by Bowes, K T
Life in Invercargill was evening out for Izzie and her pastor husband because the officious elderly ladies of the parish had started to help, rather than hinder. Unsurprisingly they had fallen in love with vivacious Izzie and her beautiful daughter, enfolding them in a possessive embrace with babysitting, knitting and freshly cooked meals, whether wanted or not. Hana complimented herself on the fact that Izzie was far too well bred to reject their attentions, but would enjoy all the support with her usual broad smile and sense of optimism. Thankfully forgotten were the recent tears of dismay and difficulty, replaced with laughter and hilarious tales about the mothers’ group that Izzie had been press ganged into starting and the antics of the toddlers. Hana was thrilled her precious daughter was happy, but missed her dreadfully.
The row with Logan left a bitter taste in her mouth and a sick feeling somewhere inside her chest. Hana went sadly to bed that night. “You’re too old for all this drama, girl. I think it’s best if you stay on your own,” she told herself.
Chapter 26
The next morning Hana braved the bus service from Flagstaff to work. The Orbiter down to Maui Street was full to bursting with students from different schools and workers from the outer suburbs, mixing and mingling in a haze of muffled iPod music and the sound of texting. It was standing room only, but a Year 13 from school recognised her and politely offered her his seat. Hana thanked him and sat down gratefully, avoiding a large rip in the seat material. Her high heels would have been ineffective against the slippery, metallic bus floor and the jerking and swaying of vehicle and bodies.
Once sat, Hana struggled not to feel so disagreeable about the school bags whacking her in the face and the elderly gentleman next to her, who leaned heavily into her as the bus swayed around. Hana emerged thankfully from the bus, coughing from the haze of boy sweat and veiled cigarette smoke. I have to sort something out about transport soon.
Walking into the main entrance she was disconcerted to see Logan’s truck still where she’d left it the day before, the windows misted up as though it had been there all night. I am going to kill Peter North!
Pete wasn’t at his desk when Hana reached the office, which was maybe just as well. Logan was going to be even more annoyed than he was yesterday at the thought that she had abandoned his truck carelessly in one of the most theft prone parts of town overnight. He was probably never going to speak to her again. It wasn’t just the fact she didn’t want friction in her working environment if they were to be at odds with each other, it was her inner self that was troubled by the perception she had failed to take care of someone else’s property. It was how it looked that annoyed her.
Hana clumped around starting up her computer and checking the bulletin for the day’s events. Glancing down at the paper, she spotted a notice near the bottom, ‘New Zealand Police will be visiting the common room today at 12.45, lunchtime. Students interested in speaking to them about a police career should attend. All year groups welcome.’
Hana went into her computer calendar straight away as dread mounted. The police weren’t coming until next week, she was sure of it. There it was, clearly on the spreadsheet. She searched her desk for the final possibility, maybe a note from Sheila explaining the date change but there was nothing. Oh dear. Someone had got something wrong. She only hoped it wasn’t her. Hana readied herself for the fireworks as Sheila came back from the morning staff briefing.
“What’s the matter with this place?” she stormed, instantly her feet touched the carpet inside the office. “The police visit is next week! Now I’ve got Watson whining at me…” she did an entertaining but not very accurate impression of Donald Watson moaning, although the voice was a few octaves too high and a little squeaky, “I’ve already got the common room booked for a meeting then and I can’t change it blah blah blah.”
Sheila huffed and puffed and repeated the process Hana had already been through, checking and rechecking, finally coming across her email to Anka asking for it to be put into the notices for the correct date. Either Anka had made a mistake, understandable under the circumstances, or someone else was trying to salvage her abandoned workload. As Sheila disappeared to undo the damage currently being done in the twenty or so classes around the school, where the bulletin was at that very moment being read out in tutor groups, Peter North slouched in. “I’ve got a bone to pick with you!” Hana uncharacteristically started on him, “How come you didn’t give the keys to Logan?”
North looked sheepish and dug around in his pocket, pulling out the offending keys now covered in pocket fluff. The key ring, which had formerly had a little wooden kiwi dangling from it was now absent the kiwi. Hana took a deep breath and gritted her teeth, holding out her hand for the keys, then regretting it as she was also given the fluff. She didn’t trust herself to say anything else so set off towards the rear door and the back stairs which led to the art rooms, carrying a colourful university poster which she intended to give to the head of art. Halfway down the stairwell, it suddenly occurred to Hana that she might have picked up the wrong poster in her temper and as it would be silly to display an advert for physics degrees in the art room, she decided to unroll it.
The stairs were not a sensible place to unroll a flimsy poster, especially as the tutor groups were almost over and once the bell rang it would be every boy and woman for themselves.
Going down to the next level, Hana let herself into the stock room midway between floors. Momentarily reminded of an accidental visit to this same cupboard, which had effectively destroyed her relationships with Anka and Logan, Hana rolled the poster onto the floorboards. A partially clad Māori gentleman peered up at her from the paper brandishing a Te Rakau, his olive face tattooed around the chin and neck denoting his genealogical whakapapa and his pink tongue revealed in challenge. Not much good for physics or art but the head of Māori language would be thrilled with him, especially as he bore an uncanny likeness to one of her students a couple of years ago. Hana gently rolled the picture back up and stood to leave, fiddling with the elastic band that refused to go back on easily.
The door was partly open and a shadow fell unexpectedly across it making her jump. Logan Du Rose stood in the doorway biting his lower lip and looking decidedly awkward. There was a long moment of silence. Hana broke it by muttering an embarrassed, “Excuse me,” and preparing to go past him, the poster pinging out of its band and unrolling itself about her legs.
Logan put out his arm and blocked her way, “Can we talk?”
“I don’t think I have anything to add to your monologue yesterday, thanks.” Hana didn’t feel like talking. She had acknowledged to herself in the middle of the night that she was better off on her own. She felt uncomfortable at having almost becoming entangled in a relationship with a colleague. The fact she liked Logan hugely, that her heart skipped when she saw him even across the room, was crushed and squashed within her as she tried to make an excuse not to stay in such close proximity to him now. His shirt was crisp and clean against his lovely olive skin and as he withdrew his arm again, she noticed he wore cufflinks. She hadn’t noticed that before. It was an attention to detail; that he fiddled around with cufflinks each morning instead of simply doing up a button, which made him even more endearing, but Hana fought it desperately.
In the miniscule space between them, Hana caught a hint of his aftershave; a gorgeous musky smell and she remembered what it felt like to sit on the steps of her house with his arm around her, enfolded in his clean linen scent. She closed her eyes and her expression was one of distress as she battled with herself. She heard the door click gently as it touched the doorframe and sensing the room darken, Hana sighed with the realisation she had probably stalled on the best thing to happen to her in years. Because she was scared and looking for an excuse to bail out.
Then Logan’s arms went round her and he kissed Hana with a sense of urgency and possession. Abandoned, the poster of the Māori student broke free and slipped slowly onto the floor. Logan’s lips were gentle and
teasing as he explored her and Hana found her arms involuntarily moving up and around his neck. The sound of the bell for the first period sent them skittering apart, shocked as they remembered where they were. A few more kisses for good measure and Hana bent to retrieve the poster, tearing herself away from Logan’s strong grasp, his hands firmly around her waist. “I have to go,” she insisted, hearing her own heartbeat stridently in her ears.
“What if I don’t want to let you?” Logan’s lips were persuasive, the skin on his face soft from shaving and his aftershave fresh and enticing. Hana found it increasingly difficult to leave as her stomach plunged downwards in a sensation of incredible longing. “What if I never let you go again?” he asked seductively.
“Stop it,” Hana giggled, wriggling away as Logan gently bit her neck. “We’re going to get caught.”
The loudly clumping footsteps increased swiftly as a hundred boys thronged past on the way to class. The door was slightly ajar and bags knocked against it as the boys shoved and pushed each other to get up the stairs and around the bend. Remembering the well-known problem with the cupboard, Hana released herself from Logan’s attempt to kiss her neck and grabbed an exercise book. Rushing forward she intended to shove it between the door and the jamb. She was too late. A scuffle outside as two different lines of bodies squeezed past each other in opposite directions put pressure on the barely open door. With a loud click, the lock snapped into place, the key code access panel uselessly on the outside.
Logan strode forward knocking loudly on the door but the stampeding students stomping to class drowned out his efforts. Total disaster.
“Are you teaching next?” Hana asked wide eyed.
“Sure am,” came the stunned reply “but who’s going to look for me here?”
Ascertaining that both had left their cell phones in their desks, Hana and Logan stood around a while longer and then when they had given up hope of a quick, although embarrassing release, they sat down on the wooden floor to wait it out. “What shall we say when someone comes and opens the door?” Hana sounded tearful, biting her bottom lip nervously.
Logan leaned back and sighed, “Tell them we were making out.”
Hana slapped him playfully on the arm. She could see the funny side, but also the not-so-funny-side and it was the latter which created a knot in the pit of her stomach. She hated feeling in the wrong. Once she stood too long in Anka’s office talking and was caught there by the administrative director, the formidable Donald. He gave her ‘the look,’ which spoke volumes without words and Hana hadn’t had a lunch break for two weeks to assuage her conscience. Not that he had known or even noticed she was absent from the staff room at mealtimes, but it made her feel better for a while. Six years on and she still felt guilty if he spotted her coming out of the toilets or running an errand on the admin corridor, as though she had been dubbed the ‘time stealer.’
“You worried about Watson?” Logan asked, putting his arm around her shoulders and tucking Hana’s slight frame into his side. She nodded.
“Kind of...yeah. But then I don’t know why really. Do you know that two years ago, I needed his signature on a contract with one of the universities and I found him in his office downstairs? I held the paperwork out towards him and he peered at me over his glasses and do you know what he said?” Hana looked expectantly at Logan who shrugged. “He said, ‘Do you work here?’ Fifteen years of slogging my guts out and that’s what he said to me.”
Logan snorted and Hana slapped his leg. “It’s not funny. It’s actually quite hurtful. It made me wonder why I bother putting in the extra hours. But if he opened that door now, I’ll still crap myself!”
Logan snuffed and kissed the side of Hana’s face. “I’ll protect you, babe,” he said.
It felt good being in a small space with Logan, apart from the fact he wanted to kiss her and she daren’t, especially in light of the anticipated and imminent sacking she felt coming as soon as they were discovered. Logan seemed completely unruffled but Hana’s conscience troubled her.
“Just cuddle me?” She allowed him to pull her in close and shield her spine from the painful shelving behind them, but resisted all other attempts at rekindling their former passion.
Logan held her hand in his and stroked her fingers, allowing her time to calm down. “I’ll take the blame,” he said softly. “I’m new, they’ll figure I didn’t know the door would shut me in here.”
“Ok then,” Hana replied shamelessly and Logan hid his smile. Perhaps the good little girl wasn’t so good after all.
Logan laid his head back against a shelf and closed his eyes. Hana rested her palm on his thigh and he struggled not to react in the way he really wanted to. “Logan,” Hana whispered and he opened his eyes and looked at her. “About before. Anka told me something in confidence the day before she resigned and I don’t think it’s right that you would expect me to gossip about her with you...I...” She bit her lip and he turned slightly in his awkward position, raising his hand so she didn’t have to finish.
“Look, I’m sorry about how I was. It was just a bit of a shock, that’s all. You’re right, a confidence is a confidence. It’s fine.” He pressed his lips to Hana’s in forgiveness, shifting position so he could hold and kiss her at the same time, his hands soft and warm around her shoulder and waist. Hana felt a flush of passion that made her feel eighteen again. She had felt it just once back then, at a party in her first year at Aberystwyth University. That one reckless moment heralded a world of trouble. But I’m older and wiser now, Hana told herself as she overrode the urge to flee. I won’t make the same mistakes again. She kissed Logan back, excited when she sensed his heightened sexuality and his breathing changed.
“We should stop,” she sighed, pulling away from him and biting her lip. “It’s probably not a good look if someone comes in.”
Logan raised his eyebrows and leaned back with a smug look on his face.
“What’s with you?” Hana laughed at him and nudged him. He seized her fingers and kissed them.
“I was just thinking I’ve never been happier.”
“What?” Hana sounded doubtful. “We’ve just had a bit of a pash on the floor of a filthy stock cupboard in the armpit of the world. How can this make you happy?”
“Because you’re here,” he replied and his smile was genuine. “When was the last time anyone told you how beautiful you are?”
“Er...” Hana genuinely couldn’t remember. “I don’t...know.”
Logan looked at her in horror. “Didn’t your husband say it to you?”
Hana shifted uncomfortably on the floor. “No...we...it’s complicated.” She visibly squirmed and pain crossed her face. She wriggled away from Logan, sorry for his look of misery at their broken contact.
“It’s ok.” His voice was soft as he leaned into her and kissed her gently on the cheek. “I’ll tell you every day. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
“I bet you say that to all the girls,” Hana’s voice was listless and faraway. Logan knew he was losing her. He put his arm back round her and cuddled her in close.
“Actually, I’ve never ever said it to anyone.” He smiled and his eyes crinkled at the edges. “I’ve only ever wanted to say it to you.” He kissed her temple slowly and held her tight.
Hana sighed against his shoulder. “You’re funny,” she whispered and Logan hid his look of sadness. She had no idea how true his statement was.
At last, after a long and uncomfortable sit on the dusty floor, the door opened again. Hana bounced up like a rusty Zebedee but Logan stayed lolling on the ground looking like he was at a picnic. The newcomer stopped in her tracks and stared, firstly in surprise and then smugly at the occupants of the stock room. “We thought you’d been kidnapped,” she directed at Logan, who still didn’t get up.
Hana was aware her face grew pinker by the second, something Logan didn’t seem to need to worry about, seated in the shadows. The period bell sounded muffled as it tolled ag
ain in the corridor, ominously reminding Hana they had been stuck in the room for an hour. Sunita stepped more boldly into the small space at the same moment as the stampede began. Abruptly she lurched forward with a grunt as another body entered the cramped space. “Party is it? Cool as!” squealed Peter North. “Hey, Logan, Hana asked me to give you your keys. Yesterday.”
Logan narrowed his eyes and held his hand out. Pete put his fingers in his pocket and looked confused, until enlightenment dawned. “She’s got them,” he said, pointing rudely at Hana. “I just need some staples. I’m mending my fly, look.” He pointed down at his crotch where the zipper in his flapping trousers had broken. A dingy pair of Y-fronts poked through the gap. Sunita clapped her hand over her eyes but it was too late for Hana. She had already seen. North shoved his way past Sunita, grabbing at a box on the shelf near her elbow. The door behind him began to slowly close and before anyone could do anything about it, there was a violent slam. The sound of students walking about on the staircase made the ensuing shouts and hammering entirely ineffectual.
Logan still hadn’t made any attempt to get off the floor and patted the space next to him. “You might as well take a seat again,” he said to Hana.
The cupboard was small enough with two, but with four adult bodies in it, it felt overheated and claustrophobic. North squished himself into the corner between Logan and the wall, stating apologetically to Sunita, “Sorry Luv, I’m already spoken for,” as though it was a nightclub or dating booth. Hana looked aghast at him. Sunita humphed and folded her arms.
It was a long morning all in all. Hana had been gone for an hour and a half, alternating between hoping she’d been missed and then praying she hadn’t. She silently vowed to work overtime and make up for it. Sunita and Hana sat on the bare board floor, chatting quietly so as to hear sounds of anyone passing by, ready to leap up and hammer on the door for help. Logan and Pete bickered about the room they had and then fell silent as Pete curled up in his corner and went to sleep. A couple of times he tried to cuddle up to Logan who edged away each time, finally disturbing him with a well-aimed thump to the arm. “Get off, weirdo,” Logan hissed.