About Hana

by K T Bowes

Chapter 10

  The term proceeded with its usual hustle and bustle. Chapel services recommenced with their signature gusto, challenging the school towards higher goals whilst classes raced along, pointing at earthlier destinations.

  Sheila and Rory sported a fragile peace during working hours although the grapevine told of intriguing battles behind the confines of Rory’s not-so-private front door. There were odd moments of veiled tension. Rory rushed off to class in a hurry leaving the photocopier jammed and Sheila spent a whole period trying to remove the mashed paper. She exacted her revenge by filling the printer drawer with A5 paper and hiding the A4, forcing an embarrassed Rory to Sellotape a multi-page document in front of a parent.

  The office flooded with information from colleges and universities. Bulletins popped onto the common room notice board, got defaced and then popped off again. Meanwhile, the weather pushed its way into the realms of unbearably hot, as summer engaged in its final fling before bowing out to the onslaught of a wet autumn. The girls from the Anglican school chosen to represent their fair sex in the annual joint production, came in and out of the Great Hall. They caused mayhem amongst the assembled testosterone and turned the staff toilets into a hairdresser-come-beauty clinic. Romances flourished and lifted the atmosphere in the male territory, keeping Dobbs on his toes as he hunted down flouters of the rules.

  Hana bumped into Logan Du Rose most days. He seemed to be everywhere she wanted to be as though anticipating her route and getting there first. His brooding grey eyes studied her with frightening intensity and she both loved and hated it. His presence confused her. She hankered after seeing him and then when she sensed his gaze on her, all confidence ebbed away and she drowned in embarrassment. Something about him nagged at her memory as though she knew him from somewhere, but the recollection wouldn’t come.

  “He’s staring at you again.” Anka glanced across the staffroom as Hana struggled through her soup, trying not to spill the liquid down her blouse and embarrass herself. “You’re very distant of late. Is he bothering you? I can tell him to stop.”

  Hana shrugged. “No, it’s not him. It’s other stuff, nothing major.”

  “Logan Du Rose spends too much time looking in your direction,” her friend commented. “What’s going on?” Her voice sounded sharp and Hana looked up in surprise.

  “I don’t know. I’ve seldom spoken to him.”

  “Well don’t!” Anka hissed under her breath, avoiding the eager ears of their table companions. “He’s bad news. Stay away from him.”

  “Why? What’s wrong with him?” Hana leaned forwards hoping for more detail but Anka clammed up, turning to speak to the woman on her other side. Her continued determination to avoid the subject frustrated Hana and she grew irritated with Anka. Her friend showed no desire to share whatever she knew about Logan Du Rose.

  In a small act of rebellion, Hana distanced herself from Anka’s judgement, walking instead with one of the science assistants. Indian by birth, Sunita possessed a slender build and the stunning chocolate skin of her kin. Hana missed her half Indian children and Sunita’s company eased the knot of pain in her stomach. The lunchtime walks provided a source of mild sanity, when the cobwebs of the school blew away for a short interlude. For an hour, Hana avoided the scrutiny of the serious grey eyes which set her heart pounding in an unnerving rhythm. She subconsciously anticipated the moment when the joke unfolded over her head and everyone laughed at her presumption that such a gorgeous man could possibly be interested in her.

  “I won’t be able to walk for a few weeks,” Sunita announced. “Gudrun’s going away so I need to nip home and check on my son during lunch. I go at morning tea usually, but I must do both visits while he’s away.”

  Hana smiled. “Careful. You make it sound like Amrit’s home alone.”

  “Oh, no!” Sunita widened her eyes in horror. “Gudrun’s mother lives with us.”

  “I know!” Hana shoved her arm and Sunita relaxed. “Let’s walk as far as the shop today. I fancy a fizzy drink.”

  “Okay.” They set off at a brisk walk with the midday sun burning through their clothes.

  “What’s this I hear about Gwynne Jeffs asking you out on a date?” Sunita waggled her eyebrows and Hana cringed.

  “So awkward.” Hana swallowed and focussed on her footsteps. “I suppose it’s all round the staffroom?”

  “Of course! But what we don’t know is your answer.”

  Hana sighed. “I said no. He’s a sweet man and I value his friendship. I couldn’t see myself involved with him in any other way, but I hated disappointing him.”

  “He’ll live. I think he’s turned his amorous gaze elsewhere.” Sunita crinkled her pretty nose.

  “Wow.” Hana laid a delicate hand over her heart. “I’m so easily forgotten.”

  Sunita snorted. “You should come to staff briefing in the morning. That new English teacher’s worth being bored rigid by Donald Watson for. He stood up and spoke this morning and he’s really hot.”

  “Oh, what did he say?” Hana asked, “Admin staff can only attend on Mondays. You’re special.”

  “No idea what came out of his mouth,” her companion replied with a sigh. “I spent my time looking at his muscles. He must be over six feet tall and built like a Greek god. I hear he works out in the school gym.”

  “I bet he’s married,” Hana said, keeping her tone light and telling herself she didn’t care. “Someone like him can’t be single.”

  Turning left through the gates and heading south promised a pleasant stroll, punctuated twice by traffic lights and pedestrian crossings. At the end of the road beckoned the mysterious Waikato River with its undercurrents and swirling dark waters, fascinating to watch and hypnotic in its unrelenting movement. But an hour was never enough time to reach the river and return, so the goal was futile, but persuasive. The women put off their homeward journey until the last possible moment. “We should start back,” Hana said, staring at her watch with a grimace. “Donald Watson roasted that poor girl from the canteen last week for running to the toilet outside break time.”

  “Yeah, I heard. He’s no right to do things like that.”

  “You tell him.” Hana shot a sideways look at Sunita. “I’ll watch.”

  “Not likely!” Sunita picked up the pace, forcing Hana to jog to keep up.

  The conversation continued as the women puffed along, turning towards the achievements of Sunita’s toddler son. “Amrit used the potty this morning. Gudrun looked so proud. It can take months for them to do number twos sitting down. It’s a sciatic nerve thing.” Sunita continued with the detail and enthusiasm recounted only by a mother. As she slipped her untouched chocolate spread sandwich back into its wrapper, Hana endured the graphic description. “I’ve never seen one that shape before,” Sunita claimed. “It was just like a Mr Whippy ice cream. All it needed was a flake.”

  Hana pulled an expression of distaste. “Gross! It’s obvious you work in a laboratory setting. Ugh. That’s disgusting.”

  Marching with purpose towards the traffic lights onto Maui Street, Hana spotted a smattering of familiar striped blazers occupying the low wall outside the dairy. The boys had raided the ice cream freezer inside and enjoyed the fruits of their labour. “They’ll get a dean’s detention for being off-site without permission,” Hana mused, trying to identify the boys against the glare of the bright noonday sun. “Can you see who they are?”

  “Stupid little idiots!” Sunita exclaimed. “Year 9s by the looks of it. They know they’re not allowed to take themselves off to the shops when they feel like it.”

  Hana pressed the button to activate the pedestrian crossing lights, waiting as traffic streamed past. “They think we’re cruel and boring,” she said with a sigh. “Bodie thought I spent my time removing all traces of fun from his life.” She eyed Sunita with sympathy. “You’ve got it to come.”

  “They’ve no idea,” the slender Indian woman raged. “Yesterday, a man approached a group of Year 9s
outside this dairy after school. He threatened them with a knife, stole their wallets and phones and punched one boy in the face.”

  “I didn’t know that!” Hana stared at her aghast.

  “Angus mentioned it at staff briefing this morning,” Sunita confirmed. “Stupid little boys!”

  “I thought you were busy ogling the new head of English,” Hana joked and Sunita bobbled her head on her shoulders and smirked.

  “I did my ogling after that. My Gudrun’s fine, but eesh, that dude’s hot. The lab assistants are going crazy over him. Pamela thinks he might be gay though.” Sunita turned her lips downwards in distaste. “Such a waste.”

  “Why?” Disappointment laced Hana’s voice and Sunita grinned. “She asked him out on a date and he said he was involved with someone. She stuck her boobs in his face and everything and he didn’t bat an eyelid.”

  Hana gaped. “How did she manage that?”

  “What? Asking him out? Easy, she just said, ‘Will you come out with me for a drink?’ He said no thank you and that was that.” Leaning across Hana, Sunita jabbed at the button for the crossing again, trying to speed it up.

  “No.” Hana shook her head. “How did she stick her boobs in his face? She’s tiny and he bumps his head on doorframes! Did she stand on a chair?”

  “No, silly!” Sunita slapped her arm. “He sat down and she leaned across. Peter North practically put his face in her cleavage, but the other guy didn’t even look. She’s sure he’s gay.”

  “These lights are taking ages.” Hana fiddled with the button to no avail. “Has Angus told the boys about the assault?”

  Sunita nodded. “Yes, all of them know. And he’s sending a letter home for the parents tonight. The cops are keeping an eye out.”

  “Of course they are!” Hana mused, her voice heavy with sarcasm. “They haven’t got a clue who broke my windscreen or tried to steal my handbag.”

  She looked across the road at six silly boys sitting on a wall, licking triple scoops of high calorie, artery clogging ice cream. A red stain on the pavement remained as evidence of the previous night’s events.

  “Oh, sod this!” Sunita snapped and launched herself off the curb and into the moving line of cars. As Hana froze at the crossing shielding her eyes from the sun, Sunita dodged traffic and made a swift beeline for the boys. Like sitting ducks, they didn’t see her coming. As Sunita popped onto the pavement in front of them, the boys gazed up at her with indifference, an expression which changed the instant they realised she worked at the school.

  The choices flashed across their faces. “Blag it out,” one boy hissed, while three of his compatriots shouted, “Run!”

  The latter choice had the required pulling power as chaos ensued. Two boys bent down for their rucksacks and bumped heads, resulting in one donating his triple scoop into the other’s lap. The cold unpleasantness on his crotch caused that boy to leap up, smearing his cone up the side of the other boy’s startled face. Sunita maintained her stern glare and rested her hands on her hips to accentuate the severity of the moment, while the other four boys decided having messed up the ‘run’ choice, they should ‘blag it out.’

  Arriving slower but no less determined, Hana surveyed the scene. Three boys stood frozen in time whilst large ice creams obeyed the law of physics relating to solids becoming liquids and dripped along their wrists. The melting mess headed for their elbows before making the dive towards the concrete floor. One child dripped over his open bag onto what looked like a maths book. A blonde Year 9 stood with his legs bowed, suspicious looking chocolate-brown gunk covering the crotch of his shorts and dripping into his sandals. His olive skinned friend wore a helping of ‘goody gum drops,’ which began at his left eye and ended with a blue gumdrop in his nostril. A Somali boy stood in front of Sunita, licking his ice cream as though nothing happened.

  “Stop licking!” Hana growled, with an exasperated edge to her voice.

  The boy stopped, but continued to clean up his cone with his finger as she looked away.

  “Let’s walk them back to school,” Sunita growled. “Dobbs can deal with them.”

  A terrified hush fell over the little group as the women trailed them along Maui Street. Ten minutes later, much interest greeted them in reception. A rainbow of ice cream stains graced the arms of the boys who, unable to find a bin along the route, hadn’t deemed it appropriate under the circumstances to continue eating. Clutching empty but saturated cones, they crowded together on the polished parquet floor awaiting their fate. The child with the stained crotch endured complete humiliation, walking bow-legged past the rest of the school. The dark brown stain had run down his legs and resembled a bad diarrhoea attack. His accomplice snorted the jellybean from his nose but terrified of Sunita, ate the evidence.

  Unperturbed, Sunita continued her potty dialogue until chocolate ice cream left the menu forever. The Somali boy devoured his melting cone during the journey and won the competition for the only one not wearing any of it.

  As Sunita and Hana made arrangements to venture out again in a few weeks, the school grapevine summoned Alan Dobbs to the helm and they retired before the fireworks began. They stood on the front steps and basked in the sunshine for the last few minutes of lunch break. Sunita opened her mouth and Hana raised her hand. “No more poo talk. I can’t take anymore.”

  “Who mentioned poo?” Sunita looked offended. “I was just going to point out that sexy English teacher. He’s on duty in the courtyard.” She dug Hana hard in the ribs. “Look, look. No don’t look.”

  “Which do you want me to do?” Hana complained, rubbing her side.

  “He’s staring at you,” she hissed and Hana felt her cheeks colour.

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” Hana replied and stole a peek. The man’s grey eyes fixed on hers and he offered the briefest smile. She returned it without looking an idiot for a change. He leaned against the wall with the sole of his left cowboy boot resting against the brick. His casual stance held tension, as though he might spring into action with little provocation. A scuffle broke out a short distance away and he put his foot down on the floor and straightened his jacket. Boys on the fringes of the scrap kept watch and nudged the perpetrators whilst looking at Logan Du Rose. Something about his stance made them nervous and they moved away, taking their dispute elsewhere.

  “Talk to him,” Sunita urged, giving Hana a small shove.

  “No!” Hana clung to the hand rail. “I’m not twelve! We’re grown adults.” She drew herself up to her full height. “I’m a grandmother. Anyway, you said he was gay and involved with someone.”

  Sunita giggled. “He lied to get rid of Pam. Gorgeous as he is, he looks lost, if you know what I mean. So cut the crap and ask him out.”

  Hana’s jaw dropped. “He can’t be interested in me!”

  Sunita stared at her in surprise. “You underestimate yourself, Hana. You’re beautiful and unattached. He’s looking at you again so he’s interested. You need to jump on him.”

  Hana bit her lip and looked scandalised. “I will not!”

  Sunita shrugged and turned towards the main building. “Well someone else will then, but at the moment it looks as though he’d like it to be you.”

  Hana stole a look at the grey-eyed man and he smiled again. She swallowed as her heart fluttered. The sunlight caught his dark hair and infused it with highlights. Hana’s fingers twitched at the memory of his touch on her wrist and his fingers wrapped around hers. She offered another shy smile, surprised by the expression of relief which touched his face. Then her confidence failed her. She’d watched too many foolish women throw themselves at men. Foolish women, just like she’d once been.