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It was ten to midnight on that fateful day when the new Berg baby arrived in the world at Palmerston North Hospital and the exhausted mother smiled up at John, Doctor Simone Downie and a hospital gynaecologist.
"Though premature, your baby appears to be healthy, Mrs. Berg," the doctor said. "We've transferred her to a incubator and everything possible will be done for your little girl.”
"Will she survive, doctor?" the new mother gasped.
"She weighs two point one kilograms, a kilogram below a full term baby's average weight but we have saved many lighter than her."
"I want to see her," the new mother said with that now well known determined streak.
"I thought you might," said a nurse. "She's right beside you."
Kylena turned and felt John's hand clasp hers. Together they looked into the glass bubble of the incubator. Inside, almost immersed by a tube across its face was a tiny red skinned baby, hardly bigger than John's hand. The eyes were shut but tiny legs and arms kicked out. Fingernails the size of a pinhead could be seen.
"John." Kylena burst into sobbing tears. "She's perfect."
"She has every chance of surviving," Simone said. "Tell me, have you a name for her."
"Caroline," Kylena sobbed. "We haven't thought of a middle name yet."
"A lovely name, Kylena for a lovely baby. Now, just relax. Your job is done and Caroline is in safe hands."
"Thank you doctor," Kylena gasped. She squeezed John's hand and glanced up at the wall. A hospital clock had all its arms vertical. A new day was about to begin with a new beginning for them all.
*
Julie woke in her room and realized it was daylight and it had stopped raining. She glanced at her watch and leapt out of bed. Eight thirty. She had slept in. Memories of the day before flooded back like a terrible nightmare. Perhaps if she went to sleep and woke up again she would find it was a dream and everything would be normal. She swallowed. No, it had all happened.
Suddenly she heard a telephone ring and her grandmother's voice.
"Kylena," the girl screamed, flung the blankets aside and ran into the kitchen. Fiona glanced up and handed the receiver to her granddaughter.
"Hi, Sweetheart," Kylena 's voice sounded tired but happy. "You have a little sister. Caroline is perfect and weighs two point one kilograms. Tell Grandma that is four pounds one ounce"
Julie just stared at her grandmother with tears in her eyes." I will, Kylena," she sniffed "Where's Daddy?"
"I'm here, Sweetheart," John's voice came on the telephone. "Everyone is fine, here."
There was a thump and Helen appeared with a grin all over her face. "I want to talk to Mommy," she exclaimed
"Don't talk too long,' muttered Julie and turned back to her grandmother. 'Did you hear the news?'
"I did," Fiona replied.
"Can we go to see Kylena and my little sister, Grandma? " Helen still held the telephone in her hand,
"Yes, Harold is just backing the car out. We'll leave straight away".
*
Vicky Taylor's funeral was held in her hometown, Palmerston North, at Saint Peter's Anglican Church, one of the largest churches in the district. Just before the service began in the packed building, a large black Mercedes flying a New Zealand Ensign drew into the drive and the Minister of Education stepped out. He approached Vicky's grieving family before continuing on to meet Bishop Daniel Brunton, the officiating priest for the sad event.
After the hearse carried the body away for a private cremation and the usual condolences were extended to family and friends, the Minister of Education said a quick word to his aide and walked up to where Harold and the Berg family stood.
"I just want to shake your hand, Doctor Bentley," he said. "I believe if it wasn't for your valiant effort there may have been two dozen deaths at Long Valley School on that terrible day. One death is a tragedy but to have all the children saved through your efforts, helps to lighten the torment."
Harold nodded, mumbled something in return and shook the minister's hand. However, the man had not finished. He turned back to the family and spied to a tearful girl trying to look inconspicuous behind her father and stepmother. "I also wish to shake your hand, Julie," he said with a slight smile. "I heard you were also responsible in saving your classmates' lives. They must be proud of you."
His clasp was firm and Julie looked directly into his eyes. "I was the one there sir," she said in a modest voice.” It was Harold who really saved us."
"Possibly," the minister replied. "From what I was told, though, without your brave act many more lives would have been lost, including your own. As you are an American citizen, I shall personally be writing to your embassy in Wellington to inform them of your bravery."
Julie flushed. "Thank you," she replied and turned to find John and Kylena on each side of her. "My little sister was born on that day, Sir. Mom was only released from hospital to attend the service today."
"Yes, I heard one of our most promising principals had her own drama on that fateful day." the minister replied and his eyes turned to Kylena. "Congratulations Mrs. Berg. You must be proud of your new family."
"Oh I am sir," Kylena said and also took his hand. "All of them."
It was a sad occasion but there was a pride in the Berg extended family that day and even Harold had to swallow the lump in his throat when Fiona's hand slipped into his.
"Nice young chap," he muttered as he watched the ministerial car drive away.
*
The next week, Kylena was home but without Baby Caroline who remained in the hospital incubator until her weight increased. Long Valley Road School reopened in temporary accommodation at the district hall a kilometre up the valley from Top Oasis. The road was bulldozed across the avalanche face and official visitors from the Rangitikei District Council, Ministry of Education, Ministry of Conservation and others hung around like bees to honey, as Fiona put it.
Official letters also arrived but of most interest to Kylena was one about the fate of the school.
"I guess it had to come to this," she said a few days later when she read a letter to the Board of Trustees that both John and herself had received. "They're calling a district meeting to reconsider the consolidation of our school, Junction Road and Matakaka. It seems that, and she read from the letter in her hand ... "In light of the spare classroom space at the other two schools the estimated quarter of a million dollars cost to rebuild Long Valley Road School on a new site is not considered a practical use of taxpayer's money."
"I know but I can see sense in their proposal." John sighed and read the remaining part of the letter. "If they closed Matakaka and moved their building to Junction Road, there will be three classrooms for something like fifty children. The ministry's guarantee of three teachers for two years and bus services to our two districts as well as all that new equipment is quite enticing. "
"Bribes," retorted Kylena. "It's a repeat of their arguments before you arrived. The only difference is, now with no school here, what can we do except accept the package?"
*
And that was how it eventuated. After three meetings and only slight protests from the twelve-pupil Matakaka School Board of Trustees, it was agreed that the new Junction Road District School would open in the New Year. Meanwhile, all positions at the newly constituted school would be advertised and unsuccessful applicants from the three closed schools would be extended the usual redundancy packages.
More unexpected, though, was a phone call Kylena received the day after the final agreement was signed.
"Good evening, Mrs. Berg," a pleasant woman's voice said. "I am Marion Buxton. You may remember me at last night's meeting."
"I do," Kylena replied. Marion Buxton was the chairperson of the Junction Road School Board of Trustees and interim chairperson of the new district school.
"I know John is on the new interim board that met in committee just after we were formed so you may know why I am calling."
"I'm afraid I don't,' Kylena replied. "I guess John felt it was best not to discuss confidential items with me."
"I see," Mrs. Buxton replied. "I believe you had originally intended to return to your position in the New Year."
"I had," Kylena replied. "Now, of course, the tragedy has changed the circumstances. There is no school to return to."
"If you excuse me for encroaching on your private life but have you considered your options for next year?" the lady asked.
"I take redundancy and become a farmer."
"That's what John told us and is the reason for this call."
"Go on," Kylena frowned.
"The interim board invites you to apply for the position as principal in the new district school."
"What about your present principal and Diane Hampton from Matakaka."
"Oh, Bruce Cheever is applying and we believe Diane is only interested in one of the assistant's positions."
"Then why ask me?"
"We believe you should apply, Kylena," the woman replied but would not elaborate.
Kylena hung up and turned to John who had been pretending to read the paper, "You knew about this, didn't you?" she accused.
He glanced up with a slow grin. "About what, Kylena?"
"Devious, aren't you?" She glowered and walked out of the room.
Two weeks later, Kylena became incoming principal of Junction Road District School. Bruce Cheever's wife turned down the offer of keeping her position, Diane Hampton from Matakaka accepted one of the assistant's positions and, much to her own surprise and delight, Courtney O'Reilly was appointed the second assistant teacher.
*
Christmas in the middle of summer amused John and Fiona but the girls took it in their stride. There was still the massive decorated Christmas tree in the living room, a turkey dinner and oodles of gifts but the afternoon was spent relaxing outside. After the dinner dishes were put in the dishwasher and the wrapping paper gathered up, Kylena lay under a sun umbrella feeding Caroline. Adjacent, Harold and John sat at a log table playing yet another chess game. Julie, Helen and three school friends screamed in the Top Oasis swimming pool with water going everywhere while Sissy and Bella, ignoring the festive atmosphere, lay sound asleep beneath a shady tree.
Up in the attic, Fiona and Aggie, who was visiting for Christmas, sat amongst Harold's boxes of drawings and other documents John had persuaded him to store there.
"What are you looking for, Aggie?" Fiona asked as the younger woman opened another cardboard box of papers and lifted the top bundle out.
"I found out why Dad left the university so abruptly," she replied." There are a few missing pieces in the puzzle."
"Can you enlighten me?" Fiona asked.
The other woman sighed, sat back and pulled her knees up under her arms. "Twelve years ago, Dad was doing research on genetic engineering of plants, mainly crops and vegetables. He had an assistant, a Patricia Fenwick who was fifteen years younger than him." She stared at Fiona, "Are you sure you want to hear more?"
"Yes."
"They had an affair," Aggie continued, "At least that was Dad's view of it. This Patricia was a scheming little bitch who ripped Dad off and went on to become a professor at a top American university."
"I see," Fiona whispered. "But how?"
"I have a theory but that is all it is. What I need is something to use as evidence. When I was examining Dad's drawings on my last visit I noticed these boxes of papers but never thought they were of any value. Now, though, I believe they might be able to provide some clue to the reason why this woman is bathed in international glory and Dad dropped out of the system." She pursed her lips. "Both events happened about the same time."
Fifty minutes later, Aggie pulled a rubber band off another pile of musty documents and gave them a cursory glance through. She stopped, frowned, pulled a paper out from a third of the way through and began to read with intense interest.
"Yes!" she gasped and her eyes shone.
"What?"
"This could be it," the scientist reiterated. She read another page before looking up into her counterpart's curious eyes. "There's plenty to be done yet but will you promise me something, Fiona?"
"If it helps Harold, I'll promise anything."
"Don't tell Dad about what we did this afternoon. You know how obstinate he can be."
"Sure, but what is so important about that document in your hand?"
"Proof, Fiona," Aggie said. "At least, I believe it is."
*
Kylena officially took over as Principal of Matakaka Valley School, as the composite school was renamed, three weeks before the academic year commenced so it wasn't until that time that she could examine the records and files.
The old Matakaka School classroom was on site and architects had linked it with the original two-classroom block via a new half built library block. This had been delayed and was not due for completion until after Easter. She grinned at glass sliding door leading into the new administration block that had an office, staffroom and medical room built at the front of the original two-classroom block. These were almost finished with only painting and plumbing work to be done. Ironically, the upgrading cost more than if Long Valley Road had been rebuilt but she could see the sense in spending the money for fifty children rather than twenty.
The incoming principal used her keys to unlock the new door for the first time and stepped inside. That smell of newness was everywhere and a sense of pride and exhilaration filled her as she walked through to the new office and gazed out the bay windows across the playground where Fiona, the two girls and the baby were at the swimming pool. Her excitement, however, was interrupted by a voice behind her.
"So it didn't take you long for you to arrive and get your claws into my school, did it? ... One day."
Kylena turned to see a drunken Bruce Cheever leaning against the office door. Memories of another man who had suddenly confronted her sent a shudder through her but she pulled herself up. This was not her first husband in the middle of a lonely night, it was a hot summer's day and her family and other people were across the playground.
"You know I have every right to be here, Bruce," she replied and fought to keep the tremor out of her voice. These fears were stupid.
"Yeah, you came into the school when I was ill, change everything to suit your scatterbrained ways, told everyone what a shambles everything was then, behind my back, applied for the job here after making sure, of course, your old man was on the selection committee." The man stepped forward and glared at his replacement.
Kylena retreated a step so she was behind a desk. Somehow this gave her security. However, Bruce did not come any closer. Instead, he moved sideways, almost collapsed into a chair and bowed his head beneath his hands. At that moment, the young woman's emotions changed from fear and intimidation to compassion. She stared at him sitting there and remembered something else. John had found out Bruce didn't fall through a window that week she had taught at the school but was absent through stress related illness. The accident was a cover up that backfired on the family when rumours of the husband and wife having had a fight circulated the district.
Kylena wondered if it was worth talking to him in his present state but decided to try, anyway. "Listen Bruce," she said. "You have a few wrong facts here. One, our three schools were all disestablished and replaced by a new one that happens to be on this site, there were three principals of the same level who were without a position. I was fortunate enough to win but assure you I never discussed or criticized you to your parents or board. Two, John, is on the interim Board of Trustees but withdraw from the selection committee and three, there is no slur on you for having missed out. You are now entitled to assistance in finding a similar position and will receive full pay for two terms while you are searching."
"And what chances have I of getting one?" the man muttered. "Everyone knows a good looking woman like yourself only needs to wriggle her hips a little and she's half way there."
Kylena's emotions changed again, this time to anger. "That is not true," she retorted. "The truth in conservative rural areas like this is the complete opposite. I know, for example, that I only won the job at Long Valley Road because there were no male applicants and had to fight sexism most of my time there." Her face softened. "I personally, do not think the conditions for teachers are ideal but I do not make the rules."
" I guess," Bruce muttered and rose to his unsteady feet. "Anyway, I won't be around to annoy you. Enjoy your time here."
He gave a wave of his hand, focused on Kylena's face for a moment and left.
"Damn the man," Kylena muttered. She gazed around the empty room and decided she needed her family.
"Mommy," Helen's voice filled the playground when she walked across to the swimming pool. "Are you coming in for a swim? The water is really warm."
That one voice of a seven year old was enough to restore her faith in people.
She walked in the pool enclosure and smiled at Fiona who sat under a sun umbrella feeding Caroline a bottle. "Want me to take over?" she asked.
"No, Sweetheart," Fiona glanced up and smiled. "If I am going to be permanent baby sitter at the end of the month, I need the practice." She smiled down at Caroline, made soothing little noises, rubbed the baby's back until a burp came up and continued the feeding.
"Mommy," Helen yelled.” Are you coming in?"
"Come on, Kylena," persuaded Julie from the middle of the pool where she was surrounded by three youths vying for her attention.
"You know, I think I just might," the new principal smiled and walked into the girls' shed to get changed.
*
"Oh John, you should have seen it," Kylena said when he came in for an afternoon coffee break. "I went back after my swim and looked through the filing cabinet. You know, there was nothing there, no curriculum outlines, no long term plans, so school policies; nothing." She sipped her drink and stared at the door. "Those months of records and all my work is buried under several tons of clay from Kevin's hillside," she added bitterly. "I'm thrilled to get the new position, of course, but the idea of having to redo everything and start from scratch makes my time at Long Valley Road School seem one big waste of time."
"But wasn't that what you expected?" John replied.
"I knew Bruce was lackadaisical but I don't know how he got away with doing so little."
"And wouldn't you have changed most things, anyhow?"
"I know but if I had all my work it wouldn't be so hard to adapt it. The idea of starting from scratch." She grimaced and reached for a slice of chocolate cake Fiona had baked that morning.
John grinned, stood up and left the room only to return a moment later holding a box of computer disks. "A good computer worker always keeps a copy of programs in a secure place. I copied everything you did on the school computer on this disk and brought it home." He shrugged. "I also kept a copy of work on our home computer at school so that's gone. I'll need to recopy it, now."
"Everything?" Kylena broke into a smile.
"Yes, you were pretty conscientious and used the computer for most of your work. It is all here." He held the box up.
"My dear," she laughed. "You're marvellous and I love you. How can I repay you for your forethought."
"There is one way," John chuckled and reached out for her.
*
The lawyer walked into the interview room and waited for his client to be led in. He stood, shook hands with the sullen man and waited for the guard to leave.
"So what is it this time?" Mic Werner grunted as he slung a leg over the wooden chair and sat down.
"News,” said the lawyer. "Good and not so good."
"Give me the bad stuff first," Werner replied.
"Your trial has been put back at least three months and the police are seeking to incorporate the charge of stealing John Berg's cattle with the assault charge against your estranged wife. This could be bad for you as the Crown is going to try to prove the two alleged crimes are interconnected."
"So," Werner snapped. "What else is new?"
"Due to the trial being put back, I've managed to get bail for you." He gave a thin smile. "That's the good news."
Werner's eyes glanced up and the dark stare changed to a grin. “From when?"
"There are restrictions," the lawyer warned and extracted a document from his satchel. "You are to surrender your passport and must report to the police station once a week."
Mic Werner shrugged.
"Also you are restricted from travelling within twenty kilometres of Long Valley Road or communicating with Kylena Berg or her husband personally, by mail or electronic means."
"Meaning?"
"You cannot call, text or send email messages to any of the Berg family."
"Wouldn't bloody want to," Werner snorted. “That bitch is not worth it."
The lawyer glanced up and saw the dark expression in the man's eyes. "My advice is to contain any emotions about your ex-wife when you are in public. Any outburst will merely play into the Crown prosecutor's hands."
"Yeah, yeah." Werner snapped. He reached for the bail document. "Where do I sign?"
After leaving prison, Mic Werner had two priorities. He visited the local brothel and found a young Asian girl from Thailand hardly out of high school. She was expensive but quite uninhibited and didn't object to his quite violent approach. Afterwards he visited a downtown bar and arranged to meet an acquaintance of his. They talked for twenty minutes before the man stood up and shook his head.
"No man," he said. “I’ll have nothing to do with it, nor will anyone else I know of. She's hot, man. If anyone goes within a country mile of her the cops will be down on us like flies around shit. Keep your money."
"Bastard," Werner snarled. However, he later found the man had told the truth. Nobody from the criminal world was the slightest bit interested in his proposition.
"Bloody cowards," the intoxicated Werner growled at two the following morning after his fourth rebuttal. "I'll get you myself my dear Mrs. Kylena Berg. Nobody gets the best of Mic Werner. Not even you, you fat bitch."
He wiped a dirty hand across his froth-stained moustache, decided to pay another visit to the young prostitute and left the nightclub. As he stumbled out the door he never noticed another seedy customer gulp his drink and discretely follow.
*
Detective Constable Fenton's orders were explicit. Until he was relieved in two hours time, he was to keep with Werner and take note of every person the man had contact with. Already the young Asian girl had been interviewed, removed from the brothel by the police and the owner told if any other under aged illegal immigrants were employed, the premises would be closed.
The owner was hard, one of the worst, but he believed the detective talking to him. An order went out that Mic Werner was not to be allowed back on the premises and two heavies were sent out to advise the man to stay away.
At five the same morning the badly beaten man was found in the park and transported to the hospital. The wounds were sore but caused no permanent injury except to enhance the man's already foul temper. Kylena was the cause of all his troubles and, by God, she was going to pay.
*