by Bowes, K T
When she did take a peek at her husband, she was alarmed by the state of him. He struggled to compose himself and looked as though he might cry. When he moved it was to run his hand across his face and through his hair nervously, his brow creased in unreadable emotion. Hana felt sorry for him. She put both arms around his neck and hugged him close into her, feeling the tension begin to release. Logan slipped his warm hands underneath her shirt and stroked the soft skin of her back, needing the physical contact. “I can’t believe it,” he whispered eventually. “I’m going to be a dad.”
Miriam smiled and clucked happily at them when she returned to the kitchen to fetch tea things for her new arrivals in the hallway. Logan looked at his mother, but Hana quickly pulled him round to face her, issuing a warning by shaking her head at him. It was way too early to tell anyone about this. She needed time and space to sort out her head before everyone else became involved. It was already messy enough without that.
“How are you feeling now?” asked Michael as he sauntered into the kitchen.
“Fine thanks,” Hana smiled at him, “but Logan’s got a cut.” She successfully distracted her brother-in-law and he set about getting a plaster to stop the bleeding.
“Awesome. You don’t usually let me near you.” Michael peered at Logan’s finger, smirking at the grim look on his brother’s face.
“It’s fine, it’s stopping.” Logan tried to drag his hand away but Michael held onto it. The men eyeballed each other in a way that was not friendly and Hana watched in alarm. The moment passed. “Factor 8 deficiency,” Michael stated blandly, wrapping the plaster around Logan’s finger. “Stop wriggling you baby, it needs to be tight for a little while.”
At the sink, Miriam stopped washing a saucepan, her body rigid as she stared out of the window. Hana had some of Logan’s blood on her hand and went over to wash it off with the soap, but Miriam was in the way and wouldn’t move.
“Excuse me,” Hana said, feeling awkward. Miriam’s face, when Hana looked harder was white and pinched, her eye sockets grey.
“My Barry had it.” The statement came out loudly, causing Logan and Michael to stop and look hard at her. “My Barry had it! It killed him. Not him - he’s fine,” she pointed at Logan. “He doesn’t have it. He can’t have it. Just stop talking about it! It’s not true.”
It was almost a shout and as they all stared open mouthed at her, Miriam rushed from the room, wrenching the heavy fire door open with a mighty strength. Hana made as though to go after her but was stopped by Michael, putting his hand on her arm as she passed. “It’s all about bloody Barry,” he said resentfully, “it’s best if you leave her to it.”
Hana looked to Logan for confirmation and he nodded once in agreement. His eyes were bright and happy like shiny grey pebbles, glinting and sparkling in the sunshine which touched only him. His mind was plainly elsewhere. Hana made her excuses and left the kitchen. She had no desire to stay in the mad Du Rose domain, but tiredness was descending on her again and she wanted to lie down. She had no idea where Miriam and Alfred’s room was and figured the men were right and their mother was best left. But she pitied her own husband, alive with the genetic disease while Miriam mourned the grave child, long since passed beyond its grip. It explained why Logan’s condition was never given proper care as a boy. His mother wouldn’t acknowledge he was a hemophiliac.
As she lay peaceful and sleepy on Logan’s childhood bed, Hana remembered suddenly what Dr Singh’s leaflets told her about the disease being passed down the female line and wondered if she struck at the root cause of Miriam’s deepest sadness. Guilt could destroy even the most robust of souls.
Later that night, Logan rang Bodie and asked him to check on the house and feed the cat. He also asked him to nip next door to Maihi and give her a key and the burglar alarm code. “Maybe don’t do it in uniform though, aye?” he suggested. Logan said nothing about the enormous, overwhelming feeling of hope inside his chest or the reason for his joviality. He said he and Hana decided on a whim to go to the hotel and were staying over. Bodie didn’t ask questions, accepting the responsibility with good cheer and promised to take Jas over with him. Logan knew that would mean they went home to strange wilted flowers and odd bits of pebble on their pillows, but smiled at the generous giving nature of his new step-grandson.
Miriam appeared red-eyed to make dinner, saying little to anyone but cheered slightly when Logan asked if they could stay for the night. “Stay as long as you like, son. You know you don’t have to ask. Here, take some kai up for your hoa wahine.”
She put food on a plate for Hana, who slept right through the meal. When Logan took the tray of mashed potatoes and sausage up to his wife, he found her awake and his brother sat in a chair talking to her. Logan stiffened as he entered the room and Michael clapped him on the shoulder before tactfully leaving.
“He was only checking my pulse and blood pressure and stuff,” Hana said, sensing the tension. Her voice was low and groggy and she still looked sleepy.
“It’s the ‘and stuff’ I’m worried about,” Logan said lightly, but Hana ignored it, choosing not to go there and open up another can of wriggling, festering worms.
Logan sat on the bed next to her and put his arm around her and Hana snuggled into his sweater, wanting to sleep some more. He made her eat some of the food, which was delicious but it was late and she found it hard to eat too much. “I’ve got no clothes or anything,” Hana said when Logan suggested they stayed. He smirked and kissed her neck seductively, but she pushed him away giggling, “Not just for night time, but for tomorrow.” A thought occurred to her suddenly. “Hey, can I ride with you tomorrow, up to your favourite paddock?”
Logan let go of her and looked back at her astounded. “No! Absolutely not!”
Hana stared, knowing where he was going with it and shook her head vehemently. “Oh no, you don’t! Don’t you dare wrap me in cotton wool, Logan Du Rose! I am going to do everything I want to do and this…” she pointed to her stomach, “is not going to stop me!”
Logan seemed to flounder, not knowing what to say to his determined wife. He was torn between wanting to spend the next eight months cosseting her, keeping her safe and letting her live her life as she wanted. Out in front of him spilled countless arguments still to come as yet unspoken and he shook his head. “Just let me ask Michael?” he begged.
Hana was not to be placated. “No!” she answered angrily “I’m not telling anyone, not until twelve weeks at least. He hasn’t asked and I believe he won’t. And until then, I do what I want and if this baby isn’t strong enough to hold on until then, then there wasn’t much hope for it in the first place.” Hana’s words were cruel and she knew it. Logan looked devastated. “I’m sorry Logan,” she said more gently, “but I was never one of those women who laid down and died when they were pregnant and counted the days until the parasite was gone. Izzie and Bodie were fine.”
Logan smiled wistfully, trying to be tactful, “But you were half the age you are now.”
Hana realised he was probably right but sulked anyway. There were so many things going around in her head. Elizabeth had Down Syndrome. It hadn’t even occurred to Logan that being older, the likelihood for Hana’s pregnancy was even higher and this baby would probably first have to survive an amniocentesis. There was an immovable blockage in Hana’s heart where the child was concerned and she wondered subconsciously if she was trying to force the issue and see how she dealt with a threat to it. Maybe Hana was trying to make herself feel something, even knowing she couldn’t afford to get too attached to it for her own sake, not yet.
She pouted and sulked and refused to budge, eventually managing to get her own way by using her devious female wiles while Logan was at his most vulnerable, with his shirt off and her lips on his warm skin. After all, it was what got Hana into the mess in the first place. Her husband was enthralled with the thought of the little life he had created and feared for it with an intensity he never thought he possessed. Hana becam
e an even more cherished thing and revelled in his wonder and amazement at her.
It was both primitive and hilarious and she used it to her advantage while it lasted, bending him easily to her will at every opportunity until it began to become evident to the rest of the family something was different. Michael barely hid his smirk as Logan fetched Hana another cup of tea at the breakfast table next morning, but looked surprised as they rose to leave and he noticed Hana was wearing an old pair of Liza’s jodhpurs. “Are you riding out?” he asked Hana quietly, “Do you think…”
His question was silenced by the glare she gave him and the warning look which quickly followed. He decided to stay out of it, shrugging as he went back to his toast. When Hana went out to the stables with Logan it was to find Jack holding a small, stocky bay pony. She narrowed her eyes as she looked across at her husband, but he deliberately ignored her. “Where’s Digger?” she asked, looking around for the Appaloosa she favoured. Logan shrugged and refused to look at her.
Jack helped Hana’s reluctant backside into the saddle, slapping the side of the pony’s neck affectionately. He gave her the thumbs up and nodded enthusiastically, telling her with his eyes she would be fine. Logan mounted up and they set off towards the gate and the hill up to the bush. Once alongside him, Hana felt ridiculous, sitting so much smaller than he did on his large stock horse. “How big is this pony?” she asked in disgust. He didn’t look at her but answered casually,
“Big enough. And very solid and safe. Nobody’s ever fallen off her.”
“You use her for the kid’s treks, don’t you?” Hana was irritated. She leaned down to see how far her feet were from the ground. “I didn’t need Jack’s help to mount, I could have just swung my leg over from the floor!”
Logan ignored his wife but smiled victoriously to himself. Leaning down, he stroked the furry forehead with a white blaze running through it. The little pony snorted contentedly and picked her feet up as they went through the second gate and into the bush. As the ride progressed, Hana conceded Logan was right. The pony was exceptionally safe and easy to ride. She knew the bush like the back of her tiny hooves and picked her way through the undergrowth easily. They trotted a couple of times, but Logan made it impossible to canter by choosing the densest route to the lookout.
Hana was pleased to be outside in the clean fresh air, so settled down and behaved. At the lookout, she used the same spot as before for the toilet, coming back to where Logan had tethered the horses and laying down next to him. “Remember the last time we came up here?” she asked him lazily. He nodded in reply, kissing her and beginning to undo the button on her jodhpurs.
They stayed out for most of the morning, arriving back hungry and tired. Michael gave Logan antibiotics from his copious medical bag. “Now your wife can stop worrying about your guts falling out,” he joked. “Oops, too late.”
Logan shoved at his brother but the action was no light hearted. Hana grabbed her husband’s hand. “I’ve grown attached to that pony,” she commented. “Carla. I wonder why she’s called that. She liked me grooming her, didn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Logan replied stiffly.
“How come you’re not riding Sacha?” Hana asked as they crested the stairs.
Logan humphed. “Nobody told me the Appaloosa stallion got out. He had a bit of fun with the stock horses back in November, it seems. She’s in foal, but I’ve put her on light work. I could have ridden her, but it’s a bit far up there really. She needs her energy.”
He glanced across at his wife and Hana felt irritation creeping up her spine, even though he hadn’t actually rebuked her. If this was how it was going to be for the next eight months, she was going to be a basket case. Logan noticed her body tense and felt guilty for pressuring her. He tried to lighten the moment, chasing her into the bedroom and making her squeal. She pushed him backwards onto the bed and jumped on top of him, remembering his stitches too late and having to sit next to him for a few moments while the pain subsided. He laughed it off as usual, but it was enough to make her forget she was upset with him.
Arriving at the kitchen in the hope of food with their arms wrapped happily around each other, both were dismayed to see Tama sitting at the table. Hana stopped in her tracks at the open doorway, almost letting it go in Logan’s face and her body stiffened. Logan was more casual, nodding to him in an offhand way and trying not to react to the vivid black eye which marked the young man’s face. Hana’s appetite left the room and making an excuse, she followed after it, back up to Logan’s bedroom to change into her own jeans and shirt.
She lay on the bed upstairs and analysed her feelings towards Tama, wondering where he had managed to score the black eye. She wondered if Anka had gotten sick of his pestering and clocked him one with her handbag as Hana had done. The incident in the hospital seemed like a lifetime ago. Her hand strayed to her stomach, realising she had probably been pregnant back then. She wondered what this tiny child thought of its mother, whacking someone with a handbag. She must have conceived almost the minute they got married. Hardly surprising with a husband like mine! Hana thought to herself, thinking of all the various romps the last month witnessed.
Despite her innate desire not to bond with the baby in case it had no future, Hana found herself deciding it was probably a girl. With Bodie, she wasn’t dreadfully sick or unwell for at least the first five months, blissfully unaware of her pregnancy. With Izzie, it had been different. She hauled herself to lectures feeling permanently shattered and sick as a dog at points. She also suffered the tell-tale fainting fits which punctuated the first trimester leaving her drained and tired. Something to do with the oestrogen increase with little girls, a midwife told her.
“Old wives tales,” the doctor scoffed, but the midwife was right and her baby girl popped out squalling and healthy. Hana imagined Logan holding his own little girl, playing with her in the park, showing her how to ride her bike…Hana stopped herself before she got carried away. It was a pleasant thought but tinged with fear and persistent what ifs for her.
She forced her mind to return to the hand-bagging she gave Tama, distracting herself from a dangerous reverie. Something about the incident nagged at the back of her brain, but she couldn’t lay hold of it properly. A sense of something was forming, but she needed time to let it come to the forefront of her consciousness. Hana lay peacefully on the bed and prayed. She prayed for clarity of thought, but also for her unborn child and asked despite her recently wayward journey, the God of Hope would listen to her and bless her anyway.
Hana was tired after the ride and slept fitfully for a lot of the afternoon, waking groggy and disoriented near teatime, horrified she slept the day away. She found a luke-warm cup of tea on the bedside table, which either Miriam or Logan left there and she drank it quickly, trying to pretend it wasn’t as cold as it tasted. There was a small portable TV in the corner of the room and she got up and turned it on, removing her jeans and crawling under the duvet to warm up. Someone covered her in a blanket while she slept but the room had grown cold and she inadvertently kicked the cover off.
Hana snuggled down into the expensive sheets and deep pillows, rested her cheek on her hand and dozed a little more. A quiet knock on the door admitted Michael, who put his head around and asked if it was ok he came in. Only Hana’s head poked above the sheet and she nodded, reluctant to break the peace that enfolded her. “How do you feel now?”
“I’m ok, thanks.” Michael seemed satisfied with that. “Thanks for helping me,” she said, feeling the sentence was a little lame to say the least.
He smiled and patted her hand. There was a sadness about him she hadn’t noticed before, a hunger for something ethereal and Hana found herself feeling sorry for him. “You know…” he began, “I really envy Logan right now. He has everything I ever wanted. Stick it out, Hana. Make it work. He deserves it, he really does.”
Hana didn’t say anything and he turned to go. “Why did you take Caroline from him?” she asked, suddenly needi
ng to know. Michael stood still and thought about the question for so long Hana assumed he wasn’t going to answer. She turned on her front and looked at the side of his face, framed by the window. When he looked towards her, it was as though he realised something for himself.
“Because I could. Because she set it up to make him fight for her but he didn’t. I was just a pawn in the big game. Logan and she were never meant to be together. It was…” He stopped himself and Hana got the feeling he had almost betrayed some big plan. The sensation passed as Michael nodded slowly to himself, adding, “I don’t think he ever forgave me. Caroline was pregnant and had an abortion without even giving me a chance. Logan didn’t get over it. He left for England shortly after and didn’t come back for years. He once told me he would have settled even for my child. He would have accepted it. But it was too late. I know now it was you he wanted; it’s so obvious in hindsight. ‘The girl on the train’ – he told me about seeing you when he got back to the hotel in London. He was never the same again; you affected him somehow. He was always looking for you, everywhere we went. He didn’t want to get on the plane home. I didn’t know you were pregnant that day. I thought you were just there, just another pretty passenger. Mum told me after your party she remembered you.”
Michael ran his hand around his collar as though it was getting too tight, “We fought again after he found out about Tama. I think it reminded him of what Caroline did. Life really sucks sometimes.” Michael’s eyes fixed hard on Hana’s. She lay on her stomach, her hair cascading around her shoulders and tried not to move lest she break the spell that compelled her brother-in-law to share secrets. “I don’t know why he got back with Caroline when he came home,” Michael said, “I think maybe he settled for familiarity. He looked like he’d given up some dream, he was…numb. It was wicked what she did to him, jilting him like that…” he leaned forward, his eyes intense and Hana held her breath, “but if you and this child is what he got in exchange, then it was worth every second of agony.”