by Bowes, K T
By five o’clock, Hana realised Anka was becoming increasingly distracted. It seemed the intimacy between them was coming to an end. Hana collected the dress carefully into a carrier bag and dressed herself for leaving. She felt as though her friend was practically throwing her out, even though Anka remained clipped and polite. “All the best for Friday,” Anka said, a strange look in her eyes. She hugged Hana and shoved her out onto the doormat.
Once in the street, Hana sensed the darkness creeping quickly around her and winced. She was in a part of town she didn’t know. It was a long way back to school via the main roads, but she didn’t want to go across fields on her own in the dusk. Once again Hana cursed her stupid shoes, vowing to wear lower heels in future as she made her way down the street past a few old villas. Glancing back, she was in time to see an old scooter bounce over the kerb and into Anka’s driveway. Through bushes which had begun to lose their leaves, Hana saw a side view of Tama as he hopped off and made his way up the porch steps. Despite the muscles and the bravado he was still a child. Hana felt sad for him and Anka and the trap they had created for themselves.
Hana caught a bus going anticlockwise on the Orbiter route and got off at the last stop she possibly could. She must have walked for twenty minutes before getting even close to school. She hoped with all her heart Angus had worked late and his car would still be in her space in the Chapel car park. She was sure she had his mobile number and scrabbled around in her bag to find her phone and check, in case the front doors of the school were already locked up for the night. Trying to take the screen off ‘lock’ she realised it wasn’t locked at all, but dead.
Deciding not to panic, Hana kept walking towards the brightly lit school buildings which shone out onto Maui Street, blackness enclosing the rest of the town. Traffic was busy and she felt heartened to see a number of vehicles buzzing in and out of the gates like bees returning obediently to the nest. It must be one of the nights where community education put on adult courses. Surely Angus would still be there.
Coming through the front gate, Hana saw his empty parking slot and her heart sank. Idiot! Why did I leave his personal assistant with the message and not try to find him myself? Deciding to go into the office and see if she had any cash for the bus fare to Rototuna in her drawer, Hana became aware of a car travelling slowly round the Chapel as she waited to cross the road. Just in time, she realised it looked familiar and as another vehicle passed it, she saw the face of the Asian man lit up in the reflected glow of oncoming headlights. As quickly as she could, she flicked the wide hood of her long coat up and over her head, hoping he hadn’t recognised her.
The car drove past her so slowly she held her breath, but it continued on towards the back car parks and gymnasium. Hana ran, hoping the driver thought she was a member of the public attending a night school course and she fell against the front doors heavily, finding as she grappled with the handles they were locked. Her breath came in gasps as Hana’s panic got out of control. She wrenched at the rigid door handle without success. Then she screamed out as a firm hand caught hold of her right arm. “No!”
Hana lashed out, startling Pete and catching him in the eye with her hand. He swore loudly, but stopped rubbing his eye when he saw Hana’s great distress. “Come round here,” he hissed, looking over her shoulder and thinking on his feet, he led her to an unlocked side door and dragged her inside the building. Hana was even less happy there as the corridor was lit up like a Christmas tree. Hyperventilating, Hana gasped out uncontrolled sobs in her terror. “They’re outside,” she managed to cry, like a pitifully wounded animal. “They’re here!”
Every one of the corridors was lit and there seemed to be no place to run and nowhere to hide. The only solution was the infamous cupboard under the stairs, which Pete locked them both into. The light bulb hadn’t worked for ages although Hana would have had apoplexy if Pete even dared to try and turn it on, so they waited quietly until the noise of foot traffic and laughing voices outside died down.
For once in his life, Pete was the genuine hero of the hour as he pulled out his fully charged mobile phone, complete with ample credit and made a call to a frantic Logan, who had discovered from Angus that Hana’s car was still at his unit.
As the cupboard couldn’t be opened from the inside, it required someone else to come down and let Pete and Hana out. Angus persuaded Logan it shouldn’t be him as that would certainly draw attention to the situation, seeing as he had already encountered the men. Reluctantly, Logan waited at Angus’ unit, pacing up and down until he returned with the shocked Hana.
Pete went home in his own car, feeling everything the conquering hero, but practicing acting up the cricketing injury to his head in case Henrietta had already touched down in the Waikato and was heading to the Gordonton house. He could play it either way, depending on the end result. Cute puppy or Rottweiler; he hadn’t yet decided.
Logan seemed truly livid. Hana had never seen him so flushed and enraged. His grey eyes glittered in his head like gems and it was frightening. Fleetingly Hana considered it strange that all her major rows with Logan should involve Anka. Logan thanked Angus with the civility due to his helpful employer, but was rough and curt with Hana as he bundled her into the Honda. She moved beyond her wild panic, to a state of childlike anxiety. She snivelled into a hanky she found in her coat pocket and tried to cry quietly, expecting once he got her home, Logan would dump her and call off the wedding. He drove, slightly erratically, slipping out into Rototuna and going back to Ngaruawahia via Horsham Downs and Lake Road, picking up River Road much further up.
Reaching into the drawer underneath the cigarette lighter, Logan took out the remote as they pulled onto the driveway and the gates slid open obligingly. Hana wanted to mention that he hadn’t stopped at the post box but thought better of it as the car jumped up the gravel. Logan didn’t wait for the delay, but pressed the remote again and the gates closed behind them. Once at the house, Logan used the car keys to isolate the key to the front door and locking Hana in the car, went through the house for some moments before coming back out and unlocking the Honda.
Hana used the terrible interlude to wipe the tears off her face and bravely await her spectacular dumping. She wasn’t sure what she had done wrong, but Logan was clearly angry beyond belief.
Ever the gentleman, Logan offered her his hand to get out of the car and then leaned in to pick up her bag for her. Locking the car behind him, he followed her up the steps into the house, pushing the door securely shut with his foot once they were in. Hopping from foot to foot, trying to balance as he took off the boots he used on his bike was marginally funny and Hana in her emotional state worked hard not to giggle and annoy him further. She realised he must have left his bike at Angus’ place and wondered how he was going to get home again. The entire car swapping and hiding was confusing her brain. She thought for the millionth time that week she couldn’t go on like this much longer. With his shoes finally off, Hana noticed Logan had a hole in his sock, through which she could see his toes. Something about the sight caused her to reach breaking point and with a complete lack of control she started to laugh.
The laughter was hysterical and wrought from her body as though by an unseen hand, pulling it out on a rope. It seemed to make Logan even more annoyed and he stomped off to the kitchen where she heard him switching on the kettle to boil. Eventually, the laughter subsided, leaving behind a feeling of extreme emptiness and a wretched misery which quickly turned to tears and dismay. Hana slipped off the shoes which pinched her feet over the nightmare walk and kicked them to the side of the door. She then slipped through to the bedroom and closed the door on Logan and the world generally. Each of the doors in the old house had a lock and an old metal key and she was sorely tempted to turn it and lock herself in but she didn’t, partly because it was sticking and wouldn’t turn. She slipped off her work clothes and got into the monkey pyjamas that she had taken pity on and washed, instead of throwing away. They were snuggly and comfor
ting and once in the bedroom, Hana decided to get into bed as well, enjoying the warmth and familiarity of the too hard mattress and the electric blanket she realised guiltily, she had forgotten to turn off that morning.
Logan knocked on the door and Hana heard the clink of a plate being put down on the rimu boards before the door opened and a scrape as it was picked up again. Beside the bed, Logan placed a small plate on the bedside table alongside a cup of tea. Hana could smell toast and smiled inwardly. Logan’s answer to crisis and tragedy was a slice of toast and jam. She kept her eyes closed but felt the mattress sag as he sat down on the bed next to her. Still he said nothing and Hana tensed. If she pretended she was asleep, would he leave? Hana couldn’t resist taking a little peek at him from under her wet eyelashes.
Logan sat on the bed bent almost double, one of his hands resting on his thigh, the other covering his eyes. He looked tired and spent and Hana felt sorry for him. She sat up and reached for him wrapping her arms around his shoulders and pulling him in towards her. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” The tears started flowing again, “I wanted to borrow a dress for Friday...my phone died...and Anka went funny on me...I couldn’t get in the school...sorry...sorry.”
Logan climbed onto the bed and lay next to her. They stayed there for a long time and the tea and toast went cold on the bedside table. Much, much later, Logan got under the bed sheets fully clothed and stayed there holding tightly onto Hana in her monkey pyjamas. He said nothing, but his kisses were urgent and desperate. When he rolled on top of her, Hana was almost undone. Logan’s insistent fingers pushed underneath her pyjama top and strayed where they weren’t meant to. His tongue felt warm and sweet in her mouth and it felt so easy and right. Hana’s heart slid into her stomach causing a roller coaster ride of sensations while her mind-voice screamed warnings and threats to her lust addled brain. Logan’s fingers were calloused from work on the farm and marked and scarred with old wounds. They felt rough against the soft skin of Hana’s hip as he slipped them down inside the waistband of her pyjamas and smoothed the skin over the jutting bone.
Her father’s face swam before her, sneering and angry. “Slut!” he hissed. “You’re no daughter of mine! How could you?”
She gasped as though drowning and fought for air. Logan’s expert ministrations stopped immediately. He rolled off Hana quickly in an easy motion and gathered her into his arms. “Sorry, sorry.” It was his turn to apologise. He kissed her face and forehead, pressing deliciously soft lips to her skin and holding her, determined not to let her go.
Hana awoke early the next morning, unused to the sound and feel of someone else in bed with her. She heard Logan breathing deeply and felt the downward pull in the mattress where he lay next to her. She reached out and felt the scratchiness of his jeans against her hand. After a little while, she climbed out of bed and went down to the kitchen. Turning on the light, she made a pot of tea. The toaster was still out on the side so she stuffed a few slices of bread into it and got out a plate. Tiger prowled around so she gave him some tinned meat and biscuits and emptied and washed out his litter tray, putting the black bin bag by the door ready to go down to the garage.
All the clattering and swishing of water brought Logan from the bedroom, looking dreadful. A good coating of dark stubble shadowed his face and his hair stuck up at jaunty angles. He had big bags under his eyes and sank down at the kitchen table with an effort.
Hana collected the toast from the toaster and put it on a plate for him but he buttered it and then only picked at it. He’d said nothing the previous night and seemed set to continue the silent treatment. Hana faltered, remembering the electricity of the night before, but Logan’s behaviour seemed to doom their impending marriage. “Do you...you know... want to call the wedding off?”
Hana gulped, twirling a spoon in her fingers and dreading his answer, but Logan looked at her with his piercing grey eyes, accusation in the set of his jaw. “How could you even suggest that? The way I feel about last night has nothing to do with marrying you. It’s keeping you safe I’m struggling with. You’re impulsive, you behave rashly and seem to have some weird death wish at the moment.” He put his head in his hands and sighed with exhaustion.
“Anka was helping me find something to wear...but then Tama must have been due home and she wanted me to go. I had to walk to school in the dark.” Hana sat next to Logan, aware he tensed when she mentioned Tama’s name. She put her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry. I told her about the attacks but I think she’s focused on her own problems at the moment.”
Logan made a sound a bit like a harrumph, but made no comment. Hana tried harder, afraid he was still angry with her and added more quietly, “I know you shouldn’t, but would you like to see the dress? It was in the carrier bag you threw on the hall floor.”
Logan leapt to his feet, dragging Hana up with him. He seized her in his arms and held onto her tightly. “I don’t know what’s going on,” he whispered into her hair, “I don’t know how to keep you safe. I’ve only ever had to protect myself before. I don’t know how to do this.”
Hana breathed in the masculine scent of him and the fading aftershave and felt lucky he was there, caring about her and worrying about her. The situation felt less desperate because of it. It’s a case of perspective, she reasoned to her frazzled nerves.
“We slept together,” she whispered teasingly and kissed him on the underside of his stubbled chin. Logan conceded enough to laugh and then relaxing his grip on her, reached into his jeans pocket for his cell phone.
“Yeah, we almost didn’t just sleep either. Hope your son’s an early riser!” he commented wryly, dialling Bodie’s number.
Bodie was both frantic and completely stumped. He was also angry with Logan for not calling the police the previous night, although given the lack of interest from the cops who’d visited Cilla’s house, he was not surprised. He was unbelievably frustrated and sick of trying to talk to old friends in Hamilton. It was clear they knew nothing. Logan went out into the hall on the pretext of moving his boots to continue the call without Hana hearing.
Finally, he rang off and went to get a shower in the hope it made him feel less frazzled. Hana was resolute about going to work, despite the knowledge that the school was being watched. “I’ll carry on the charade with Angus for now and take each day as it comes. But I promise to behave from now on.”
Logan had a splitting headache and seriously couldn’t face a day of noisy classes followed by the ultimate in boredom, a faculty meeting. He dropped Hana off at Angus’ place and apologised for this, his first day off sick. Angus took one look at him and agreed with Logan, the dark eyes and general unkempt look betraying a man under extreme pressure. Angus liked Logan hugely. He heard great reports of him as a teacher and appreciated the way he conducted himself. Parents of private schools were keen to attend parents’ evenings in order to ensure the investment in their child was proving worthwhile, but it was noticeable that Logan was booked out at the event in term-one. A record number of busy mothers turned out in support of their children. Angus found it funny, taking the view that any reason to get them in was a good reason, even if it was to letch at his head of faculty.
“Get some rest,” Angus said, patting Logan on the shoulder in an attempt at encouragement. Then he set off for town with his precious cargo, determined to keep better tabs on her this time.
Chapter 50
Logan went to the Gordonton house using a back route across country, past the attractive lakes towards the north, finally turning back on himself. Angus looked strangely at him as he dropped Hana off. He must know Logan spent the night at her place. In a few days, it wouldn’t matter.
The boys in the house were all out at work and although Henrietta was clearly back at the helm, she wasn’t there when Logan let himself through the front door. Moving quickly, he packed up the few belongings he owned and loaded them into the Honda. He brought very little with him from Auckland when he fled to the safety of a new life
and the furniture was part of the lease. Logan was obsessively tidy and careful with his things and there wasn’t much lying around that belonged to him. His few possessions fitted into a rucksack and a kit bag, which went easily into the car boot. It was sad how forty years of living accumulated very little for Logan Du Rose; no treasures, no furniture. There had been both once, but Caroline Marsh was sure to take anything of value when she left him with the astronomical bill for a lavish wedding he hadn’t really wanted. He thought momentarily about that bill which his father claimed Reuben handed to him. Logan still didn’t understand it, certain he wrote cheques at the time.
After all that, had Hana Johal not gotten under his skin he probably would have taken back the mantle of suffering and let Caroline rule his world yet again when she finally turned up after her latest dalliance. There was a brief moment of confusion that night she met him in the car park, before he made the comparison and found against Hana’s simple honesty, there was no contest. It had always been Hana for him, from that first moment on the train when he felt her pain emanating across the aisle between them. Caroline sadly was only ever a stopgap. It made him feel cruel. Perhaps he was the reason for her obsessive behaviour. But then he thought back to childhood and the way she treated people and absolved himself. “No,” he said out loud to the elderly villa, “this is what the old lady prophesied.” Then he laughed, a sad, disconsolate sound in the echoing hallway. “How do I start a new legacy without children? I always thought it could be Tama...” Pain crossed his face and Logan shucked his thoughts like taking off a jacket and concentrated on the task in hand.
Logan tried to write a note and leave it on the fireplace in the dining room, but screwed it up. What could he say after all, leaving in such a hurry?