by K T Bowes
Chapter 24
Hana dropped her car outside the garage and the mechanic drove her home. “Youse been rallying, missus?” he joked and Hana shook her head.
“She’s been in the wars a wee bit lately. Please, can you sort out the dents in the wing as well as the rear bumper? I’ll pay for them myself.”
“Yeah, sure.” He turned onto Achilles Rise and pulled up outside Hana’s house.
“Oh.” She poked her head back into the passenger door. “The boot isn’t opening. They hit it quite hard.”
The mechanic waved his hand in dismissal and executed a three-point turn. Hana sighed and walked up the driveway. She changed into walking gear ready for the trip to Chartwell and texted Anka. ‘Are we still meeting at 7?’ There seemed little point walking all the way there only to be stood up.
Anka texted back. ‘Yes. Want me to pick you up?’
Hana peered at the message and felt a wave of relief. The offer gave her hope and lifted her spirits. She replied. ‘I’m okay, thanks. I’ll walk there but I’d appreciate a ride home. Car’s in the mechanic’s and it will be dark.’
‘Okay. Sure.’
Feeling optimistic, Hana nurtured the belief she could convince Anka to end the relationship with the student. She hoped she wouldn’t require the appointment with Angus. The pleasant walk in the evening sunshine gave her time to think and pray for wisdom. Hana arrived a few minutes early and found seats in Starbucks, feeling as nervous as if she’d come for a job interview.
Anka didn’t show until much later, blasting in at a quarter to eight looking flushed and irritated. Hana rose from her chair to hug her friend, feeling wooden shoulders beneath her hands. Embarrassed, she sat down. “I thought you’d changed your mind.” She offered a smile but regretted the comment as Anka’s face morphed from irritation to anger.
“I did,” she bit. “Then I decided to come and tell you to mind your own business.”
Hana’s jaw gaped, the attitude reversal unexpected. “I thought we agreed to meet up and talk.” She cocked her head in confusion. “You don’t want that now?”
Anka shrugged. “I had to play nice by text; Ivan knows we’re meeting but not why. I don’t ultimately care what you think, Hana. I assumed you’d bleat to your toy-boy, so I’ve taken evasive action.”
Hana gritted her teeth. “Don’t call him that!”
Anka looked magnificent in tailored jeans and an expensive jacket. Hana felt underdressed and inadequate in her stretchy track pants and hooded sweater. Her friend’s constant attacks on Logan made her wary, not understanding the context. “Why don’t you like him? He doesn’t even know you; I asked him.”
Anka snorted and shook her head. “Wow, Hana. Just wow. You’ve got a shock coming your way and you can’t even see it.”
Hana shook her head. “Don’t turn this around on me. Logan’s single and he’s not underage!”
Anka stood. “This is stupid, I shouldn’t have come.”
“Then why did you?” Hana held her arms out to her sides in exasperation. “I thought perhaps I could help. We’ve been friends for years.”
Anka closed her eyes and the hand she brushed across her brow shook. “You can’t help me.”
“Sit down.” Hana took her forearm and pushed her back into the chair. “I’ll order drinks and we can start again.”
She watched over her shoulder as she ordered two hot chocolates, half-expecting Anka to bolt as soon as she turned her back. But to her credit, Anka waited for her, awkwardness and regret shrouding her like a cloak.
Hana sat and twisted a napkin in her fingers until the barista called their order. Anka busied herself with her phone and ignored Hana’s presence; making her wonder if she should change the order to take-away cups. The exercise felt more futile the longer it dragged on. She sat their drinks on the table with a sigh and stirred sugar into hers. Anka’s question surprised her. “How’s it going with Logan?”
Hana felt defensive and frowned. “Good. He’s a nice guy.”
Anka’s smile made her nervous. “If you say so.”
“How do you know him when he doesn’t know you?”
Anka sat back in her seat and sipped her drink. Red manicured nails obscured the logo on her mug. “I’ve known about him for years,” she replied. Then she shrugged. “What do you want from me, Hana? An explanation? The gory details?”
“I don’t know.” Despite her planning and praying, Hana felt lost. “I want to be a good friend and help you sort this out.” It died on her tongue. Anka’s face expression and posture showed her unresponsiveness. An uncharacteristic hardness cloaked her which hadn’t been there before. She seemed resolute and spiky, not her usual smiling self, always willing to see the best in people. That Anka was gone.
“I can see you judging me. You’re no different to anyone else. I’m sleeping with an eighteen-year-old student and you’re horrified.”
“I’m surprised, I guess.” Hana fumbled for words.
“Why? Because I’m the last person you expected to fall for someone else? I’m not without needs, Hana.”
“You’re married!” Hana burnt her lip on the drink and placed it on the table. “I don’t know what to think.”
She fudged yet another start to a sentence but Anka waded on, regardless. “I know he’s only eighteen, but he’s mature, maybe because of what he’s been through at home and stuff. Sex with him is amazing. I’ve tried, but I can’t give him up. He adores and trusts me and I’m not about to destroy him. Do you even know what it’s like to be somebody’s first?”
Hana reeled at the low blow, aimed at the heart with destruction in view. She ground her teeth and ignored the sleight, not wanting to drag her late husband’s name through the mud in his absence. “How long, Anka?” she asked, her brow creased with worry. “When did it start?”
Anka tossed her dark hair, the pink streaks standing out like a rebellion. “It started before the summer but I’ve known him for years. He turned up with Gareth just after they turned fourteen; they share the same birthday. He’s lived in the boarding house for the last five years and struggles to find somewhere to go during the holidays. He came home with Gareth a few years ago because his home life sucks, his mother abandoned him as a baby and his father beats him up. Nobody cares about him. I comforted him when he discovered the man who raised him isn’t his father and I’ve been there for him more than anyone else.”
Hana reached across and touched Anka’s writhing fingers. “But that’s different to what you’re doing now. Can’t you see that?”
Anka flared her nostrils and straightened her back. She shook off Hana’s touch. “Ivan’s never home, Gareth and Charlotte go out most of the time. I’m left alone and it’s miserable. He turned up looking for Gareth, I was alone as usual and one thing led to another.” Anka inhaled and closed her eyes. “I can’t get enough of him. He makes me feel alive and wanted. I forgot how that felt.”
“But what about Ivan?” interjected Hana, sensing Anka pivoting on the edge of disaster. “What about destroying your marriage and your children? What will Charlotte and Gareth think? This boy is your son’s friend! You have the power to ruin a lot of lives, not least your own.” Hana shook her head, sensing she’d already lost the battle.
“Look Hana, I know this all seems stupid to someone as spotless as you, but I didn’t ask for any of this to happen. I love Tama. Don’t think I haven’t considered the consequences. I don’t know what else to say.”
“But it’s wrong,” countered Hana. “It’s wrong on every level! Anka think about what you’re saying, you’re having sex with an eighteen-year-old student from the school you work in. Please think about how this could end?”
Hana’s voice grew louder as she appealed to her friend and Anka’s eyes darted around, anxious to protect herself. Inwardly, Hana kicked herself. She’d lost. She used a last ditch attempt to get Anka to see reason. “Let’s see Pastor Allen together. I’ll go with you. We can talk it out properly; he’
ll know what to do.”
“No!” Anka’s shriek drowned her out. Her voice dropped to a whispered but forceful hiss. “No way! Don’t you dare tell him about this. I’ll deal with it in my own way.”
She left, striding through the food court towards the lift. As she pressed the down-button, she turned and stared Hana straight in the eye. The violence in the look reached across the thirty-metre distance, across the heads of families eating their fatty food. It pierced through years of friendship and Christian fellowship in good times and bad and through the glass surrounding the Starbucks enclosure. It severed something precious in Hana’s chest. It was a look of warning and threat. Hana’s face became ashen as she withered under Anka’s gaze. The friendship died right there, drawing its last, gasping breath before expiring. Hana closed her eyes against the misery of a friendship destroyed by the oldest trick in the deceiver’s book; sex. And with the current of madness would go Anka’s faith, her marriage, her relationship with her children, her job and if the authorities got wind of it, her liberty.
Hana leaned forward in her chair with both hands over her eyes, doing battle with the hot, angry tears which threatened to disgrace her. The promised ride home forgotten, Hana observed the darkening skylights as she made for the lift doors and a long, lonely hike home.
Emerging from the brightly lit mall, Hana walked through the car park, careful to stick to areas lit by old-fashioned street lamps. She spotted the front of Anka’s stylish black sports car glinting under the artificial haze and hesitated, desperate to mend something from the evening. She walked slowly towards the vehicle, forming an apology on her lips and preparing a sensible sentence in her head. A minibus filled with elderly people passed and Hana waited on the kerb, losing sight of the vehicle for a moment. When the bus and its choking exhaust fumes disappeared, Hana looked closer and saw two occupants in the front seats. She moved away from the light and watched.
Anka sat in the passenger seat dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Hana sighed, recognising the student in the driver’s seat. His fingers tapped a beat on the steering wheel and he studied Anka’s face as though hanging off her every word. Hana’s heart clenched in fear, watching the disaster unfold in front of her. “Tama.” She turned the name over on her tongue, recalling it from various class lists over the years. She remembered him as blacklisted at some point, a troubled child. Tama reached his arm behind Anka’s neck and bowed his head, joining their lips in the darkness. He held her as though she was the finest and most delicate Dresden china. Their intimacy placed an invisible hedge around the car and Hana dare not trespass.
She changed direction and forgot her own safety, pushing through the perimeter bushes and out onto the road. Anxious and upset by the situation, she acknowledged an inexplicable feeling of jealousy at their intimacy, which made her feel lonely and sickened. Memories of Vik for once did nothing to lessen the emptiness. “It’s never okay to break up a marriage like that,” she fumed at the darkness.
The walk home seemed long and hazardous. In the eighty kilometre zones, streetlamps were far apart, leaving darkened gaps between. Hana passed three different recreation areas, tree lined and deserted, admonishing herself for her isolation and stupidity in walking alone. Bodie would tell her off if he ever found out she walked this way alone in the dark. Spooked by every night noise and fighting the urge to hide each time she saw headlights approach, Hana jogged home, reaching Achilles Rise long after night assumed its darkest cloak.
The lights she left on beckoned to her from the bright, enticing windows of the sunroom on the first floor and Hana felt a catch in her throat. A figure rose to meet her from the front steps and she gasped and backed away.
“It’s okay, sorry, Hana, it’s me!” Logan stepped out of the shadows and pointed to the truck she’d walked past. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Are you checking up on me?” She sounded haggard and desperate and Hana masked the sadness with anger.
Logan walked into the light and his face showed only concern. “No. Yes.” He slapped his thighs with his hands in irritation. “Both. I remembered you booked your car into the garage, but then you said you had a meeting tonight.” He reached out a hand and hooked the front of her hoodie. “To sort out your dilemma. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He pulled her closer, reeling her in, millimetres at a time. “I can go now you’re home.” He pressed his lips against the front of her forehead and then let go.
“No!” Hana gripped the front of his shirt and pushed her face into his warmth. “Thank you.”
“Did it not go well?” Logan kissed the top of her head.
“Awful,” Hana groaned.
“Do you still have a dilemma?” He lowered his head and kissed her ear and Hana sighed and nodded.
“It got bigger.”
“Can I help?” He lifted her hair and massaged the space beneath her ponytail, pushing his face into her neck and inhaling.
“No,” she whispered. “Just hold me.”
They progressed to the steps, linking hands and listening to the sound of the crickets playing their sounds for the night creatures.
“I’m selling this house,” Hana said, the fear sounding in her voice. “I need to move on. I’m putting it up for auction and selling that damn car.”
“Wow. Dilemmas must be good for you.” Logan lifted her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers.
Hana shook her head and snuggled closer. “I’m living in the past, Logan. Vik created this life for me and left me to live it alone. I can’t do it anymore.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean to.” A strange barb filled his voice as though he didn’t mean it and Hana sat up to look at him.
“Maybe.” She brought her lips to his cheek and kissed, sending a jolt of electricity through them both. “But I’m not doing it anymore. If I sell the house and car, those men will leave me alone. I’ll start again some place else.”
“Will you take your dilemma with you?” Logan’s eyes followed her mouth, catching it as she leaned across to kiss his other cheek. He parted her lips with his and his hands snaked around her waist.
“No.” Hana shook her head and sighed. “It’s not my dilemma anymore. It belongs to someone else.”
Logan pulled her into his lap and kissed her again and Hana felt her heart drop to her knees. She revelled in the sensation. A grown woman who had birthed two children, her body reminded her what attraction felt like as their kiss deepened and it made her hot and bothered. Logan ended it, backing off as though afraid to push her and Hana felt a stab of frustration mingled with relief. She wasn’t yet ready to relinquish control to another man. He buried his face in her hair and held her close.
Hana wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her cheek on his shoulder. It brought the rusting bannister rail into view. The task of selling up seemed overwhelming. “What am I doing?” she groaned. “It’s too hard.”
Logan stroked her back. “Na. What can I do to help?”
Hana shrugged. “I don’t know. My thought process only got as far as the decision, not to rationalising it and following through.”
“How long will the garage take to mend your car?” Logan’s jacket rustled against her ear and he shifted his legs so she tipped further into him.
“I don’t know. Deepak added to its misery so I’m not sure. I can’t sell it until it comes back.”
“Borrow my truck,” Logan offered. “I’ll use the bike or the Triumph. When it’s fixed, I’ll sell yours online.”
Hana sat up, their faces close as she looked for the catch. “That’s heaps of hassle for you.” Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. “Why would you do that for me?”
Logan planted a kiss on the end of her nose and gave her a searching look. “Ooh, I dunno. Duh!”
Hana grinned. “Are you suggesting this relationship might be progressing towards financial trust, Mr Du Rose?”
He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “It might, Ms McIntyre. Let’s see, s
hall we?” His expression grew serious. “Maybe it’s best you don’t have people coming round here to see the car, not when you’re on your own. When it’s fixed, I’ll sell it for you and give you the money. They can look at it over at the rental house.” As Hana watched him, she saw the confidence in his eyes dissipate. They’d been of one mind, happily planning Hana’s future and it looked in danger of fizzling out like a damp firework. She resurrected it.
“Thanks so much. I’d appreciate it. Are you sure you don’t mind me having your car? I’ll pay the difference if you put me on the insurance.”
Logan hugged her tighter, pleasure surging through his soul at her nearness. The bitter scabs of twenty-six years of worry and disappointment slipped from his heart and melted into his bloodstream. Peace enfolded them both and Logan sighed with happiness. “You’re wearing my sweater.” He tugged at the long cuff and Hana pursed her lips.
“So?”
“So, nothing.” He kissed her again, inhaling long breaths of salvation from her warm skin. “I like you having my things.”
“Things?” Hana sat up on his knee and narrowed her eyes. She prodded at the hoodie and looked down, her fringe falling into her eyes. “Only this.”
Logan swallowed and Hana saw the open emotion in his eyes shutter closed. She put her hand on his cheek. “What did I say?”
“Nothing.” He shook his head and dispelled the fog of fear. “I included my truck, that’s all.”
“Oh, yeah.” Hana grinned with satisfaction and laid her head back on his shoulder, fancying she felt him shudder beneath her. “Thanks for trusting me; I’ll try not to ding it.”
Logan sighed. “It doesn’t matter. People are more essential than shiny things. I learned that the hardest way possible.”
“How?” Hana popped her head up to look at him again and Logan laughed.
“Another time, wahine,” he whispered. “Another story.”
“Wahine,” Hana repeated. “Isn’t it rude to call someone woman?”
Logan’s head shifted against her neck. “Not in my culture. Wahine, means my woman.”
“Your woman?” Hana sat up and wrinkled her nose in a cute expression. “Really?” She leaned in and kissed him. “Will you stick your tongue out at me?”
Logan shook his head in a slow dismissal, his lips raised at the edges. “Nope. Because if I do that, it means I want to take your head off.”
“Oh.” Hana squinted. “Maybe don’t do that then.”
“I won’t.” Logan’s lips felt warm against hers and Hana pressed herself into his body, feeling the hard edges of his ribs against her breasts.
The night grew colder and they huddled together like teenagers on the steps till the last, sampling something new and exciting. The neighbourhood lights winked out in the houses opposite and curtains twitched shut. The truck fired up and carried Logan away, but not before he watched Hana safely inside the house. “No point taking chances now,” he muttered to himself, replying to her wave from the sunroom window.
He’d searched the world for the hauntingly beautiful redhead and given up, acknowledging the futility of an unrealistic infatuation. Yet there she was, right under his nose when he finally came home. He shook himself as he left the street, terrified of scaring her off. Her secrets harried at her nerves and she wrestled daily. It pained him to watch her agonise, not able to tell her he already knew. He glanced back at the cream two-storey which housed all his hopes and dreams, forcing himself not to dwell on his gnawing disappointment. She didn’t remember.