Danny’s grandmother was called Pania.
Her grandfather’s name was Ted.
She had three uncles—Henare, Hemi and Tipene (or Henry, James and Stephen if you preferred English). The boys, as their mother called them, didn’t care what they were called. They answered to their Maori and English names, and several others which Pania didn’t share. Rose had been Ted and Pania’s only daughter.
Danny’s phone call to her grandmother had been eerie: Pania sounded like an older version of her mother. Hearing her voice put a lump in Danny’s throat. Pania took pity on Danny’s tongue-tied silences and said, ‘We’ll talk properly when you get here. You’re staying for the week, aren’t you?’
Danny cleared her throat. ‘I can’t. I have to go to work on Monday, and the children have to go to school.’
‘Oh.’ Pania sounded disappointed. ‘Alright, but next time you have to come for a month.’
‘OK, if you want us to.’
‘We want you to,’ Pania said firmly.
They made arrangements to visit the following weekend. Danny wrote down the address and directions. ‘I’ll see you on Saturday.’
‘Yes.’
‘I’ll go now.’ Danny didn’t want to hang up.
‘Yes.’
‘Goodbye.’
‘Goodbye.’
Danny waited for Pania to hang up.
‘What do you look like?’
Her shoulders slumped. Pania probably hoped she looked like Rose. ‘I’m more like my father than my mother, but my eyes are brown…kind of.’ She hated the desperate note in her voice. ‘You might be disappointed. Joe’s mother might be wrong.’
‘Kiri’s not wrong.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Have you ever noticed how the women or the men in a family sound alike on the phone?’
‘Yes.’
‘You sound just like Rose.’
Danny left a message on Ross’s voicemail, saying she was taking the children to Rotorua for the weekend. She was a bundle of nerves and excitement, so when her cellphone started crowing as she was loading the car for the trip on Saturday morning Danny promptly dropped it and had to dive under her car to retrieve it.
‘Hello?’ she panted into the phone.
Ross was still upset Danny hadn’t asked him for help over Matt, and didn’t waste time saying hello. ‘Why are you going to Rotorua?’
Danny went on full alert. What was it to him? ‘Did I give you the third degree when you said you were flitting off to America?’
‘I did not flit off,’ he retorted. ‘This is work.’
‘Oh yeah, it must be hell spending all day bent over while strangers kiss your arse.’
‘It’s hard work. You wouldn’t last a day: I have to repeat the same thing over and over to strangers and be nice.’
‘I’d be great at it.’
‘You’d stink. By the way, I’m not in America.’
‘What do you mean you’re not in America?’ How dare he move countries without telling her? ‘Where are you?’
‘Oh I get it, it’s OK for you to flit off to Rotorua but it’s not OK for me to flit off to London.’ Ross paused. ‘You still haven’t said why you’re going to Rotorua.’
‘You’re right, I haven’t. What are you doing in London? Does the queen know you’ve been let in the country?’
Once they got started, they could keep up this verbal barrage forever. Ross decided it was better not to make a big deal about her trip to Rotorua, although he badly wanted to know why she was going. Allan Nicolls had emailed him the private investigator’s report with the names and addresses of Danny’s grandparents and three uncles and the background checks he’d completed. The Smiths seemed solid enough; Edward and Pania Smith had retired four years ago and moved into town, leaving one of their sons to manage the farm. The other two brothers owned and ran an autorepair business in Rotorua. The family farm had been split equally between the sons. If Danny’s mother had lived, her inheritance would have solved all their financial problems. Danny was Rose’s heir, and so by rights she was entitled to her mother’s share in the farm, but Ross knew money was the furthest thing from Danny’s mind—it was family she was looking for, not dollars. Ross hoped her grandparents and uncles would rectify matters without him having to step in and make Danny hate him even more than she already did. He’d planned to give her the report once he’d asked Allan and the investigator some questions. But, as usual, Danny had upset his plans.
‘Ross? Are you still there?’
‘Yes.’
‘Tell me what you’ve been doing. You don’t really hate it do you?’
‘I was getting bored, so I broke into the Tower of London to steal the Crown Jewels. It was a bad idea. I’m tunnelling my way out as we speak. I want you to meet me under Tower Bridge in a year’s time. Bring a small inflatable boat.’
‘Only if you send me the money for the flight and the boat.’
‘I’m in a crisis, and you’re trying to squeeze money out of me?’
‘You’d better include childcare expenses: I’m a solo mother.’
‘You’re a tightass.’
‘That too,’ Danny agreed. ‘Is the boat for when I fish your sorry carcass out of the Thames?’
‘Has anyone ever told you you’re heartless?’
‘Yes, but he was puking into a bucket at the time so I didn’t pay attention. Tell me why you’re in London.’
‘It’s the English premier of John Doe tonight. I flew over with Kevin.’
‘Kevin? Kevin who?’
‘Kevin Spacey.’
She gasped. ‘Omigod! Can you get me his autograph?’
‘Why do you want his autograph?’ Ross asked irritably. ‘You’ve never asked for mine.’
‘Why would I want your autograph?’ Danny threw Matt’s soccer ball and Mia’s skateboard beside the bags in the boot of the car. ‘Hang on a moment: is it worth anything? Come to think of it, do you think I’d have any takers for your dirty laundry? You certainly left a big enough pile of it in the hamper.’
‘You keep your hands off my laundry. I know exactly how many pairs of socks I left behind.’
Danny closed the boot and rested her hip against it. She was wearing the blue skirt and top Ross liked and her blue ballet pumps; and out of respect for the Smiths, her hair was au naturel. She didn’t want to frighten them on her first visit.
‘This obsession with socks is unhealthy, Fabello. You need help.’
‘Danny, I’m warning you—’
Danny sighed with pleasure. It was like old times. ‘What are you going to do? Set your private investigator on me?’ She waited with bated breath, but Ross remained silent. Interesting. ‘How’s everything going?’
‘What? You mean the film?’
‘Did you take an extra dumb pill this morning, Fabello? Of course I mean the film.’
Surrounded by sycophants and people dedicated to making sure his world was perfect, Ross smiled as he realized how much he had missed Danny’s smart mouth and attitude. He thawed some more. ‘The box-office takings are great, so everybody seems to be happy.’
‘Excellent,’ she replied with satisfaction. ‘That means I can ask double for your socks when I post them on TradeMe. I hope you’re not overdosing on popcorn and coke—I’ll have to lower my asking price if you’re fat and covered with zits.’
‘I’ve been pacing myself,’ he said reassuringly. ‘Or it goes straight to my hips.’
Danny smiled. Oh, but she missed this.
‘Besides, I share with Kevin.’ He paused significantly. ‘Or Marisa.’
Danny’s smile slipped. ‘Marisa? Who’s Marisa?’
‘Marisa Tomei. She plays Maria, the wife.’ Ross smirked. Just throw out the right lures and Danny could be relied upon to bite. ‘Dark-haired, very pretty, great actress.’
‘How nice for you,’ she sneered. ‘If you’d taken me, Kevin and I could have made up a foursome.’
‘I don’t think he’s attracted to women wearing boiler suits and clown pants.’
‘I do not wear boiler suits, and my yellow pants are not clown pants.’ Danny straightened from the car and shook down her skirt. ‘I haven’t got time to stand around talking to you. I’ve got to get on the road.’
‘Don’t pick up any hitchhikers: you’ll only frighten them.’
‘If I don’t get going, I’ll be late.’
Ross pounced. ‘For what?’
Danny wasn’t biting. ‘Have fun with Kevin and Marisah, and good luck with digging the tunnel. We’ll be back on Sunday night if you want to talk to the kids.’
But only after she’d discovered a way to bribe Mia not to blab; Danny still hadn’t found out how Ross had managed to keep her quiet about the arrangements for their birthday. She was certain it had taken more than the promise of a CD and a few magnets.
From the bedroom of his hotel suite, Ross watched the lights from Tower Bridge spangle the black surface of the Thames like sequins, and chided himself for being such a fool. He knew Rotorua was a popular holiday destination with geysers, hot bubbling mud and Maori cultural attractions, but he was certain this was no weekend jaunt for the kids. Danny didn’t do weekend jaunts.
He’d toyed with asking Allan Nicolls to find Danny’s family for weeks, only to make his mind up too late. In her usual independent fashion, Danny had taken matters into her own hands and found them herself, proving yet again that she didn’t need Ross for anything. Well, apart from a new roof, bathroom, and to replace the rotten decking. And in bed, Danny definitely liked having him there, so much so that she’d panicked and tried to back-pedal their relationship to being friends. The only time Danny let down her barriers was when they were naked, and each time they made love he felt another layer of his tough, cynical outer shell slough off and light creep into corners of his soul that had lain dark for too long.
Ross told himself the reason that he wanted to find Danny’s relatives was so he could leave New Zealand with a clear conscience, safe in the knowledge that she wouldn’t be alone. But if he were honest, the real reasons he’d contacted Allan was because Danny needed her family and Ross wanted to find a way to convince her that he wasn’t like her father or Patrick; he could be relied on to be there for her; he wouldn’t disappear when bad times came or tough decisions had to be made.
Aoife had said he needed a woman who’d kick his ass, and Danny ticked all the boxes. She’d not only kick his ass, she’d pull the rug from under his feet and give him a right hook while she was at it. She’d held up a mirror and shown Ross how he’d become an arrogant, petulant, self-centred pain.
Thousands of miles separated them, but the essence of her had travelled with Ross. In the middle of an interview he’d think about something she’d said or done and have to ask for the question to be repeated. Matt had downloaded some extra songs onto Ross’s iPod to listen to on flights and during car rides between publicity appearances, including Danny’s Split Enz CD. As soon as he heard ‘I See Red’ he recognized it as the tune Danny had hummed a lot when they’d first met. When he heard the lyrics he laughed. Now he understood—and also realized that she seldom hummed it anymore. When he listened to the plaintive ‘Message to My Girl’ and Neil Finn sang about being scared to admit what he felt because it might give away too much, Ross knew exactly what he meant. He had to figure out a way to coax Danny out of the emotional trenches she’d dug around herself without spooking her.
What had happened on their birthday hadn’t been about seduction, it had been about need. It had been so long since Ross had to bother seducing any woman that he wasn’t sure he even knew how to anymore. Seducing Danny would be like trying to get up close and personal with a porcupine. If she even suspected he wanted more than her body, Lloyd might have to make good on his promise to exhume Ross’s remains from the back garden and ship him home to the States. Ross didn’t want to be Danny’s friend; he wanted the total package. Since he’d begun doing the publicity for John Doe, Ross had been surrounded by beautiful women who’d made it clear they found him attractive. But he wasn’t even tempted. None of them had blue hair or dressed like bag ladies. He returned to his solitary bed each night to stare at a strange ceiling, stubbornly refusing to take his hands from behind his head and do something to ease the throbbing in his groin.
The phone rang. It was the concierge. ‘The limousine is waiting to collect you from the lobby, Mr O’Rourke.’
‘Thank you. I’ll be right down.’
Ross shrugged into his suit jacket, shot the cuffs, and picked up his iPod for the journey to the London theatre, where the premiere was being held. As he walked to the door of the hotel suite he knew he wouldn’t take in any of what he saw or heard on the screen; he’d be too busy worrying about what might go wrong if Danny was meeting her family. What if they let her down the way her mother and father had? Even Danny had her breaking point, and when it came to her family she was defenceless. Ross wished he wasn’t so far away. He wanted to be there if things went wrong.
He wasn’t a man who spent a lot of time praying, but Ross sent a silent prayer winging to New Zealand, to Edward and Pania Smith and their sons.
Don’t let her down. Don’t hurt her. She’s waited so long. She needs you.
And I need her to be happy.
Several hours later in Rotorua, Danny gasped as a red tractor barrelled up the driveway to her grandparents’ house, narrowly missing the rear bumper of her car.
‘Hemi!’ Ted, her grandfather, got up from the table to bang on the window. ‘Watch Danny’s car and my bloody roses, d’you hear?’ He was a big, tall man who stood straight as a rugby goalpost. His eyes were bright blue and he had a head of white hair.
Danny held her breath as the tractor veered to the left and stopped just short of Henare’s black SUV and Tipene’s ute. The black-singleted driver cut the engine and climbed down. ‘Hemi drives…a tractor?’ She’d always thought farmers driving around town on farm bikes and tractors were just a myth created by townies.
‘Not usually.’ Pania Smith made her way slowly towards the table with a plate of pikelets, adding them to the fruit cake, sandwiches and sausage rolls spread across the yellow-flowered tablecloth. ‘But he was working on the farm when we called to say you were here, so he probably thought it was quickest to drive straight over.’
Pania was stooped and tiny and walked with the aid of a stick. When Danny looked into her face, she saw what her mother would have looked like if she’d lived to old age.
Hemi Smith stepped into the room and immediately filled it with his smile and size. ‘Morning.’ He winked at his father. ‘Those roses of yours are looking good, Dad.’
Ted growled and sat down at the table.
Hemi looked at Danny sitting at the other end of the table. ‘So, you’re Rose’s girl.’
Like Tipene and Henare had before him, Hemi inspected Danny thoroughly before coming forward to take her hand, kiss her cheek, and smother her against his chest. The brothers were so much alike that Danny had trouble telling them apart. Fortunately, Henare had the beginnings of a paunch, Tipene’s ears stuck out, and Hemi was missing a front tooth.
Hemi looked out the window at Matt and Mia, who were inspecting the tractor. ‘Are those your kids?’
‘No,’ Danny replied. ‘My niece and nephew.’
He scratched his head and pulled out a chair. ‘Hard to imagine Rosie as a grandmother.’
Pania beckoned Henare and Tipene to the table and eased herself carefully into the chair that Ted pulled out for her. ‘Now we’re all here, we can talk. I’m sure Danny has got lots of questions.’ She picked up the plate of pikelets and held it out to Danny. ‘You’d better get in quick before those three clean us out.’
Danny obediently took a pikelet, but was too nervous to eat it so she put it on her plate.
Ted pointed to a big stainless-steel teapot and a coffee plunger. ‘Tea? Or coffee?’
‘Tea, please. I don’t like coffee.’
‘Me, neither.’ Pania handed her walking stick to Henare, who hooked it on the back of her chair. She looked at Danny. ‘You’ve been waiting longest, so you should go first. What do you want to know?’
Rose Smith had left home when she was nineteen, after her father found out she was having an affair with a married man.
‘I told her I didn’t want her under my roof if she was going to carry on with a scoundrel like Dave Blackstaff.’ Ted shook his head. ‘I never expected she’d actually go. She packed her bags and asked Blackstaff to leave his wife and set up with her, but he never meant any of the things he’d promised her, and next thing we knew she’d disappeared to Auckland.’
‘We tried to find her,’ Pania said. ‘The boys went back and forth to Auckland for months.’
Henare took up the story. ‘We never got so much as a whiff of her; it was as if she’d disappeared into thin air. Rosie was always her own worst enemy. She lived in a dream world and she wouldn’t have it when you tried to put her straight about anything.’
Tipene nodded agreement. ‘If bullshit was music, Rosie would have had her own orchestra.’
Danny slanted a look at her grandparents, who were nodding.
‘Too pretty, that was Rosie’s problem,’ Hemi pronounced. ‘All the boys were after her.’
‘Which was why seeing her with a mongrel like Dave Blackstaff was so hard to swallow,’ Ted added bitterly. ‘She could have taken her pick.’
‘We’re just going round and round in circles,’ Pania said wearily. ‘It won’t change anything. Rose made her choices and we just have to live with that.’ She watched Matt and Mia come into the room and stop when they saw all the food on the table. ‘How about you kids take some of this food and go and watch the television while the grown-ups talk their boring old talk?’
Mia and Matt looked questioningly at Danny, who nodded. They heaped pikelets and sausage rolls onto two plates and went into the living room.
‘So what happened to her?’ Hemi asked when they were out of earshot. ‘What happened to Rosie?’
Danny told them, leaving nothing out. When she said Rose had died of breast cancer, they all looked shaken.
‘And your sister?’ Pania murmured.
‘Breast cancer—earlier this year.’
Tipene shoved his chair back from the table. ‘That bloody disease! It’s a curse on this family.’
‘What do you mean?’ Danny searched their faces. ‘What does he mean?’
Hemi muttered, ‘Two of Mum’s nieces and one of her sisters died of breast cancer.’
Danny’s hands trembled. She pressed them against the table. A pair of small, wrinkled brown hands covered them. Danny looked up into Pania’s warm, brown eyes and saw understanding. ‘I’m still here, Danny.’ Her grandmother’s grip was surprisingly strong. ‘It got my twin sister, but it didn’t get me.’
Danny clutched her hands. ‘You’re a twin?’
Pania nodded. ‘We’re the strong ones, you and I; we’re spared for a reason. Ted and your mother and my boys were my reason.’ She nodded towards the living room where Mia and Matt were sprawled on the floor in front of the television. ‘Those are yours.’
‘Auntie Danny!’ Mia yelled.
‘That girl’s got an awesome set of lungs,’ Tipene observed dryly.
‘Auntie Danny! Uncle Ross is on the TV!’
‘Hurry up!’ Matt yelled. ‘You’re missing it!’
Danny rushed into the living room.
Ross’s stay in New Zealand had generated enough local interest to warrant the premiere of John Doe making the national news. The interview had been filmed a few hours earlier. Ross stood on the red carpet outside a London theatre flanked by Kevin Spacey and Marisa Tomei while crowds braved the chilly night to shout and scream their excitement at seeing their idols.
Danny studied Marisa critically. She wasn’t that pretty. She stared hungrily at Ross. He’d had his hair cut since she’d last seen him, his black curls were tamed and his jaw was stubble-free. He wore a dark suit and white shirt and looked relaxed and very at home in front of the camera. The top button of the shirt was open and showed his beautiful olive skin and the crisp dark hair at the base of his throat.
Sarah, the interviewer, was the European correspondent for one of the New Zealand television channels. ‘So when will you be back in New Zealand, Ross?’ she asked and tilted the microphone towards him.
‘Early next month. I’ve got to finish fixing the roof on the house.’
‘He’s got sheep problems, too,’ Kevin said, and Marisa laughed.
‘Oh yes, the sheep!’ Sarah exclaimed. ‘There’s been some very interesting photographs of you making the rounds in recent months.’ She smiled coyly at the camera before turning back to Ross. ‘Do you make a habit of driving around with two sheep in the back of your car?’
Ross arched a brow. ‘I have to explain that to a Kiwi girl? The sheep got out. How else was I supposed to get them home?’
Sarah giggled up at him, and Danny longed to slap her. Ross’s temporary residence in New Zealand seemed to have turned him into an honorary Kiwi. Sarah asked Ross, Kevin and Marisa some questions about the film. It was obvious from their easy banter and the jokes made at each other’s expense that they enjoyed one another’s company. Ross smiled and hugged Marisa when she complained about how he and Kevin constantly ganged up on her, and Danny ground her teeth. She wanted to slap them all.
There was a call for Ross and the actors further along the red carpet, so Sarah thanked them all for talking to her and turned back towards the camera.
Ross lingered. ‘Is it OK if I say hi to my family in New Zealand before I go?’
Sarah beamed. ‘Of course.’ She handed him the microphone.
He smiled into the camera. ‘Hi Matt, hi Mia. I hope you’re getting something to eat besides oatmeal.’
Mia bounced up and down on the floor. ‘That’s us! He’s talking to us!’
Matt shushed her.
Ross stared into the camera lens. His smile grew more intimate and his voice dipped: ‘Hi Danny.’
Danny’s stomach somersaulted. She felt as if she was being sucked through the camera and into Ross’s warm, dark eyes. He handed the microphone back to Sarah, who asked, ‘Who’s Danny?’
Ross smiled. ‘Ah, now that would be telling.’
Sarah turned to the camera and began to speculate about who the mysterious Danny might be.
Danny, meanwhile, had the undivided attention of everybody in the living room.
‘Who,’ Ted demanded, ‘is that?’