“Is she gonna to be ok?”
Hana recognised Logan’s scared voice and wanted to call out to him that she was fine. Then she remembered - he didn’t love her anymore and her head silenced her seeking, hopeful, foolish heart. Hana lay on the squashy bed in mute silence. She heard Phoenix asking Leslie for a biscuit with an impassioned “Peees Nonie, choc-choc one,” and felt cool hands on her forehead. Thinking it was Logan, she pushed them away.
“Back in the land of the living, Mrs Du Rose?”
The voice belonged to the local doctor. He practised in the Rangiriri township and Hana took Phoenix to see him once with a strange rash that turned out to be an allergy to tinned tuna fish. Hana said nothing, turning her face away from his striking Samoan features and watching dusk settle on the native bush. Where had the day gone? “Has your pregnancy been checked out by a doctor?” the kind man asked, sitting his rounded bottom down on the bed next to Hana. She nodded but the effort to speak evaded her. “Your blood pressure spiked this afternoon. That’s really dangerous for you and your baby. It’s getting back to normal now, but I’m not happy with you. It’s important you avoid stress for a while if you can, otherwise you’ll end up in hospital.”
Hana sighed, comforted by the numbness that whispered it would take care of her. She believed in God and hoped it was him. Her first words were croaky and rattled from her chest as Hana grasped the doctor’s hands in one of hers. “How can I get away from him?” she asked, looking nervously at Logan’s dark shape in the doorway. “Can you help me?”
The doctor widened his hazel eyes in alarm and Hana realised it wasn’t just him and her. They were all there, Alfred over by the window and Leslie nearby, clutching Hana’s daughter. The doctor rose in an awkward, jerky movement, feeling outnumbered in the Du Rose household. “Er...do you feel in danger, Mrs Du Rose?”
Hana nodded slowly, realising she did. Perhaps not physically, but definitely emotionally. She clung to sanity by her fingertips as an old archenemy threatened again. Rejection. She closed her eyes and tried to sort out the curious feeling of need that assailed her spirit. Isobel. She wanted her grown-up daughter. “Can you get in touch with my daughter?” Hana asked the doctor, her speech slow and laboured. He looked across at Phoenix and knitted his brow, perhaps thinking she was delirious. “She lives in Invercargill. I need to go and see her.” Hana heard the pleading in her voice and it made her want to cry with pity for herself. Pathetic.
Relief lit the doctor’s face as a bead of sweat slithered down his cheek. “You can’t travel to Invercargill, not in this state,” he said, putting more surety in his voice than he obviously felt. “You won’t get a certificate to travel on the airline and you’ll put yourself and your baby at terrible risk.”
“I’ll look after her,” Leslie volunteered. “We’ll be moving out of here soon, but until then, I’ll take responsibility for her.”
Hana stole a look at her husband. She expected to see victory but instead witnessed heartbreak. She closed her eyes, feeling nothing for him and glad for the absence of the extreme pain that was only a breath away. It would come, but thankfully not now. The doctor with wooden lips that turned it into a grimace and looked around him, desperate to leave the awful atmosphere. Hana hadn’t finished. “Doctor?”
The man stopped and turned back towards her, dreading whatever it was this woman had the power to unleash. He looked expectant. And terrified. “My husband’s having an affair with an old girlfriend who turned up yesterday. If I should die unexpectedly, please could you make sure everyone knows I was disposed of? The Du Roses do that, you know. They dispose of their problems and bury them.”
The doctor’s eyes were as wide as tennis balls in his head and he left quickly after that. Hana saw Logan’s jaw drop and it made her want to laugh. He looked stupid.
“Want to come with daddy?” Logan held his arms out to Phoenix and Hana’s heart clenched in fear. The denial was on her lips but before it could escape, her daughter did it for her.
“No! Stayin’ mummy.” The little girl sounded petulant and stubborn and Hana knew deep down it was dreadful to use a child as a weapon. Is this what would have happened if Vik had lived? Had she been spared his access visits with Bodie and Izzie and the agonised child-swap in various lay-bys around the Waikato, so that neither of them had to trespass on the other’s new life?
Hana tried to regulate her breathing, thinking as much of her new child as her daughter. She knew she should try and reason with Phoenix. After all, the little girl had two parents and surely this would get easier in time. But the energy to argue evaded her. Logan put his arms by his sides and left the room, taking the angry storm of emotion with him.
“You gave us such a scare!” Now the drama was over, Leslie collapsed in tears, needing Alfred to console her. Phoenix curled up on the bed next to Hana and poked her thumb into her mouth, providing a childlike security. She still wore the white riding hat and it dug painfully into Hana’s upper arm, but she enjoyed the scent of her daughter, wondering how soon Logan would draw the battle lines for custody of her. He could afford the best solicitors and make Hana appear insane.
She tried to block the thoughts from her mind, aware they only fuelled the stress Doctor Seuli told her to avoid. She ran her hand gently over the growing mound under her ribcage and felt a reassuring kick from inside her stomach wall. The baby was happier now. “That wasn’t exactly how I wanted him to find out.” Hana couldn’t bear to say her husband’s name. Leslie shook her head and patted Hana’s shoulder.
“Don’t think about him now. You’ve got us.”
Hana stayed in the spare room of the upstairs apartment for a few days recovering. Leslie minded Phoenix for her, getting someone else to cover her shifts in the hotel. Alfred disappeared for a few days and when he returned, he and Leslie did a lot of whispering in the kitchen. Hana stayed upstairs, watching out of the long windows towards the boundary fence, feeling again Alfred’s anguish over the years he had watched his unfaithful wife make the journey to her lover. “I always knew how that felt.” Hana ran her finger down the condensation, leaving a watery trail. “I just never wanted to feel it again.”
Hana was driven from the apartment out of desperation, needing to grab a handy change of clothes. She watched her husband’s new wahine walk around the topiary garden from upstairs and figured she was safe. The code for Logan’s bedroom hadn’t changed in years and Hana pressed the worn keypad, the numbers long since rubbed away. She turned the handle and found herself in a haze of hairspray and perfume which cloyed and blocked the back of her throat. The contents of a beauty parlour were aligned along the dressing table and the bed was rumpled and unmade. “I bet the maids don’t come in here,” she commented into the empty room and then remembering why she was there, hurried across to the tall dresser in the corner. The clothes that should have been there were gone. Hana’s spare jeans and sweaters had been replaced by silky lingerie and thong underwear with as much substance as dental floss.
“Damn it!” Hana cast around, wondering where her stuff could have been put. Another woman’s clothing covered every space which had been Hana’s and the woman’s heart constricted even tighter. On a whim she opened Logan’s drawer, finding his clothes neatly where he left them last time they stayed over. It was pointless being in the room and Hana rubbed her stomach as angst attacked her fragile nerves. Tears rose to the surface at how easily her presence had been expunged and Hana strode over to the door, intending to leave and crawl back up to her attic bedroom.
“What are you doing in my room?” The woman’s voice was like acid, dripping easily from bright pink lips and her eyes were threatening and unhinged.
“What have you done with my clothes?” Hana asked, aware of the sadness in her voice and the way the other woman’s eyes lit up with glee as she tasted victory.
“In the bin.” A perfectly manicured hand pointed in the direction of the dustbin and then Hana saw the hem of a denim pants leg poking out. Anger making her body shake, she walked over, spotting a pretty floral top nestled amongst oozing teabags.
“Why would you do that?” she bit, turning in time to see the woman’s smirk.
“I figured you wouldn’t need them, seeing as I’m sleeping in here with Logan and you’re not. I don’t like the idea of sharing drawer space with his ex. It’s too...gauche.”
“I’m not his ex, I’m his wife!”
The woman smiled openly. “That’s not what he said last night when he slept here with me. In fact, he put your stuff in the bin.”
Hana’s face paled horribly and she felt the familiar pounding of her pulse coursing through her stomach and smashing against the placenta. Her child deserved better than this dreadful scene. Without a word she left the room, abandoning her ruined clothes in the dustbin. She managed to get to the top of the attic stairs before she broke down, trying hard not to cry loudly and give the woman a few metres below, the satisfaction of knowing she had broken her.
For another day Hana hid, unable to face the thought of emerging at the bottom of the apartment steps and running into Logan’s new girlfriend on the landing. Hana convinced herself she was protecting her unborn baby, but knew inwardly that she protected herself. Logan came numerous times to see her, but each time, Leslie sent him away. “Youse don’t come near her!” she threatened him. Hana covered her ears so as not to hear his raised reply.
“Have a bath, kōtiro,” Alfred suggested that evening. “Me and the auld woman’s takin’ moko down for some dinner. Youse enjoy some peace. Leslie has some bath crap somewhere in the cupboard. Use that and freshen yourself up.”
They left, taking an eager Phoenix with them, on a promise of chocolate cake. Isolation crowded in on Hana as soon as the bottom door closed. “You look a right mess,” she told herself, prodding at the swollen skin around her eyes in the mirror. “No wonder he prefers English Barbie. You’re a pregnant blob of tears and snot!”
Hana filled the tin bath tub with bubbles and hot water and soaked until the feeling returned to her bones. It made her rally and find her strength and she sighed and ducked her head fully underneath the water. When she emerged, something unpleasant fell away from her soul and the fog cleared. “You need to go home, Hana,” she told herself. “Whether that’s to pack up or dig in, it’s up to you. But you can’t hide here any longer.”
Hana sauntered through the apartment wrapped loosely in a fluffy lilac towel. Her washed red hair was piled on her head with another towel and she resembled a turbaned princess. She hummed to herself, a melody from Phoenix’s favourite cartoon and she sensed a lightness in her spirit and a renewing of confidence. “God help me,” she whispered to herself. “I know you’re with me in this, but do you think you could maybe lessen the pain somehow?”
God smiled indulgently and refused.
“So this is your little eyrie, is it? High above the world like the crazy wife in the tower.” Her lilting voice made bile rise into Hana’s throat and she coughed on it, almost dropping her towel in confusion. The other woman waved a manicured hand at her as Hana grappled with the soft fabric to hide her modesty. “Oh goodness! Don’t mind me. I’ve seen far worse in old peoples’ homes, darling. Don’t feel you have to hide your wrinkles and faults from me.”
Hana took a deep breath and fought the urge to commit murder. There were little more than five years between them and Hana felt every single one stick into her heart. Thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not kill...except in very special circumstances...no, thou shalt not kill.
“You’re surprisingly fat for your build, aren’t you?” The woman waded in with the insults. “Have you tried the gym?”
“I’m...not.”
“Oh it’s fine, darling. It doesn’t matter what shape you are anymore. I have no idea what Logan ever saw in you, but that’s what I’m here to let you know. You and he are done. As soon as the divorce is through, we’ll be married. I’m prepared to accept Logan’s daughter as my own. It’ll be good for our son to have a sibling after all these years. It’s been hard for Ryan, poor sweetheart. We’ll be seeing a solicitor soon and I thought it was only courtesy to warn you. Logan wasn’t bothered. He thought the legal documentation would be clear enough, but I’m of the gentler variety. It’s only fair really.”
Hana’s breathing came in short gasps and she remained silent, not through any force of will but because it took all her energy to work her lungs. “Divorce?” she managed.
“Yes, darling. Don’t take it hard though. It was fairly inevitable under the circumstances. I’m sure Logan will make sure you’re all right financially and perhaps you can see Phoebe a few times a month? I think Logan will work those details out with the legal people.”
“Phoebe?” Hana repeated, as though the woman spoke a different language altogether.
“Yes darling. Remember? Your daughter. Goodness! You do have it bad. Is it alcohol or drugs? Or both?”
“Get out!” Hana managed with effort. “Just get out.”
“Goodbye darling. All the best.” The woman clattered over the floorboards towards the stairs and clumped down them one by one.
With a valiant degree of self-control, Hana succeeded in not rushing after her and giving her an almighty push. But then her wrath found Logan in its sights and by the time Phoenix returned with her grandparents, bearing a bowl of custard and some interesting looking pie for her mother, Hana resembled the crazy lady in the tower in all respects. “I didn’t hear her coming,” Hana sobbed. “I hate Logan. I hate him.”
Despite Leslie’s best efforts, she made no sense of Hana’s ramblings and whispered fearfully to Alfred in bed hours later, “I think she’s going mad like Miriam.”
“Can you take me up to the house?” Hana asked Leslie after four days of seclusion. “I need some things.”
“If you’re sure,” the old woman replied.
They drove up in silence with Phoenix singing softly in the back seat of Alfred’s old Land Rover.
“Do you think she’s been up here...with him?” Hana asked as they pulled up in the driveway.
“No, I don’t.”
“How do you know?” Hana turned her wide green eyes on Leslie and watched her carefully for the truth.
“Because I’ve been keepin’ an eye on ‘em,” she said. “I don’t think it’s what we first thought. They went up to the airport yesterday to get the boy and when they got back, Logan looked fed up of her. He’s been working real hard to stay out of her way and at night, he comes back here to sleep. Alone. She can’t get up here without a ride. She don’t drive. She arrived at the hotel in one of them shuttle things from the airport.”
“Does the boy look like him?” Hana asked distracted. She winced at Leslie’s answer.
“He’s definitely a Du Rose, my love. I’m sorry.”
Hana lay her head back against the headrest and tried to run her hands through her hair, her fingers snagging in the red curls. “I don’t know what to do,” she sighed. “I think I want to stay up here because then I don’t have to run into his fancy woman. But then I have to share a house with him and I don’t want that either. I can go to Bodie’s place but I don’t think I can cope with explaining it all. Bodie will just love this. I can hear him now telling me how he warned me what a loose cannon Logan was and how he could have told me how it would all end. What is it about me, Leslie? How can I get things so wrong?”
Leslie stroked a tendril of hair out of Hana’s face, her eyes sending love into the poor woman’s tortured soul. “I don’t think he’s slept with her. Sylvia, she calls herself. I think she wants him to but I don’t think he has. I judged him and now I’ve taken a step back, I feel sure it was all one-sided.”
Hana shrugged. “I don’t know if I care anymore. When I reach for the place in my heart that Logan used to occupy, it’s empty. It’s like a jewellery box that’s been raided, all the precious things taken away and just the crap left hanging over the sides waiting for someone to throw it out. I cooked him a special dinner and got dressed up like a fool to tell him about the baby, only to have him treat me like dirt when he got home. Then he humiliated me in the stable yard. How could he let me find out about her with everyone watching?”
Hana ran a shaking hand over her face. She’d been down this road far too often. It led to nowhere but a shredded glass path with barbed wire handrails.
“Let’s get you settled, then you might know what you wanna do.” Leslie’s face was full of compassion and Hana was grateful for her presence.
Hana decided to lay claim to the master bedroom. She wasn’t going to be able to keep her blood pressure down if her night on the sofa was anything to go by. She and Leslie spent the afternoon moving Logan’s things out and the busyness of the activity stemmed the pain at what Hana was actually doing. They took the drawers through one by one and then Leslie carried the cupboards. The little family had moved into the house three months ago, returning from Europe and greeting their new life with enthusiasm and hope. The two spare bedrooms remained empty of furniture and Hana put Logan in the room furthest from hers. She told herself she didn’t care if he had to sleep on the floor, but inwardly worried she was simply driving him further into the other woman’s arms. “The bedroom door’s got a lock on it,” she told Leslie, “so I’ll be safe. But I don’t want Phoenix out there on her own. I want to move the cot in with me.”
“I think you’re taking things a bit far,” the old lady chided her. “He’s not going to hurt you or my moko. He wouldn’t!”
Hana shrugged and insisted. The wooden cot was purpose built so that the sides could be taken off and allow it to convert into a small single bed. It was too heavy and Leslie couldn’t lift it on her own. She went into the hallway with her cell phone and made a call. Hana realised her phone was probably in one of the carrier bags Leslie had bought up from the hotel. The battery would be flat for sure by now and she didn’t know if the phone mast had been fixed. Staying at the house and unable to summon help suddenly seemed like a foolish idea.
Twenty minutes later there was a knock at the front door and Leslie dropped her pillowcase and waddled off to open it. “That’ll be Flick,” she called over her shoulder.
“Pardon?” Hana carried on changing the sheets on the king size four poster bed, resisting the disgusting urge to sniff them for evidence of the blonde woman’s perfume. When she turned abruptly at a noise in the doorway, Robert Dressler leaned against the wooden frame watching her. He had removed his boots, revealing a hole in his sock and his jeans were covered in some kind of engine oil. His mousy fringe hung in his eyes, his rampant beard shaved back to designer stubble. His blue eyes studied Hana as she fiddled with the edge of the duvet, trying to fit the awkward poppers together to close it. His pink lips curled back in a half smile and he winked at Hana lazily.
“Don’t look at me like that, Bobby,” she warned the man, resisting the urge to cry under his kindness. Hana heard him sniff and couldn’t help herself, glancing in his direction only to find him stood at her elbow. His hands were coarse and rough as he snagged the duvet cover and tugged it free from her fingers. Then he took her in his arms and bent his tall body around her, shielding her from the world for just a moment.
“You don’t need my pity,” he whispered into her hair, “you’re better than that.”
Hana cried softly into the tough fabric of his shirt, not understanding anymore why tears appeared without warning. Bobby held her and Hana felt his love flowing into her bones. Once, it was his mission to harm her and he had been good at it, wreaking an awful kind of havoc into her life without caring. His penance now was to love her from a distance and watch her trying to make a life with her husband. That was his self-imposed punishment. Hana sighed, no longer having the energy to take responsibility for another’s suffering. “Just say the word and I’ll drop the bastard over a cliff,” he muttered into her curls, kissing the side of her head.
Hana laughed and he swore, “I’m not soddin’ joking.”
For some reason it seemed inappropriately funny and Hana struggled to hold in her mirth. It felt good to laugh. Gently she extracted herself from his grasp, not wanting to unfairly lead him on. The man was besotted and stayed at the farm because of her. A fugitive, he was in hiding from the cops but that was old news. Hana’s policeman-son had told his mother Flick was of little interest nowadays, his warrant a long way down on the list of police priorities. They were overworked and underpaid. If he got picked up, it would be pure bad luck.
Hana sat down on the bed and looked around her. The room looked oddly strange with only one bedside cabinet and tallboy. It seemed unbalanced; like her marriage. Leslie clattered away down the hall, sliding the drawers back into place in Logan’s new room. Bobby sat his backside down on the expensive sheets after running a hand over the seat of his jeans to ensure they were clean. “Not too bad,” he said, inspecting his hand. Hana smiled at him.
“You set out to kill me and yet you’re the only person who’s made me smile in days. Twice.”
“It’s my sparkling personality. Besides, I’m done making you cry.”
The moment felt intense and Hana felt his gaze fixed on her, wanting more than she was able to give. Hana bit her lip. “Please would you be able to help Leslie carry Phoe’s stuff in here...before...”
“Before he gets home?” Bobby finished the sentence for her, reaching across and taking her fingers in his. His hands were warm and infused Hana with a sense of comfort and well-being. She tasted danger in the back of her throat. “Why did you come back up here?” his voice was low and husky.
“I have nowhere else to go.” Hana’s admission invoked a stab of pain. “I have high blood pressure in a high risk pregnancy. I’m not allowed to fly to see Izzie, Bodie will enjoy my misery far too much and I don’t have the energy to run around looking for alternatives right now.”
“Fair enough.” He caressed her fingers softly. Then he let go as the sound of Leslie clumping down the hallway reached their ears. “Just tell me where you want stuff.”
Sweating and swearing, Leslie and Bobby hefted the heavy wooden cot down the hallway and got it stuck in the bedroom door. Hana laughed at them until she cried and almost peed her pants. It was too wide for the bend just before the master bedroom and couldn’t be turned on its side owing to the rails. They were forced to back down the hallway with Phoenix sat in the cot like an Indian princess committing suttee. Leslie kicked it as they put it back where they started. Phoenix scaled the cot sides like a monkey, rendering them pointless.
“Tama taught her to do that,” Hana sighed. “Idiot boy.”
“Want me to take it apart?” Bobby asked and Hana wondered whether he meant with a screw driver or his fists. The latter looked probable.
“No, thanks. She can just sleep with me,” Hana said, feeling apologetic. “Look, we’ll be fine. You both go back now.”
Darkness shrouded them as Leslie hugged Hana on the front porch. Bobby chased his cowboy boots around the floor for a moment and then pressed his lips to Hana’s forehead with revealing tenderness. Leslie’s face was comical as it registered shock and then understanding. Hana knew where the old woman’s brain ran with it, but was too exhausted to reassure her.
They left Hana to her torturous thoughts and went their respective ways with hearts separately laden with misgiving.
“Hana?” Logan’s voice sounded hopeful as he came into the kitchen and found her sat in the light from the open microwave, picking at the crust on a frozen steak pie. It seemed like a good idea but her appetite left her as soon as it emerged from the microwave, wrinkled and sweaty instead of crusty and lush. “Hana, can we talk? Please?” Logan sounded desperate and Hana battled with a sense of victory, that somehow things hadn’t all gone his way.
“No,” she replied. “I don’t want to speak to you. Stay away from me.” She made the mistake of looking at him, seeing his inner agony and feeling it attack her resolve. It made her harder than she needed to be. “Just think of me as a...flatmate really. We just share airspace until I’m well enough to get the hell out of here. Then we can talk through a solicitor.”
Logan looked at her in confusion. “But I’ve done nothing wrong. I haven’t been unfaithful, I haven’t...”
“Well you certainly looked it! Strutting around your property with Cosmopolitan Barbie on your arm, snogging your face off at every opportunity. Am I meant to be ok with that or something? I mean, she’s in the bedroom we usually use so what am I supposed to think?”
“You’re not leaving me and you are definitely not taking Phoe!” Logan’s voice had an edge of steel and Hana cringed visibly.
“You can’t stop me.”
Logan’s voice was cold and hard, “I can and I will. If you hate me that much and feel you really have to go, then go.” Hana turned to look at him, sensing the rising threat. “But once you set foot off this property, you forfeit all rights to our daughter for good. You will never see her again.”
Hana felt sickness rise into her gullet and the baby pushed awkwardly into her back. Fear and dread snaked wicked fingers over her heart at the thought of losing her daughter. Tama’s mother, Aroha, was never permitted back to claim her son and it destroyed her life. And his. Tama didn’t understand how going against the Du Roses, had been impossible for the teenage girl two decades ago.
Hana scraped the wasted pie angrily into the dustbin and clanged her crockery into the dishwasher with shaking fingers. Opening the fridge to retrieve milk for a cup of tea she spotted the dinner she made for Logan a lifetime ago, to celebrate their new baby. The few small bites of pie continued to curdle in her guts and rage added itself to the gnawing ache in her stomach. “Oh, guess what?” she started, seizing hold of the platters and thumping them onto the centre island. She stripped off the plastic wrap, seeing how the beautifully cooked food had crinkled at the edges in the days since. “Here’s that gorgeous meal I cooked you to celebrate our new child. I wish you’d seen it, it was perfect. Look,” she held up the steak, dripping marinade onto the counter. “Miriam’s special recipe from out of my head. Just for you. She would be so proud of you, Logan. Such a credit to her aren’t you? An adulterer like your mother and a bully like your real father. I bet they’re counting down the days until you join them. In Hell!”
In anger Hana flung the steak at her husband, feeling a sense of satisfaction as he put his arm up to prevent the accurate shot from hitting him in the face. The marinade smeared down his sleeve and the steak fell to the floor with a splat.
“Don’t forget to eat your veggies,” Hana said in a sing-song voice and threw the platter at him. It was a skilled underarm shot that flew like a slow Frisbee. Logan managed to catch the plate with his excellent reactions but the veggies stayed airborne, flying off the fairground ride and smashing into his body. Orange pumpkin and red kumara mixed with yellow grease and slipped down his shirt, landing unceremoniously on the tiled floor. Hana wanted to add the perfectly beaten mashed potato to the casserole on her husband but resisted. He looked like a pressure cooker about to blow a valve.
“I’d probably throw that shirt away,” Hana said, injecting an eerie calm into her voice. “You shouldn’t find that too hard to do. You’re better at throwing things away than I ever gave you credit for.”
She left the room with catwalk precision and dignity, denying Logan his retort and leaving him with a mess that would offend his neat-freak tendency enough to allow her to get to sleep. But not everything was destined to go Hana’s way. She had put Phoenix to bed in the four poster in the master bedroom but once down there, Hana was alarmed to find her gone. The little girl had climbed out and taken herself back to where she felt she belonged, scaling the cot sides and putting herself to bed.
Denied her final victory, Hana was unable to shut and lock the bedroom door like she planned. Instead she was forced to leave it ajar in case Phoenix needed her. She lay down on the familiar mattress, relieved at the scent of freshly laundered sheets. She heard Logan come and stand outside the door, seeing his outline in the light from the hallway. He stood there for a long while and eventually Hana fell asleep, too tired to cry or even think straight.