by Bowes, K T
“Yes please,” she whispered. “To the wine.”
While he was fetching it, Hana stripped off quickly and dived into the bath, almost breaking her neck in her haste to cover up the not-so-sexy parts of her body under the bubbles. Logan returned with two glasses of wine balanced in one hand, far too full to be a single measure and probably a bad idea with painkillers. To her embarrassment, he perched himself on the little stool in the corner and settled in for the long haul. “Hana?” His voice was serious, “Do you regret…this?” He indicated the room with his outstretched arm, wine slopping from the glass in his hand. The sweep of his arm took in her in the bath, himself, the house, their marriage, the whole situation. She thought about the question, feeling guilty for her thoughts along those lines earlier in the day. He would know if she lied.
“No, not when it’s like this, just us.” She took a swallow of her red wine, “When other people get involved, it gets so messy.”
Logan looked genuinely relieved and nodded. “Perhaps we should run away,” he suggested half seriously. “Clean toilets on the Gold Coast or in Fiji, what do you reckon?”
Hana laughed and sank down comfortably in the bubbles until only her face showed. “You know what, if we hadn’t just bought this place, I would have given it some serious thought!”
Logan smiled when she said ‘we just bought this place’ and not ‘I’, but it led him to broach another knotty subject. “Hana,” he began and his voice sounded grave, bringing Hana up to peep over the side of the bath. “If I died…”
Instantly he saw the pain and recoil in her face. “Look, I’m sorry, but we need to talk about this. Until we work out what’s going on, it’s a possibility, even though the cops aren’t taking it seriously.” Logan stared at a mark on the ceiling to avoid the horror in Hana’s face. “If I died, you’d be ok, you’ll get everything I have, but Hana if it were you…” He could hardly bear to think of it and he took a slug of the wine. “You have your kids. You need to make sure it works out for them.”
Hana sank back down into the bath, her face ashen. “You think it might come to that?”
Logan shrugged. “I don’t know, babe. But someone’s going to an awful lot of trouble to find you. It’s hardly normal behaviour is it?”
Hana shook her head sadly, bubbles moving in her hair. He was right. She needed to change her will. She looked back over the side of the bath at him. “Ok,” she said, a lone tear working its way down her cheek and into the water.
“Oh, sweetheart.” Logan placed his wine glass on the sink and knelt down by the bath. He slipped his good arm around Hana’s wet shoulders and held her. “I forget you’re not used to this,” he sighed, stroking her damp hair and kissing her temple.
Hana didn’t sleep well that night, despite another glass of wine and an exhausting romp with her husband. She kept thinking about the conversation with Ethel Bowman, hatching unrealistic plans to try and trap this Mr Laval. She wondered if she could set up a coffee meeting with him somewhere and have Bodie and the entire New Zealand Police Force conveniently having coffee at the same place. But it always came down to the same thing, it may not be him.
Tiger came strutting up the stairs as they arrived home, looking pleased with himself. He hadn’t seemed hungry but spent ages licking and preening his fur. He laid on the end of their bed, snuffling around and undoubtedly licking his bum. “Pack it in!” Hana moved her foot and heard the controlled thud as he got off the bed. He gave a little mew that usually meant, don’t care - didn’t want to be here anyway, before she heard his bell tinkle off down the hallway.
Only Logan seemed to believe her - there was something in this connection. Even Bodie thought it highly unlikely, frustrating her with his policeman talk. She contemplated writing a note and passing it on via Mrs Bowman, saying something like, ‘I have no idea what you want from me. If you describe it, maybe I can help you?’ Even as she mentally penned the note, Hana knew it was ridiculous. It would never work. It was little more than night time ramblings. And if he really was Mrs Bowman’s elderly beau, who genuinely did know her from somewhere, Hana would have some explaining to do.
Hana turned over for the hundredth time, not that she needed to count and tried to switch her addled brain off. Logan’s words came back to her. “I forget you’re not used to this.” A niggling fear added to her multitude of worries. Did that mean he was used to it? Hana squeezed her eyes tight shut and pushed her face into her pillow. What have I done?
Hana Du Rose
Chapter 6
Hana woke groggily to the sound of a mug being laid on her bedside table and the clink of cutlery on a plate. She struggled to properly rouse herself. Her breathing felt tight, as though a truck rolled over her chest while she slept. It was around three o’clock when Hana finally found sleep, or it found her and she was exhausted. Looking at the wall clock in the dim light from the hallway, Hana saw the hands pointing to just after six.
She rubbed her eyes and when she opened them saw Logan waiting patiently next to the bed. He carried his painful left arm across his chest but in the other hand was a card and small present. The wrapping paper clung to the small box haphazardly, sellotape sticking out at odd angles and barely trapping the pretty blue paper in place. Hana sat up, automatically putting on her best face. “Hi babe,” she yawned. “How come you’re up so early?”
“I wanted to make you breakfast.” Logan’s thigh clattered against the plate, almost bringing the whole thing down onto the floor. Hana smiled her best, wooden beam, cringing at the acceleration of the widening age gap. She felt old and scruffy as she leaned against the pillows with her hair matted and her monkey pyjamas skewed over her shoulder. Logan’s beautiful face looked down on her, his fluttering dark eyelashes framing striking grey eyes and his fringe bouncing with the force of each blink. Hana bit her lip and hoped the card didn’t have a badge on it declaring, Happy Birthday, 45 Today!
Logan leaned down and put the card and gift into her hands, kissing her on the cheek. Hana deliberately held her breath, not wanting to exhale on him without cleaning her teeth first. “Thank you darling.” She smiled with gratitude, willing her tired fingers to work at pulling apart the envelope. Inside was a beautiful card, picked with obvious thought. Logan had written a lovely message inside with his other hand and it was slanted the wrong way and slightly messy.
‘To the prettiest girl in the world, I’m so happy I found you at last. All my love, Logan x.’
Hana felt tearful reading it, hoping like the printed message stated, it would be the best birthday ever. She wondered what the chances of that were, when she couldn’t even get to work without subterfuge. The gift, when she finally got the sellotape off, was a gorgeous locket. It was silver and light, but big enough to take a reasonable sized photograph. The gift was thoughtful and Hana hugged Logan. “Thank you. I really love it. Oh my gosh, how did you make breakfast one-handed?”
Logan handed her a plate of scrambled eggs on toast, the whole thing made with considerable pain and effort. When he put the main light on to help her eat without spilling and left the room to go back to the kitchen, Hana caught sight of his bare torso and covered her mouth with her hand in horror. The crow-bar hadn’t only broken Logan’s arm, it left a long bruise across his naked left side, spreading into the middle of his back. The bruise was black and obvious even from a distance. Hana thought about how Tama swung the iron bar. She remembered the sickening thud as it contacted Logan’s body. The curved metal prongs curled round and broke his arm, but the length of the metal left a diagonal welt right down to the top of his shorts. Hana shook her head at his genuine reluctance to see the doctor the previous night. He was lucky it hadn’t done internal injuries.
Logan seemed bright enough as he cleared up the kitchen with difficulty, determined to give Hana a special day. Hana’s spirits felt lifted and she got ready for work with a lighter heart, tying a plastic bag over the plaster cast so Logan could have a shower and helping him off with it again
afterwards. They listened to the radio on the way to work, taking the same route as the day before and parking on the side street. Hana wore stylish but sensible footwear and the journey through the gully was easy, despite the light rain speckling the track.
“I love you, Loge,” Hana said to her husband, smiling up at him as she navigated a puddle. Turning, she saw the faintest glimmer of pain cross his face and then he beamed at her and placed his hand on hers, the look of agony gone like mist.
On her desk at work Hana found a number of cards from her workmates and a chocolate bar from the social club. Even Pete proudly handed her something from him and Henrietta which had grown a little dog-eared in his pocket. “Henri got it,” he admitted, crinkling his nose as Hana revealed the scented draw liners. “They stink, aye?”
Hana received a lovely text from Izzie and another from Bodie, but when her phone buzzed again around ten o’clock, it failed to recognise the number. She opened the message with caution, assuming it was a wrong number.
‘Happy Birthday mate, I hope this year brings you all the happiness you deserve. Wishing you all the best, your friend, Anka xx.’
Hana glanced at the other occupants in the room. Caroline looked busy with a Year 13 who had a plaited ratty hanging down his neck and was refusing to cut it off. Pete sat in his office chair ‘marking,’ with his eyes shut tightly and his face resting on his desk. Hana quickly texted back.
‘Thank you – I miss you – where are you?’
There was nothing for a while and then after she gave up hope and returned her phone to her desk drawer, Hana heard the muted text signal. Whipping it eagerly out of her drawer, Hana read the message.
‘Don’t laugh but I’m working as a chalet cleaner in Russell. I need some space. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m trusting you. You looked beautiful at the registry office. I was proud of you. I miss you 2.’
Hana texted back.
‘I won’t tell. I saw you there. Please stay in touch?’
Again her phone bleeped. Caroline sighed and looked pointedly in Hana’s direction. She didn’t need much of an excuse to start making trouble. The woman’s blue eyes narrowed to angry slits and Hana turned back to her work. She missed Sheila’s easy going management dreadfully and wondered again why her friend was away. Hana’s texts to her phone went unanswered and Angus was being coy about her disappearance. Hana dipped her hand into the drawer for her phone and pulled it out, keeping one wary eye on Caroline. The new message was stark but made Hana’s heavy heart dance with delight.
‘K.’ it said.
Anka’s communication made Hana feel restored and she whistled and hummed annoyingly while she worked. As a security measure she deleted Anka’s texts, although she wasn’t sure who else would be interested. Friendship and solidarity made Hana braver than usual in the face of Caroline Marsh’s venom. Hana wished Anka were there. She would have eaten Caroline Marsh for breakfast and spat out the pips.
Hana powered through her work, leaving herself enough time to do a display out in the foyer. Logan appeared at interval with a nice coffee from the vending machine and it was deliciously frothy. Hana sighed with pleasure. “This is so nice. I could get used to this. I’ve been tolerating that insipid brew all year and it never even occurred to me to bring coins for the machine.”
Logan smiled, revealing his neat white teeth against his dark lips and leaned forward to kiss Hana on the mouth. She sighed and tilted the coffee dangerously. “Whoa,” he whispered, a rushed, breathy sound. “You don’t want to add to the sins on the carpet do you?” He raised an eyebrow and Hana stifled a snort that ended in a shudder. The carpet was decades old, of indeterminate colour and probably possessed a few stories of its own. She wrinkled her neat nose and Logan grinned. “See ya later,” he whispered.
Caroline sat with her back to the couple and seethed, her body rigid with thwarted attraction and envy. Logan didn’t even glance in her direction, kissing Hana again on the corner of her lips and leaving with a wink. His confident swagger took him across the common room and through the back door to the guidance counsellor’s suites. Hana drank her coffee while watching him do a grounds duty, talking and laughing with the older students. She ogled him shamelessly, waving coyly as the bell rang and he turned to walk back to the main building. Hana’s leering silhouette was framed in the floor to ceiling window and Logan smirked at her as a small boy bounced next to him, telling him something important. Hana blew her husband a kiss and Logan nodded emphatically to the boy and then ran up the steps outside. He made it to Hana’s side in seconds, bailing her up against the wall to the left of the skinny window. “You are a real bad girl,” he breathed in her hair as Hana balanced the coffee cup and squeaked. “You’ll get both of us sacked!” He pulled the huge curtain across the glass enough to kiss Hana with passionate intention and then left her breathless as he strode away.
Hana hugged herself, her arms wrapped firmly across her breasts and watched Logan’s tall frame gliding away from her. He glanced at her once as he headed for the covered bridge to the English building, a look of desire in his eyes. He was lost from view as the frosted glass enveloped him and he became a dark shape moving forwards. The slam of the office door preceded Caroline’s hasty exit and Hana was alarmed to see her frosted shape running after Logan, her red blouse showing vividly through the glass like a distorted splodge. Hana gave chase, at once feeling guilty and defensive, hiding at the entrance to the covered walkway so she could hear but not be seen.
Caroline’s voice was pleading and cajoling. “Come on Logan, why are you doing this? I need to talk to you. There’s something you should know…we’re meant to be together, you know that. You’re only delaying the inevitable. You don’t want that stupid bimbo…”
Hana took a sharp intake of breath and held it, all thoughts of her husband’s delicious body wiped from her mind. Logan’s answer sounded as though it was delivered through gritted teeth.
“Leave me alone! Hana’s worth ten of you, so back off! We’ll never be together so get the message and go someplace else to spread your poison.” His voice was clear and steady, without any trace of awkwardness or doubt. Hana saw the outline of Caroline’s hand reach out for him, but he turned, moving off before it connected.
Hana’s relief was overwhelming, but a surprising wave of nausea bit at her stomach. She wanted to run after Logan and hold onto him, but she didn’t. Instead, she stayed rooted to the corner, unseen as the other woman walked straight past her and returned to the office. Hana spent a few minutes collecting herself before following Caroline into the room. The other woman was already seated and bashing hell out of her keyboard by the time Hana closed the door. Caroline glanced up and sneered. “Enjoy the show, bimbo?”
Colour flushed Hana’s cheeks and anger welled up at the sight of Caroline’s determined face. Rage bubbled over and spewed out and within two strides Hana was across the room and nose to nose with her. Caroline looked temporarily startled and rose to her full height, Hana’s nose level with the other woman’s chin. Caroline quickly set her face into its characteristic sneer. Enraged by her height deficiency, in addition to her stretch marks and other woes, Hana became vitriolic. “Leave Logan alone,” she hissed, balling her genteel hands into fists. “I’ll fight for what’s mine and it begins here!”
Caroline threw her head back and laughed, further antagonising Hana’s redheaded temper. “Logan Du Rose belongs to nobody, darling. None of them do. He’ll pick and choose just like his brother and one day, he just won’t pick you anymore!” She prodded a sharp nail into Hana’s chest.
Hana felt her heart detonate. She ground her teeth and her breath came in angry gasps. She pushed her body in close to Caroline, enjoying the other woman’s grimace as Hana stepped on her toes. “He picked me years ago, sister…oh yeah, that’s right. You weren’t at our wedding were you? Poor Caroline, so you really don’t know? Logan fell in love with me at fourteen, so whatever you were to him…I don’t think he’ll be coming back for
seconds.”
Hana wrinkled her nose in disgust at Caroline, stepping away from her as though she was trash. Hana’s conscience quailed and then disowned her as she behaved so violently out of character. Caroline’s face moved through a range of emotions from anger to misery, blanching visibly at the mention of Logan’s wedding to Hana. The tiny redhead shook inside, but her exterior was calm and collected as her index finger pointed only millimetres from Caroline’s face, “I mean it! Stay away from my husband and keep out of my way or I swear, I will make you sorry you ever followed him here!” Hana heard the bile in her own voice, fighting the urge to pin Caroline to the floor and pound her until she evaporated in a haze of steam and dust.
Recognising the narrow path between control and complete lack in Hana’s face, Caroline grabbed a folder and left the room, looking genuinely terrified. Alone, Hana faced what she had done, shivering and shaking and hoping nobody found out she just threatened a colleague; a sackable offence. “Oh God!” Hana wailed after closing and locking the office door. “I just handed Caroline every card in the deck; not only that, but I plumbed depths of myself I didn’t know were there.”
She stared back down the years at the nice little push-over she was, playing the poor victim for all those wasted years. It contrasted so sharply with the woman she just was, a banshee of a thing, powerful and intimidating, fighting for what was hers. Hana felt shocked and sick, retching into the dustbin as quietly as she dared. She tried to concentrate on her work, making a mess of some things and having to redo them.
When Pete turned up at lunchtime, she blagged his car keys from him, quietly borrowed a school uniform and cap from lost property and left the site unnoticed. Heading to the rest home, she unburdened herself to her old friend, Father Sinbad, who listened to her as always. To Hana’s amazement, the Father found her story hilarious. “For pities sake, gal,” he drawled in his thick Irish accent, “when I told youse to go and get some action, I didn’t mean for youse to get everyone else’s too. Well, you’re a greedy gal if ever I did see one! Gawd love ya, youse gonna give me a conniption.”