude of civilisations.’
‘They apparently have a lot of correlations with the measurements made in Rennes-le-Chateau,’ Aimee added.
‘That’s more Warren’s sort of thing. Fascinating as it is, I don’t know enough to go much beyond being curious. It would be damned interesting to have some real research done here though. I wonder if that DCI mob would ever let it happen.’
‘I don’t think the DCI would have anything against looking into this,’ Aimee said. ‘They probably just don’t have the time or resources to follow up every theory touted online.’
‘Fair enough too.’ Matt agreed. ‘I don’t have the time or resources either. You need a lot of equipment and specialists in all sorts of fields to get to the bottom of this. If the DCI can’t manage it, then I’m far from being the right man for the job. Shall we go then?’
‘Yes. I’ve seen enough. Much more interested in getting to the bottom of the Spanish stuff anyway.’
Back at the car, Matt suggested that they best find somewhere for the night. It was getting on in the afternoon and he didn’t want to wear anyone out. Besides, they were still a solid number of hours drive from Wellington because they weren’t on the main road.
‘Go back to the direction of Te Kuiti,’ Aimee said. ‘I know a place a couple hours south of here. I think you might like it.’
Aimee was right. As Matt manoeuvred the car out of the forest and saw the Grand Chateau hotel emerge in front of him, he immediately approved of her choice. The hotel was a commanding structure resting up on the hillside in front of them. To their left lay a sweeping golf course. Behind the hotel was a smattering of more forests, towered over by a beautiful mountainscape. You didn’t get scenery like this in the UK.
Matt parked the car and walked up the drive to the hotel entrance with his suitcase and Aimee in tow. His eyes were fixed on a volcanic cone in the distance.
‘That mountain looks so familiar,’ he said.
‘Mt Ngauruhoe.’ Aimee smiled at him. ‘But you might know it as Mt. Doom of Lord of the Rings.’
That was it, of course. Matt was almost embarrassed to have recognised it. He hoped that Aimee didn’t think he was a hopeless geek.
‘And that one behind the hotel is Ruapehu. It erupted a bit back in 1996 and practically destroyed the ski season up there at Whakapapa.’
‘Fuck a what?’ Matt asked.
‘Whak-a-papa.’ Aimee drew it out, causing Matt to cringe and Aimee to giggle. ‘It’s spelt W-H-A-K at the beginning, just like Whakatane. The Maori pronunciation is like... fuck. So yes, it sounds like fuck a papa.’
‘These Maori place names keep getting more offensive,’ Matt said. He hoped his smile would show Aimee he was teasing.
They checked in at the hotel in two separate rooms and walked through an awkward void of words to the stairs in the lobby. Aimee broke the silence.
‘Shall we meet for dinner?’ she asked.
‘Would love to,’ Matt said. ‘See you back here in an hour?
It was agreed. Matt and Aimee climbed the stairs to their respective adjoining rooms. Matt discovered his suitcase already laid out on a little stand in the room. He grabbed some fresh clothes and took a white towel off the bed and made for the shower. He was out to make a good impression.
* * *
It had been a long day, and the last thing Hemi was worried about as he flopped down on the cheap motel room bed, was the insects flying and crawling around the room. He even dismissed the orange curtains and dingy old bed-spread. Who has polyester bed-spreads these days? It was a wonder a dump like this could do business.
Hemi’s business of the day had been more monotonous following and watching. He had watched them leave the Kingsbridge residence. He had followed them through the country-side. As he put his hometown and the memories further and further behind him, he realised he wouldn’t be able to keep an eye on Warren Rennie anymore. But he could deal with him later. He thought it would get interesting when they pulled off onto some small country roads but he didn’t see the attraction of the farm where they stopped, despite their incessant babbling about the old Whare Wananga. Hemi put in a call to Warren.
‘I’m in the North Manuatu, on a farm where there used to be some old Maori School. I thought we were worried about these folk looking into the wrong kind of history. But I don’t see how this can be threatening.’
‘Are you just off state highway 30 by chance?’
‘Yeah. How’d you know?’
‘That’s the site of the Crosshouse of Miringa Te Kakara. It’s a site sometimes discussed by Celtic theorists because the building displayed indications of having been influenced by the heavens. Solar and lunar rises, and all that.’
‘But there’s nothing here.’
‘It was burned down in the Eighties.’
‘So not much of a threat then.’
‘Not at all. I sent them there, it’s Celtic. But it can’t have taken you two days to get there. Where else have you been?’
Hemi had already planned a story for this.
‘They stopped for a night at Taupo. They went and had a look at some sights there too.’
‘The Kaimanawa Wall?’
‘Yeah,’ Hemi said. He knew that this would please Warren. The Kaimanawa Wall was a collection of stones that appeared to be a man-made wall dating back thousands of years, at least if you were into those sorts of craz
y theories.
‘That’s great,’ Warren said, bringing a smile to Hemi’s face. ‘Matt will see the potential of the wall being from the Celts too.’
‘Maybe, yeah.’
‘Which might just stop him from wasting his time going to Wellington.’
‘I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure they’re heading there in the morning.’
‘You know what you’ve got to do then.’
‘What?’
‘Stop them. If not before they get to Wellington, at least do something to scare them off the Spanish trail once they get there. Give them a fright somehow.’
‘I’ll see what I can do. I’ve got to go. They’re coming back my way.’
Hemi had hung up the phone before he got any angrier.
As the trip left the Crosshouse, Hemi had followed them to the Grand Chateau hotel. He admired Aimee from a distance as they entered the hotel. Perhaps a girl like her could persuade him to rethink the single life. Snap out of it Hemi, he thought. She’s probably changed a lot. You aren’t a schoolboy any more.
Before driving back down the mountain in search of some lower budget accommodation, Hemi took a drive up to the ski resort at Whakapapa. If he was in the area, he might as well have a look around. Not a lot to see though. In summer everything was well locked up and there was no one about. He had turned back down the mountain and driven past the Grand Chateau, settling for a cheap motel nearby, to wait. Hemi always waited, and waiting was what he was doing now. He set his mobile phone alarm for six in the morning. The early bird catches the worm, that’s what his father said. He closed his eyes and let his back sink into the soft bed. A spring prodded at his back as he imagined what it was like for his ancestors, sitting in a Whare Wananga, and learning of things that have since been lost. As he sank deeper into his imaginings, he sank deep into a much-needed sleep.
CHAPTER
25
Matt walked in circles around the huge billiards table. Pacing calmed his nerves. Or maybe not, but it gave him something to do. He was early. It was difficult to know whether he was better off being early or making a big entrance. But to make a big entrance you had to be late, and that didn’t look good, did it? In Switzerland, when he studied there, he learnt to never be late. The Swiss are very particular about punctuality. When the train didn’t arrive on time, people started tapping their watches. Surely their watch was broken; the trains always ran on time. Aimee descended the staircase on time too. Sublime. Matt couldn’t take his eyes off her. She floated lower and lower as if her feet weren’t even touching the ground. Matt couldn’t find a breath. He hadn’t seen her in a dress before.
‘You look stunning,’ he greeted her, self-consciously brushing his hands down his beige pants. ‘I hope you haven’t dressed up for me.’
Liar.
‘It’s just such a nice place, I had to do it.’
‘Where did you get the dress though? I mean, your tiny suitcase.’
‘I told you I have a month’s worth in there.’
‘I’ll never doubt you again. You obviously have packing skills beyond my comprehension.’
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Aimee laughed. ‘Plenty of men can’t pack to save themselves.’
Matt laughed and reached out his arm in a half-mocking, fully-hopeful gesture and was relieved when Aimee took it. She felt perfect on his arm. She smelt wonderful. She looked beautiful. The royal blue dress accentuated her eyes in a dangerous way. He filled with pride as he escorted her into the Ruapehu restaurant. A smartly dressed waiter seated them at a smartly laid table. The decor was classical. Had Aimee planned her visit here? Her dress fit in perfectly. Matt felt a little underdressed, but he was seated with the most beautiful woman in the room. Nothing else mattered. They enjoyed a good meal and chatted amiably the whole way through. Conversation remained fairly light, centering on their plans for the next few days. Dinner was finished far too soon. Matt looked at his watch as he waited for his change. Way too early.
‘Would you like to go for a stroll around the golf course?’ he asked, feeling his cheeks warm a little.
‘You challenging me to a game?’
His cheeks warmed some more.
‘I’m just kidding,’ she said. ‘I’d love to go for a walk.’
The air outside was refreshingly cool. Not too cold, but no longer sticky or humid. Matt preferred this weather to that in Auckland, and besides, it was the perfect opportunity to make a romantic gesture. You know, give her his jacket or something.
‘Does New Zealand remind you of England at all?’ Aimee asked, before he had decided what the gesture should be.
‘The scenery?’
‘Yeah, or the food, the language - I don’t know - just generally?’
‘The food does. Restaurants here are almost like Rose’s home cooking. Not up to her quality though.’
‘Rose, is that your girlfriend?’
Matt looked at Aimee and laughed.
‘No, Rose is in her seventies. That’s beyond even my desperation, Rose is my landlady.’
‘What do you mean by desperation? I assumed you had a girlfriend, maybe even Julia.’
‘Julia!? Don’t be daft, we’ve been best friends for years, it would be utterly wrong and she’s far from my type.’
‘I’m sure she’s very fond of you.’
Now Matt knew he was blushing. Similar accusations had been made before.
‘I’m not interested in Julia though,’ Matt said, maybe a little too defensively. His next words surprised even himself. ‘You, however... well.’
Aimee spun around and faced him, her face covered in shock.
‘What?’ she asked.
‘I think that you’re very nice.’
Oh, Matt, that was just bloody weak.
‘Are you serious?’ Aimee looked at him with an expression he couldn’t read. Matt knew he had to go on. The next few minutes would make or break this. Either he would have said his bit and Aimee accepts it, or she goes home and he has to continue the rest of the journey alone with his tail between his legs.
‘To be honest, I’ve never met a woman like you before. One who makes me feel so good. One who makes me relax and at the same time seems relaxed around me.’
‘I’m relaxed around you,’ she said. ‘But you wouldn’t like me if you knew me better.’
‘I’d like the chance to determine that for myself.’
‘I don’t want to disappoint you.’
‘How could you disappoint me?’
‘It’s such a lot to explain.’
‘I have all night, all week, my whole life.’
Aimee turned and looked at him. He could see the emotion in her eyes. It looked like she was hurting. Was he doing this to her? God, he hoped he wasn’t.
‘Do you want to sit down?’ he asked, looking around and seeing no seats. Aimee nodded and also turned to look about. Matt saw his cue, this was better than offering her his jacket. He took it off, and spread it out on the ground.
‘Wow, you’re serious about this, aren’t you?’ She asked him, smiling broadly.
‘I am.’
They sat down closely together so they could both fit on their tiny makeshift blanket. The cool air enveloped them, but neither of them grew too cold.
‘I’m no good at relationships,’ Aimee said. ‘The only one I had turned out disastrously.’
‘Can I ask what happened?’
‘It was a car crash.’
‘What?’ Matt recoiled.
‘We met in a car crash. I had just moved to Auckland for uni and a truck clipped the back of my car one morning. I got out all prepared to scream down the driver, and fell in love instead.’
‘Oh, thank God. I thought you meant he died in an accident.’
‘No. He was a trucker. Actually, his Dad owned a freight company and Russell kept it in the family.’
‘Tell me about him. At least then I can avoid his mistakes.’
They talked for more than two hours. In that t
ime, the sun completely set and they could scarcely see each other. The hotel glistened somewhere behind Matt, and the lights reflected in Aimee’s eyes. Occasionally, as Aimee told Matt about her long relationship, which ended a couple of years earlier, the glistening of the lights travelled down her cheeks in a tear. Matthew had to fight himself to not reach over and wipe the tears away. She opened herself up to him. He didn’t want to overstep an unknown boundary and cause her to close up.
‘A week before the wedding, I discovered the rumours were true. He really did have a bird in every town up and down the country.’
‘So how did Emma know before you did?’ Matt was worried he knew the answer already.
‘She was one of them.’
‘Ouch, some bridesmaid.’
‘Tell me about it.’
‘Thanks for telling me about it. I mean, I understand how a relationship like that could make you cautious. But you deserve happiness, and shouldn’t let one bad experience deny you that happiness. There are plenty of men in the world who would never treat you the way he did.’
‘And you’re one of those men?’ Aimee asked, smiling.
‘I’d like to be given the chance.’
The silence lasted an eternity. Longer. Matt didn’t break it though, he waited patiently for her to gather her thoughts. He could hear his heart beating. Could she?
‘I don’t know, Matthew.’ Her voice was no more than a whisper. ‘I like you too. Honestly.’
‘But?’
Matt heard all the lines going through his head. I just think of you as a friend. He had heard that one before. You’re just too nice for me. Blah blah.
‘I need time. I need to think about this. Can you give me some time?’
Matt just about jumped up on the spot to dance a little jig. Are you kidding? This was better than any response he had imagined to a situation like this. It was beyond his wildest dreams. She was going to actually consider it!
He smiled at her warmly. ‘Take all the time you need. I’ll be here.’
‘Thanks Matt.’ She returned his smile. ‘Shall we head back?’
He stood and reached down to help her up. For the second time that evening, Aimee and Matthew were connected. As she took his hand, electric shocks ran through his body. Matt had never felt like this before. He wanted the night to last forever. He wanted to hold her forever. She walked back to the hotel holding his hand the whole way. He floated. As they said goodnight, Aimee leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek, thanking him for being so understanding. It might never be washed again. He told her he would sit in the lounge bar for a while, and watched her ascend the stairs as gracefully as she had arrived. When she disappeared out of sight, he walked out of the hotel and across the ever-cooling golf course. It took him forever to find his jacket.