In the lounge, Tama fed Phoenix crusts of bread, banging her on the back as she coughed on rogue crumbs. Bodie looked uncomfortable and Hana sensed Tama had been asking him about the case. “Is the biology teacher still in custody?” she asked, reaching for a sandwich and sitting in the seat next to her daughter. Phoenix waved the crust and jabbered something unintelligible and Hana smiled and nodded, satisfying the tiny desire to be understood. The little girl did a huge nod and snapped the crust in two with her forehead, looking at the pieces with a mystified glare. Hana laughed and Phoenix giggled, squeezing up her grey eyes and producing a cheesy grin which showed little white teeth cutting through her gums. Hana stroked her hair and kissed her face, avoiding the mushed up cheese and crumbs around most of it.
Bodie finished his mouthful and sighed. “Yeah, he’s still in the cells. They applied for an extension but Petersen’s lawyer requested a medical assessment. He’s a complete lunatic; raving on and making no sense. The drugs were definitely his - the first enclosure and the one he took you to. He and Larry Collins were in it together but it all went wrong a few weeks ago. Collins was a prolific user which explains his attitude and paranoia. The post-mortem showed he was as high as a kite on the morning he died. He was hit in the face with the spade from the trench and it broke his nose and caused a massive haemorrhage in his brain. Unfortunately, the forensics guys found so many fingerprints on the handle it’s impossible to prove Peterson caused the fatal injury. I think you, Tama and Logan were the only people on site who didn’t touch the murder weapon. It lived next to the trench so everyone passing picked it up, put it down or had a dig with it. Even Angus touched it. He fell over it the day before the murder and stood it up again although thirty teenage witnesses saw that happen. Where Petersen’s concerned, we can prove motive and opportunity so hopefully the rest will fall into place.”
“What about the tennis guy?” Tama asked. “Is he involved?”
Hana felt her appetite leave and the sandwich in her mouth turn to brick dust as Bodie replied. “That’s the weird thing. Nobody else saw him on site, except Mum. Angus has no idea who he is and didn’t give anyone permission to use the courts.”
“Who told the biology teacher’s poor wife?” Hana asked sadly, trying to change the subject. Her memories flicked to two police officers a decade ago, walking sombrely up the steps of the Achilles Rise house to impart bad news to her. In the back of her mind lingered the disquieting thought she had imagined the tennis player all along. Hana began to doubt herself.
“I did,” Bodie spoke into the silence. “Poor bloody woman. She didn’t have a clue. She thought he was either working late or having an affair because he kept disappearing and not showing up at home. When she challenged him he denied it and said he was working to buy the house and found some shift work making deliveries. He seemed sincere and showed her the bank balance so she believed him. He started the marijuana plants off in a propagator on the laundry window sill. The wife assumed it was curriculum stuff and didn’t question it. She said their little girl knocked the tray off trying to open the window yesterday morning and he went absolutely mental. That was the last time they saw him. The wife put it all back together and stood the seedlings up. He told her they were maple saplings. She’s devastated.”
Hana covered her eyes with her hand, remembering the happy woman who bounced up two flights of stairs to the family room a year ago, heavily pregnant and begging Hana to let them rent the house.
“Mum?” Bodie was still speaking and Hana struggled to tune in. “Are you selling Achilles Rise?”
She sighed and nodded. “It’s listed with the agent who rents it out for me. I just haven’t managed to sign the paperwork yet.”
Hana smiled at her husband as he entered the room and vacated the chair for him, grabbing a plate of sandwiches she’d rescued from the younger men’s hungry hands. He thanked her and sat, not really hungry.
“I wondered if you’d let me buy it.” Bodie bit his lip.
“No.” Hana’s answer came swiftly and the men stared at her. She flicked her hair behind her shoulder in defiance and Bodie looked disappointed. “This family should let that house go. We all need to stop hankering after the past. But I do have another proposition if you’re interested. I’ve arranged to have Culver’s Cottage valued so I can sell the land at the back to Maihi and Hemi. It will make the house less expensive and I’m willing to sell you that, if you want it.”
Logan’s mouth hung open, his sandwich suspended in mid-air. He shook his head in disbelief. Hana reached for his hand. “I love the house Logan’s building and I want to put everything into it,” she said. “I’m spread too thinly at the moment and need to cut down my responsibilities.” She got eye contact with Bodie. “Talk to Amy and get back to me. Three agents can value it and Logan and I will take an average, but it’s not a gift, Bodie. I’ll be looking for a fair price. I’ll give you first option but if we can’t agree, it goes on the open market.”
Bodie’s face lit up. “It would be perfect; Jas and Amy love Culver’s Cottage. Get the agents in and then we’ll talk. That’s awesome news.”
“I’m not arguing with my children about money though,” Hana reiterated. “Nothing’s worth that and I will sell it if we can’t agree.”
“Ok.” Bodie attacked another sandwich with gusto, a lightness in his heart not previously there.
Logan kept quiet, pleasure and hurt rivalling in his brain. Hana offered him security but hadn’t discussed it with him and Logan wasn’t used to being outmaneuvered. He narrowed his eyes at his daughter and pulled a face as she snatched a sandwich off his plate, dropping grated cheese onto the tray in front of her high chair and then flicking it around. She slapped her hands on it without coordination, flattening it into a yellow mess before rubbing her eyes and spreading it over her face. Hana dived in and pulled her arms up with one hand, deftly wiping the tiny face with a cloth in the other. “Mucky pup,” she crooned, undoing Phoenix’s straps and lifting her from the chair.
Hana sat on the sofa and got ready to feed the tired baby. Phoenix lay across her mother’s thighs and kicked her legs with impatience. “I’m visiting Da this afternoon,” Hana said conversationally, hoping Logan would offer to come.
“I’m on duty soon,” he reminded her and Hana nodded and kept her eye roll to herself.
“A friend wants to see me.” Tama looked sideways at Bodie and deliberately didn’t name his colleague.
“And I’ve got work,” Bodie said, looking at his watch. “Thanks for the shower and lunch.” He smiled, a refreshing expression after the weeks of darkness. “I’ll talk to Amy and let you know.”
Everyone filtered away, but Logan drifted around the unit aimlessly while Hana got ready and put the baby in her car seat. “Are you cross I didn’t discuss my plans with you?” she asked her husband but he shook his head. “So what’s the matter?” she asked and Logan shrugged.
“Nothing, I’m fine.” Agitation crept into his voice and Hana sighed. Admitting defeat she kissed him goodbye and headed out in the Honda.
Robert and Elaine’s new motel was more upmarket after their long journey back from Wellington. When Hana knocked on their door with the car seat over her arm, she found them looking happy and rested. “Ah hen, how lovely to see ma wee girlie,” Robert whispered, wrapping Hana in a firm hug.
“I’ll make tea,” Elaine offered, gripping the tiny kettle from the night stand.
“Don’t worry, Lainey,” Robert said. “Mark’s meeting us at that little cafe we like, so why don’t we head off there now and have a nice coffee altogether?”
They both looked at Hana for her approval and she gave it with good grace, hope nipping at her soul at the thought of being a family unit again, even a dysfunctional one. Hana fished the pram from the car and transferred her sleeping baby into it and the little group wandered along Victoria Street until they arrived at a cafe half way down. It wasn’t too busy and they ordered, waiting in a booth for Mark and the drinks to arrive. “I ordered muffins and scones,” Robert said, treating Hana like a child and waggling his bushy eyebrows. She laughed, a sharp pain in her chest at the memory of being a carefree little girl still in his eyes.
The sight of a slim, blonde woman waiting for a take-away coffee near the counter caught her eye and Hana took a slow intake of breath. The woman faced the shop window concentrating on the view of Victoria Street, her hair cut shorter than the last time Hana saw her. Excusing herself for a moment and clambering over her pram into the aisle, Hana tapped her on the arm, readying her smile.
“I saw you.” Anka’s smile seemed wistful as she turned. “I assumed you wouldn’t want to talk.”
“Sorry.” Hana withdrew her hand. “Would you rather I didn’t?”
Anka’s emotions were confusing and impossible to read, but she shook her head. “No, please, I’m glad you did, I’m just surprised. I’ve done so much to hurt you; having sex with Tama in your lounge and...” Anka swallowed. “Ivan took great delight telling me about your conversation. He’s such a bastard.” Anka shook her head and examined the toes of her shiny red shoes.
Hana watched for deceit as she asked her question. “Did you know about Vik’s affair before he died?” she asked bluntly.
Anka pulled a face and widened her eyes in horror. “No! Damn that man! Ivan did, he knew but didn’t tell me until a few years ago when you started dating that relief teacher. He made a comment that maybe this one would be faithful and I made him tell me. I knew he’d told you the other day out of spite, but didn’t realise he’d falsely implicated me.” Anka shook her head, her customary composure gone.
“It’s ok,” Hana said. “It devastated me at the time because it made a mockery of friendships I relied on, but it doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve got Logan and Phoenix and it’s ancient history. Besides which, I knew and didn’t tell.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Anka asked, looking hurt. Her lips turned down and she stared at her shoes again.
“Shame, I guess. Embarrassment. I wanted to preserve Vik’s memory for his children, which turned out to be absolutely pointless. Bodie always knew and so did Marcus. Only Izzie is blissfully ignorant.”
“What a mess,” Anka sighed, shaking her head slowly. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for any part I played in it.” She touched Hana on the arm. “I’m also sorry for everything I’ve inflicted on you this last year. I’ve messed everything up.”
Hana looked at her old friend, realising how much she’d missed her. Anka seemed more like her old self, thinner and less confident but certainly happier. “Anka,” she said quietly, “I’ve missed you. We’ve both made mistakes but I forgive you everything.”
There were tears in the other woman’s eyes, desperate to take the proffered olive branch but knowing she didn’t deserve it. Anka nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered.
“Why don’t you come and sit with us?” Hana invited, indicating the booth as her father and stepmother sipped their newly arrived coffee.
“Meet Robert, my da and Elaine, my stepmother.” Hana fixed a wooden smile on her lips as she acknowledged Elaine, seeing her aunt’s relief.
Anka shot her a look of mystification and cocked her head. Hana was thankful for her tact in not asking how Robert McIntyre had risen from the grave. “Nice to meet you,” Anka said instead, nodding to the elderly couple. Robert dabbed his mouth with a handkerchief and rose to shake hands, overwriting the angry vision in Hana’s head and replacing it with the gentleman she remembered.
Hana sat next to her friend and when nobody was looking, took her hand under the table and squeezed it, reminded of the words Pastor Allen spoke once. ‘Unforgiveness is the cup of poison you pour for someone else and then drink yourself.’ Anka gulped and squeezed back, tears pricking the backs of her eyes. She started when a dark, handsome man approached the table and stood smiling at them with benevolence. “It became a party without me,” Mark said, feigning disappointment. Robert laughed and shook his head.
“I should probably go,” Anka said, rising.
“No, don’t.” Hana kept her hand over Anka’s, forcing her to stay seated. “This is my brother, Mark,” she said, shuffling into the corner so he could sit. He sat on her hand and Hana squeaked. “And he has a bony bottom!”
Mark leaned around Hana and gallantly shook hands with the pretty woman, a new spark of interest in his green eyes. Too late Hana realised her error and let out a slow exhale.
Phoenix whimpered in her pram and Hana shoved Mark out of the booth so she could go to her. He slotted himself back in, bailing Anka up in the corner and turning on his full charm for her benefit. An in-depth conversation ensued on health care, as Hana extracted her baby from the pram and removed her little jacket. Robert looked at Hana and smirked, nodding his head towards her brother and friend. Hana acknowledged a tiny sense of misgiving in her heart and the smile she returned was less than genuine. He winked as though he understood although he couldn’t have guessed. Hana chided herself. She’d either forgiven, or she hadn’t but to prove it, she’d have to let Anka’s sins go.
Phoenix wasn’t hungry but buoyant and happy once she properly woke. Hana asked the waitress for a soy fluffy; frothy milk in a tiny cup. When it came, she fed it to her daughter from a plastic spoon. In between each mouthful, Phoenix beamed at everyone around the table. “Big girl,” Hana whispered in her ear and she smiled up at her mother and kicked her legs.
“How old is she now?” Anka asked, leaning forward so that she could see around Mark.
“Almost seven months,” Hana said wistfully, thinking how quickly life disappeared.
“She’s gorgeous,” her friend complimented. “She’s forward for her age isn’t she?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t see other mothers and babies at the moment and it’s such a long time since Bo and Izzie, I can’t remember what they were doing at this age,” Hana admitted. “Logan and I spend a lot of time with her because she’s the only one, so she might learn things early.”
Phoenix chose that exact moment to beam up at her mother, her grey eyes round and knowing. She looked so much like Logan it made Hana smile. The group of accompanying adults let out a combined sigh to acknowledge her cuteness and Phoenix ruffled like a queen.
Anka stayed until her take away-cup was empty. She refused Mark’s offer of a refill and excused herself. Hana handed Phoenix to her brother, standing up to let her friend out and walking onto the street with her. “Where are you living?” she asked.
“I’ve got an apartment over a restaurant close by. It’s cool,” she said. “I rent a parking space out back and they aren’t noisy. It’s nice sometimes to hear other people moving around and living their lives, less isolating. I’m working at the osteopath’s offices again. They heard I was back and asked if I wanted my old job, so it worked out fine.”
“Do you have a new cell phone number?” Hana asked. Her friend nodded and reaching in her bag, pulled her phone out.
“Remind me of yours, and I’ll text so you can save it.”
Hana read the number out and watched Anka’s long, manicured fingers punch it deftly into her phone, frightened the other woman just took it out of politeness. Anka looked up and read the anxiety in Hana’s face, pulling her into a warm hug. “Silly girl,” she whispered, “I’ll text you now. Then you can message me back and suggest another time to meet.”
Hana nodded and saw Anka send a message to her new contact. She sighed with relief at the promise of a relationship restored, still terrified the tennis player was a lonely figment of her imagination. Hana felt lighter of spirit as she headed back inside the cafe to find her daughter singing a loud and interesting song for her captive audience.
“Anka seems lovely,” Mark said, the twinkle in his green eyes giving him away. “What?” he laughed as Hana rolled her eyes at her father.
Elaine shook her head knowingly. “I’m sure I heard her tell you she was happy being single. Perhaps it was a hint she wished to stay that way?”
Mark shrugged nonchalantly and winked at his mother. “You always to assume the worst of me, mother dear. I’m fifty-six years old and very much past the ‘love ‘em and leave ‘em’ stage. I thought she might be nice company for my upcoming works dinner, not a night of rampant debauchery in a hotel!”
Elaine looked suitably shocked, but Hana and Robert giggled, more at the elderly woman’s discomfort than the thought of Anka and Mark. Hana resisted the urge to warn her brother to steer clear of Anka as she worked hard to put her life back together, deciding for once to keep her big mouth closed and let nature take its course.
“You seem uncomfortable,” Mark whispered and Hana swallowed and shrugged.
“I’m fine,” she lied, searching for the sense of unconditional forgiveness which evaded her.
Back at the unit, Tama and Lucy lounged together on the sofa behind the breakfast bar. Lucy looked different out of uniform, her blonde hair hanging long over her shoulders and makeup accentuating her beauty. Hana took it as a good sign that neither jumped as she blundered through the front door with a car seat and change bag. They talked in low voices, so Hana made a cup of tea one-handed and carried her still singing child to the bedroom for a feed. Phoenix wasn’t interested, filled up by the soy milk fluffy and laid on the bed trying to eat her own toes. Hana played with her until she noticed the child was dozing off. “It’s a lonely feeling, being ditched by your only companion,” she breathed, ruffling Phoenix’s soft curls and seeing her reach for her thumb. Hana changed her nappy without waking the infant and slipped her into the cot, feeling trapped with nowhere to go. She rattled around her bedroom until it was tidy but still boring.
In the hallway, Hana pulled long black boots over stockinged feet and marched into the lounge. Tama and Lucy had progressed beyond talking and sprang apart guiltily. Hana gave Tama a narrowed look. “Would you mind listening out for Phoe for a little while? You won’t forget about her, will you?” Her face told him in an unspoken language what she expected.
Tama ran his hand through his hair and shook his head, non-verbally promising he’d behave “I won’t forget her, Ma,” he said.
Hana raised an eyebrow, reminding him of his eager tryst with Anka while Phoenix slept down the hall and Tama blanched. “I won’t,” he assured her.
“Thanks.” Hana grabbed her phone from the baby change bag. She held it up in front of her face. “I’ve got this if you need me.”
Hana walked across to St Bart’s, nodding to Pete on reception as she passed. Dodging two rubber balls and the Year 9 body which followed them, Hana climbed the stairs to the top floor, finding the staff restroom and knocking on the middle of the bedroom doors.
“Hey, gorgeous. This is a nice surprise.” Logan’s sleeping bag lay on the single bed in a roll and Hana knew it wouldn’t stay there. As soon as everyone else cleared out, he’d move into the rest room and keep vigil, detesting the confinement of the well-used room. A radiator blasted out heat, making the room stuffy and tropical and marking and work books littered the desk. Logan’s tie dangled around his open shirt because even on Saturday Logan Du Rose dressed for work, donning a crisp, expensively tailored white shirt and bum-hugging black trousers. His wash bag sat on the shelf by the sink and the smell of his deodorant pervaded the air.
Hana shut the door behind her, keeping eye contact with her husband and slipping off her boots. He looked at her curiously as she climbed onto the bed and stood, pulling him towards her so she could kiss him at level height. Hana sought his eyes, unreadable pools of swirling greys turning blacker by the second.
“I’ve got dinner duty,” Logan breathed, his lips twitching at the corners.
Hana shrugged. “Then you’ll be late.” She undid his shirt buttons one at a time, nipping at his bottom lip at the feel of each satisfying pop. Logan tried to put his arms around her but found his hands batted away as Hana teased and undressed him. Logan loved her so much it was like a physical pain in his ribs, made worse by his growing dependence on her. His heart stopped every time she walked into the same room still – after a year of marriage. It terrified the independent once lonely man that he might one day be forced to return to his former life without her. It left him emotionally stripped and vulnerable; to be so unutterably linked with another human being.
Hana enjoyed driving her husband mad. She touched her lips lightly to his muscular chest and shoulders, sensing she possessed him fully but knowing he’d only take so much teasing. It was fun while it lasted. She kissed, nibbled and breathed on his flesh until the gentle resistance of his wrists in her hands became like a tsunami and she couldn’t stop his strong arms wrapping around her and pulling her down onto the bed. “I love you, Hana Du Rose,” he whispered, slipping her dress over her head. His fingers shook as they brushed the red coils from her neck, letting them slither across her shoulders. “Don’t leave me,” he begged, his grey eyes flashing like a stormy sea.
“I won’t,” Hana promised, sighing as her breasts tumbled from her bra and Logan’s lips covered hers.
Logan’s temporary abode looked like a jumble sale with clothing mixed up on the floor and Hana’s knickers hanging from the notice board. She snuggled into Logan’s warm armpit and squinted, reading the words ‘Fire Drill’ which were partially obscured by her underwear. Hana covered one eye, so it read ‘Fire’ and then red lace, smirking to herself.
“Nice knickers,” Logan sighed, smiling with his eyes closed. “Very irresistible.”
“Mmnn,” Hana sighed. “I noticed.” She listened to her husband breathe in and out, glad she’d put more effort into the state of her underwear of late. A pair of elasticated, grey-washed-granny-knickers with holes in the sides wouldn’t look so good, caught on a rogue drawing pin. “I might leave them there as a reminder,” she threatened.
Logan turned on his side and wrapped his arms around her, muscles bulging under soft skin. “And leave me with the thought of you walking home across the paddock with no knickers on? You wouldn’t.”
Hana giggled and Logan kissed her, shrouding them in a haze of musky aftershave. She sighed. “Now I know what utter contentment feels like. I don’t want to move ever again.”
“Is Tama looking after Phoe?” Logan asked and Hana nodded into his chest.
“Yeah, I guess I should go back.” Reality visited with its snake-like fingers of monotony, making food, tidying houses and going through the motions of life with its boring, necessary reminders. Hana sat up and pulled a face. The slippery sleeping bag shivered down her body revealing a breast and a delicious slice of porcelain stomach.
“Not yet.” Logan kissed her again and shifted so he could pull her on top of him and Hana knew she’d be longer than promised. Logan moved so Hana straddled him, running his fingers down the soft skin of her back, his eyes roving over her body. “Tama can cope.” His words brushed against Hana’s hair and it shuddered in response, falling onto his chest and stroking the bulging pectorals. Logan bit his lip and reeled Hana in, smiling at her feigned resistance as she sank into his embrace. They pushed the mundanity of life aside for a few more minutes, looking for highs to sustain them in a temporary ecstasy.
“I feel like a naughty schoolgirl!” Hana exclaimed later in hushed tones as she sneaked out of Logan’s room and into the restroom.
“Don’t say that!” he chided, enfolding her from behind and kissing the back of her neck through her hair. “I’ll take you back into my room.”
Hana laughed and wriggled free. “Make me a cup of tea to take your mind off it.”
Logan narrowed his eyes and slapped Hana’s bottom but obeyed, his cowboy boots clicking on the lino floor. She contemplated asking him what was wrong earlier but guessed he wouldn’t tell her. Hana wandered around the tired restroom and sank into a worn armchair, staring at a stain on the carpet by the collapsed sofa. “Is that your blood?” she asked, pulling a face and Logan nodded.
“Yeah. I think I need it back.” He smirked, referring to his haemophilia in joking terms.
Hana shivered, remembering the incident and pushed the memory away in a rush. She grasped at the question which snaked its way into her mind, remembered from the previous day but not asked. “Where was James?” she said and a strange, unfathomable look crossed her husband’s face.
“When?” Logan asked and looked away, alerting Hana’s suspicious mind.
“When the biology teacher took me into the gully to see him. Where was he really?”
“Oh then,” Logan answered, running his hand through his hair. “In his assessment, where I told you he’d be. So how’s it going with Tama and his new squeeze? Do you trust them on their own?” Logan strived to change the subject far too eagerly, making Hana not want to at all.
“They’re fine; he promised he’d behave. What other time did you think I was asking about James?” Hana asked, seeing guilt work its way across Logan’s face. “Has he been somewhere?”
Logan shook his head and his eyes told her not to push but it turned her into a dog gnawing a bone; the opposite of his intention. Hana shifted onto the couch next to him. “I’ll tickle it out of you then,” she threatened, slipping her fingers between his knees and squeezing at the sensitive tendons. When Logan made a grab for her hands, Hana jabbed him in the ribs and made him squirm.
“Hana, don’t!” Logan warned. There was something serious in the way he took her hands in his and stared into her eyes. “Don’t.”
“But you’re ticklish,” she said, her eyes heralding mischief.
His irises shone gritty and sparkled as though shot through with diamonds, emphasising his authority. “Hana, please leave this. For now. Please?” It was said as a question but implied instruction. Hana’s enthusiastic lover took a backseat beneath the man of authority and Hana felt it like a violent slap to the face.
She snatched her hands away, knitting her brow and grinding her jaw. “More secrets!” she spat. “So much for agreements.” She hated being told what to do, feeling a rebellious spirit force its way to the top. Sixteen years of marriage to a competent decision-maker who ran his relationship like a project, built up a core of resistance which threatened to explode. “Are you asking me, or telling me?” she demanded, voice low and green eyes flashing with defiance.
Logan ran his hand across his jaw and then through his hair, betraying his distress and Hana felt a flash of dread as he replied, “Hana, I’m begging you.”