Du Rose Blaze

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

HackamoreEdin clutched Hana’s hand as they walked across the playground. An old skirt of Phoenix’s bumped the back of the child’s skinny calves as she pressed against Hana’s legs.

“School now?” Edin’s voice held an uncharacteristic waver as Hana bent to kiss both Phoenix and Wiri’s foreheads. The older boy pinked with embarrassment at the routine and brushed a hand across his skin as though wiping away the kiss.

“Yes, darling.” Hana forced a beam of enthusiasm onto her lips, making her eyes wide to hide her misgivings. “You’re five, aren’t you? They sent you an invitation to register through the post, remember?”

Three invitations, to be exact, each a month apart. Caroline had insisted Hana reject them all, citing Edin’s poor speech as a factor to keep her at home. Hana pursed her lips together as she waved to another mother. She’d confessed to Logan the previous afternoon how Caroline had demanded she home-school her daughter. Pity for Edin had fanned the flames with which Caroline had surrounded her. Logan’s intervention laid waste to the scheme. He’d obtained a visiting order for the prison and would break the news to Edin’s mother. He’d also phoned Tama’s station chief.

Hana held Edin’s hand as they stepped onto the porch of her new classroom. Children milled around outside, hanging lunch boxes and cardigans from named pegs. She searched for Edin’s name and sighed at the spelling. “This is yours,” she said, keeping her tone bright. “Let’s hang your lunch on here and find your teacher.” Edin cast a knowing gaze at her name and frowned. Doubt clouded her grey irises, and she blinked up at Hana.

“Isn’t.”

“We’ll get it changed,” Hana promised. “It’s warm today. You might not need to wear your cardigan.”

“Mrs Du Rose.” A tall woman with gentle blue eyes emerged from the classroom. She held out her hand to Hana. “I’ll introduce Edin to the class and then we’ll have a quick chat?” She framed the statement as a question and Hana winced, wishing she’d press ganged Logan into doing this part. The woman squatted down in front of Edin and addressed her at eye level. “It’s nice to meet you. We were very excited to learn you could join us. I’m Mrs Tomlin. Mac is usually in our class, and I’m sure he’ll look after you once he comes back next week.” She glanced up at Hana. “How is he?”

“Good,” Hana whispered. Guilt ravaged her heart as Edin’s fingers shook in hers. An inexplicable urge to cry pushed tears onto her lower eyelids and she turned aside and blew out a shallow breath to hide her emotion. She’d thrown the child to the wolves to save herself from insanity.

A frown lined Mrs Tomlin’s forehead, and she rose and offered her hand to Edin. “Angela is excited to meet you,” she whispered. “You can sit with her and Mrs Forrester, if you like?”

A low keening noise began in Edin’s chest, revving like a motor as she sensed her world tilting out of control. Hana saw the scenario unfold like it had many times in the last months.

“Could you draw me a horse?” Hana bent down to whisper in her ear. “I bet they have better art materials here. Draw the perfect horse for Uncle Logan to ride. He’s desperate for one of his own.”

“Horsey.” Edin bumped the knitted toy against her stomach, and his legs danced as though electrified. “Paint.” She gritted her teeth as she issued the command about the type of art she might consider.

“How did you know we were painting today?” Mrs Tomlin clapped her hands together and Edin studied her enthusiasm with interest. She called through the classroom door to her teaching assistant. “Mrs Forrester, we have another artist joining us.”

“Fantastic.” A round woman looked up from a child’s tiny chair. Her thighs spilled over its edges like muffins. Her expression didn’t match the word.

Anxiety set Hana’s tongue flapping and she couldn’t contain the burble of excuses which broke free. “I know we missed all the tester days last term, but somebody’s mother didn’t want her to come. I can’t manage her at home full time and my husband put his foot down yesterday.”

She clapped a hand over her mouth as Mrs Tomlin’s eyes widened and she raised a finger in warning. “Let’s get Edin fixed up with a painting overall, and Mrs Forrester can take the register while we chat.”

Hana swallowed as the teacher offered Edin her hand. The child stared at it and then into her face. Her irises glittered with a raft of emotions Hana couldn’t read. She held her breath and waited for the expected tantrum.

Edin’s head bobbed once, and she allowed Mrs Tomlin to take her hand. Horsey’s legs dangled almost to her knees as he bumped her thighs with his knitted hooves. They moved off and Hana stopped breathing, blood thudding through her eardrums as she froze in position.

It seemed a relief when Edin’s sandals ground to a halt on the floorboards of the classroom. Like a suicide bomber grateful for the finality of the dreaded moment of explosion, Hana watched as Mrs Tomlin jerked in surprise. The child whirled around and sped back to the porch.

“Tiss it.” She jabbed a slender finger at her forehead. “Tiss it now!”

The other children turned to watch as Edin rose on tiptoes and batted Hana’s thigh.

“Here you go.” Her voice wavered and her knees knocked together as she bent at the waist and pressed a kiss to Edin’s head. The girl’s eyelashes fluttered, and then she raised Horsey and swiped him over the spot. She smiled at Hana and jabbered something nonsensical.

Hana blew out a slow breath and forced her lips to curve upwards in response. Her hand lifted in a shaking, feckless wave. Edin had spent eighteen months observing Wiremu dodging Hana’s kisses and produced a version of her own. Mrs Tomlin retrieved her and put her under the care of the capable Mrs Forrester.

“Let’s stand away from the windows,” she advised, as she returned to Hana. She steered her off the porch and around the corner after closing the door behind her.

Hana floundered, not sure where to begin. “I’ll fill in the paperwork now,” she promised. “We have a copy of her birth certificate and the guardianship papers.” Her fingers fumbled with the zipper of her handbag as she tried to extract them.

Mrs Tomlin rested her hand over Hana’s and halted her action. “You can do that at the office. Someone from your family put her on the school’s waiting list last year, so you just need to complete the process.” She glanced over her shoulder as a reedy voice piped a reply to Mrs Forrester calling out their name. “Tell me whatever you can to help me today.”

Hana swallowed. “She doesn’t speak well. I took her to the doctor, but she wouldn’t allow her to examine her ears. She didn’t think the problem was auditory.”

Mrs Tomlin c****d her head. The toe of her practical right shoe scraped a pattern in the grit and she stared at it for a moment. “You mentioned her mother. Is this the woman in prison?” She raised a hand at Hana’s blink of surprise. “It’s a small town, Mrs Du Rose. I taught the Year 6 class last year, but the case hit the news media.”

“Yes.” Hana nodded. “Well, Caroline doesn’t think she’s ready for school. I drive Edin to the prison once a month to visit her. She loves seeing her mother but hates the environment, and her behaviour deteriorates for around ten days after each trip.”

“Thank you.” Mrs Tomlin turned to leave but glanced back at Hana. “Anything else?”

“Her lunch is on her peg. Logan primed Wiri and Phoenix to help if she gets distressed or can’t make herself understood.” Her lips moved and her chin wobbled of its own accord. “Obviously, if she gets hysterical, you can call me. We have an appointment at the prison, but we’re an hour away at most.” The verbal diarrhoea threatened again, and she bit her lip. The prison wasn’t the main reason for their trip. Her mind performed somersaults as it drifted to Tama.

Mrs Tomlin’s soles tapped against the porch steps and Hana tutted as she remembered another important fact. “Edin! She spells it with an ‘i’, not an ‘e’, as in Dunedin. It’s where she was born.”

“Not a problem.” Mrs Tomlin gave a wave and continued through the door to the classroom. Hana imagined her instructing a grumpy Mrs Forrester to assemble a bevy of new labels.

The school fell silent but for the gentle hum of low voices as the children settled into their rhythm. Hana imagined herself as a helium balloon released into the sky by careless fingers. Then guilt crashed into the vacant space, berating her for abandoning the defenseless child against her mother’s wishes. Concrete weights dragged at her feet as she turned towards the school office, her ears listening for the shrill tones of Edin’s condemning screams.