Hana Du Rose Mysteries Boxed Set: Books 1 - 4

by Bowes, K T

  Jas seemed particularly sensitive to Hana’s emotions and stuck close to her, wanting to hold her hand and be near her. Logan held onto her as she leaned in to hug him and Amy noticed how Bodie looked away, a curious expression on his face. She knew it must be hard for him. He adored his father. She also knew him well enough to know he wouldn’t talk about his feelings, even if she asked him.

  Jas was keen to show Hana some of his toys, especially his policeman-Action Man, whom he said looked like Logan. Which is how they ended up at Amy’s villa in the suburb of Claudelands. Amy made a light lunch for them all while Hana spent time in Jas’s bedroom at the back of the house. The house was old like Culver’s Cottage and equally in need of love, but it felt like a happy place. Jas’ room had been decorated for a smaller boy, with blue walls and a rainbow mural, but he didn’t seem to mind. He showed her a toy box full of Action Man figures and leaned into it, his feet almost off the floor, scrabbling around in the bottom to find the one he thought looked like Logan.

  “Here he is!” the child announced. He seized on it and hauled it out of the box, detaching it from the arms and legs of all the others with difficulty. It did look a bit like Logan, with olive skin, dark wavy hair sticking up in places and a scar under his eye.

  The police uniform was a little rumpled and very American and Jas had pinned a pink breast cancer support ribbon to his chest. It took up most of the torso on the little man, but the sentiment was there. “It’s his medal,” informed Jas, straight-faced, “for being a crime fighter.”

  Hana thought back to the memory of Bodie and his Action Man. “Your dad had the bungee-jumper,” Hana mused as she turned the doll over in her hands. “His grappling hook got caught on an elderly lady’s hat on the bus and whipped it off”

  Jas giggled, especially when Hana added it also snagged her wig. “Then during a christening service for a friend’s baby, I suddenly noticed a wailing noise coming from Daddy during one of the hymns. I thought he was getting into the singing and felt quite proud of him, but then I saw the bungee jumper’s hook stuck on his thumb. It was pinching his flesh horribly. Fortunately, I managed to dislodge the hook and mop his tears up before the end of ‘Come, just as you are to worship’ and nobody was any the wiser.”

  Hana peered down at the little man in her hand. Action Man hadn’t really changed much over the years.

  Hana sat on the floor on her knees with her legs tucked underneath her. She actually didn’t know how much longer she could stay like that before the blood left her legs and she couldn’t feel them altogether. As she considered moving onto her bottom, Jas slid across and plonked himself squarely on her knees, instantly popping his thumb into his mouth. Hana put her arms around him, enjoying the little-boy-smell of washing powder and shower gel which lingered on him, trying not to sneeze as his fluffy hair brushed against her face. There was a sudden ‘pop’ as the thumb was extracted noisily and turning slightly, the little boy informed her, “I’ve got your new name.”

  Hana smiled outwardly, whilst acknowledging the cringe surfacing inside. She gave him an encouraging squeeze, which she honestly didn’t feel.

  “I’m going to call you Hanny,” he announced confidently and Hana noted he said I’m going to, so he clearly wasn’t asking permission. Actually as she pondered on it, it wasn’t too bad.

  “Ok,” she said slowly, “how did you decide on that?”

  “Well,” he said, turning entirely on her knees and making her feel paralysed from the thighs down. “I always wanted a Granny, more than anything. I wanted one sooooo bad, like the other boys and girls who get picked up by one from kindy and taken for treats. But you don’t have the fluffy hair like they do and the stick, so Granny isn’t right really.”

  Hana detected the slightest lisp as Jas said the letter ‘r’ as a ‘w’ and thought it was cute. “Yes,” she answered, happy with his reasoning. Apparently if a four-year-old could decide she wasn’t yet over-the-hill, he earned the right to call her whatever he liked. “I like it!” she said definitively.

  If his parents thought the scene odd when they came together to see what the child and grandparent were doing, they didn’t say. Hana lay on her front, flat on the floor behind a cardboard box with an Action Man soldier grasped in her hand. Jas bounced up and down on the balls of his feet on the other side of the box waving a somewhat battle-scarred looking Dr X, whose trousers were a little small, displaying rather a lot of bum crack for an action hero. They were having fun. Jas hurled what looked like rolled up paper bombs onto Hana, yelling, “Duck Hanny!” and Action Man soldier headed them like a soccer star.

  Hana Du Rose

  Chapter 11

  The afternoon was over quickly and Bodie dropped Hana back at the hospital while Amy looked after a sleeping Jas. Bodie dropped his mother as near to the doors as possible without entering the car park and Hana thanked him. “I hate that multi-storey. Thanks so much for doing this.”

  “I’ll be back around eight thirty,” he said, ignoring her protests about it being “I’m going to the police house for a shower and feed and to finish sorting out my room. They want me at work tomorrow.” Bodie gave a casual wave as he pulled out into the traffic.

  Hana found Logan asleep when she arrived, a state which quickly changed as the visitors poured in en masse with screaming children and loud greetings. He awoke to find Hana sitting in an easy chair next to his bed, half turned to look out of the window. She found the view fascinating and occupied herself watching an elderly gentleman holding up all the traffic on the main road. He held his stick out towards the stationary vehicles while he ambled across the road. The geriatric was a tiny dot from up there, like a small bug slowly creeping over a placemat. But the man possessed courage; to face down that much metal with a wooden stick.

  Hana turned back to find Logan watching her and he smiled. He tried to sit up and a stab of pain crossed his face but he persevered, letting her move his pillows around and using the switch by his hand to lever the bed-head into a more upright position. “I missed you last night,” Hana sighed and put her arms around his head, hugging him close into her chest. “You don’t smell of you anymore. You smell of hospital,” she said with regret, as she kissed the top of his head. He looked pale and unwell and a steady stream of red stuff leaked into the lower of the two pipes. Hana moved the chair closer and stroked Logan’s fingers. Speaking pained him, so they held hands and watched the other people in the room converse with their visitors. It made fascinating viewing as some made decent attempts at conversation and others sat and ate the food they brought for the invalid.

  After about ten minutes, a nurse appeared at the doorway with a chart in her hand, making a beeline for Logan’s bed as she read it. Another bag of clear liquid dangled from her hand and she switched it with the empty one on the higher peg and expertly connected it into the drip. “Drink this, love,” she said and handed Logan a plastic cup with tablets in it and a drink for him to swallow them. At Hana’s questioning look, she commented, “There’s infection setting in. This is an antibiotic to start fighting it.”

  With a swish, she turned and left before Hana could ask her anything definite. Hana chewed her bottom lip and looked worried. Logan swung his feet down to the floor and reached out for her. “Stop stressing. I can see your brain working from here!”

  Hana nestled into his pyjama shirt, enjoying his nearness and knowing it would make her miss him at home even more later, when it was dark outside and the loneliness set in. “Oh,” she began, “I haven’t told your family, I didn’t know how to get in touch with them.”

  Hana realised as she spoke with insincerity, a quick trip via Google would have found the hotel phone number easily enough. She didn’t want to speak to them. They seemed so hard and cruel. It crossed her mind they might not care and she didn’t know how she would deal with it.

  “That’s fine,” answered Logan, “I’ll ring Dad when I get out of here.”

  Noticing he didn’t mention Miriam, Hana shrugg
ed. It was his family. She learned of old, particularly with Vik’s volatile parents, not to meddle.

  The few hours of visiting went surprisingly quickly. Logan managed a short walk along the ward and time in the TV room watching a mundane programme, but Hana saw how much every step cost him. When Bodie arrived at just after eight o’clock, Logan looked pale and exhausted, a dark shadow of beard covering his lower face. It was pitiful and uncharacteristic of this larger-than-life man.

  “Here,” Bodie handed Logan an elderly mobile phone. “Amy dug it out. It’s got some credit still on it and I’ve topped it up, so at least you can text Mum if you want.” Bodie laid a pile of books on the cupboard. “I raided Amy’s bookshelves. These are mainly mysteries. I thought you might get bored.

  “Thanks, mate. I appreciate it.” Logan smiled, his face pale and sick, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

  Hana left with reluctance, knowing Bodie wanted to go. “I’ll be back tomorrow as soon as I’m allowed in.”

  Logan smiled and accepted her gentle kiss. Then he dropped his bombshell. “I’m going home tomorrow anyway.”

  Hana’s face betrayed serious doubt, but she didn’t want to burst his bubble. She called at the nurses’ station on her way out, intending to discover what state her husband really was in. He told her so little. Hana found Logan’s nurse who sitting behind the counter and asked for information on Logan. The nurse, whose name badge read Selina asked if Hana was a relative. “I’m his wife,” Hana confirmed, but still the nurse remained vague.

  “He’s doing fine considering.” she smiled, a nervous which finished with her biting her lip.

  “He thinks he’s coming home tomorrow,” Hana stated in the end, “and I wanted to check…with you.”

  The nurse thawed almost instantly. “Oh no!” She stood up, looking determined. “He’s going to be here quite some time.”

  “Oh, well,” Hana tried to explain, “I live near Huntly and I can’t visit before eleven because of the rules and Logan isn’t really telling me what’s going on. It’s all a bit bewildering…” She stopped, fearing the nurse wasn’t interested in the wider details of her life, but the opposite seemed true.

  “Look,” answered Selina, “I’m on an early shift tomorrow, so how about you come in around nine? I’ll give you permission to come in for the doctor’s rounds.” Hana looked doubtful as she added, “I’ll be here. I’ll remember.” She accompanied the last with a broad smile.

  “It would be good to hear it for myself, yes thank you.” Hana gave her a grateful smile. “It’s like pulling teeth trying to get information out of Logan. Thanks, that’s a huge relief.”

  Bodie drove Hana home to Culver’s Cottage, checking the road behind him prior to turning into the driveway. “How would you feel about swapping cars with me?” he asked as they pulled up to the house. “The tinted windows might give you some anonymity around town and you could see Logan when you wanted.”

  Hana smiled, touched by her son’s kindness. She knew how much Bodie loved his car but was fearful of pranging it and devastating him. “I’m not the world’s greatest driver, Bo. I’d be too scared.”

  Over a cup of coffee in the cheerful kitchen, Bodie reassured his surprised mother it was no longer the most important thing in his life. “It’s just a car,” he said philosophically.

  “Wow. Never thought I’d hear you admit that,” Hana smiled.

  “That’s before I knew I had a son,” Bodie said, leaning forward over his drink. “Now it doesn’t seem so important.”

  Hana watched the look of pride cross Bodie’s face at the thought of Jas. “He’s a gorgeous little boy,” she said, voicing Bodie’s thoughts for him and he smiled broadly.

  “Amy’s done a great job,” he admitted, “he’s adorable.”

  Bodie left around eleven o’clock and Hana tried to settle in the big, empty four-poster bed. She spent half an hour reading her bible, scanning the trials of King David, which read like an adventure story.

  She snuggled under the covers and prayed for a while, settling her soul and trusting a much higher power with control over her circumstances. But she couldn’t sleep. Hana got up, padded to the kitchen and put the kettle on again. It was still warm and took no time at all to boil.

  Hana finally managed to get to sleep around four in the morning, when she was too exhausted to stay awake. She woke again at six thirty, the alarm on her mobile phone singing her awake. The room seemed darker than usual and Hana groped blindly for the phone in confusion. Switching on the lights in the ceiling of the bed she saw the gentle folds of the rich cream floor length curtains, cascading down to her right. She lay back and stared at them. “Not bad, Hana. Not bad at all.”

  The drapes looked good in the half-light and she hoped daylight wouldn’t diminish the feeling of satisfaction she felt at the sight of the creamy swags.

  Her arms ached from heaving the sewing machine out of the cupboard next to the garage at midnight and carrying it upstairs. She sat at the kitchen table with her many swags of material and sewed for hours. Her limited skills forced her to stick to a simple rectangular pattern topped off with header tape. The biggest decision had been which room to start with. Knowing she would eventually have to sleep, Hana selected the cream fabric which matched the paint work in her bedroom, wanting Logan to have somewhere to rest comfortably when he got home. She measured, cut and sewed until the very early hours.

  Once she started a project, Hana found it hard to stop and she was standing on a bedroom chair hanging them at three forty-five that morning. She was dog-tired and errors crept in, fortunately masked by the lining material. Her sewing expert mother would have been anguished at the machined hem, which she always maintained should be hand sewn. Dying just after Bodie was born spared the beautiful Judith the agony of ever seeing them. “Oh Mum,” Hana sighed as she admired her handiwork. “I hope you would have been proud of me. I’m sure you would have ignored my mistakes.” A heaviness settled on Hana’s heart. “All of my mistakes.”

  The curtains were sumptuous and generously wide, meaning they hung well. They met in the middle, a feat in itself and although the hemming was a little irregular, they were the same level at the bottom where they joined when closed.

  Although exhausted, Hana felt smug when she pulled the curtains back after her shower and enjoyed the way the curtain and lining were neatly joined. “As long as nobody looks too hard at the odd hemming at the bottom, I should get away with it,” she smirked.

  Hana set off down to the hospital early, hoping to get a good park and avoid the multi-storey car park. She understood she would have to leave after doctor’s rounds and go back at the proper visiting time again. Parking the car she experienced a rush of adrenaline that came after too little sleep, as her body compensated for the lack of energy in its own way. It was an optimistic kind of energy, chemical in origin and not based on her feelings about her pitiful circumstances. So Hana arrived at the ward, bubbly, happy and full of good cheer to be greeted by a dour-faced receptionist, who point-blank refused to let her in. “But Selina promised!” she protested, to no avail.

  Full of a sense of injustice, Hana found herself consigned to the visitors’ room, a small waiting room with ripped sofas and a TV stuck on the Documentary Channel.

  “I’ll check with Selina when I see her,” the receptionist promised. “But I don’t think she would have asked you to come in early. It’s against the rules.”

  “But she did,” Hana protested. “I’m not lying!”

  Hana saw the Doctor arrive and then begin to leave, without her being invited onto the ward. She was not in the best humour when she saw him and his little entourage of students heading towards the lifts. On a whim fuelled by exhaustion and annoyance, Hana ran after him.

  Doctor Singh was at first irritated by being bowled up to and then cross when Hana explained why she was there. Eventually, he sent his companions onto the next ward to await him and kindly sat with her in the visitors’ room to talk a
bout Logan for a few moments. It was clear he was busy, yet he gave her his unconditional attention regardless. Hana found out what she wanted to know.

  “Logan sustained broken ribs which punctured his spleen and caused a bleed. He needed open surgery to remove his spleen and was given vaccinations against things which his spleen protected him from and now can’t. Some infection is showing and the antibiotic is to counteract that. I’ve prescribed them orally, for the next ten days. The drains will being removed this morning and as Logan is now drinking enough and his bloods seem ok, the drip will to be taken away also.”

  The man’s Indian accent was familiar to Hana and it soothed and comforted her. She spelled out her suspicion and the doctor smiled. “He’s threatening to discharge himself.”

  “I know he is,” he agreed, “he’s not a good patient. He’s healing as well as expected for someone with his condition. If you’re willing to take responsibility for him, I can let him go, but you must be prepared for relapse, in which case he will be readmitted.”

  Hana felt overwhelmed with gratitude when the doctor kindly patted her hand. She still wanted to push the nurse out of the eighth-floor window, but the doctor went some way towards restoring her faith in medical staff. He stood to go, turning back as he got to the door. “Oh, that cast on his arm is dreadful. They need to redo it before he goes. I’ve written a script for pain relief for it, so make sure they give it to you before you leave.”

  “Doctor!” Hana called suddenly, halting him half way through the exit, “What do you mean with his condition? Do you mean the spleen thing? Or something else?”

  The doctor looked at her for a moment as though considering something. Then he shook his head and smiled. “Talk to your husband, Mrs Du Rose.”

  With a wave, he was gone. Selina passed the room a couple of times as Hana sat with the doctor and appeared like a genie, the instant he stepped into the lift. Hana drew herself up to her full height. “I drove in all the way from Huntly this morning because you told me I could,” she began, jabbing her finger towards the lift. “If that nice doctor hadn’t bothered to sit with me, it would have been a complete waste of time!”