“What’s she doing here? Oh yeah, that’s right, she owns everything now, doesn’t she? Happy Mrs Du Rose? Would you like to look around, maybe move your stuff in?”
“Asher, stop!” his mother pleaded. She sat on the sofa with her head in her hands. “You have to stop this. I can’t take any more. Please?” Anahera looked frighteningly fragile and tears welled up in her beautiful brown eyes. Her eyes seemed massive in her face, the weight dropping off her even as she sat there.
Hana felt a stab of fear in her heart, acknowledging the very real possibility that the woman might be desperately ill. She fought the urge to make a biting remark at the arrogant Du Rose male in front of her but only for Anahera’s sake. Wiri looked anxious and gripped Phoenix’s hand as she stood next to him. She sucked her thumb and stared watchfully in that intense way she had, missing absolutely nothing but not understanding either. Hana felt sure the child possessed an incredible filing system in her brain which stored data for future reference. It was exactly what Logan did. He was a mine of information.
Hana took a deep breath and stepped into the role of peacemaker. “I’m sorry you don’t like me, Asher. But your mother’s obviously not well. Can’t we just agree to disagree for her sake?”
“For her sake!” he exclaimed and Hana realised with dismay she had only inflamed the situation. “When have you and that jerk husband ever done anything for our sake?” He said Logan’s name and swore viciously and Hana’s redheaded temper flared. She struggled visibly, her green eyes flashing. Asher put the boot in, turning his spite on the innocent. “What are you lookin’ at?”
Undaunted, Phoenix stared the young man down, only her lips moving gently against her thumb. Sensing danger to his friend, Wiri gripped her hand tighter and turned his beautiful face towards Hana’s daughter, whispering confidentially. “Phoe, d’ya wanna see my cars?”
The little girl turned to him wide-eyed and nodded. Then she glanced at her mother and Hana managed to nod once.
“No way!” Asher hadn’t finished. “We don’t need you snooping around our place.”
“Snooping?” Hana couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
“Yeah, snooping!” Asher’s grey eyes flashed with a latent danger that was instantly more threatening. Something behind his eyes appeared unhinged and reminded Hana of Kane Du Rose. Hana looked across at Anahera, who watched her with an undisguised sense of fear. Hana didn’t know what to say. She fixed her eyes on her daughter’s dress as she swished down a long hallway to Wiri’s bedroom. The little boy hadn’t once let go of Phoenix’s hand.
Anahera got unstably to her feet. “Asher, you’re being ridiculous. Don’t you understand that Reuben lost everything? We had nothing left. Logan bought your dad out and gave him a job and us a home. Why can’t you accept that?”
Asher shook his handsome dark head violently. “Lies. All lies. The developers offered Dad millions for the land. Logan didn’t pay half that. They offered us a fortune and Dad turned it down. He wanted to keep it in the family. He sold out and we got nothing.”
“How do you know what the developers offered Dad?” Anahera fired the question at her son and a red rash began on her neck, spreading outwards until it blemished her jaw and chin as well. “Who told you, Asher? Is it whoever’s making you do this to us?”
Asher blanched, his olive skin paling on his lovely features. Hana struggled to catch up, knowing she had just missed something fairly major. “Sod off, Mum!” Asher shouted at the woman who had birthed and raised him in a warzone, without thought for herself. “Just shut up. You’re useless!”
His mother’s face crumpled in grief and Hana was instantly appalled. She had worked in an all-boys school for sixteen years and the angry young man reduced himself to the level of a mardy fourteen year old in her eyes. Hana’s face burned with righteous indignation. “Don’t you dare speak to her like that! Who do you think you are?” She faced him down, a furious banshee with flame red hair and eyes the colour of emerald gems. Asher was tall like all the Du Rose men. He turned his spite and sense of injustice fully on her instead.
“Who do I think I am? Oh, I know who I am, lady. I’m the rightful heir and you’re a bastard’s wife.”
Before even considering her actions, Hana slapped him straight across the face. He recoiled with a sneer on his lips and worked hard not to touch his bristled skin to check for damage. Hana’s palm stung from the action and the scratchy sensation from Asher’s beard.
Idiot! Her inner voice reprimanded her. Hana’s pounding heart ached in her chest and she touched the pacemaker under her left collarbone with the tips of her fingers. Her right hand shook as she rested it on her blouse, feeling the comforting bulge under her skin. Asher’s jaw worked furiously in his face, the bone appearing and disappearing through his stubble. “You’re a bitch!” he said but his tone was less frightening and his eyes held a flicker of respect for Hana. Something inside her head snapped with the increased blood pressure and she sought an end to the awful situation.
“You know what?” she bit at him. “If my husband’s so distasteful to you, why don’t you just leave like Kane did? Why are you sticking around? Go and make your own life, do your own thing. You’re big enough and ugly enough to make your own legacy and do a better job of it than us.”
“What?” Asher’s jaw dropped and his mouth hung slackly open. Anahera’s eyes bugged as though they were going to pop out of her head and Hana gulped. She had just done exactly what they expected. Inwardly she kicked herself for her own poor judgement. She had forced herself into a corner and didn’t know how to extricate herself from the situation without doing more damage. She was like a serrated knife, plunging herself into a crisis and turning it into a tragedy on her way out.
Without losing any of her credibility, Hana shook her head and smiled sadly at the conflicted young man, softening her tone. “What do you want from me, Asher?” She opened her arms, palm up in a gesture of exasperation. “Do you want me to tell you to leave? I can do that if you want and my husband will back me up, whether he agrees with me or not. What do you want?”
The young man’s jaw worked some more, grinding his nice teeth without mercy. Hana waited and then shook her head at his lack of reply. “Whatever,” she said dismissively. “You think what you like. My husband paid a fair price for this land and cleared other debts you probably weren’t even aware of. He gave your father the opportunity to stay on whānau land and work the whenua as he always wanted.” Hana turned to leave, the destruction already complete. “I’ll give you two choices, Asher. Change your attitude around my family and stop bad mouthing my husband, or you can go. Personally, I don’t care which you choose. It’s entirely up to you, but if I ever hear you use that word for my husband’s heritage again, I’ll throw you off this property myself. Do we understand each other?”
The young man ground his teeth some more and Hana waited, determined to see this out even if she had to wait all day. She raised her eyebrows expectantly at him, her heart beating a tattoo in her chest and sending the blood way to fast to her brain. When he still didn’t reply, she shrugged and turned. “Phoe!” she called pleasantly down the hallway and her voice echoed off the newly painted walls and ceiling of the homestead. Out of the corner of her eye, Hana saw Anahera slump back down on the sofa again and put her face in her hands.
“Mama!” Phoenix sounded excited and trotted into the hallway from a bedroom to the right. Her curls bounced with her ungainly run and she held a small object out in her hand. Wiri sauntered after her casually, his hands rammed into the front pockets of his jeans. He exuded pure ‘Du Rose’ with every fibre of his being. “Look what Wiri gived me!” Phoenix ran into Hana’s legs and held the object aloft. A small blue toy car sat in her hand, teetering on the tiny palm as though parked there and left to its fate.
Hana squatted down to look, biting her bottom lip and wondering how to extract herself from a situation which seemed to get worse by the second. She felt Asher’s eyes boring into her back and heard the victory trumpets in his heart. Here they go again, taking what belongs to others. Hana could imagine his thought pattern. “It’s beautiful,” she told her daughter.
“Like Tama’s,” Phoe cried, only really interested in the similarity.
“It is, clever girl,” Hana praised her daughter. “So how about we borrow it for tonight to show Tama and then put it back in Wiri’s room with its brothers and sisters? Then when Wiri comes to play with you, he can bring it again? Like a game. Yes?” Hana worked hard to sell the story and Phoenix knitted her brow in concentration. Please don’t kick off. Please don’t kick off, Hana pleaded inside her head, fully prepared to deal with it if she did, but really not wanting to with her current audience. Phoenix looked at Wiri for confirmation and he smiled generously at her.
“K,” she said happily. “Showin’ Tama. You come my house, Wiri,” she said and pointed her finger into his chest.
“Ok.” He smiled.
Hana closed her eyes and swallowed while her back was still turned. Stress waves rolled over her whole body. “Awesome! Maybe Wiri would like to do baking at our house one day this week?”
Both children’s eyes lit up and Phoenix licked her lips exaggeratedly. “Makin’ Tama cakes!” she cried and bounced on the spot. She wasn’t yet competent at completely leaving earth and wobbled slightly on the downward. Wiri smiled and looked thrilled with the invite.
“Great then,” Hana said with false bravado. “Wiri can come for his car and bake cakes.” She looked across at Anahera but the woman kept her head down. Feeling awkwardly and with her heart still thudding in her chest, Hana left the house. She pushed her feet into her boots and did up the zips but Phoenix, frustrated with her tiny trainers, stripped off her tights on the doormat and carried it all in her arms. Wiri stepped out onto the gravel like all New Zealand children, without shoes. Phoenix was rapidly becoming one of them.
Hana strapped Phoenix into the car seat in the back of the truck while Wiri stood patiently next to her, one hand resting on the arm of the car seat. He looked wistful, as though he wished he could come with them and Hana felt torn. She bobbed down to his level. “Darling, please don’t run away like that again, will you? It scares me that you walked so far on your own.” The child nodded and looked sad. “Wiri, the house telephone can ring the hotel, did you know that?” He shook his head. “Do you know your numbers yet?” Hana asked him and he nodded. In the dust on the truck door, Hana wrote a zero with her finger. “That one. Press that one and you’ll get through to someone on reception. Tell them it’s Wiri and ask them to find Hana. Do you understand?” He nodded.
“Look for the circle and ask them to find Hana,” he sighed. She nodded. He was a bright boy. So much of his situation reminded her of all she had heard about Logan’s upbringing. He had been a small, dark haired boy trapped in a lonely, unhappy life, with no understanding of the wars which raged around over his head. Hana wanted to scoop Wiri up and take him home and fought the maternalism that screamed inside her head on his behalf. No, she defied it. I need to stop collecting other people’s children to love better.
“Hana,” Anahera’s voice sounded strangled as her feet crunched across the gravel in her slippers. “Thanks for bringing Wiri home. He just gets really fed up of all the upset.” Her eyes welled up with tears again. “I’m sorry about Asher. I never realised until now that it’s all about the money with him. I thought it was about the land but it’s not.” A sob escaped her throat and Hana sighed and put her arms around the other woman. “He’s not a horrid kid,” Anahera cried. “Please don’t think badly of him.”
“I won’t,” Hana promised. “My son can be a total jerk sometimes. I’ve lost count of the number of fights we’ve had recently. It’ll all be fine, I’m sure.”
Anahera shook her head. “I don’t think it will. Not unless he...” The woman stopped and pulled away from Hana’s kind arms. “Thanks for bringing Wiri,” she said again and dried her eyes on her sleeve. She reached for the little boy’s hand and he gripped hers placidly, smiling up at Phoenix with a look of failed nonchalance that was far too old for his years.
Phoenix reached out with her arm and stretched towards her little friend. She pretended to be chatting like the women. She opened and closed her mouth and tossed her head as though having a silent conversation. Wiri laughed and she sniggered. “Luff you Wiri,” she said softly and he crinkled up his eyes, the weight of the world for that single moment, no longer bearing down on his wise, four-year-old shoulders.