by Bowes, K T
“But it’s not decorated,” Hana protested, embarrassed by the half-renovated walls and lack of curtains.
“It’ll do,” Liza retorted and Hana heard her stilettos clipping down the hallway. She feared momentarily for the dents they would make in the lovingly restored rimu floor boards.
“Oh, I don’t care anymore,” Hana muttered to the wide-eyed spotted cat. “It’s the least of my worries right now.”
Bodie turned lights on and filled the kettle. Tiger wound himself around Bo’s legs, purring and meowing loudly. His old friend didn’t disappoint him, quickly locating the sack of kibbles and filling his bowl. Tiger got down to his chow and stopped being ‘Mr Lovable’ once he got what he wanted. Hana didn’t have the energy to care that her cat looked old and overweight. She slumped down at the kitchen table knowing he only looked like she felt. “Oh, God,” she whispered, trying not to notice the sticky blob from Logan’s honey-on-toast, which evaded the hurried clear up when they left for work that morning. It seemed like such a long time ago.
Liza appeared in the doorway. She had changed into casual clothes and Hana was relieved to see slipper-socks on her feet. Bodie plonked the old brown teapot down on the table and set three mugs and a milk jug down. Liza snatched one up. “Don’t you have anything stronger?”
Bodie snooped in the cupboard Hana pointed to and emerged with a re-corked bottle of red wine and the dusty remnants of some cooking sherry. Liza poured herself a black tea and then held her hand out for the sherry, adding a sizeable glug into it. It smelled disgusting and Hana felt sure she saw sediment floating around on the top. Liza took a slurp and Hana noticed Bodie trying not to wince as he spotted the fragments in the bottom of the bottle. The lawyer swallowed without comment and then turned to Hana. And smiled.
Hana’s reaction was surprise. For when she smiled, Liza Du Rose lost the hard edges and became a beautiful woman. It was uncanny how much like her mother, Miriam she looked just then, grey eyes burning out of olive toned skin. She was exceptionally pretty. “I’ll get him out,” she said confidently, “I always get them out.”
Hana choked on her tea, wondering whether Liza meant Logan and his family or people in general. Maybe this wasn’t a new thing for the Du Roses. She decided, probably wisely, not to ask.
“The victim regained consciousness as I was leaving the station,” Liza added, “so they were going to talk to him before coming back to Logan. He’s adamant he never touched the guy, by the way.” Liza looked at Hana over her mug, “I’m not saying my brother can’t take care of himself, but coming up on someone from behind isn’t his style. He’d happily fight him if he felt it warranted it, but not cosh him on the head with a hard object. They think it was a block of wood.”
“Block of wood?” Hana repeated, feeling a little gormless and rather sick at the thought of someone hitting the poor German exchange teacher so hard, he collapsed.
Liza nodded. “There were splinters in the wound. Wood can be quite hard to get prints from, but Logan didn’t touch it. He didn’t even see it, so it should be fine. Unless...”
Hana latched immediately onto her conjecture. “Unless what?”
“Unless the wood was from somewhere else on the property, like the garage where Logan still has some gear and if he had inadvertently touched it when he lived there. Then we might be stuffed. The prints would be old, but still present.”
Hana let out an audible sigh but Liza, used to other people’s misery in her line of work, merely finished her drink, scraped her chair back from the table and left the room. She paused in the doorway. “I’m pushing off to bed now. If anything changes, they’ll call me and I’ll go. They can only keep him for twenty-four hours while they get their evidence together, unless they see a judge. It’s all circumstantial for now. I can’t imagine they’ll wake him up in the night when they’ve got all of tomorrow morning.”
Her confidence started to buoy Hana up. Maybe it was all a giant misunderstanding and he would be home before lunchtime. But then Liza’s parting shot left her feeling hopeless again. “Pity the idiot threatened the victim in front of witnesses. I thought he knew better than that.” She looked at Hana with something like scorn, her eyes sparkling with the invigoration of the challenge. “It must be your influence. You’ve made my bro’ soft.” Then she flounced off to the bedroom she had picked.
Bodie seemed lost for words, shaking his head until Liza’s door closed with a click. “Pity you don’t have a coffin for her to stand upright in all night.” he smirked. Hana laid her forearms down on the table and let her head fall onto them, misery and despair washing over her.
Hana shuffled off to bed after Bodie let himself out of the property, locking up carefully behind him. She washed and changed in the bathroom and was in bed in very little time. But sleep wouldn’t come. The baby tossed and turned, picking up on her stress and making it even harder to settle. Around midnight, she began to wonder if part of the problem was hunger, as she hadn’t eaten properly since the spoonful of soup.
Finally, Hana conceded defeat and wandered down to the kitchen without putting any lights on. A faint glow came from under Liza’s bedroom door, but it was the flickering light of a laptop. Hana wondered if she had fallen asleep with it on and debated whether to knock on the door or not. She paused momentarily and then decided not to. Any respite from Liza should be counted a blessing.
Hana shut the kitchen door and flicked on the light above the new hob. It was a halogen spotlight which Logan recently changed for a brighter bulb and Hana was grateful for its cheerful, undemanding brightness. She didn’t feel like the exposure the overhead lights would bring. Boiling the kettle she made tea, ratching around in the cupboard for biscuits she remembered her husband buying only a few days ago. She handled the packet gently, remembering it in his scarred fingers and wondering how she could stop feeling so utterly desolate. Shades of a familiar grief rose from inside. It was the same emotion which overwhelmed her once before, when her previous husband left for work and returned in his coffin.
Hana gave herself a stiff talking to. Logan was temporarily indisposed. No way would he hurt Boris, even if Boris did betray my whereabouts to the thugs. Hana prayed her husband would be home tomorrow. The baby jabbed her with a particularly sharp kick as if to remind her it was there. Hana rubbed her hand delicately over her swollen belly, pleased after all she was not entirely alone.
The mail nestled in a pile on the counter where Bodie laid it earlier. Hana munched on a gingernut, trying to catch the crumbs in her hand. She prodded the envelopes with her cast, tutting as crumbs fell onto the pile. The plaster covering irritated her arm with a horrid flesh-creeping itch which wouldn’t be satisfied by scratching, even if she could get to it. Hana concentrated on the letters, trying to distract herself. Some were bills addressed to her and one was a teaching union letter for Logan. Her heart fluttered with fear, grateful for Angus not telling the board of trustees until he heard from Logan’s lawyer. He was a kind man; he didn’t have to spare Logan at all.
Hana finished her biscuit and swept the crumbs off the surface into her other hand, dropping them into the sink and washing her hand without wetting the cast. The tea towel lay on the counter and she grabbed it, knocking one of the envelopes onto the floor. The bigger her stomach got, the further away the floorboards seemed to become, so she sighed as she bent at the knees to retrieve it.
It was a plain, white envelope, probably containing a sheet of A4 paper folded into three. Hana peered at the address and then huffed with exasperation. “How many more times?” she groaned, peering at the addressee. CircleLine Holdings Ltd. Four similar letters were put back into the postal system within the last month and Hana wrote on them all in bold letters, ‘Not at this address.’ Yet here was another one. She was sorely tempted to open it but stopped herself. “No, don’t risk it,” she muttered out loud, figuring her family was already in enough trouble.
A sound behind made Hana turn quickly. Liza stood in the doorway. She
still looked immaculate, as though she hadn’t even attempted to sleep yet. Hana wore a tatty old work shirt of Logan’s and a pair of his socks. She congratulated herself silently for having put on knickers before coming down to the kitchen as the shirt only just covered her bottom. She flapped her good hand ineffectually towards the kettle and then turned sideways to flick it back on to boil, at the same time pushing the letter toward the back of the counter.
As she turned, Liza let out an audible gasp and Hana whipped back round, to see the other woman looking shocked. Her eyes fixed firmly on Hana’s rounded abdomen and a look of amazement covered her usually stiff, controlled face. Hana couldn’t read Liza’s expression and stood motionless until her guest moved toward the table and scraped out a chair. Making a decision Hana went back to the cupboard, fetching out cocoa powder one-handed and retrieving the biscuits. She pushed the biscuits in front of Liza. “I’ll make hot chocolate. It might help us both to sleep,” she sighed.
Hana set about boiling milk in a saucepan on the hob. It bought her time to think as she stirred in the chocolate and picked at a loose strand on the end of her plaster cast, noting how good she was becoming one-handed. By the time she carefully placed the steaming mug of hot chocolate down in front of Liza, Hana conceded that she was no nearer knowing how to handle this formidable sister-in-law, than she had ever been.
Liza kept her head down, sipping her drink as she asked quietly, “When’s your baby due?”
“January,” Hana replied, keeping her voice level.
Liza looked up at her through slitted eyes. “Is that why you got married?”
Hana felt insulted and bridled with indignation in her eyes, at the same time realising it was a natural conclusion to come to. “No,” she answered, trying not to grit her teeth, reaching subconsciously down to stroke her bump, “it was a little wedding gift.”
Liza looked as though she didn’t believe her and Hana wondered why it bothered her so much what this intimidating woman thought of her. She wished for the millionth time that Logan was there to have this conversation and not her. Realising that she could never win with Liza, Hana pushed her chair back and got up. Without a word she returned to her bed and to her surprise, slept soundly until the alarm went off.
Hana showered quickly, managing alone to get a plastic bag over her cast and surprised to find the water already warm and traces of it on the floor. When she got down to the kitchen to grab some toast, she found Liza there, her laptop open on the table. The kettle was hot and she drank black coffee. “I hope you didn’t laced it with sherry,” Hana joked. “I was planning to ask for a ride into town.” The thought of fighting one-handed with Logan’s old truck in the garage didn’t fill her with any enthusiasm.
Liza looked indignant at Hana’s joke. “Of course I bloody didn’t! I’m leaving now.”
The atmosphere between the women was fraught and crackled with unsaid barbs as Hana fled to the bedroom to grab her handbag. Catching a glimpse at her reflection in the bedroom mirror made her pause and bite her lip. Something in Hana had rebelled as she stood in front of the wardrobe and she wore a pair of black leggings, low heeled patent boots and a tight cream jumper, which reached down to just above her knees. The ensemble hugged her body shape from top to bottom. She was most definitely overweight or pregnant, her belly poking prominently through where the belt should have been. “I don’t care!” she told her reflection. The gentle kicks and jabs reminded her constantly she was needed. “I’m not done yet; I still have plenty of love to give. Starting now.”
Despite Liza’s threat of leaving, Hana waited patiently by the front door for the other woman to shut down her laptop and pack her gear into a big black bag. Being ready first gave her confidence and some element of superiority. Whilst acknowledging how fragile and superfluous that was, Hana clung to the momentary feeling of one-up-man-ship. Climbing into Liza’s luxurious car, Hana resisted the urge to babble compliments, sitting quietly, offering directions once they got to the outskirts of town. Liza spat her out in the front car park with a squeal of tires and a flick of her hair. No goodbye.
Exposed in her revealing jumper, Hana’s confidence left and she felt naked. Her body seemed to betray her by yelling out to anyone who looked in her direction, ‘Look, I’ve been having great sex.’ Hana figuratively shoved a rod up her back, squared her shoulders and marched purposefully across the front of the school and into the reception area. There were boys outside the front of the building, lounging around on the steps. They moved for her but if they noticed her altered body, made no comment. Teenage boys had other things of interest, which didn’t include pregnant women of a certain age. A tennis ball or rude message on Facebook were far more interesting.
Inside the building however, was a different matter. The receptionist immediately noticed the rounded stomach on the redhead who worked upstairs. Her jaw dropped and Hana knew that the news would work its way steadily around the staff over the course of the morning. She tried not to care whether the gossip was that she was pregnant or had been overindulging in pies. If they were talking about her, perhaps Logan’s current circumstance would fly under the radar. As long as he came home quickly.
Hana was quiet and subdued as she got on with her work. Something told her once released; Logan would insist she went straight up to the family hotel in the mountains. If Boris told Laval where she lived, there was nowhere safe for her to go. She needed the Expo to be completely ready and able to go ahead without her presence if necessary. Sheila bustled about, happily unaware of her assistant’s agony. “I can’t believe it. This year, despite the days still to go, everything’s practically done.”
Apart from Pete, nobody else seemed aware of Logan’s predicament. “Apart from Gwynne!” Pete stage whispered in Hana’s ear, spraying her with foul smelling spit. “And he’s one crazy dude. He won’t tell anyone.”
At a lull in activity and finding herself alone, Hana risked calling the hospital and asking after Boris. They wouldn’t tell her anything more than that he was ‘stable and progressing as expected.’ Hana bought a custard slice from the tuck shop for lunch, having neglected to bring anything from home. She bought one each for Sheila, Pete and Rory on a whim, which they enjoyed immensely. But then Hana couldn’t eat hers.
Pete gave Hana quite a wide berth, asking only once after lunch if she had heard anything. But Rory came back in from the common room at that exact moment, allowing Hana only a sad shake of her head. Pete patted her hard on the back, causing her to spill tea onto the notices she had just printed. He meant well.
At four-thirty, Hana began to worry about getting home again and contemplated ringing Bodie. Deciding to text him instead, she reached into her bottom desk drawer for her mobile phone. A tender hand on her shoulder caused her to look round, her phone falling back into the drawer. “Logan!” Her voice caught in a sob of relief.
Logan stood in front of her. He looked exhausted. His face was stubbled with beard growth and his hair needed a good comb. He wore yesterday’s clothes which Hana knew would pain his dreadfully compulsive nature and he smelled faintly of sweat.
“Oh thank God!” Hana threw herself into his arms and hugged him tightly. Logan held her for a long time, breathing in deep gulps of her scent, enjoying being able to touch and hold her. He seemed reluctant to let go and Hana kept her arms entwined around his strong body until the broken one started to ache. Eventually, she tore herself away and Logan sank heavily into her chair, pulling her down to sit on his knee.
School had been over for more than an hour and Hana heard the cleaning staff vacuuming the senior common room. She knew they would have to move but for now, she just wanted to be with her husband. She kissed him, but he pulled away. “I couldn’t clean my teeth; I’ve only had a mint out of the car.” He looked distressed, hating his dishevelled state.
“You got the car back?” Hana asked him, gently stroking his cheek.
He nodded. If it hadn’t been ok, she felt sure he would have told her,
so she left the irrelevant question unasked. Hana was desperate to ask him what happened, but something warned her she would be better to wait. She rested her chin on Logan’s shoulder while leaning behind him, pressing keys on her computer keyboard and shutting the machine down for the night. Retrieving her handbag from the drawer and locking the various filing cabinets, Hana was quickly ready to leave. She led her tired husband out of the door, locking it carefully behind her.
As he followed her down the front stairs, Hana saw Logan notice her tight jumper and a slight smirk cross his lips. She was momentarily fearful he was laughing at her, but when she stared back up at him, she was gratified to feel him grasp her hand and squeeze. “I love you,” he said. At that moment she felt as though she could battle anything, the three of them against the world.
They passed through the empty reception and were almost free, when Hana heard Angus call her name from his office doorway. She was tempted to fake deafness, as a glance at Logan showed he genuinely hadn’t heard, but Angus had already been kinder than he needed to be and so she halted and looked back at him. He raised his eyebrows at her in question and as Logan stopped on the steps outside to wait for her, she put on her brightest, happiest smile and said clearly, “Everything’s absolutely fine, thank you, Angus.”
Then she bolted out the door and down the steps, catching up to her husband and urging him into a brisk walk by grabbing hold of his arm and hauling him through the courtyard. Logan seemed more than willing to go, wrapping his arm gently round Hana’s waist and kissing her on the side of her face as they escaped. “I’m too knackered to drive.” Logan handed Hana the Honda keys and climbed into the passenger seat. Hana bit her lip and flexed her broken arm, realising he had forgotten her injury.
“It’ll have to be ok,” she concluded, seeing Logan lay his head back against the seat in exhaustion. Hana leapt into the driver’s seat as quickly as her rounded stomach would allow and managing one-handed and illegally, they sped out of the school grounds and up the road north, before Angus finished locking up the heavy front doors of the school.