Hana hugged the pastor goodbye as Logan loaded Phoenix into her car seat. She stayed quiet on the way home, processing her dark thoughts in the back seat while Logan eyed her nervously in the rear view mirror. He bit his lip, feeling he did that a lot of late.
Logan drove around the final bend and onto the driveway, slowing as the gates came into view. “What the hell?” The metal runner slid the entrance closed and the motor finished whirring as Logan shot a glance of alarm at Tama. Confused, he wound his window down and listened to the sound of a vehicle labouring up the slope to the house.
“Who’s that?” Tama hissed and Logan glared and shook his head. He mentally ran through the options, concluding it must be someone with a remote to the gate, or the security number. Those wishing them harm were currently behind bars. Even so, Logan buzzed the gate and climbed the driveway with caution, the Honda’s engine straining against the incline. He nudged Tama.
“Be ready for trouble at the top,” he whispered, indicating with his eyes he wasn’t joking.
Tama peered round at Hana. She stared at her hands, worrying at a plaster on her index finger and oblivious to the rising sense of foreboding. At the top of the driveway, Logan heaved a sigh of relief at the sight of Bodie’s police car pulled up on the flats. His stepson knocked on the front door and peered through the side windows, his navy uniform matching the painted porch.
Logan’s heart pounded with adrenaline as he wound down the window and parked on the slope to the garage. “Hey, bro’, how ya doing?” he called, relief making him more animated than usual. Then he caught sight of the strain in Bodie’s face.
Another male unwound his tall shape from Bodie’s passenger seat and Logan’s heart sank as Tama swore in disgust. “Odering!”
Hana emerged from the vehicle, eyeing the tall detective as though he might be dangerous. Their last meeting was less than cordial and she still burned from the man’s single-minded execution of his duty.
Inside the kitchen, Bodie filled the kettle and flicked the switch.
“That’s not a good sign,” Hana breathed. “A policeman making tea.” Her mind took her back to the memory of a policewoman making tea in the kitchen at Achilles Rise, having just informed her Vik was dead. “Will I need lots of sugar for my nerves?” she joked, her voice wavering.
Bodie’s eyes flashed a coded message which Hana felt too rattled to interpret. She saw the detective in her peripheral vision and swallowed anxiety as she gave him a tight smile.
Tama took the baby into the living room, laying the seat near the hearth rug and poking at the fire with the poker in short jabbing movements. He fantasised about prodding it through the detective’s chest and satisfied himself with adding another log to revive the flames. “Guy’s a dick!” he spat into the empty room.
Phoenix stayed asleep, her tiny cheeks a healthy pink, dusted by the quivering dark lashes. Tama listened to the rumble of voices in the kitchen and hesitated, wanting a drink but keen not to intrude. “The less time I spend around that jerk, the better!” he decided, pulling the car seat towards him. He settled on the rug and flicked the TV on, becoming engrossed in a Sunday afternoon movie about talking dogs and cats.
Tension built next door in the kitchen as Bodie fussed over drinks, plonking a teapot on the table and clanking around with cups, milk and sugar. Hana’s nervous anticipation built to a frenzy and sensing it, Logan sat next to her, his arm protectively around her shoulder.
Odering let Bodie fluff around and then drew his infamous notebook from his inside jacket pocket. With a glance at his junior officer, he opened his lips. “I’ve come to inform you,” he began and Hana winced, holding her breath until she felt ill. “Michel L’Huillier also known as Michael Laval, died yesterday at the secure remand unit of Waitakere Prison.”
Logan exhaled and Hana shook her head. “No,” she said, “he can’t have.”
Bodie poured tea into Hana’s favourite china mug and pushed it towards her. She traced a shaking finger along a line of strawberries on its painted surface and felt the heat sting her skin. “No.” She shook her head with vigour, not comprehending the detective’s announcement. In her head she returned to her kidnapper’s handsome, clean shaven face as he gripped her around the waist and forced her to look at his school photographs. His sixteen-year-old image sat alongside Logan’s boyish, gangly body in the photo. Laval was so vibrant and dangerous. He couldn’t be dead, just like that.
“How did he die?” Logan asked and Hana tried to run back from the memory of Laval’s flashing, alluring eyes which oozed menace and punished her for his hatred of Logan. She fought to stay in the present, the nightmare threatening to overwhelm her and drag her back into its spiky clutches. Hana struggled, used to the fear running amok at night but not during daylight.
“This hasn’t been released to the press yet, but he hung himself,” Odering said, eyeing Hana with wary concern. “The post mortem stated he died of self-inflicted injury.”
Hana held her breath too long and exhaled in a rush. Logan’s brow knitted and without looking, he pulled her closer into his side. “How could he kill himself?” Hana asked, her voice wobbling. “He was in prison; it’s not possible.”
The detective shrugged. “I don’t know, Hana,” he said, rubbing his eyes in tiredness. He used her first name with a familiar ease which irked Logan and made him stiffen. “It’ll be investigated. It happened in the gymnasium but the coroner will examine the facts.”
“On the plus side, Mum,” Bodie said, ever the optimist, “you don’t need to give evidence against him. It’s over.”
Odering gritted his teeth and exhaled. “Yeah and two years’s work are a total waste of time and resources.”
All eyes turned to the smartly dressed man, who had the decency to look ashamed. “Sorry,” he said, “just venting. Please don’t repeat that. I worked to see justice and now, all that’s a waste. I could’ve taken a hit out on him in the first place and saved a fortune.”
Logan let out a snort of laughter and raised his eyebrows but Bodie looked shocked. He opened his mouth and then closed it again, realising he was privy to his superior’s unbridled frustration and nothing more. The mood became sombre and conversation died as Hana and Logan digested the news. Their reactions were different.
Logan felt nothing but relief. There were good reasons why his sister had divorced Laval and Logan promised he would never tell. He’d kept his word for over twenty years, protecting Liza from further emotional destruction, her secret told only to him and her mother. Sickness roiled in his stomach at the thought of Laval touching Hana and a glance at Odering revealed similar sentiments. “I’m not sorry,” Logan declared, his voice sounding loud in the kitchen. “His father pleaded guilty and now he’s gone. I’m glad.”
“I feel cheated,” the detective sergeant confessed, rubbing his eye with the knuckles of his index finger as his promised promotion dribbled through his hands. “I’ve nothing to show for endless late nights and countless attempts to corner one of Auckland’s nastiest criminals, except a marriage teetering on the brink of disaster and children who look at me wide-eyed, without recognition when I turn up at home.” Odering looked at Logan with a flash of jealousy, resenting his arm around Hana, grounding her.
Odering shook his head, remembering his first meeting with Logan as a detective. Logan Du Rose was exactly where Odering expected to find him, squaring up to one of his terrified officers because the foolish man dared to disrespect the beautiful, dishevelled woman in the hospital gown. Odering hated to admit it, but he admired Logan. He possessed mana – that inner influence and authority which couldn’t be bought, only born and added to. He’d always had it, even as a teenager much younger than Tama.
“I couldn’t care less about Laval, L’Huillier, whatever he called himself,” Bodie said into the silence. “It’s a good result and I’m glad we don’t need to waste tax payer’s money putting him on trial, watching him nobble a jury and get off on a technicality.”
Hana wondered when her son became so cynical, seeing traces of irritation in his stance and attitude. He was on his way home when Odering collared him, insisting he drive him to his mother’s place. Bodie wondered why the detective couldn’t drive himself and bridled, not understanding why Odering repeatedly asked for a traffic cop for lackey duty. Hana’s son flicked at a speck of dust on his uniform trousers and contemplated telling him to get lost next time.
After a lengthy, awkward silence, the detective finished his drink and stood up to leave, offering a handshake to Logan and Hana. It seemed like the end of an era. “Hopefully,” he said, cheering up, “I can focus on something else, including my poor wife; we three should never meet again.”
Hana felt offended by his enthusiasm but Logan smirked. Bodie kissed his mother and shook Logan’s hand. “See you at soccer training on Wednesday.” He poked his head around the living room door and saw his baby sister sitting in her car seat watching TV. Tama lay on the hearth rug face down. Bodie felt a stab of irrational jealously at Tama’s parasitic presence in Hana’s home, quelling the thought with surprise at its vehemence.
Logan shut the front door and leaned against it, his forehead creased in thought. He shook his head to clear it and observed Hana as she collected the cups from the kitchen table. “Thank you, God,” he whispered to himself, knowing the anticipated nightmare in court had consumed his thoughts for more time than he wanted to waste.
Next morning, Logan left for work on his motorbike while Hana got her stuff together and promised to be at the staff accommodation by lunchtime. “I don’t feel like uprooting myself again, but I will, just for you.”
Logan kissed her, his lips soft as he ran his hands over the small of her back with a veiled, unspoken promise. “Just for this year,” he breathed into her hair. “We live on the school site during the week and go home on my weekends off.”
“Yeah, I know,” his wife agreed with a sigh. “But I never promised to like it.”
Hana moved with deliberate slowness, tidying up, packing their belongings and feeding the baby. Phoenix seemed extra tired and Hana laid her back in the cot to snooze while she worked. Tama showered and while he in the bathroom, Hana stripped his bed and put the sheets to wash, planning to hang them on the line in the garage to dry and pop back mid-week to fold them. She savoured the excuse to return home for a few hours.
Tama came back from his shower wearing a towel around his waist and Hana turned to leave so he could dress. He slumped on the bare mattress and she noticed his rounded shoulders and the shroud of depression hanging over him. “What time do you need to leave?” she asked, hating goodbyes. “I’ll miss you but you can come home in your next break.” She bit her lip. “Only if you want to though; you’ve probably got friends and other places to be.” Hana gave the teenager a sad smile and turned, rallying herself to deal with the pending loneliness.
Tama’s shrug caused her to stop and face him. He swiped a hand across his mouth and Hana recognised his signs of distress. “Sweetheart?” she said, her brow knitted in concern. She plonked herself on the bed beside him and waited. She didn’t have to sit long.
“I don’t want to go back,” Tama gushed. “The college course - it’s just not for me. I’ve tried hard and I get good grades, but it’s not what I want.”
Hana sighed and pondered the irony; that for the second time in a decade, she was having the same conversation with another young man in her care. This time, she drew on what she learned the first time, when Bodie quit university and joined the police. Her reaction then wasn’t commendable and she allowed the memory to guide her interaction with Tama.
“Uncle Logan suggested it last year and I thought it sounded cool,” Tama began, nervousness lacing his sentence with halts and stammers. “He paid my fees and it made it easy for me to give it a go. The halls are good, my room’s nice and the work’s easy but...” Tama worried at his thumbnail. “Ma, I’m not interested in soil maintenance, stock health and milk yields. I got ninety percent in my last test; I scored top and my classmates were jealous because they studied harder. I felt a fraud because I didn’t care, ya know? It was all about impressing Uncle Logan and justifying his faith in me, but I can’t do it anymore. I don’t have the heart and if I stay, I know I’ll screw up through sheer boredom.”
Tama ran his hand through his dark hair like a small boy. Hana put her arm around him and just for a moment, treated him as such. “I get it,” she sighed, feeling Tama’s relief. “I understand you wanting to please him and ending up pushed down a path for the wrong reasons. He’ll understand.” Hana prayed she hadn’t overestimated Logan’s sense of compassion, aware only she ever got to see it. “We’ll talk to him together tonight,” she offered and saw a tear plop onto Tama’s hands. His fingers writhed in his lap and sweat dribbled down his temple. She kept her arm around the teenager, not wanting to draw attention to his tears and knowing how much the Du Rose men detested displays of emotion.
“What’s your plan?” she asked him and Tama sat up straighter. He wiped the back of his hand across his eyes and surprised her with a smile which lit his face.
“I applied to the fire service and passed all the physical and medical tests. I’ve got a formal interview in Auckland next Friday.”
“Wow!” Hana replied. “I thought you were just quitting college; I didn’t realise you’d done so much towards sorting yourself out.” She squeezed his muscular shoulder in her tiny hand, “I’m so proud of you, Tama Du Rose.”
He turned his face towards her and she saw gratitude in his eyes. “You’ve been a lifeline for me,” he whispered. “You make me want to do better, to be better.”
“It’s mutual,” Hana said, stroking his wet hair away from his face. “There’s a good plan for your life. Ecclesiastes 9, verse 10, ‘Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.’ You’ll make an awesome fireman, Tama.” Hana frowned at her naughtiness for half quoting scripture. She figured Tama might misunderstand the next part about death and hoped the good Lord didn’t mind too much. She thought He probably would though.
“You’re amazing, Ma,” Tama said, hugging her into his damp armpit. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“We both love you, you know,” Hana said softly. “We want you to be fulfilled in whatever you do.” She felt Tama nod against her temple. “You’ll find a lovely girl one day and all Logan wanted was for you to have the skills to provide for her and your family. He meant well.”
“He wanted me to take over the farm and hotel, didn’t he?” Tama asked and Hana cringed.
“That’s between you and him, sweetheart.” She suspected Logan’s motivation in sending Tama to an agricultural college was exactly that, but didn’t want to trespass into the men’s complicated relationship. Generous as Logan’s designs might seem, the multi-millionaire hadn’t asked Tama what he wanted to do with his life and Hana shied away from being part of that belated conversation.
“I’m waiting,” Tama said into Hana’s hair. His voice sounded wistful.
“What?” She sat up, looking at him in confusion.
“I’m waiting,” he repeated, “for the lovely girl youse mentioned. I’ve realised I haven’t met my soul mate yet. I’m gonna wait for a while. Uncle Logan made a big mistake settling for Caroline when he really wanted you. So I’m waiting, like Logan wished he did.”
Hana stiffened at the mention of Caroline’s name but tried hard to focus on Tama’s words. “What’s brought this on?” she asked, liking the improvement but suspicious of its origins. Since his affair with Anka, Tama showed no morals regarding sexual encounters, as though he’d already stepped over the line once so might as well enjoy himself. “And what makes you think Logan wished he waited for me?”
“Oh, crap!” Tama instantly withdrew from her, physically and emotionally.
Hana watched him through a narrowed gaze as he winced and closed his eyes. “Tama, you have to tell me now you’ve started. Did Logan actually say that?”
The teenager stood and dug around in his bag, searching for clean clothes and pointedly ignoring her.
“Fine then!” Hana said with childish indignation, wondering inwardly why it mattered so much. “I’ll just ring Logan and ask him myself.” She stamped along the hallway and picked up the phone. Her brow furrowed as she tried to decide whether to ring Logan’s cell phone or the direct line to his office, knowing he’d be understandably cross at her foolish interruption. Hana chewed her lip in thought. Logan never discussed the girlfriends of his youth, not even Caroline, his ex fiance. He preferred to leave the past where it fell; behind him. Hana peered at the keypad and convinced herself it didn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. She had Logan now, all to herself.
Tama skidded from his bedroom in boxer shorts, one leg in his jeans as he hopped along the hallway, dealing with the other. He saw Hana with the phone in her hand and panicked. “Don’t, please don’t!” he begged, seizing the phone and holding it above his head so Hana reach it.
She narrowed her eyes and slapped his chest in frustration. “Give it back!” she said through gritted teeth. Inwardly she relented; if her husband shared a confidence with his nephew, it was none of her business.
Unaware of Hana’s thinking, Tama bottled. “It’s ok; I’ll tell you. Just don’t ring him. Please.”
Hana tutted and strode into the kitchen, hoping their antics hadn’t woken Phoenix. She stood with her hands on her hips and observed the teenager as he put the phone back in its cradle and followed her. He zipped his trousers, eyeing her warily. “He didn’t say it outright,” Tama insisted, “but it’s exactly what he meant. He said, ‘I was young, but I knew then I loved her. I searched for her without success for years. Then last year, I moved to Hamilton and there she was.’ I heard it in his voice, like everything in between was a waste; he was on hold, settling for second best until he found you. I realised I’m doing the same thing, having meaningless one night stands just to dull the pain. So, I’ve decided I’ll wait for my soul mate.”
Hana shook her head in surprise. “This is really different,” she said. “I’m proud of you.” Her green eyes narrowed and fixed on Tama’s bowed head, watching him fit his feet into socks with holes at the toes. “Who did you hear Logan say that to?” she asked.
Tama groaned and rested his head on his forearms. “No!” he moaned sadly, “I didn’t want you to ask me that.”
Hana’s curiosity was piqued and she grinned with mischief. “I decided I wasn’t bothered what Logan said, but you’ve got me interested now. So come on, give.”
Tama sat and weighed his options while Hana sipped a glass of water and stared at his bowed head. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” He sounded a mixture of scared and angry and Hana sniggered, curiosity proving a relentless master.
“Nope. You might as well tell me now because I’m not going to shut up about it.”
“Logan should tell you himself,” Tama grumbled and Hana’s eyes lit with a sense of desperation.
“You’re making it worse. Now I really want to know!” She sat in a kitchen chair and folded her arms, eyeballing the young man until he cracked.
“He would have told you last night,” Tama whinged, “but the cops came and you seemed upset.”
Hana sat up and swallowed. “So it’s something bad? He waited for me but now he doesn’t love me anymore, does he? He planned to tell me and then Odering and Bo showed up. Oh, no, what am I going to do?”
“No! Stop, you’re making it worse!” Tama felt his loyalty stretch to breaking point, hammered to a fine line between Logan and Hana. “Uncle Logan won’t trust me again if I tell you and it’s taken months to earn his respect back. You’re just not getting it!” He sounded frustrated, his cheeks flushing and his fists balling by his sides.
Tama grew up strong and good looking. Nobody else instilled confidence or self-worth into him so he manufactured it for himself, indulging his wants and desires at will. Logan’s mother, Miriam, was a stabilising factor in his young life, but her constant visits to Reuben made her example faulty. She drove her lover mad and damaged him just as Caroline tortured Logan and Kane, so Tama’s view of women became skewed.
His dreadful experience with Anka confirmed what he already knew - that women were selfish and dangerous, taking what they wanted as long as it suited them, before dropping a man on his face in the dirt. Even the good men. Especially the good men. Tama learned to use and abuse and it served him well until he met Hana.
“You’re different,” he blurted. “You’re fragile and gentle. You care about people’s feelings. You hit me around the head with your handbag because I hurt Logan, even though he can take care of himself. No woman’s ever shown me such loyalty. You’ve changed my life and I can’t settle for a quick shag behind the bins anymore with some random girl from a nightclub.” He waved his arms and shook his head to emphasise disgust at his former lovemaking choices.
“Oh.” Hana swallowed, looking dumbfounded. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You make me want to tell you stuff,” Tama whispered. “But I owe Logan everything.”
Hana nodded. “Then let’s forget it,” she said, forcing a smile onto her lips. “If Logan had a conversation about me, he’ll tell me if I’m meant to know.” Insecurity bit at her soul and she struggled to push it away. She was beautiful and honest and Tama felt a sudden rush of fealty mixed with gratitude.
“It’s ok,” he said. “I’ll tell you who he was talking to, but Uncle Logan’s gonna kill me.”