All Saints: Love and Intrigue in the Stunning New Zealand Wilderness (The New Zealand Soccer Referee Series Book 1)

by K T Bowes

  “What’s wrong with him?” Teina asked, stepping closer. He peered over my shoulder at the fitful child and his brown eyes narrowed.

  “We thought it was a stomach upset,” I confessed, glancing at the newspaper covering the mopped space where the child vomited a few minutes earlier. “But I think it’s more serious; appendicitis maybe.”

  “Is someone coming for him?” Teina asked with concern in his voice.

  “I hope so.” I shrugged. “His aunty looks after him but she’s got six of her own. She works on the North Shore and does her best.”

  Helen poked her face around the classroom door. “I’m still getting voicemail from that other number,” she said, glancing at Lawrie. “I’m not sure what to do. What do you think?”

  I stood, hoisting the tiny boy in my arms with a grunt of pain. For such a big personality Lawrie seemed so frail and I clutched him closer. “I’ll take him to the hospital in a taxi. This doesn’t feel right. Tell Vanessa I’m sorry and send my class in with the Year 2s.”

  “How will you pay for a taxi? Do you have cash?”

  I shook my head but having made the decision, stuck to it. “I’ll work it out somehow. They might take a card. Tell his aunty what’s happened and maybe grab her other children at the end of the day and put them in the after-school club.”

  Helen shook her head. “They won’t take them, Ursula. She still owes them for last time.”

  “Tell them I’ll pay!” I snapped. “Make them understand; she can’t be in two places at once.”

  Helen’s head disappeared and I bobbed down to collect my handbag from the bottom drawer of my desk, upending it in my efforts not to make Lawrie’s body heave out another pitiful wail. Teina’s fingers touched mine as he righted it and shoved fallen objects back into its copious folds. “I’ll drive you,” he said, his brown eyes soft as he looked at the stricken child in my arms.

  He went ahead of me through the corridors to the front gate and I followed, my eyes straying to the neat bum encased in police issue blue trousers. The uniform made him seem even more capable as he held doors open for me and waited as I ducked under his arm. Once he brushed my shoulder with his fingers and I sensed something spark within my gut at his touch. I hardened my resolve; he’d lied about his chosen career and I’d grown tired of being a victim of my own bad choices.

  Teina’s torso looked stockier with the stab-resistant vest encasing his muscles. The tools hanging around his waist and from the wide pockets seemed to accentuate the width of him, making me crave a hug from the powerful biceps. I hugged the floppy child to my chest and followed Teina through the front gate, baulking at the sight of the police car in the visitors’ car park. “Sit in the back,” he said, authority in his tone. He held the rear door open and leaned across me, belting me in and allowing Lawrie to perch on my knee.

  “Something’s wrong!” I leaned down and listened at the tiny, snatched breaths coming from the small mouth and panicked. Teina put a finger under Lawrie’s jaw and nodded, measuring the heart beats in his head.

  “He’s got a slow pulse. I’ll use the sirens and call ahead.” He slammed the door and Lawrie moaned and flapped his hands.

  “We should have called an ambulance,” I said, my voice breaking. “This is my fault.”

  “They’re backed up,” Teina called over his shoulder. “An accident on the motorway sent eight of them there half an hour ago.” He started the engine and cranked the gear stick into reverse. He put his left arm around the headrest of the passenger seat and looked over his shoulder as the powerful car moved backwards. My eyes raked his face for help as my bottom lip wobbled in misery and Teina gave me a look of pure kindness, his brown eyes soft and filled with compassion. “It’ll be ok, babe,” he said. He dropped his hand and squeezed my knee, offering companionship and consolation.

  The vehicle thrummed beneath my bum as the Holden took off, wheels squealing on the turn onto the main road. I saw the blue and red lights flash their reflection in the windows of shops and parked cars as the police car travelled at speed, calling out its screeched warning. Other vehicles pulled out of the way and we cruised through, navigating red traffic lights and dangerous junctions. Teina used his radio to speak to the control room and the operator confirmed she’d warned the emergency room at Auckland General hospital of our imminent arrival.

  The traffic warden raised his eyebrows as Teina shunted the car into a narrow parking space outside the emergency room doors. The man moved on to find other unwitting victims, not wanting to tangle with a cop. Oblivious, Teina killed the engine and dashed to the curbside to open my door. Lawrie woke and muttered my name as we hustled through the automatic doors and I forced a bright smile onto my face and kissed his forehead. “It’s ok, Lawrie,” I promised. “We just had a little ride in a police car, sweetheart. You’ll be all better soon.”

  “Bet soon,” he repeated, his voice slow and hushed. “Bet soon, Saint.”

  I felt my heart clench. A nurse met us half way across the waiting room and Teina’s uniform gained us immediate entry to the inner sanctum and medical help. I described Lawrie’s symptoms and explained my fear that this was something more. I pointed out the site of his pain and suggested appendicitis, willing the nurse to fetch someone more senior and act with greater urgency than she appeared to possess.

  I held my breath as sharp needles pierced veins I couldn’t see and Lawrie slipped into a deep unconsciousness. I fretted and worried and the nurse sent me outside the curtain as the doctor arrived. Teina leaned against the wall, his thumbs wedged into the bottom pockets of his vest as I’d seen other policemen do and he watched me through calm, brown eyes as I paced and gnawed on my thumbnail. “Why didn’t I do something sooner?” I wrangled, blaming myself. Teina’s fringe flipped into his eyes and I fought the urge to push it backwards on his head and savour the silky tendrils against my skin.

  Waiting for him to say something seemed to make my anxiety worse and I jumped and grabbed my side as a male nurse touched my arm. The pain radiated through the broken bones and sent electrical pulses into my spine. “There’s a kitchen around the corner,” the nurse said, his voice soothing. I focussed on the kindness in his eyes as I blinked and tried to listen to his words amidst my clanging panic. “Get a coffee,” he urged. “They’ll be checking the wee man out for a while. You’ve got a few minutes.”

  I nodded and followed the direction of his pointing finger, surprised to hear Teina’s shoes tapping the floor tiles behind me as he kept pace. Anger flared in my chest and I darted into the tiny kitchenette and tried to slam the door in his face. “You’re making me look like a bloody pedophile!” I hissed as he stopped it with his foot.

  “How’d you work that out?” His eyes widened, matching the look of astonishment on his face.

  I put my hands on my hips and postured, no longer able to work out how I came to the bizarre conclusion, rummaging in my vocabulary for possible solutions. “Well! Well!” I managed and Teina smirked and closed the door with his heel. I backed up until the counter pressed into my back and he stepped towards me until I could feel his breath on my cheek. I used the heel of my hand to halt his progress and the sharp angles of his vest felt rigid beneath my flesh. “I brought a comatose child onto an emergency ward and now I’m being followed around by a policeman!” I flushed with embarrassment from chest to neck. The heat spread into the underside of my jaw.

  “Idiot!” he snuffed and put his large hands either side of my face. “You’re a complete nut job, ya know that?”

  “And you’re clearly not a lawyer!” I left the barb in my voice and Teina tipped his head to one side, studying me with concentration and something I couldn’t read.

  “I work in law enforcement,” he offered, his inner amusement making my hand itch to slap his smug face. “I never claimed to be a lawyer. I didn’t lie to you.”

  “You wouldn’t know the truth if it bit you!” I snorted, realising I’d spun my own fantasy around him. I glanced at the do
or behind him and felt a tug in my breast, connecting me to Lawrie and knowing through instinct he was having a meltdown. “I need to go.” I gave the solid chest a shove and heard the radio cackle. Teina glanced down at it and then back at me.

  “This isn’t over,” he whispered, running his thumb over my bottom lip. “We’re gonna talk, whether you want to or not.”

  “Not!” I said and blanched as the kitchen door opened and a face pushed its way through. I swallowed and gave a watery smile to the tired, grey complexion being worn by a woman in her mid -thirties.

  “Is there coffee?” she asked, bouncing a baby on her hip and I nodded and moved aside in the small space.

  Teina dropped his hands to my neck and bent down to press his lips over mine. The radio chattered again on his chest and he pulled the curly cable from behind his back and shoved the earpiece in, his other hand lingering on my shoulder. Giving his call sign, he lowered his lips to the black receiver and spoke to the controller. “Yeah, I’m five minutes away; show me responding.”

  I watched the generous proportions of his body as he winked at the baby on the newcomer’s hip and turned away from me. My heart pounded in my breast and the woman clunked polystyrene cups and dug a spoon into the coffee. “Lucky lady,” she said, her expression wistful as she glanced at Teina’s retreating back. “Half your luck.”

  The child let out a miserable wail and rubbed his eyes. I noticed then the deformed legs which wrapped around his mother’s body and the way he keened with his head on one side. “I know, I know, baby,” she crooned, rubbing his shoulder and kissing the tear streaked cheek. The woman looked exhausted but the love in her face overrode any other external factor; trumping her rumpled clothing and lank, unkempt hair. Everything she wanted nestled in her arms.

  “Good luck,” I whispered and touched her sleeve, sending sparks of compassion through my fingers and praying she understood.

  “Thanks. You don’t need any though.” She grinned, her eyes glittering. “He’s hot and obviously has it bad for you. Hold onto him or there’s plenty will have ‘im off ya.”

  I nodded and made my way around the nurses’ station and found Lawrie’s cubicle, working by sound alone. His hysteria projected through the curtains, the familiar wail deafening the closer I got. I burst through the fabric to find a nurse trying to settle the small boy with a back rub, her torso leant across him, obscuring him from my view. His whole body juddered and shook and I recognised an adult in trouble as the nurse appealed to me with her eyes. “I don’t understand what he wants,” she said, rising and letting go of the thrashing hand in her grasp. She turned, so her back screened Lawrie from her confession. “He’s saying something over and over and I can’t catch the words.”

  “It’s ok.” I passed her, approaching the bed with trepidation in my heart. “Lawrie.” I said his name and stroked the hot cheek, feeling the atmosphere change as he recognised me and held his breath. “You’re safe, buddy,” I said, squatting next to the bed.

  The child’s chest hitched and tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes. “I yop mane,” he cried, his voice rising. The nurse widened her eyes and I used my sleeve to brush the tears away from his cheeks.

  “I know you have, Lawrie,” I said, lowering my voice. “This lovely nurse knows you’ve got a pain, baby. She’s trying to fix it. Will you give her a chance?”

  “A yance,” he repeated, his blue eyes wide with terror. Trying to put his arm around my neck, the action met with resistance as the cannula in his tiny vein pulled taut and caused him pain. Lawrie let out a wail and I stood, slipping onto the bed next to him and hoisting him into my lap. The tube of fluid and antibiotic relaxed and he crumpled against my shoulder like a floppy newborn. My ribs tugged at the healing break and took my breath away for a moment.

  “All better soon,” I whispered and held him, feeling the knotty bones through his hospital gown. I closed my eyes, leaned back against the pillows and settled, hearing the boy’s sigh of relief as he snuffed a few times and then stilled.

  The nurse smiled and nodded. I heard her leave and paced my breathing to Lawrie’s, feeling the soporific effects of nurturing as we both drifted off to sleep. I woke as the orderly took the brake off the bed, ready to move Lawrie to pediatrics. The child slumbered on and I laid him on the pillows with care as the nurse smiled with appreciation. “His aunty’s here now,” she whispered. “She’s waiting in the children’s ward. It’s appendicitis and he’s next on the list for surgery.”

  “I should probably leave then,” I said, reaching for my bag.

  The nurse shrugged and they waited long enough for me to kiss Lawrie’s forehead, before winding him away through the corridors to the children’s ward.

  Chapter 37

  The world outside the hospital seemed dark and empty as I sat on a bench with nowhere to go. School ended two hours ago and the world had slipped into its usual routine without caring about the fate of one more small child in agony. I’d wrestled with Lawrie since the beginning of the school year, knowing something didn’t add up but powerless to help him. He wasn’t willful or disruptive as the notes from his kindy claimed, once they eventually turned up. I’d looked into his wide blue eyes and seen a private hell, made up of sentences he didn’t understand but repeated as though he did. Lawrie Hopu was afraid and I regretted my inability to help him. He’d spent ten weeks in my class being shepherded from activity to activity by Helen or me, perhaps even seen the inward sighs we took to master control of our irritation with the system which failed him and felt the sting of our combined dejection. Guilt pricked at my soul and I felt the urge to run. Nowhere. Anywhere. I resented the heartlessness of this big city with its shiny buildings and no compassion.

  The taxi dropped me near the cemetery and I risked my credit card in his portable machine for the sake of a ride across the harbour bridge. I wondered about my car, resting in the parking garage at the apartment and wondered how long before the police detective confiscated it. The excitement of ownership paled against the guilt of knowing how Terry paid for it. I wondered if it made me complicit, the energy to deal with the mental logistics defeating me in my weakened state.

  “Hi, Mum.” I scooped a dandelion from the grass next to her grave and laid it where I figured her head would be if she were still inside. The alternatives filled me with misery and I shook them away. “I’ve stuffed up big time,” I confessed, leaning my back against the corner of her headstone and crossing my legs. “How do I come back from this? It’s a worse mess than a gay husband leaving me with a lorry load of debt.” I spotted a daisy in the glow from the setting sun and picked it, leaving the stem as long as I could. Another and another blinked at me with upturned faces and I snagged them all, piercing their green spokes and threading one through another. “I met this guy,” I said, concentrating on my task. “He’s everything I ever wanted; strong, silent, wise and good looking. You’d like him. I wish I’d met him ten years ago because my life might’ve been real different.” I snuffed out a laugh of regret. “Na, I probably would’ve messed it up somehow and I’d be sitting here divorced instead of just widowed and single.”

  Jack’s face wafted across my inner vision and I cringed. “You’ll never guess what,” I added, fixing the daisies together in a continuous line. “Jack loved me; seems he always did. He said Dad threatened him but I guess you knew about that.” I pursed my lips, wondering if she had, or whether she’d been as clueless as me when he chose Lacey as his ball partner. I preferred to believe the latter.

  “I wish you could see me now, Mum. I’ve lost so much weight in the last five years, Aunty Pam says I look like you when you were thirty. In ten more years I’ll be forty and it’s gonna be weird because you never went there ahead of me, did you? I’ll be something you never were.” It made my heart ache that she didn’t get to see the last of my teen years, fading out before I’d finished growing my breasts or learned to let my dark curls do what they wanted instead of taming them beneath clips and pony
tails. I imagined her wandering the halls of heaven, searching for a fat girl with curly bunches and the sob caught in my throat. “Don’t look for me anymore, Mum,” I begged. “I don’t think I’ll be coming. I had sex with a stranger an hour after meeting him and knew nothing about him. I don’t know where he lives or what his hobbies are.” Foolishness enveloped me. Nothing I’d said mattered against the thought of Teina’s arms enfolding me and the feel of his lips on my cheek. I sniffed. “I’m nothing special, Mum. You thought I was but I’m the same as all the other girls in this world. I know you’d be ashamed of me. I kinda wish you were here so you could tell me off and show me how disappointed you are. I feel like I need to be punished by someone who cares. The cops will be doing it soon enough.”

  I completed my daisy chain and hung it on the headstone. With the waning of the sun, the tiny buds closed their faces against my cruelty and hid their yellow beneath the tight, white petals. “Dad’s up shit creek without a paddle, Mum. He won’t be in heaven either at this rate.” I worried at my lower lip as I contemplated his many misdeeds and sighed, unable to confess to my mother about his indiscretion with May-Ling or his possible involvement in the gambling scam. She’d loved my foolish old man and part of me wanted to leave her with the illusion of his invincibility. He’d cross the finish line soon enough and by then she’d know the sum of his life by his destination.

  I stroked the dry earth and felt the heat of the day leave the crumbly soil as evening descended around me. “I don’t think I want to be a teacher anymore,” I whispered. “The joy went out of it today when I realised I couldn’t help this little boy with his behaviour and he deserves so much better. What’s the point of being on the front line when you can’t help anyone?” I shook my head and prayed Lawrie’s pain would disappear and someone far better than me would dish out a fairer education in future. “I’ll quit and then pay for him to see an educational psychologist,” I promised, as much to myself as to my mother.