Hana fed Phoenix mushed up casserole which she devoured before putting away a jar of apple crumble baby food. The effort of eating left the baby exhausted and after a short play with Tama and a change of nappy, she looked pleased to be in her cot.
“You eating, Ma?” Tama asked, making himself a sandwich.
Hana shook her head. “No, thanks. Everything gives me indigestion at the moment.” She rubbed a hand over her chest and winced.
“See the doctor,” Tama replied and Hana nodded.
“Yeah. I keep meaning to make an appointment.”
“Do it now,” he suggested and Hana frowned.
“I will,” she said, making no effort to reach for her phone. “Have you ever seen a crop of marijuana?”
“Nope,” Tama replied with his mouth filled with bread. “The growers set traps and stuff. Not safe places to be.”
Hana paced the floor. “I wonder where it is; I know the gully reasonably well through helping with the gully restoration. It doesn’t make sense; the boys go down there all the time. Whatever Collins hid must be outside the school site and closer to town. I thought it needed heat lamps and poly-tunnels.”
“Don’t even think about it.” Tama eyed her nervously, reading the danger signs.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hana lied. “I’m going for a lie down.”
After five minutes, Tama crept along the hallway and discovered Hana searching in the shoe cupboard. She had a gum boot in one hand and a guilty look on her face. “I wondered where these were,” she said, a picture of innocence. “They’re my favourite ones.”
“Yeah,” Tama muttered, snatching it from her and shoving it on the top shelf. “And it’s staying in here. Don’t make me call Uncle Logan to sort you out!”
“Sort me out!” Hana scoffed. When Tama opened his mouth she put a finger to her lips. “Don’t wake the baby.” She flounced into her bedroom and closed the door and Tama hid the other boot in the pantry and phoned his uncle.
Logan appeared to find Hana in the laundry, fitting trainers on her feet. “Oh no, you don’t!” he snapped from behind her. He sounded angry and Hana cringed, not hearing him creep up on her. “You go down there and the cops will arrest you. If they don’t charge you for obstruction, you’ll still make it look like you have a vested interest. They might start wondering if Collins had a female business partner.”
“But I’ve never seen a patch of marijuana,” Hana whined, “it sounds really technical and hard to grow. I thought I’d have a wander down and see.”
“Do you think they’re handing out tickets or something? Gold coin donation for a look at the hash stash!”
“Now you’re being silly,” Hana replied, pouting and folding her arms across her chest.
“No, you’re the one being silly!” Logan retorted. He stalked into the bedroom and laid backwards on the bed. Dark circles ringed his eyes.
“How’s James?” Hana asked climbing next to him and Logan shrugged.
“Weird. Not like James-weird but much, much weirder!”
Hana tutted. “You see that’s the whole point,” she said. “All this wanting to go home when he’s so near finishing Year 13; it doesn’t make sense. He’s been homesick for almost five years so what’s different now? I think he’s scared of somebody. He knows something and feels unsafe staying here. Whoever frightened him must be more terrifying than turning up in Korea empty handed because every adult in his immediate family contributes to his education. James needs university entrance or he might as well not go home at all. Who could be more frightening to him than all those family members put together?”
Logan said nothing and his eyes remained shut, making Hana assume he’d fallen asleep. She smirked and lifted her bottom off the bed, taking her weight in her knees so as not to rock the mattress as she stood. The lure of the gully called and she smelled success. The mattress stayed level as she stood up straight, a smile of victory on her face. Almost there, she felt Logan’s strong legs close around her thighs like a clamp. As hard as she wriggled, he wouldn’t let go, laying on the bed with his arms above his head, smirking and watching her wrestle. As Hana grunted with exertion and temper, he sat up and lurched forwards, catching her and pulling her backwards on top of him. His arms wound around her middle, keeping hers firmly pinned by her sides so she couldn’t get away. “Do you ever listen to anything I say?” he asked next to her ear, half amused, half cross.
“Yes!” she responded crossly. “I listen to you all the time! It doesn’t mean I have to do what you say though.” Logan tutted and didn’t let her go.
“Hana Du Rose, you’re a real pain sometimes.”
“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Hana grumbled as her husband nuzzled at the back of her neck.
“Yep, and I’m here.” Logan manoeuvred his wife off him by sliding her across his front and letting her fall to his right side. It was mean because he knew the skin on her left wrist was still tender and she wouldn’t risk hurting it by resisting. It gave him the advantage as he tucked her under his arm and kept her pinned. “You’re not going anywhere,” he said firmly. “So nor am I!”
“I only wanted to look!” Hana bit. “I thought I might understand what happened when James went down there. It doesn’t to add.”
“That’s what Odering and your son are for. You know them don’t you? The cops!”
Hana still argued. “You know what I’m talking about; I can see it in your face. James is scared and I want to know why.”
Logan kept hold of his wife. “I know what you mean but there’s nothing we can do about it. James wouldn’t talk to Bodie, not before or after he thumped him in the face. I sat with James while he gave his statement the other day and all he wanted to talk about was the damn plane.” Logan’s eyes narrowed and the idea presented itself, a brainwave which wasn’t of such epic proportions really. It was just logical.
Logan wouldn’t let his wife go and found a way to keep her in the bed with him. “Stop!” she complained as he teased her blouse from her jeans. “Tama can hear.”
“No, he’s gone out,” Logan breathed, pressing his lips to the soft skin above Hana’s breasts.
“He texted you, didn’t he?” Hana’s voice sounded flat. “I’ll kill him.”
“Well, don’t bury him in the compost heap.” Logan’s fingers worked their way into her jeans. His eyes had a sparkly quality and Hana knew it was useless resisting him, besides which, she didn’t want to.
“You’re a very bad boy,” she sighed as he settled his lips over hers.
“Really?” Logan asked, his voice soft as he found the clasp at the back of her bra and popped it. Mischief lit his eyes and Hana laughed and shook her head.
Tama returned home absolutely filthy and thought he might have broken his finger. “They might look weedy but those Year 9s are pretty violent,” he complained. He took one look at the lovebirds cuddled up on the sofa and felt glad he’d slunk out. Logan sat up, his legs clad in old tracksuit pants and his chest bare. Hana laid sideways with her legs over his and her husband massaged her feet through her socks.
Tama pulled a face. “Sometimes old people are really embarrassing,” he grumbled.
“You’d know,” Logan yawned. “You’ve bedded enough of them.”
“Ha ha,” Tama commented in a squeaky voice and Logan smirked. “At least you stopped your wife making a big mistake,” he muttered, staring into the fridge.
Hana leaned backwards and glared at him. “Traitor!”
Tama shrugged. “I never appreciated how hard it was keeping a woman. They’re more objectionable than stroppy heifers. Maybe I’m better off single.”
“Hey buddy,” Logan said to Tama over the top of Hana’s head. “I’ve taken tomorrow off and wondered if you wanted company on the drive up to Auckland. If you’re nervous, it might help to have someone else drive you.”
“Naw, you big softie,” Hana whispered to her husband, cuffing him round the back of the head and then ruffling his hair.
Tama’s emotions moved through feeling thrilled to worried. Logan watched him with narrowed eyes. “Hey, it’s fine,” he soothed. “I don’t mind if you’d rather go alone.”
Tama put his head down and gazed at the floor. “It’s not that. It’s just you guys are both amazing. Tomorrow’s interview is in a different place to the fitness stuff and I’d love you to come with me. I’m worrying about getting lost and being late.”
Hana shook her head as Tama came to stand in front of her. “It’ll be more stressful taking Phoe; I’ll stay home with her and you can tell me all about it afterwards. You and Logan have some ‘boy time.’ I feel tired at the moment and think I’m coming down with something.”
Tama smiled, thinking she was making an excuse. “I guess Phoe would make us work to her timetable,” he agreed.
Logan looked at his wife sideways. “You are tired a lot but Phoe wakes up less at night. Why don’t you book an appointment with the doctor?”
“I keep forgetting,” Hana said, pursing her lips and avoiding Tama’s narrowed gaze. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Make sure you do,” Logan said, asserting his authority. He rubbed her foot with renewed vigour. “I’ll make sure you get a good rest during the holidays. They’re only a week away.”
Hana smiled and nodded. She fed the baby and went to bed early while Logan made a series of phone calls and nipped back to St Bart’s. He was gone for hours.
In the morning, Hana helped Tama into his new clothes and Logan persuaded him to tie his necktie properly. “Come here, idiot,” he said, pulling Tama towards him and tying it himself.
“You look amazing,” Hana said, smiling with pride. She hugged and kissed the young man before walking him to the car. “Good luck, Tama. I’ll be praying for you.”
Logan stayed behind for a moment to kiss his wife goodbye and issue a strict warning. “Do not go near James today, Hana. He’s got an assessment this afternoon so leave him for now. Please? Don’t go asking him questions. He needs to concentrate and put his energies into this.”
Hana smiled and faked her best obedient-wife-face. “The last thing I want to do is screw the boy’s chances of getting the results he needs,” she said, sounding convincing. “Make sure you drive carefully and text when you’re on your way home. I need to clear my lovers out.”
“I bet,” Logan joked and slapped her bum.
“Stop, old people!” Tama complained through the passenger window. “I’m feeling delicate already.”
Hana waved until they turned the corner and then tidied the unit for her brother’s arrival. Mark instigated the visit and Hana looked forward to seeing him. Logan expected to be back after lunch and Hana thought that it a good opportunity for her brother to meet her boys. She felt self-conscious about the tiny shoebox doubling as a home for four people and she cleaned it, piling the detritus from Tama’s haphazard living arrangements into the baby’s room behind the door. “Time for a cup of tea,” she sighed to herself, sitting on the sofa and feeling alarmed when she woke an hour later. Putting it down to a bad night with her teething baby, Hana ignored the tightness in her chest, blaming it on an unnatural sleeping position during the night. She slapped makeup on her tired, pale face and practiced smiling in the mirror.
Nervousness made her jittery with the anticipation of allowing Mark onto her turf and Hana kept busy, making a pasta dish for when the men got home. She pottered around, not daring to sit down again.
Mark’s knock on the door was quiet and thoughtful, a man who knew what it was to have young children disturbed in the middle of the day. Hana opened the door with a smile, standing back to let him enter. She tried not to make excuses for the place, feeling claustrophobic in its confines under the pressure of the situation. Mark stepped inside and removed his shoes one-handed, placing them out of the doorway and then handed her a bunch of flowers wrapped in pink paper. “Thank you. They’re beautiful.” Hana took the carnations with care, overwhelmed by the tears which pricked behind her eyes. Under the guise of finding a vase and making tea, she collected herself, making small talk and asking Mark about work.
He gave scant details, but it sounded like a gruelling schedule. “I get ten days off in just over a week,” he said, “to spend time with Mum and Dad.”
Hana cringed hearing Mark call Aunty Elaine ‘Mum’ and she concentrated on putting his drink into his hand without getting eye contact. But Mark saw her grief. “Sorry, I forget I’ve had years to get used to it, but you’ve had only days. Do you realise our mother’s been dead for twenty-six years soon?” His voice sounded soft and wistful and Hana nodded.
“I can tell you how many years, days, hours, minutes and seconds if you like. I to work it out daily at the moment,” Hana sighed. “I missed her with my older children but it seems worse now. I’m not sure why.”
Hana fetched a glass of water and sat on the sofa perpendicular to her brother’s. Sitting on what Logan jokingly called ‘Tama’s throne’ brought comfort, as well as an unhealthy dip in the cushions. She yawned, failing to cover it with her hand and apologised. “It was a bad night with the baby,” she gushed, feeling ashamed of herself. “She’s teething.”
“It must be a big ask, going back to the beginning again with motherhood,” Mark commented and Hana nodded.
“It’s way harder. I was ok at the start but lately I’m struggling. It’s just the time of year; I need some sunshine. I assumed when I remarried I was too old to get pregnant. I just got caught out.”
Mark smirked good-naturedly. “Is that twice in one lifetime then?”
“Three times actually,” Hana said, her cheeks pink and they both sniggered. “Bo and Izzie are close in age. I finished at university with an honours degree and two children. Vik always said we got value for money.”
They both laughed and Hana remembered what a nice laugh Mark had. It was as though she had wiped out the good parts of him, allowing one awful memory to swallow them up.
“I wish I’d given Vik a chance to prove me wrong instead of reacting to a bad situation and making it worse,” Mark said, wrinkling his nose in annoyance. “I’ve gone over it a million times and do it differently in my head each time. It’s a pity we can’t go back isn’t it?”
Hana nodded. “Wouldn’t it be amazing to take your wisdom back in time with you?”
“Absolutely.” Mark smiled. “So where’s your husband and the boy who sometimes lives with you?” Mark asked, trying to make polite conversation. “Dad said he’s fiercely protective of you.”
“Yes, he is,” Hana replied, feeling grateful. “Logan’s driven him to Auckland for an interview with the fire service.”
“Tama is Māori isn’t it?” Mark asked and Hana nodded.
“Ironically it means ‘son’ but he hasn’t been anyone’s son until now. Logan kept a fairly good handle on him as a distant uncle but since we married, we’ve taken responsibility for him. He’s coming right and has heaps of potential. He just needs a help to steer occasionally.”
The pair chatted and the ease of their last meeting returned as Mark talked about his life and what he’d done in the last twenty six years. “I’ve become a competent rock climber,” he told her, “and I’m fascinated by the New Zealand bush.” He expressed a keenness for exploring while he was there. “I’ve been offered a permanent contract but I don’t know if I’ll take it. I’d like to see as much of the country as possible in case I decide to return to England.”
“What will you base your decision on?” Hana asked. He exhaled and looked pensive.
“Well, obviously you being here will make a difference. But Dad’s been quite sick and I felt awful not being part of his treatment choices. It’s not the same over the telephone. So that may prove to be the biggest factor. I also have two sons in the UK who I live in hope of seeing again one day.”
Hana nodded, hearing the cry of his heart. “Kids hey,” she said gently, thinking of her son. “Who’d have ‘em?”
Mark laughed and agreed, wanting to know more about her children. Hana dragged out the envelope of photographs she’d set aside to post to Izzie and laid them out on the table to show to him. They offered a pictorial history of her life with Vik and filled in the gaps. Mark looked at each one, studying it with a surgeon’s precision. It made Hana feel as though he was genuinely interested. She left him peering at a family photo taken in a portrait studio at Vik’s parents’ insistence. “That was taken before we emigrated,” Hana said. “Vik’s mother paid for it. She loved the children but hated me.” The family laid on their fronts on a sea of grass, beaming. Vik had his arm around Izzie and Bodie had his arm around his mother. The lighting was fantastic and the grassy meadow awesome for a day out if it hadn’t been fake.
Hana returned with Phoenix, who rubbed her eyes and peered at Mark from a tired, grumpy face. “This is Uncle Mark,” Hana said, stroking her head.
“I’m not really, am I,” Mark asked, his face sad. “If I was your brother, I would be.”
Hana kissed her daughter’s temple and sighed. “Look, Mark, I’ll always think of you as my brother. I’m too old to cope with changes in status. Tama was a second cousin and now he’s a nephew who calls me Ma. Logan always says family’s what you make it. If it’s alright with you, I’d prefer Uncle Mark.”
Her handsome companion beamed and admired the baby, who peeked from Hana’s shoulder. “She’s beautiful,” he agreed, looking lighter of heart. Phoenix rubbed her eyes and nose with one hand, giving herself a mussed up appearance, her downy curls sticking up on one side. Her grey eyes studied Mark until it became uncomfortable and then popped her thumb in her mouth and snuggled in, putting her other hand between her and Hana as though she was cold. Hana popped the kettle on to boil again. “Do you mind if I feed Phoenix?” she asked.
Mark shook his head. “It’s fine, Hana; you don’t need to ask.”
She still felt embarrassed exposing her breast in front a man who’d become a stranger. Hana made coffee one-handed and laid it on the coffee table, sitting on the sofa with her daughter under her tee shirt. Luckily Phoenix drank instead of playing with everything in range; Hana’s tee shirt, hair, her own hair, the sofa or Tama. Perhaps the absence of Tama was key.
Hana found herself sharing honestly with Mark about the situation with Bodie, telling him how her son resented Logan. “It’s not like he’s five and I’ve wheeled Logan in as the new ‘daddy’,” she vented, “he’s twenty-six, for goodness sake. He has a fiance and a son. I accepted Jas straight away and I don’t understand why Bodie can’t return the favour.”
Mark looked wistful. “I’m sure my sons went through the same thing when my ex-wife remarried. They won’t speak to me, so I might never know.”
“I’m sorry,” Hana said. “You don’t need to hear my problems.”
“Is Jas Bodie’s baby?” Mark asked, struggling to place the family members in order. Hana shook her head.
“No, he’s a strapping five year old with attitude.” She sighed. “That’s not fair. He’s gorgeous but the first time I met him was on my wedding day.”
Mark’s eyes widened as Hana described her first meeting with Jas. “Logan and I got married in secret. He threw this huge birthday party so my son-in-law could marry us in the sight of God and everyone came thinking it was my birthday. I arrived there to find my son sporting a hot blonde policewoman and a little boy with an uncanny likeness for my daughter and his late father. It was surreal.” Hana shuddered. Perhaps it was how she told the dismal tale but Mark snorted with laughter.
“It wasn’t funny!” Hana admonished him with a smirk on her face. “Oh and that was the night Izzie told me in tears she was expecting a baby which later turned out to be two babies! I’m really off the idea of family parties now, especially as I think I got pregnant that night!”
Mark serenaded her with his beautiful tinkling laugh. Phoenix sat on Hana’s knee being winded and cracked a smile, displaying her little white pearly teeth for him. He smiled back at her. “You’re going to be a little heart-breaker,” he breathed. “She’s stunning with her dark hair and skin and striking grey eyes,” he commented and Hana felt pleased with her brother’s approval.
“Don’t say it,” Hana said and Mark’s brow knitted. Hana shook her head. “I saw you thinking it just then. You wondered if she carried the haemophiliac gene. I bet Dr Singh told you how he knew me. He probably told you why I was at the hospital too.”
Mark nodded. “Your husband was having a Factor Eight infusion.” He smiled. “Hana, it’s a little too late to stroll into your life and start telling you what to do, don’t you think?”
Hana laid the baby on the rug under the baby gym. In seconds, she had rolled over onto her tummy and tried to do the butterfly stroke on her belly.
“Just doing your lunch, Phoe,” Hana called as Phoenix grizzled, popping more casserole cubes in a bowl. “It’s pumpkin and kumara.” Hana whacked the bowl into the microwave to heat up. “I’m coming, baby.” Hana glanced at the rug, realising her child had gone quiet.
Mark had picked her up and held her on his hip. She reached up and touched dark hair going grey at the sides. The little girl didn’t grab or pull, seeming to stroke his hair and face with the gentlest of hands. It made Hana want to cry again and she looked away.
By the time the casserole was ready, Phoenix recognised the sound of her bowl and spoon and peered avidly towards the kitchen. Mark put her into the high chair, struggling with the straps as she wriggled. “Can I feed her?” he asked shyly.
So Hana sat on a chair and watched her long-lost-brother, who was really her cousin, feed her baby daughter. Hana wasn’t sure who enjoyed themselves the most. Mark did the old fashioned aeroplane moves, making Phoenix squeal as the spoon got close her mouth and then zoomed away again. Hana laughed. “I’m glad Tama’s not here to see this. He has enough great ideas to get her going loco.”
Hana nipped to the kitchen and mushed up blackberry crumble with a fork. The boys enjoyed it although they chewed theirs. Hana heated it up and sat it on the side for round two. “Dessert’s on the side,” she said, feeling proud of the illusion of capability. “We’ve got pasta cheese, but we’ll have it when the boys get home.”
The cheese crisped nicely on top of the pasta dish in the spotless oven and Hana closed it and put the oven glove back on its hook.
“Here they are now,” she said, hearing the frantic knocking on the front door. Assuming it was an excited Tama, Hana flung the door wide and greeted the knocker with an expectant smile. On her doorstep she found the biology teacher who rented her Flagstaff house and her smile drooped in surprise. “Oh, hi er...hi,” Hana said, replacing her smile and wishing she could remember his name. Logan called him, ‘the biology teacher’ and it was a bad habit they’d got into. “How can I help you?” she asked.
“There’s a student asking for you. He won’t come until you’ve seen him and I don’t know what to do with him,” the man gushed.
“Do you mean James?” Hana asked, wondering what other student would ask for her. “Are you sure he didn’t ask for Logan? He’ll be back soon.”
“No, definitely you. He asked for you by name.” The teacher nodded emphatically, beckoning with his hand and moving backwards off the step.
“I can’t come,” Hana said, looking conflicted. “I’m busy here.” She looked back at Phoenix who eagerly filled her mouth with bright orange pumpkin casserole and Hana shook her head at the man. “I’m sorry. I have a guest as well; you’ll have to find Pete or bring James here.” She heard Logan’s warning in her head, ‘Stay away from James. He has an assessment.’ “Doesn’t James have an internal exam today?” she asked, showing her confusion.
The biology teacher looked pleased, nodding like a cartoon tortoise. “He won’t do it until he’s seen you,” he said, looking relieved. “You have to come.”
Hana shook her head again, severely conflicted. She couldn’t abandon her child and brother, not even for someone as lovely as James. “Logan will sort it out when he gets home,” Hana promised, even though he was technically on leave. She shook her head and turned away from the door, finding Mark standing behind her. Phoenix sat in her chair looking stuffed, holding her spoon with her hand and licking it. Hana noticed she held it in her left hand, like her daddy.
“You go if you need to,” Mark said. “Phoenix and I will be fine for a few minutes. I can give her pudding and probably find her bedroom if she gets tired. If not, I’ll play with her for a while, if I can remember how. I don’t have to be in surgery for another two hours.”
Hana swallowed, instinct telling her to wait for Logan. She looked at the biology teacher’s flaccid face, seeing a line of sweat running into his collar. Not entirely sure why she didn’t want to go, Hana just knew she didn’t. She put her reluctance down to the overwhelming tiredness that seeped into her bones lately, but something else kept her dithering still. “We need to leave now,” the biology teacher said, grabbing Hana’s sore wrist and making her cry out.
“Hey, who are you?” Mark asked, sounding concerned. His brow knitted as he pushed his way past Hana.
“I work in the main building,” the man blustered, his breath coming in quick pants. “Mrs Du Rose mentors a student who is having emotional difficulties and asking for her.”
“It’s fine, I’ll come,” Hana relented, hating the confrontation. Embarrassment forced her to stuff her feet into her trainers by the door and go with him. She looked back at Mark with an appeal for something in her eyes and he didn’t understand. He watched her follow the teacher, stopping twice to fasten her laces. Mark quashed the feeling of unease, closing the front door as Phoenix dropped her spoon onto the floor with a clatter and peered over the side of her high chair at it. She beamed as he produced a blue one from the cutlery drawer and ran hot kettle water over it to make sure it was sterile. “Ever the doctor, my dear,” he said with a smile as she whined in expectation. Then he began pushing the bright red mushy crumble between eager lips as though feeding a baby bird.
Mark’s sense of disquiet remained though, especially when Hana hadn’t returned after an hour.