“Don’t come to me for sympathy!” Hana held her hand out palm upwards as the men wandered into the kitchen, jostling each other through the door.
“He’s just jealous,” Tama commented, pulling a face at his uncle. “When was the last time you managed...?”
Logan raised his hand to slap the younger man and Tama ducked away. “Want another split lip, Uncle? I’m more than capable of doing you some serious damage - then you can kiss my ass goodbye for good!” Tama’s grey eyes flashed with danger and both powerful men squared up to each other.
Hana turned to see an oozing cut on Logan’s lower lip and blood trickling down his chin. Tama had an open wound above his eyebrow and her heart sank. “So we’re back to this, are we?” she asked them both. “Lucy falsely accuses you,” she stabbed her finger at the silly boy in front of her, “so you go off and use some dumb girls to make your ego feel better! Then you come home and wind Logan up to make him want to finish the job. Was that your intention? Is it total self-annihilation you’re looking for, or just to alienate everyone who loves you? For goodness sake, how many times do we have to go back here?” Hana slammed her palm down on the table, enraged by the pain that shot through her wrist. As an attempt to make her point, it was an epic fail.
“You should know better!” She jabbed a pointy finger at her husband. “And what’s next Tama? You’re leaving for good are you? How do you want this to end? You storm off back to Auckland and then make it so that you can’t come back here? You tell me that we’re the only family you’ve ever known and then you deliberately wreck it for yourself. I will never understand you Du Rose men. You know what? Phoenix Du Rose said over and over again in those diaries, ‘The Du Rose men will be the ruin of this family.’ I’ve watched you both do this so many times, I’m losing the will to live with it anymore.” Hana pushed her chair back roughly from the table and thrust her mug away from her. Cool tea slopped onto the wood and made a puddle in a formerly hidden dip. She stalked from the room and slammed her bedroom door, feeling the old lady’s words wash over her like the curse it was.
Hana slumped onto the bed and put her hands over her ears to block out the matriarch’s whispers.
“Mama, lemme in.” The toddler’s voice came from near the bottom of the door and Hana leapt to open it. Phoenix waddled in with Fluffy in her arms, one of his ears bent inside out. “Mens shoutins. It scary me.”
“Sorry, baby.” Hana picked her daughter up and cradled her. “Come for a cuddle?” Phoenix nodded her fluffy head against her mother’s chest and then snuggled down with her underneath the covers. The bed was still rucked up from Logan’s exit and Hana felt his warmth lingering in the sheets.
“Bad boys waked me up.” Phoe pouted and pushed her face into her mother’s armpit, squeezing her eyes tight shut and showing all the signs of wanting to return to the safety of sleep. Hana stroked the slender back with gentle hands and felt her daughter slumber easily, as only carefree children could. She sighed and thought about Sylvia again, the woman’s death weighing heavily on her mind. She was no nearer to solving the mystery. With each pass through the list of possible murderers, Hana found it surprisingly easy to discount all prospective subjects. No one person had a greater motive than any other. The whole thing seemed futile. Whichever way she looked at the problem, she and Logan were the most likely killers. To her surprise, Hana dozed off in the silent bedroom, the sound of Sacha’s continuous munching outside the window providing the only distraction.
Logan was absent when Hana woke later and a note on the kitchen counter in his neat, left-handed scrawl told her he was sorry for his behaviour and had gone to work. Hana felt his disgrace leaking from the tatty page. She went outside in her nightdress and wellington boots to bathe Sacha’s leg with more salt water, replacing the honey and working it into the wound gently with her fingers. “It’s looking good, old girl,” she mused, squatting down to check her work. “But once it’s all better, you’ll have to go back down the mountain. You can’t hide up here for the rest of your life. You know Logan’s rule, hey?” Hana looked up at the bristly chin and the mare eyed her calmly. “Everyone has to earn their keep.” She mimicked the dictatorial mantra of her husband in a low voice that hurt her throat and Sacha thanked her for the reminder, by snuffing snot all down the back of her nightdress.
“Euwgh!” Hana stood up and pulled a face and the mare winked her blue wall-eye. Then she did it again, spattering the front with warm breath and green blobs. “If that’s your idea of thanks, then it rates with Tama’s. He’s such a stupid boy!”
Sacha pushed her white forehead into Hana’s arm and rubbed against her in a quick, up and down motion, satiating an itch. Hana giggled and reached for the hard poll between the horse’s ears, scratching it for her. “The one place on your body you can’t scratch,” Hana crooned. More grass-laden snot issued from the huge nostrils, signifying happiness and peace.
The woman looked down at her clothing and wrinkled her pretty nose. The granny nightie had been dragged from her packing boxes at the start of the winter. Pale mauve with a tiny flower pattern, it was flannelette and warm.
“That’s the unsexiest piece of clothing I’ve ever seen in my life!” Logan complained frequently, his amorous attempts thwarted by the tiny buttons at the neck and the voluminous length of it. “It’s like a bloody fortress!”
Hana ran her fingers over the worst patch of snot and sighed as the remaining honey and clumps of horse hair added to the mess.
Without warning, Sacha’s head shot up at a sound only she had registered. Hana took a step back, protecting her stomach by instinct. The huge mare fixed her eyes on an area at the side of the property, where the bush was held back from encroaching by a sturdy wooden fence. Sunshine made the canopy appear darker beyond the trees and Hana saw nothing to be alarmed about. Sacha’s eyes became wild and the whites showed around her irises as she stared with an alertness that was frightening and threatened catastrophe. Her muscular frame tensed, veins rising out of her powerful shoulders like watersheds and pressing against the white skin. She made an awful noise. Not a gentle snuff, but a snort of anger as the Arab in her breeding roused. The horse moved but not her usual, graceful, floating gait. She charged at the fence.
Hana squeaked and stepped back, kicking over the jug with the remainder of the salt water. Her rubber boot sent the manuka honey spinning in a different direction and she stumbled, managing to right herself at the last minute. Sacha snorted in fury and ran at the fence numerous times, jarring to a halt and skidding in the mud. She was terrifying. With teeth bared and eyes rolling, the mare lost patience with the barrier and barged it with her shoulder.
“Sacha, no!” Mindful of her own safety, but concerned that the mare would do herself further harm, Hana ran over in her boots, the granny-nightie flapping and her red hair streaming out behind her. “Stop!”
Hana reached the fence and gripped it for reassurance as the mare turned towards her. Sacha’s breath came in short gasps and her ears lay flat against her head. Hana’s chest tensed in fear as the mare took a few steps backwards and then reared. She was sideways on to Hana as her enormous hooves pawed the air and head back, she let out a terrifying call. The timbre of it was ear splitting and even to Hana’s untrained ears - it was a warning. When the heavy front feet made contact with the ground, they sent out a splat of mud to further embellish poor Hana’s nightie. Sacha’s body remained perfectly square and she stared into the bush with menace in the brown and blue eyes.
Hana gulped and stood still. Turning her head without further spooking the mare, she peered into the bush. “There’s nothing there,” she whispered, her breathing tight and her body shaking from the receding adrenaline.
Then she saw it, on the floor of the bush a few metres in and as soon as she spied it, she smelled the familiar scent. The ground was moist and the risk of fire slight, but Hana clambered over the post and rail fence and picked her way towards the thin trail of smoke. The hand-rolled cigarette lay on the ground, discharging its poison fruitlessly. Hana stepped on it with her boot and then reached through the vines to retrieve it. She held it between thumb and finger, careful not to touch the spiralled end which had recently been in someone’s mouth. Long and thin, strings of brown tobacco floundered at its end, blackened by the last of the burning. Peering through the vines, Hana spotted the pressed area, revealing footprints in the soft earth and then her keen eyes, accustomed to the gloom, saw the trail of damaged supplejack vine left by the owner of the cigarette as they made their escape.
Tripping and stumbling, Hana ran for the boundary fence and the angry mare, desperate for the protection of both. Bush lawyer’s hooky thorns snagged at the nightie and the thighs beneath. Hana wrenched them away with fingers that bled. But she held the cigarette aloft, determined not to lose her evidence. Hana climbed awkwardly over the fence, aware that the watcher may still be there. She hurried around to the front door and hurled herself on the bench to remove her boots.
“Oh God!” Hana appealed to her maker, staring at her pink toes on the cold concrete as she put her head between her knees to stem the panic. The scraping of hooves in front of her revealed that Sacha had followed. Her white body blocked access to the woman as she stood guard over her and a wet nostril reached out and sniffed Hana’s messy red locks. Hana raised green eyes that were wide and frightened. “Who’s watching me?” she asked the mare. “Sylvia’s dead, they’ve dealt with Asher and even Flick’s gone.”
Sacha rested her chin on Hana’s head, offering comfort as one mother to another, but it was uncomfortable. “Rawhiti said you’d be a good guard dog,” Hana sniffed, fighting ready tears. Sacha whickered softly and rubbed her forehead up and down Hana’s arm. “Ooh, watch out.” Hana gripped the cigarette between shaking fingers and kissed the downy hair above Sacha’s nostril. The mare stepped back as Hana stood up, grateful for the heavy shoulder to lean on. “I wish you could tell me who it was.”
In the kitchen, Hana lay the precious evidence on a saucer and turned around. Tama stood in the doorway observing her. His brows knitted in confusion. “Strange running clothes, Ma.” His smile was wistful and sad. He pointed at the clumps of bush lawyer adorning the hem and the unfortunate rip in the side. “Logan will be gutted.” His manner made Hana suspicious and she watched him carefully. Tama shrugged. “I’m just packing up and then I’ll be out of your hair. Thanks for everything.” He left the room with his shoulders hunched and the weight of the world pressing down on his head.
“Don’t you dare run away, Tama Du Rose!” Hana’s sharp rebuke made the young man jump as he attempted to stuff too much clothing into a small rucksack.
“Geez! Don’t do that!” Guilt made him tetchy and easily unnerved.
“Then what’s all the, ‘Thanks for everything,’ rubbish? Yeah, you screwed up. Why make it ten times worse?”
“Please don’t make it harder for me?” Tama begged. He threw his backside onto the bed and it groaned in protest. Tama rubbed his fists into his eyes and kept them closed, even after he finished and his hands lay twitching in his lap. Hana sat on the bed next to him and put her arm around his neck.
“Stupid boy! You think you can’t make a mistake and be forgiven? I spend my life apologising.”
“No, I can’t. I’m like Liza; completely ruined. I just need to live by myself and stay away from people, like she does. I’ll throw myself into firefighting instead of relationships and do the world a favour.”
Hana turned his face towards her, disturbed by the hopelessness in Tama’s eyes. He resisted and the movement was strained. “Then I’ve done a very poor job with you, my love.” Tender fingers stroked the rough skin of the young man’s cheek, undaunted by the tear that trickled over them. “I love you, Tama Du Rose,” Hana whispered, deliberately repeating the precious name that Logan had paid to bestow on him. “You’re my boy now. You’re irritating and you eat everything out of the pantry. You open your mouth and put both feet in and I love you. I’ll always love you. You’re my friend and confidante and the day you graduate from fire service training, I want to be there. I’ll be the proudest mummy in the crowd and won’t be able to stop myself crying and making a show of you. You’ve come so far, babe. Don’t cut yourself off from us. Please?”
“But I don’t deserve you. I’ve messed up!” Angry fists formed on rigid thighs and Tama turned away embarrassed, as another tear coursed over Hana’s fingers. She moved her hand to his shoulder and lay her head on it, feeling him tremble beneath her contact.
“Can I still see you?” Her voice sounded heavy with sadness and disappointment. “And what about Phoenix? She adores you. Can she still see you?” Hana’s eyes filled with tears at the finality of the moment - and her own failure to redeem this lost young man.
Tama inhaled and sobbed at the same time. It took him by surprise and he failed to get control before the egocentric wall collapsed as rubble. His raw brokenness was exposed and terrified, he reached for Hana. Weeping obscured his words as Hana provided a lifeline for his grief, not for the first time. “Shhhh,” she soothed. Sobs shook his strong body, reducing it to that of a frightened child and Hana let her own tears mingle with his, stroking his back and feeling him sweat in anguish. His misery soaked her shoulder and collar.
When he was done, Tama lay limply over Hana, his arms wrapped around her body and his face pressed into her saturated hair. His body shook with the aftermath of his crying and his chest hitched sporadically, as his lungs fought to restore equilibrium. The air molecules seemed to ping with the sound of silence, until Hana heard the thud of tiny feet on floorboards next door. “You’re not going anywhere today.” Hana kissed the side of Tama’s head. “You can leave tomorrow when you feel better about things. Today, I’m keeping you close. I want quality time with my son.” She smoothed away the remaining wetness from his face as right on cue, Phoenix poked her fluffy head around the door frame. A sweet riser, she beamed and bounced across the room, dangling her soft toy by one hoof.
“Me do cuddles,” she sang, clambering roughly onto Tama’s knees and pushing herself up between the adults. Tama groaned as a bony knee crushed a delicate part of his anatomy and Phoenix looked up with mischief in her eyes. Her face clouded with pain as she saw the trail of tears on Tama’s cheek and with a tiny hand she reached up and touched it. “Oh. Why you sad?” she whispered, compassion and fear causing her own grey eyes to fill.
“He needs lots of cuddles today.” Hana knitted her embrace around both children. “We need to love him heaps.”
“I love ‘im heaps,” Phoenix’s sincerity was touching and Tama gulped.
“Well, let me get both of you breakfast and then I’ve got some things I need your bro’s help with.”
“K, nen.” Phoenix slid off Tama’s knees backwards with eagerness rooted in the word breakfast. She padded off to the kitchen, all bare feet and bulging night-nappy. Hana stroked Tama’s damp hair back from his head.
“Everything will be ok,” she promised with a kiss to his cheek.
Tama shook his head. “Try telling that to Lucy,” he sighed.
“Yeah, about that. She texted me. Apparently there’s been some huge mistake and she knows it wasn’t you at the nightclub. She’s been trying to contact you. That’s what I came in to say earlier when I saw the...”
“I know.” Tama ran his palm across his eyes. “I read her texts. I’ve been ignoring her calls too.”
“Maybe don’t make any decisions today,” Hana soothed. “It was her error in the first place, so it’s fine if you make her wait.”
Tama shook his head. “I don’t want to see her again. I need to put it... and her...and the other thing behind me.” He grimaced, possibly at some pornographic memory and Hana winced. Tama caught the fleeting expression and smirked. “You’ve led a very sheltered life, Ma.”
“Thank goodness!” she exclaimed. “I don’t think foursomes are really my style. Far too many pairs of eyes to hide my stretch marks from. I’ve only got two hands.”
Tama snorted, his familiar twinkle restored in the fathomless grey Du Rose eyes. “Do you think it’s possible to be forgiven for something...you really enjoyed?”
Hana frowned and pushed at the firm bicep under her hand. “Horrid boy! You can’t say sorry if you’re not. It’s false.”
“I’m sorry about the consequences,” Tama confessed. He smirked again and the lovable rogue was back. “But it was quite good fun...”
“La, la, la,” Hana put her fingers in her ears and stood up. “I don’t want to know.” She reached the door and then turned back. “But Tama, that kind of sex is quite disrespectful to women, sweetheart. Love isn’t meant to be like that. It’s what concerns me most about this. I know it’s probably what Kane encouraged, but it’s not right.”
Tama nodded slowly. “Yeah, it’s not my usual. To be honest, if anyone came off worse, it was me. They were vicious.” He rubbed at the site of one of the raised love bites and grimaced.
“Well just don’t end up like us,” Hana mused with sadness. “You don’t want to be happily married with a couple of nice kids and have some woman turn up at your door with a long-lost son or daughter.” Her eyes held a faraway look and Tama nodded.
“Message received, Ma.”