Du Rose Legacy

Chapter 4-1

Chapter 4

Hana sat at the kitchen table and squirmed with discomfort at the itch beneath her cast. Using her left hand, she pushed Maihi’s perfect beef and vegetables around the plate. Logan grabbed himself a second portion and sat next to her, running a hand across her shoulder. “I think we should move in with Maihi,” he suggested, scooping potato into his mouth. “Or dig a tunnel to her kitchen and use it at meal times.” Hana’s chin wobbled and he knitted his brow and laid his cutlery across his plate. “Joke,” he whispered. “Everything will be okay, babe.”

“You don’t know that.” Hana used her sleeve to wipe her damp eyes and gave an unladylike sniff. “You’re guessing.”

She stood and took her plate to the dishwasher, dropping the knife on the floorboards half way across. Retrieving it distracted her and lessened the impact of Logan’s watchful gaze. A teaspoon plunged onto the floor of the machine and she leaned in, trying to pick it up without removing the trays. She failed and almost fell in trying to grab it. Strong fingers closed around her waist. “Geez, Hana! Be careful!” Logan hauled her upright and she made a desperate grab, snatching the handle at the last moment. Exasperated, she threw it into the cutlery tray head first.

“I’m fine, Logan, really.” She shrugged herself free and backed towards the counter.

Logan made a pot of tea, got the cups and spoons together and nudged Hana towards the table. “Liza’s amazing,” he commented. His lips curved upwards in a grin. “Odering is terrified of her. She told him his evidence is circumstantial. The blood on my jacket and hands came from trying to help Boris and I could account for how I got it.”

“Liza said Boris regained consciousness as she left last night. He could tell them you didn’t hurt him.”

Logan sighed into his mug and looked sideways at Hana. “Thanks.” He reached for her hand as her face creased in confusion. “You haven’t once doubted me. You know I didn’t do it and I’m grateful for your faith in me.” He shook his head with sadness in his grey eyes. “Boris refused to clear me or implicate anyone else. He’s keeping quiet.”

“Can’t he remember?” Hana stirred milk into her tea and watched her husband shrug. The slight action filled her heart with foreboding.

“I think Boris remembers perfectly well what kind of trouble he’s in.” His tone sounded jaded.

Hana pressed her fingers to her lips. “No, he wouldn’t do that to you. You’re friends.”

Logan shook his head. “Not anymore, Hana. Odering charged me with wounding with intent and I’m on police bail. Boris could clear me with a single word, but won’t. Liza says they will drop the charges but until then I must check in with the cops at the station every day.”

Hana’s face paled. “So Angus will suspend you then?”

Logan nodded in misery. “He won’t have a choice. My teaching career’s over, you know that?”

Maihi’s lovely roast turned to ash in Hana’s stomach as sickness and fear fought for dominance. “Odering must know you didn’t do it, Logan,” she pleaded, her eyes growing glossy with tears.

“Yeah, he does. But I’m a handy body at the moment. He’s not playing by the rules and will use me to catch Laval.”

“He thinks the blonde man bashed Boris?” Hana rubbed her eyes and pushed her mug away.

“I dunno.” Logan sighed. “He knows I didn’t, but he wants them to get cocky and make a mistake. He’s desperate and his career is riding on it.”

“So, you’re a sacrifice?” Hana’s eyes widened as she processed the appalling truth.

“Yep.” Logan stood and pushed his chair in, offering his hand. “Come on. I’m beat. How about an early night?”

She nodded and accepted his outstretched fingers, hauling herself upright and allowing him to pull her into his chest. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “All this started before we met. It’s my problem and now it’s ruined your life too.”

Logan tutted and kissed the top of her head. “It’s not that simple,” he sighed. His lips curved upwards in a tired smile and his eyes crinkled at the corners. “Anyway, your problems are mine. Remember?”

The house felt safe and cosy, but outside the oppressive darkness contained a sense of threat. Hana slept in a series of fitful dozes, her dreams filled with jail cells and the clang of metal doors. Logan shifted around in his sleep, his mind still running scenarios and solutions on a futile loop. When he woke in the early hours, he lay and listened to Hana’s steady breathing and placed a gentle hand over her stomach. His child kicked him and he allowed a smile to play across his lips. The tiny form bore the weight of his hopes and dreams for the future and it pained him. Closing his eyes, he prayed to Hana’s God for justice, vindication and peace. When the alarm disturbed him at six o’clock, he sensed the shift which told him somebody heard.

Hana sat up and rubbed her eyes, her hair standing out from her head like a halo. She yawned and stretched. “Did you get any sleep? I don’t think I did.”

“Yeah, you got a few hours.” Logan turned onto his back and rested his head on his arms.

Hana wrinkled her nose. “That means you didn’t.”

“I’m okay.” Logan smiled and jerked his head towards the door. “You grab the first shower and I’ll boil the kettle for tea.”

A blip in the power gave Hana a douse of cold water half way through her shower and she screamed in shock and irritation. The morning went downhill from there. She poked mascara into her right eye and tore a hole in her tights, the blonde man’s influence stretching over her life further through her broken arm.

“I’ll drive,” Logan said with a tight smile, snatching up the car keys. “I’d like to get there alive.” He frowned and pursed his lips as the awkward meeting with Angus loomed before him.

“It might not go the way you think,” Hana soothed, reaching out to stroke his sleeve. “Angus isn’t stupid.” Hana followed him to the front door, carrying the envelope she’d found in the post box. Her left handed writing looked childish and she flapped it in front of her.

“What’s that?” Logan asked, holding out his hand.

“Someone keeps writing to CircleLine Holdings Ltd.” Hana placed the envelope into his palm and bent to grab her handbag.

Logan’s eyebrows narrowed as he peered at her scrawl. “Not known at this address,” he repeated. “How many have you sent back?”

“That’s number four.” Hana yanked a pair of gloves from her bag and stared at the right one. Shaking her head, she stuffed her left hand in and put the other one back. “Five. No, four. I don’t know. They started last month. They’re annoying me because it’s hard to write now.”

“I’ll deal with it.” Logan pushed it into his jacket pocket and gave her a tight smile. “Give them to me from now on.”

“We shouldn’t get any more,” Hana protested. “I need to find out where they’re based and ring them.”

“I said I’ll deal with it.”

Hana blanched at Logan’s tone and dropped the matter.

Logan put the car into gear and drove down the slope, avoiding conversation throughout the journey. Hana fidgeted, sensing his unease and unable to help. “Would you like me to come to your meeting with Angus?” she asked.

Logan shook his head. “No, thanks.”

“I don’t mind.” Her gloved fingers danced in agitation across her knees.

“I’m good. Thanks.”

Hana’s lips parted in surprise as Logan drove straight to work. He didn’t deviate their journey in case Laval’s men sought them, but used the expressway and entered through the front gates. She bit her lip and said nothing, suspecting he desired to hasten a confrontation with the blonde man. A student teacher fought him for Hana’s parking space and he claimed it at the last second. She slammed her door and stormed towards them, leaving her engine idling. Staff cars piled up behind her steaming exhaust. “I’ve parked there all term!” she raged. “That’s my space.”

Logan ground his teeth and Hana held her breath. “Don’t, Logan,” she begged. “Don’t make it worse.” She managed to exit the car before him and headed the young woman away from the driver’s door.

“It’s my space,” she asserted. “I’ve parked here for the last fifteen years.” She held her hand up as the girl opened her mouth again. “Find somewhere else.”

“But I like that space.” The girl pouted and blonde hair whirled around her head in the breeze.

“So do I.” Hana turned and met Logan at the driver’s door, herding him towards the chapel. The honk of a horn sent the girl running back to her vehicle.

“What did you think I’d do?” Logan hissed under his breath. “Bash her too?”

“Logan!” Hana stopped dead and her face drooped in misery. “Stop!”

“Sorry.” He shook his head and blinked a few times. “I’m wound up, Hana.”

“I know.” She reached for his arm and walked next to him, her handbag swinging between them. “And no, I didn’t think you’d bash her. Your glare would melt her first.”

Logan snorted and stepped back to hold the front door open. Two boys emerged at speed, treating Logan as a doorman. They pushed past Hana and almost knocked her flying backwards down the stairs. Hands in their pockets and heavy rucksacks on their backs, they kept walking without concern. Logan lurched, hauling them back by their bag handles. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” he snapped.

Hana steadied herself against the wall as Logan turned the boys to face her. Colour drained from their complexions and they stammered apologies like fools. “Get back in there!” He shoved them towards the doorway and then let go as they stumbled up the step, falling over each other. He indicated Hana with a jerk of his head, grey eyes glowering as though on fire.

“Sorry,” they chorused in unison, seeing her tiny baby bump and widening their eyes. Logan backed them up and then turned holding his hand out for Hana

“Here you go,” he said, his brow creased in anger. Hana saw him grapple with his emotions as she stepped through the doorway and watched him meet the gaze of the nearest terrified boy. “That was wrong on too many levels to count,” he said, his tone acidic. “That’s not how you should behave. Ever!” His jaw flexed and released as the boys apologised again. “Get to registration.” Logan stood rigid as they bolted for the door. He pulled Hana clear of the opening and she felt his fingers trembling against hers.

“I’m fine,” Hana whispered. “The baby’s fine.”

“Yeah, but how many more near misses can we dodge?” he demanded, his voice icy. He sighed. “I can’t leave town, Hana. But you can. I need you to go to the hotel. I’ll get one of the guys to drive down and fetch you.”

“No.” She exhaled and her breath caught in her chest as Logan let go of her hand. With a rigid back, he strode towards Angus’ office. The principal leaned in his doorway stifling a smirk. Hana read his lips as she saw him lean in towards her husband. “That’s my boy,” he muttered under his breath. “Twenty seven years and I still can’t help but like you, Logan Du Rose.”

“Whatever!” she heard Logan reply as they disappeared into the office and the door closed behind them.

Angus slid into his chair and watched the sky brighten through the slender window. Logan remained standing, his jaw working as he fidgeted. “Sit.” Angus pointed to the chair opposite and Logan shook his head.

“No need. I quit.”

Angus snorted. “And I refuse to accept your resignation.” He leaned back in his chair and shivered. The fireplace burned with a fierceness which mirrored his assistant’s lighting of it. He imagined her cursing as she lit the newspaper. “b****y room,” Angus shivered. “Worse designed room in the whole site and it’s mine.”

“I’m sure you’re used to it.” Logan took a step forward and held out his hand to Angus. “Thanks for everything.”

Angus stared down at the calloused palm and the myriad scars. He shook his head. “Take a leave of absence. Go somewhere safe with Hana. Think of your child and come back when you can.”