by Bowes, K T
The principal stood on the steps for a moment and watched the pair speed off, relieved his phone call to the board of trustees could at least wait for one more night.
Logan slept in the car on the way home, waking up only when the gates clanged shut behind them and the Honda strained at the hill. Reaching the house, Hana was alarmed to find lights on in the hall and they unlocked the front door with caution. The alarm was deactivated and soft singing came from the kitchen.
Hana relaxed as she recognised the voice, walking in on their Māori neighbour, Maihi, taking a joint of beef out of the oven. “Hey tamariki,” she welcomed them, “just a wee thank you for letting my boy use your paddock for grazing. I've done a roast for youse.”
Hana could have cried with gratitude and Logan looked like he wanted to join her. “Gosh Maihi, you’re amazing!” she breathed. Hana crossed the room and hugged the woman with genuine affection. Logan smiled and gave a tired wave before heading off to the bedroom. Within minutes, Hana heard the bathroom door shut and water running through the pipes. Plainly he was desperate to wash the experience away as quickly as possible.
Hana began explaining to Maihi what had happened over the past twenty-four hours but as usual, Maihi tapped the side of her nose. “Maihi already knows what’s goin’ on, girlie. I have my spies.”
It seemed that one of her vast whanau had already filled her in on the details. It was like a huge web of information that all filtered back to Maihi in the centre. Hana shook her head in disbelief. “How can you know so much stuff all the time? Surely there are some places your cousins can’t go?”
“Na, kōtiro. We get everywhere.”
“I think you should change your surname to Wikipedia,” Hana remarked and Maihi laughed.
“Na, he’s my cuzzie.” The old lady crinkled her weathered face into a smile. “We look after our own,” she said with sincerity and kissed Hana on the cheek. “Now, old Maihi needs to go home and leave youse two lovebirds to sort out yer problems in peace.” She hugged Hana, grabbed her coat and boots from the hallway and left.
Her words gave Hana a feeling of profound safety and acceptance and she still basked in the warm glow of it when her husband, showered and smelling unmistakably of soap and deodorant, returned to the kitchen, ravenous for more than just food.
Du Rose Legacy
Chapter 4
They ate comfortably and without conversation. Hana’s arm was sore after using it to drive and sat with the cast stretched out on the table, eating one-handed. Logan reached out and gently cupped her exposed fingers in his big hand, needing contact with her after the enforced absence. So they both ate one-handed, the meat was tender and the vegetables dainty and beautifully crisped.
“I think we should move in with Maihi,” Logan said eventually as he scooped the last of the potato into his mouth, “or dig a tunnel to her kitchen.” He used his hand to wipe the grease from his lips and chin and then got up to run washing up water and flick the switch on the kettle. Hana tried to be patient. Desperate to ask questions, she knew instinctively he was ordering his thoughts, even as he carefully washed the saucepans Maihi used. Hana ran her hand over her stomach where the baby reacted to the load of food dumped on and around it. It kicked and turned as though in a washing machine.
“I wonder if it’s loud in there,” Hana mused and Logan turned his head to look at her curiously. She pointed to her belly. “All the gurgling and digesting. I wonder if it’s loud.”
“I dunno,” he replied with a shake of his head. “Never thought about it.”
Aware her previous attempts to get Logan to confide in her invariably caused arguments, Hana bit her tongue, instead getting up to help him clear away. She loaded the dishwasher and was rewarded with Logan’s grateful smile. “Liza slept in the back bedroom,” she said conversationally as she tried to retrieve a teaspoon from the floor of the dishwasher without removing the bottom tray. She failed and had to pull the whole tray out and reach in to grab the spoon, without overbalancing and falling in.
“Geez, Hana! Be careful!” Logan caught her round the waist as she reached. Exasperated, Hana threw the spoon in the cutlery tray head first.
“I’m fine, Logan, really. Was she helpful? Liza, I mean. I thought she was a property lawyer.”
Logan looked at her curiously. “Who told you that?”
Hana stood up straight and thought about it. She actually couldn’t remember. The other woman’s officious conversation at their wedding centred solely on what Hana owned and her financial solvency. Hana realised she had assumed. “Actually,” she admitted, “I don’t know. Maybe it’s an idea I got in my head because she was so obsessed with what I owned. Is she not then?”
Logan smiled. “No babe, she’s a top and highly expensive QC. She goes between chambers in Auckland and the High Court in Wellington. She’s a lawyer, but more recently a judge.”
“Oh,” said Hana, feeling foolish and suddenly recalling the ‘judge’ part. “Yeah, maybe I did know that then.”
Logan made a pot of tea, got the cups and spoons together and sat down at the table. “She was amazing,” he began. “She told them all their evidence was circumstantial. The only blood on me was on my hands, where I looked for a pulse and pressed his coat into the wound to stop the bleeding. She said the onus was on them to prove any fingerprints in the house weren’t from when I lived there.”
“But didn’t Boris wake up? Liza said so. He would have said straight away you didn’t do it!”
Logan looked carefully at his wife. “Thanks.” Logan reached for her hand as Hana’s face creased in confusion. “There wasn’t even a hint of doubt in your voice or face. You know I didn’t do it; I’m grateful for your faith in me.” He shook his head with sadness in his grey eyes. “Boris isn’t saying anything. He won’t clear me or implicate anyone else. He’s keeping quiet.”
“Can’t he remember?” asked Hana innocently, but Logan’s shrug filled her heart with foreboding.
“I think Boris can remember perfectly well what kind of trouble he’s in.” His voice was jaded.
Hana put her hand over her mouth. “No, surely he wouldn’t do that to you? How can we prove your innocence?”
Logan shook his head. “Dunno Hana. I’ve been charged and I’m on police bail so I can’t do anything. Liza put up the money - not a lot actually, so they can’t think I’m much of a risk - but I need to stay home and check in with the cops at Ngaruawahia or Hamilton every day.”
Hana’s face paled. “So Angus will suspend you then?”
Logan nodded miserably. “He won’t have a choice. My teaching career’s probably over, you know that?”
Maihi’s lovely roast turned to ash in Hana’s stomach as sickness and fear fought for dominance. Even though it was early, they cleared up, fed Tiger and went to bed. The house felt safe and cosy but outside the darkness was oppressive and threatening. A sense of doom settled on the couple, causing sleeplessness for Hana and disturbance for Logan. He woke numerous times thinking he was back in the bare police cell, constant voices and the clang of heavy doors pervading his sleep. When he sat up with his heart pounding, he found Hana blindly watching the TV. But even into the night when she had settled and all was silent and still, the thoughts continued in his head, convincing him he was out of his depth.
In desperation, he closed his eyes tightly and prayed to Hana’s God for justice, vindication and more than anything, for peace. He must have been heard, for when he lay down again to sleep it was as though he only just shut his eyes and the alarm was sounding, telling them both it was morning.
Hana was the first to move, getting up slowly and groggily. “Oh my goodness. I feel like I was run over by a steamroller in the night,” she complained. She didn’t wake up properly until a blip in the power gave her a cold dousing in the shower. A strange foreboding accompanied her as she put on her make up and went back to the bedroom to get dressed. Logan was already up, moving around making tea and toast which neither of them
could eat. The only one who behaved as normal was Tiger, who scoffed his breakfast as though he had worms.
Logan showered and arrived in the kitchen. “I’ll drive,” he said with a tight smile. Hana guessed he would be paying Angus a painful visit. Taking one last look around the kitchen to make sure she hadn’t forgotten anything, Hana spied the envelope on the side. She snatched it up and kept it in her hand down the steps to the garage. Once in the car she tutted, having not gotten around to writing return to sender on it. “I’ll have to do it at work.”
“What’s that?” asked Logan, reaching over as she tried to stuff it carelessly into her bag.
“I don’t know,” she whinged, “we keep getting them and I keep returning them. You’d think they’d get the message after a few, wouldn’t you?”
Logan glanced down at the address, winced and took the offending envelope. “I’ll deal with it.”
Hana handed it over and Logan folded it and pushed it into his jacket pocket. He glanced sideways at his wife, feeling guilty. More secrets. An old phrase of his grandmother’s danced into his head unbidden, ‘What a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.’ Only he knew it in French, because that was how she always said it. Whatever language it was in, it pretty much summed up his life. Hide the truth. Get caught.
Something told Logan he was sailing too close to the wind. It was only a matter of time before the whole thing piled down around his ears. He wanted Hana and he wanted his child. But first he needed to open some mighty big cupboards and deal with the crap in them. Just not today. Logan put the car into gear and drove down the slope.
Neither of them spoke on the way to work. It was a comfortable silence, each consumed by their own thoughts and vexations. Hana wittered in her head about the Expo and Logan wondered what Angus would say. Actually that wasn’t true. He knew Angus would have to suspend him. It was simply a question of whether Logan could quit before his employer got the opportunity.
Logan drove the simple way to work, mainly because he wasn’t concentrating but also because part of him hoped that by drawing the enemy out, it might end the situation once and for all. He even parked in his regular slot, irritating a student teacher who had bagged the space for herself while he hid the car all over town. Tough, he thought acidly, smiling at her irate face beaking out from behind her windscreen.
Hana felt the antagonism oozing out of Logan and steered clear of him as they walked in through the main doors. Ever the gentleman, Logan held the door open for her. Poor Hana was almost bowled over by two boys who emerged as though Logan was the doorman, pushing past the pregnant woman on the first step and giving her a careless shove. Hands in pockets and heavy rucksacks on their backs, they barged through regardless. Big mistake. Especially this morning. Logan grasped the backs of both of their bags before they even made it past him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”
The unfortunate boys were alarmed and gaped open-mouthed at Logan and each other, realisation slowly dawning. “Get back in there!” Logan shoved them back towards the doorway and then let go as they stumbled up the step, falling over each other. He indicated Hana, his grey eyes glowering dangerously.
“Sssorry,” they stammered in unison, seeing her tiny baby bump almost simultaneously and looking horrified. Logan pointed inside until they were back up the steps and in through the doors. Then he turned, holding his hand out for Hana
“Sorry, love,” he said with a smile. He looked rugged and handsome and it took her breath away. She walked up the steps awkwardly, feeling as though all eyes were on her. Logan followed behind.
The boys remained standing like a welcoming committee, terror on their faces. Hana stopped to see what her husband would do next, but he nodded his head towards the door and the boys fled. Unluckily for them, a couple of parents arrived and using their new manners, the boys waited patiently for the small crowd of adults to enter and then bolted across the courtyard, arms pumping, feet hammering the concrete as fast as their legs could carry them.
One of the visitors greeted the receptionist with a smile and then indicated towards the fleeing boys with her hand. “Lovely manners, waiting like that. This is an awesome school.”
Angus saw and heard the whole thing, retreating to his office with a smile. “That’s my boy,” he muttered under his breath. “Twenty seven years and I still can’t help but like you, Logan Du Rose; you’re rough around the edges but not afraid of conflict.” Angus chuckled as he slid into his chair and watched the sky brighten through the only slender window in the room. His fireplace burned with a fierceness which mirrored his personal secretary’s lighting of it, probably cursing as she did so. “Bloody room,” Angus shivered. “Worse designed room in the whole site and it’s the principal’s.”
His mind turned back to thoughts of Logan. The younger man had sorted out some significant personality difficulties in the English department and feuds which ran for what seemed like centuries. Within a short amount of time, he had pointed out to relevant parties the futility of their argument and made it clear he wasn’t going to put up with their attempts to hijack and sabotage each other. For the first time in years, the department ran splendidly, not in complete harmony yet but running nevertheless. In a few short months, the literacy curriculum changes had gone through seamlessly, despite all the noise surrounding their announcement last year under the previous head of English. Du Rose was definitely a good leader. But then he’d learned from the best, after all, the principal smirked to himself. Angus creaked down into his seat and waited for his first visitor.
He didn’t have to wait long. Logan knocked on the office door and paused for an invitation. Angus sat with his hands clasped across his midriff and viewed him over his bifocal lenses. Logan held his gaze, waiting with the kind of patience not usually attributed to his age group and finally, Angus indicated the chair opposite him. “Shut the door, will you?”
Logan complied and settled himself, waiting politely for Angus to begin the conversation. When he didn’t, Logan decided to get it over with. “I think you’ll want my resignation,” he began, “so...”
Angus leaned forward in his chair and asked, “Why? Why Mr Du Rose, would I want that?”
Logan sighed and watched the boys playing on the field through the narrow reflection in the glass of a painting. The room felt stuffy and light deprived. He collected his thoughts carefully, but all the great sentences he constructed in the Honda on the way down seemed foolish as he prepared to torch a successful nineteen year teaching career. Angus cut into his thoughts. “I took the liberty last night of visiting poor Boris in hospital. He has no relatives here so as his employer, it was quite easy to see him. Senior Sergeant Johal gave me the details of your predicament first hand, although he seems to be in some considerable strife himself owing to the fact that you called him on your mobile phone from the scene of the crime.”
Logan shut his eyes and let his head roll back on his shoulders as the sigh escaped him. The memory of ginger-cop confiscating his cell phone made him squirm. Poor Bodie. He hadn’t even given his stepson’s situation much thought. Angus continued, “Boris regained his memory momentarily and I was able to speak to him. He assured me it wasn’t you who hit him. Therefore, I will not require your resignation; unless there’s some other reason I don’t yet know about?” His Scots accent rapped out the words like a staccato beat.
Logan shook his head. “No, but hey, wait a minute, Boris won’t even tell the cops I didn’t do it. He’s stayed quiet and that’s why I was only released on police bail and not exonerated.” Logan’s face was perplexed and disbelieving, “I don’t understand this!”
Angus shrugged and stood up, indicating the meeting was over. “Teach your Year 12 and 13 classes for the next few days, Mr Du Rose. I’ll give you cover for the rest. I strongly suggest you use the time wisely to sort out your issues. When the Expo’s over, take Hana to your hotel and keep her there.”
Logan noted he said your hotel and not your
parents’ and he bit his lip, keeping his face neutral. But Angus gave nothing at all away, either in his face or his manner. As Logan nodded gratefully and turned to go, Angus said with solemnity, “I’m getting old, Logan. I don’t want this drama you’ve brought with you. Deal with it!”
Logan dipped his head once in acknowledgement and was at the door before Angus spoke again, so softly he almost missed it. “And please refrain from man-handling the boys, much as we may all wish to!”
Logan allowed himself a small smirk as he carefully shut Angus’ door behind him. The personal assistant showed considerable restraint, managing to behave as though he didn’t exist until he was through the wooden double doors to the admin corridor. Upon which, she swivelled in her seat and pulled faces laden with scandal at the receptionist, who nodded her head emphatically in agreement.
In his office, Angus lay back in his chair feeling every bit as old as his years. He toyed again with the idea of retirement. Logan Du Rose always was a hard man to fathom, he decided. It was amazing what land agents could find out about a person nowadays. He grinned at the memory of Logan’s veiled surprise as he instructed him to hide his wife at his hotel. Angus thought back to his Auckland Grammar days and the silent teenager with the grey eyes, who perplexed him even back then. He and his brother were both highly gifted boys, but the older one seemed to defer to Logan in all matters. They were close knit and secretive.
Angus recognised emotional neglect when he saw it and those boys were severely starved of any kind of affection. Rumours filtered back to the staffroom of the mother having a mental collapse following a trip to England and certainly, Logan Du Rose was never the same child again. A listlessness settled on him, a hunger for something unknown. Perhaps, Angus mused to himself, reflecting on Logan’s wedding vows to Hana a few months ago, perhaps the hunger is finally satiated. It was possible Logan always knew exactly what would make his life complete; Hana.