“Don’t stand like that,” Liza said curtly to him. “You look gay.”
To Hana’s surprise, Logan put his hands down by his sides before remembering he was still angry with his commanding sister. “You’d know!” he replied spitefully and Hana realised there was still more in play than she realised. She sighed heavily and Logan looked down at her from his great height. “Have you been overdoing it?” he asked patronisingly and Hana gritted her teeth and didn’t reply.
Phoenix finished grinding her new teeth on the side of the biscuit and decided she actually wasn’t impressed with it, squeezing the crumbly mess between the palms of her hands and making whispered noises. Hana wiped her face and hands quickly before she could object, swiping the biscuit away with it. Phoenix patted her palms on her splayed knees and Hana hauled herself up to her feet, openly rejecting Logan’s offered hand and dumping the dirty wipes and biscuit into the bin. She snatched her daughter up and pushed her feet into a pair of slippers without bending down, leaving the room wordlessly.
Outside she spoke to Phoenix, who started to whimper, “Let’s go and get some peace in the family room and Mummy can give you a little breast feed.”
They took the spiral staircase at the end of their floor and Hana settled herself in the bright little private room at the back of the house near the stables. The sitting room was one of the few which hadn’t been decorated for years, left alone in its rustic comfort. The red leather sofas were squashy and safe and the ancient television gave a poor reception. “When your Grandmother Miriam was alive, she and Poppa Alfred spent their evenings in this room,” Hana told her daughter. She remembered how the fire roared savagely within the confines of its grate and Alfred wound balls of knitting wool for his wife. Only latterly Hana could see it for what it was - a picture of fake, domestic bliss, carved out to fool the world.
Miriam had been the lynch-pin for the family, the cornerstone holding them all together. In her absence, they were in-fighting and drifting on a rising tide of disaster. It was ironic how Logan’s brother and sister returned home within weeks of each other, seeking something they both knew they wouldn’t find. With their mother gone as housekeeper and Alfred disconnected from everything, there was nothing here for them. It was Logan’s business and nothing more. Hana’s brow creased as she thought of Alfred. She hadn’t seen him for days and he no longer bothered to come and see the baby, hiding out in Jack’s bunkhouse like a hermit.
It was irritating the way Logan’s siblings turned up, expecting to be waited on hand and foot, but Hana saw the craving in their eyes. She knew Logan hadn’t come to terms with his mother’s suicide, but wondered if any of them were coping. Hana sighed and spoke to her daughter. “I don’t have the energy to get involved,” she said.
Logan repeated to Liza almost word for word, what he threw at Michael a few weeks before. ‘You weren’t interested!’ Hana always assumed he bought the failing farm section by section, paying off the suffocating debts from the other side of the world. She hadn’t known he asked his siblings for help. There were lots of reasons why they might have turned him down but Logan drew his own conclusions in the light of the revelation that Reuben and not Alfred was his father. She realised with amazing clarity that part of her husband’s recent angst was fear that Michael and Liza rejected his business rescue plan because they weren’t full siblings. In which case they rejected him, not his proposal. It made perfect sense.
The old Hana would have rushed upstairs, spewed out her conclusions and demanded they all have a group hug. The new Hana knew better. Constant clashes with Logan over ‘family issues’ about which he claimed, she knew nothing, had long since dented her confidence in any counselling skills she may have possessed. “No baby,” she whispered to her suckling daughter, “Mummy’s learning to play the long game.”
Phoenix stopped feeding and beamed at her mother, reaching out with her hand for Hana to kiss it. Then she babbled something helpful along with a deep sigh and buried her face back into Hana’s breast. Hana lay her head back against the old sofa and closed her eyes, enjoying the peace of the room and the rhythm of her baby’s feeding. It was soporific and Hana felt herself drifting off to sleep and finding resistance futile.
She jumped as someone came into the room and she heard the chink of crockery. “Sorry, love,” Leslie said gently as she sat on the sofa next to her. “I went upstairs looking for you. I wanted to know if I could have your little girl this afternoon for a few hours, but your husband’s up there with her ladyship. You could cut the atmosphere with a knife, so I figured youse might be hiding down here.”
Hana laughed but it was a sad sound. “Am I that predictable?”
“Only to us that know and love you,” Leslie answered and put her arm around the younger woman. Hana leaned in and kissed Leslie’s brown cheek and thanked her. Then she sat the dozing baby up on her knee and patted her back.
“You’ve not long woken up, missy. How can you just nod right back off like that?”
Phoenix yawned and rubbed her eyes, letting out a wet burp and grinning at Leslie.
“Maybe she’s like her daddy,” Leslie said, chucking the baby under the chin with her finger.
Phoenix giggled, but Hana shook her head. “No, Logan sleeps terribly at the moment. He’s often up in the night wandering around. Especially here.”
Leslie tried to lighten the mood but realised her mistake too late. “Not like Alfred then. He lays on his back and snores like a piggy!”
Hana’s eyes twinkled as Leslie covered her hand with her mouth in embarrassment. “Naughty Aunty Leslie,” Hana said to the baby. “Doing rudies with Grandpa Alfie; who’d have thought it?” Leslie looked mortified, her body tense as she observed the empty fireplace with unusual intensity. “Actually where is Alfred?” Hana asked. “I know he’s staying away from Logan, but he’s been reasonably attentive to Phoe since I got home from the hospital. I haven’t seen him for a few days.”
Leslie stood up and walked over to the French doors, peering outside at the drizzling rain and grey muted landscape. She didn’t answer immediately and Hana felt besieged by everyone else’s problems. She sensed Leslie was about to confide in her and tried not to visibly wince. Settling her baby onto the other breast, she reached for the mug of tea on the tray and waited. When it came, Hana was relieved to find there was little in it she didn’t already know, apart from maybe the finer details.
“I knew about Miriam and Reuben; I’ve always known. I passed messages for years and watched Logan grow up. When Miriam was depressed and beating herself up, I took news of the boy to his father; silly little things to make him smile. I always liked Reuben as a friend. He was only ever interested in Miriam. Everyone thought they would marry and then they fell out and not a soul knew why. Reuben left for a while and when he came back, he was wed; to Miriam’s sister. The old lady was mad as hell with him but she took it out on Alfred more. Rumour was he’d shown too much of an interest in Miriam and as the older brother, Reuben would have to step aside. Sure enough, Miriam took up with Alfred and nobody will ever know the truth but them. They all lived together here and the babies were born in this whare, Kane and then Liza, Nev and Barry. Life settled and it was fine for a while. Reuben’s wife loved kids. She was always picking up strays from around the wider whānau and the house was full of little ones running around, making a noise.”
Leslie sighed and ran her hand over her face. Hana was struck by how her seventy-odd years pressed her down in that moment. “Something happened – and Reuben’s wife went away for a while. Everything was ok when she came back and we were told she went to care for a sick relative. She was gone for the best part of a year. Then one day that blondie turned up, Caroline Marsh. Nobody was sure where she came from. She was a delicate little tot but a cuckoo if ever there was one; real hard to manage. She was a few years younger than Liza but those two were trouble together, like sisters. Reuben’s wife died the year Michael was born and Reuben got real sad. He and Miriam struck out again together not long after that. I don’t think they meant to; it was just one of those things.
“I came to work one morning in the cowshed and the word was that Alfred had gone; took off in the night. He went up north to work with an uncle who ran a beef farm and didn’t come back for months. The old lady followed him up there and tried to talk to him. She never said why he went and Miriam was dead quiet about it, but I guessed about her and Reuben and figured Alfred did too. By the time he came back, Miriam must have already been pregnant with Logan. Ain’t no way that child was born two months early, not the long legs on him. Besides, you only had to look at him to see that he was pure Reuben Du Rose.
“It blew up bad one day. Alfred came in to find Reuben holding Logan and lost it. He took a swing at his brother even though he was cuddling the piripoho and Reuben laid him out flat. But the old lady wouldn’t tolerate it no more. She sent Reuben and his lot packing. She divided the land and fenced them out. She gave her son the money to build that house and then washed her hands of him. They lived in tents while it was built and him with all those small kiddies across the winter. She was a hard woman and punished them all for Reuben’s wrong. That was her utu and those tamariki never forgave her. It was wicked but she wouldn’t let nobody from this side help him out. It broke his heart being banished from his own son and he never got over it.” Leslie’s voice ceased and Hana let the word utu roll around her mouth without speaking it out loud. It was a form of plundering aimed at righting a wrong after battle, but what Phoenix Du Rose took was more than just possessions.
Leslie sighed. “It wouldn’t have worked, not Reuben and Alfred under the same roof trying to raise the boy. The older boys knew about Logan and word always gets out with kids. They hated that poor tamaiti and he had no idea why.”
Leslie pressed her forehead against the cool glass and let out a long breath. “I should never have taken up with Alfred when I moved upstairs. It was an accident, two lonely old people finding a bit of happiness. I know the other staff hated it and I forgot my place, especially with you and Mr Logan. I dealt with things all wrong. I felt such guilt over all the times I covered for Miriam while she met with her lover and I saw what it did to Alfred, how he used to watch her with his heart all cut up inside. He didn’t deserve it and I shouldn’t have helped them. When I realised Logan knew, I thought he would tell Alfred. I’m too old for all the drama so I decided to do the right thing. I went to see him at the bunkhouse and told him myself. He was devastated.”
Hana lay a towel across her shoulder and put the baby over it. She was almost long enough to balance her toes on Hana’s thigh and felt heavy. She put both of her little arms around her mother’s neck and snuggled in. Hana kissed the side of her face and pulled her in closer. Leslie was silent and Hana watched her. “What do you want?” she asked eventually.
The old woman looked at her strangely, as though not understanding the question. “I don’t know. Why does it matter what I want?”
“It always matters,” Hana replied. “Because if you don’t know, how can you expect other people to?”
Leslie looked stunned and Hana felt sad for her, remembering tales of the abusive gambling husband who robbed her blind their whole married life and then dropped dead, leaving her to pay off his loan sharks. If Logan hadn’t intervened, Leslie would still be in that derelict house without any furniture, watching them take her wages week after week for the rest of her life. “Do you want to be with Alfred?” Hana asked and Leslie blanched before nodding, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Then tell him,” Hana said. “See if he can forgive you and then carry on enjoying each other’s company.”
Leslie’s eyes almost popped out of her face with shock and she gaped like a fish. “That’s the thing,” she stammered. “He asked me to marry him and I knew I had to tell the truth. But part of me knew there’d be a big scandal. He’s meant to wait a year, until after the unveiling otherwise the whānau will believe he never loved her.”
Hana shrugged, regretting getting involved. “It’s your life, Leslie, not theirs. You need to talk to Alfred, but you won’t know anything until you try. I’ve spent far too much of my life avoiding stuff and running away from issues which blow up out of nowhere. What I’m learning with the Du Roses, is to either put up or shut up. I’m sitting in here now because I’ve come across something to ‘shut up’ about, but I’m picking my battles. There’s a ‘put up’ coming, believe me.”
Hana thanked Leslie for the tea, standing up with Phoenix still draped over her shoulder. Giving a little sigh, Phoenix stuffed her hands between her body and Hana’s and turned her face to the other side, closing her eyes and dozing. Hana decided the little girl was auditioning for family sloth. “Good luck,” she said kindly and left the room, hoping she hadn’t set the older woman up for one heck of a fall. “I think I’ve given enough advice today,” Hana whispered to her daughter. “It’s wearing me out!”
The Du Roses didn’t do ‘talking’ or ‘feelings.’ Hana discovered that major problem soon in her marriage, although Logan had softened since the baby. He had become far more adept at explaining the things that bothered him, yielding significantly less run-ins and misunderstandings. He was also better at listening, but it had taken a number of brave moments while Hana blocked his escape route and forced him to explain himself, in order to get this far. Standing in front of an angry, frustrated Logan Du Rose who had all the signs of detonation in his eyes, was no mean feat. What she said to Leslie was true, she was learning to pick her battles. This last generation grew up in a world of secrets and lies and there was no wonder they were scarred by it. Then again, Hana’s sedate upbringing hadn’t been as perfect as she believed. She shook her head and climbed the spiral staircase.
Liza was no longer in their room and Hana couldn’t see any blood on the floorboards. Logan lay on their bed re-reading ‘Lord of the Flies’, ready to teach it to the Year 11’s next term and the corner of the room was piled high with the boxes from next door. Hana eyed them with amusement. She resisted the urge to make any snide comments about the title of the book in Logan’s hand, in which the character names could easily be substituted for those of Du Rose family members. Logan closed the book as Hana turned the heat pump on again, memorising the page so that he didn’t have to splay its cover. “Sorry about before,” he said, holding out his arm towards her and shifting over. “I was being an arse. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”
“No, you shouldn’t!” she replied. Hana plonked herself down on the bed and hearing her father’s voice, Phoenix reached out with both arms towards him, almost tipping herself out of Hana’s grip. He took her and settled her on his chest. “Liza hung around for a bit. We thought you might come up for a group hug.” There was a smirk in his voice and Hana turned away to hide her smile. She looked back and wrinkled her nose and shrugged. Logan looked hard at her. “Don’t you care anymore?”
“It’s not that.” Her voice betrayed her tiredness. “I’ve got too many scorch marks on my backside already. And anyone who tries to get between you lot is always the one who ends up burned. I think you need to sort it all out yourselves. It’s probably the only way I’ll to survive being in this family.”
Logan lay back against the pillows, patting his daughter gently on the back. He looked as though his striking grey eyes were closed but Hana perceived the swish of his long black lashes as he observed her covertly from the side. “Well, you’re no fun anymore,” he said. “I enjoyed that smack in the face you gave Kane a while back. And I know Michael appreciated the matching pair of black eyes a couple of weeks ago. You’re getting a worse reputation than me.”
Hana sighed and put her head on his shoulder. “I didn’t think you saw me whack Michael with that plate. You had your face in the tea towel, bleeding. He actually took a swing at you, even though you couldn’t defend yourself. Violence isn’t the answer anyway. I thumped Kane and then look what happened to that naughty hand.”
Hana looked down at the angry scar on her wrist. Life was peculiar sometimes with its twists and turns. “Then I defended you against Michael and had a heart attack a matter of hours afterwards. Being in this family is lethal.”
Phoenix grinned at her mother from her prime spot on Logan’s chest and Hana smiled back. “Nope, I think God’s trying to tell me something.”
Logan laughed, “What like? Stop hitting whānau members, or stop defending your husband?”
“Both,” Hana replied. “He says you’re big enough and ugly enough to stand up for yourself.”
“Na,” Logan said with a low chuckle, “now I know you’re lying. Cause I’m not ugly.”
Hana drew in a loud breath and slapped him on the thigh, calling him vain and openly laughing at him. The rain hammering against the front of the hotel made her jump. “This weather is crazy!” she exclaimed. “I thought I’d go up to the memorial gardens and see how they’re coming along but the rain made it pointless. I don’t know how your stockmen cope with it.
“They’re all back,” Logan said with a yawn. “They’ll do inside jobs with tack or machinery or go back to the bunkhouse. But it works both ways because the jobs still need doing.”
“Do they have to catch up tomorrow?” Hana asked and Logan nodded.
“Yep, or the weekend. They don’t care. It’s just the way this industry is and they’re mostly glad of a well-paid job they love. If they didn’t like it, they’d move on, wouldn’t they?”
Hana nodded, figuring it helped that Logan spent many long hours fencing in the rain and wind and calving or foaling in the middle of the night with his men. His work ethic was faultless and it left no room for anyone not wanting to do the same.
Feeling chilled to the bone, Hana ran a mid-morning bath. Phoenix heard the water running onto the bubbles and began an entertaining striptease, pulling at her cardigan buttons and when that failed, pulling it over her head and getting stuck. Hana piled her hair onto her head in a scrunchy and sank into the deep bubbles. It felt like heaven; until Logan appeared in the doorway with a naked Phoenix and plonked her on Hana’s stomach. “Oh don’t, Loge!” Hana protested as Logan stripped off and climbed in as well, making the water slop over the edges. “What happened to my five minutes peace?” She laughed as he grimaced, trying to get comfortable at the plug end.
Phoenix came alive, shrieking, squealing and slapping the water in a frenzy of excitement. She was wriggly and slippery and hard to hold onto. Logan spent ages showing her how to make funnels from his mouth with the bathwater. She laughed like a drain, even when he got her in the face by accident. “I’d stop doing that soon, if I were you,” Hana suggested. “We should probably get her out before she pees.”
Logan pulled a face and wiped his wet hand across the back of his mouth, adding, “Or worse.”
Hana laughed but before she could speak, he held his hand up. “Please don’t remind me. It was horrible.”
Logan stepped out of the bath and reached for a towel, looking bashful as Hana ogled him without shame. “Not in front of the children!” he chastised.
Phoenix kicked up a fuss when he lifted her out and Hana heard him telling her they were going to get lunch in a minute, which seemed to stop her high pitched squeal. Hana used the soap and let out the cold water before running hot back in. “Aren’t you coming down?” Logan asked, appearing in the doorway with the baby, both of them dressed.
“I’m not hungry,” Hana admitted. “I feel so tired today. You go down and I’ll stay here for a bit.”
Logan looked unsure, not wanting to leave her alone in the bath. Hana rejected his offer of bringing something up from the kitchen, suddenly craving time alone with her thoughts. Reluctantly he left her there and went to feed his grumpy daughter.
He returned an hour later and he was alone. Hana lay on the bed in a towel, warming herself under the heat pump which was on sauna level. “Leslie asked for Phoe,” he said, climbing onto the bed and slipping his arm around his wife’s shoulders.
“I think she’s going to see Alfred,” Hana commented. “Did she drive or walk? It’s awful out there.”
“She drove. I gave her the Honda keys because it already had the car seat in it.” Hana nodded and sighed. “What’s the matter?” Logan asked and Hana shook her head.
“I honestly don’t know. Maybe I’m stir crazy with the weather and being so tired all the time. I seem to have a lot of worries going round and round my brain and don’t know how to sort them out. Sorry. I’m not good company am I?”
Logan smiled and pulled the scrunchy out of her hair, feeling it drop easily from the silky red tresses. He kissed her neck and Hana squirmed and giggled. “I’ve got very definite ideas about how a rainy, childless afternoon should be spent,” he breathed, running his hand along her thigh and as he tugged Hana’s towel loose, began to show her.
Hana’s fingers trailed down his strong chest, feeling the defined muscle through his skin. She pushed him onto his back and smoothed her palm along the scar tissue on his torso, seeking the mess of ridged flesh down his side. Hana kissed Logan’s pectorals in turn and let her lips slide over his nipple, hearing him inhale. “I love your body,” she whispered, her breath snuffing over his soft skin. “I never want to hear you say it’s mangled again. Do you understand?” She sank her teeth into the bud of his nipple and he let out a groan and flipped her on her back with force.
Hana squealed as her towel disappeared over the side of the bed and Logan’s lips pressed against hers, his tongue questing for entry. He paused, his eyes the colour of stone. “Tutakina ake,” he whispered and covered her mouth again with his.