The New Du Rose Matriarch

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Hana used her card to access the rear gate. The barrier rose and she entered the school site with deliberate slowness. Boarders spilled over the private road. She pressed her foot to the brake as a group ran in front of her, their faces grimacing in panic as the bell tolled from the main building.

A wave of misery buried her beneath self-pity as she turned onto the narrow road between St Bart’s and the staff units. Joined in twos, they presented a picture of dereliction and filth. Hana pulled alongside the unit allocated to Logan and lowered the passenger window enough to hear Phoenix cry. She readied herself for a quick in and out visit. “Two minutes,” she promised, drawing in a fortifying. “I don’t plan to stick around long.”

The narrow access road forced Hana to park with centimetres to spare between her passenger wing mirror and the kitchen window. She grumbled as she squeezed her body around the truck and climbed the steps. A rusty key ground in the lock and she entered holding her breath. It looked just as she abandoned it, suitcases open on the dressing table. In the family’s absence, the musty smell had reoccupied the space, permeating the loose clothing and filling the rooms with its damp odour.

“Come on girl, get out of here,” Hana breathed, snatching up the bedding from Phoenix’s cot. It took minutes to clear up the dirty crockery and she watched her sleeping daughter through the window. A shiny brown cockroach darted from the cupboard as she opened it to put a plate inside and she screamed and abandoned the task. In the bedroom, she slammed the suitcases closed, grateful they’d avoided filling the rickety drawers and borer infested wardrobe. Negotiating the car’s wing mirror with her arms full, she shoved the load onto the back seat. Then she returned for more. She hefted the suitcase into the boot and slammed it closed.

Phoenix slept through the decamping process and Hana sighed with relief. She’d forgotten how hard life became with a car seat, child and related paraphernalia. Locking up the unit, she wrinkled her nose at the peeling paint on the front door and slipped around the vehicle. “Home,” she whispered. “Thank goodness.”

“Hana, wait!” She turned, her hand in the act of pulling on the driver’s door handle. The shout made her start and she jumped and let go. Not Caroline. The sports teacher called her name again and she paused and forced composure onto her face. “Hey, wait up.” Chris Carter jogged towards her and Hana stiffened. Caroline’s former lover wore a wide smile on his cocky face. “I wanted to speak to you.”

“I’m just leaving.” Hana worked hard to keep the barb from her voice. “I’m in a hurry.”

The man’s smile wavered and he eyed the belongings strewn across the back seat. “Oh. Didn’t you move in a few weeks ago? I hoped it might be a permanent thing.”

“Not to my knowledge.” Hana kept her response terse, showing little tolerance for a man who’d cheated on his pregnant wife. “A temporary arrangement.”

“How are things?” he asked and Hana’s brow knitted in confusion. Chris Carter made no secret of his dislike for Logan, especially after bedding his ex-fiancé.

“Fine thanks.” She nodded and grappled with the door handle, comforted by the warm metal beneath her fingers. Imminent escape beckoned.

“Hey, wait.” Carter’s tone became slippery as he placed a large hand over hers. “Are you coming back?” Good looking with striking blue eyes and a perfectly proportioned face, he used his assets to his advantage. His reputation preceded him and Hana sensed him trying to win her round. “It’s good to have neighbours.” He indicated the unit attached to hers before dropping his eyes to her lips. His fingers moved over Hana’s in a stroking motion and she withdrew her hand, acknowledging another reason to dig her heels in and refuse her return to the unit.

She shoved her hands behind her back and Carter’s gaze roved over her full breasts instead. A step back did nothing to discourage the twitch of his lips. He sighed and gave her a lascivious wink which turned Hana’s stomach. She felt old enough to be his grandmother. Carter continued the one-sided conversation and ignored Hana’s hungry glances towards the safety of her car. “Angus is renovating our unit at the same time as yours. Amanda’s living at her parents’ place with the baby and she’ll come back when this place is nicer. Then I’ll move back in.”

Hana noticed a thin line appear beneath his brows and heard the indecision in his voice. Perhaps Amanda had no intention of returning or allowing her errant husband back into her bed. She made no comment and an awkward silence filled the airwaves. Carter breathed out in a snuffing sound and leaned forward to stare into the car seat. He screwed his head sideways and bent his knees to see, bringing his face mere centimetres from Hana’s. “Your baby’s pretty, what’s her name?”

“Phoenix.” She took a step backwards, the door handle moving out of reach.

He nodded. “I remember it sounded unusual.” He waved his arm at the building behind them, encompassing both units. “Do you think they can make these any better?”

Hana held her breath as he took another step forward. Calculating and practiced, he had his overbearing seduction technique honed into a fine art. “I don’t know. They can’t make them any worse. Ours is horrid.” Another step back.

Carter nodded and rested his fingers on the roof of Hana’s car. “Yeah. Amanda got depressed living here with the baby.” He sniffed and wrinkled his nose, leaving out the other glaringly obvious cause. Adulterous husbands and their wives’ depression spent significant time holding hands. “She’ll love having someone else here with a baby.”

Hana nodded and smiled although it didn’t reach her eyes. Carter edged closer, putting a large hand on her left shoulder. She tried not to panic as he leaned in and lowered his voice. “Caroline’s looking for your husband. I wanted to warn you. She’s trouble.”

Hana held her breath, aware if she exhaled her breasts would touch his shirt. A cloud of cheap aftershave whirled around her head and she batted at his fingers. “I need to go,” she gasped. A sense of violation enveloped her, yet she sensed a recount of the moment would make her sound paranoid. Or egotistical. He’d done nothing and yet the whole incident felt inappropriate and dirty.

She heard Logan’s motorbike before she saw it. It roared into the narrow street from the soccer fields. Logan wore no helmet and his hair blew back from his forehead. She watched his grey eyes narrow and instant fury consume his expression.

“Oh, s**t!” Carter dropped his hands to his sides and panic sent him in the wrong direction. He stepped into Hana for protection, instead of having the sense to move away. Her right leg shot out behind her for balance and she gave him a hearty shove with both hands.

Logan’s bike gave a meaty roar and he drove straight at them. Carter struggled to keep his footing as he dived sideways, his hands grappling in mid-air. Hana seized hold of the car’s wing mirror and held on as Logan threw himself sideways, catching Carter by the throat before his bike hit the ground. In seconds, he had the younger man shoved up against the wall of St Bart’s, Carter’s trainers dangling off the ground. The expensive motorbike lay on its side rumbling to itself, protesting as black smoke funnelled from the exhaust.

“What are you playing at?” Logan shouted into Carter’s face. His opponent didn’t answer, his eyes bugging and his cheeks turning a hideous shade of red.

Hana collapsed into the driver’s seat of the Honda and covered her eyes with her hands. Chris Carter’s shiny white trainers dangled in her peripheral vision. Logan glanced back at her as she banged her head against the steering wheel, causing the horn to let out a series of frustrated beeps. He dropped Carter to the ground and snarled into his face. “You touch my wife again and I’ll snap every one of your greasy fingers off! Consider yourself warned!” His irises flashed slate grey, obscured by black pupils fuelled by anger. Carter picked himself up and his fingers coasted over his throat as though checking everything still worked.

Muscles bulging, Logan hauled his bike upright. A long scratch marked the paintwork and his fury hiked further. Yanking it onto its stand, he shook his head at the gouge and shot a look containing daggers at Carter. “Bugger off!” he snapped, pointing towards the main building in the distance. “Do some work for a change!” Livid anger fizzed the air surrounding him.

He strode across to Hana and squatted next to the car. “You all right?” he demanded.

She nodded with deliberate slowness, her pulse rate fighting for equilibrium. “You didn’t have to do that!”

Hurt infused Logan’s face. “Oh.” His fringe hung over his right eye. “You liked him coming onto you?”

“I was handling it,” Hana lied. “It’s all an act. I’m old enough to be his granny.”

Logan snorted. “You weren’t and you aren’t. His kind don’t understand the word no, Hana. If he touches you again, I’ll kill him.”

Hana sighed. “I don’t think he’ll ever speak to me again.” She ran a hand over her face. “Which is probably a blessing.” She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose between finger and thumb. “You’re right. I didn’t handle it well. He took me by surprise but I would’ve got there without you beating him up and getting yourself fired.” Her lips quirked upwards at the unbidden bright spot. “Mind you, getting fired might also be a blessing in disguise.” She swallowed and her mind flicked back to the sense of subtle violation. “Thank you.”

“For what?” Logan reached out a hand and lay it over her thigh. His thumb coasted over her skin and brought relief. Hana felt her leg shake and admitted to herself that Carter had freaked her out more than she realised.

“I’m glad you arrived when you did.”

Logan nodded and glanced towards the field. Carter jogged away in the distance, one hand still rubbing his throat. “Yeah?” He sounded both relieved and doubtful.

“He said Caroline wanted to see you. Said he was warning me.” Hana’s lower lip wobbled. “She’s everywhere, Logan. I can’t get rid of her.”

“No, she isn’t.” Logan pulled her writhing fingers up to his lips and kissed them. “She wanted to ask if she could stay in the motel, I said no and she left. Trust me, she’s gone.”

Hana gave a slight shake of her head. “I think she’s been spying on me,” she whispered, looking around at the empty street. “But perhaps I’ve imagined it. I don’t feel spooked right now.”

“Spying on you?” Logan’s eyes narrowed and his tone sounded sharp. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Hana brushed away her unfounded paranoia. “I’m just jumpy. I’ll feel better at Culver’s Cottage.” She turned and peeked at the baby in the car seat next to her. Phoenix still slumbered, having missed her father assaulting a colleague. “You’ll be in trouble if someone reports you to Angus. An accusation of physical assault could end your career.”

Logan snorted. “Don’t care. I defended my wife against the local lothario. That guy’s got one foot out the door anyway for exactly that kind of behaviour.” He rose and leaned against the Honda, resting his left arm along the roof. He looked sorry for himself with the anger dissipated. His fingers picked at a flake of rust on the roof trim and Hana sensed herself melting with compassion. She clambered from the driver’s seat and pressed her cheek against his chest, feeling him exhale with relief as she slipped her arms around his waist. He kissed the top of her head and she felt one of his shirt buttons dig into her nose. “Hana?” His voice sounded gentle but alarm bells went off in Hana’s head. “Babe, we need to talk.”

She grimaced and stamped her foot in a childish reaction. “I don’t want to move back here.” She pressed her face into his shirt and inhaled his scent. He smelled delicious and she let her fingers rove until they slipped into the waistband of his trousers.

Logan laughed and pulled her hands in front of him, clasping her wrists in his fingers. “Loving the distraction technique, Mrs Du Rose, but I don’t have time. Besides, we need to face some things coming up. Like the court case.”

Hana put her fingers in her ears and refused to listen. The court case loomed ahead in her vision, presenting logistical nightmares she couldn’t filter out. “I can’t think about it now, Logan,” she protested. “Please, one thing at a time.”

Logan pulled her hands away. “I know this is hard, Hana. He hounded you for more than a year and tried to kill me. The cops need to make sure he stays in prison.” He massaged her hands with tender strokes and leaned in to kiss her neck. “Babe, we need to get stuff straight. I want to talk about how we manage the baby while we’re both in court. There are things going on at the hotel I need to tell you about and then this crap with the boarding house. I need to decide if it’s worth the effort to help Angus out. There’s also something else.”

Hana opened her mouth to speak, Logan’s final sentence creating intrigue. But the arrival of a white van halted further talk. It parked behind the Honda and three men piled out. Logan stiffened and moved to block Hana. His reaction caused fear to bud in her chest. The men wore white overalls covered in splatters of different coloured paint. They formed a rough line in front of the unit. One scratched his head while his companion scratched his groin. The third spun on the spot as though surprised at his location. “Is this the place we’re renovating?” He pointed at the front door behind Hana’s car and she saw the tension leave Logan’s spine.

“Yeah, these two.” Logan dug into his trouser pocket and hauled out a key. “Hand this back to the receptionist when you’re done. She’ll have a spare key for this one.” He jerked his head towards Carter’s unit. Glancing back at Hana, he gave a reassuring smile. “You should move the car,” he said. He straddled his bike and revved the engine, satisfied at the puff of cleaner exhaust it spat out. “Just oil,” he said, answering Hana’s unasked question. “From lying on its side.”

“We can talk tonight,” she promised.

Logan smiled and his grey eyes glittered as he registered her reluctance. He leaned sideways to kiss her temple. “For sure,” he replied. “You can’t keep running.”

“Says you!” Hana snorted. She drove along Maui Street to the rest home where Father Sinbad had lived for the last fifteen years. Blind and no longer able to leave the complex, he loved Hana’s visits. She sat on his bed and fed Phoenix while voicing her fears about the looming court case. The old man slumped in his wheelchair, lifting his face to draw comfort from the early rays of sunshine.

“Do ye have a date yet me darlin’?” he asked in his thick, Irish brogue.

Hana shook her head, remembering at the last moment he couldn’t see her. “No, not yet. But it can’t be too far off. Laval’s on remand, but very unwell so he needs to be declared fit enough to stand trial. The cops caught two of his newer guys but they pleaded guilty. Logan says Flick’s still hiding up at the hotel.” She sighed. “I have this feeling I’ve missed something important.”

The Catholic priest put his head back against the headrest of his wheelchair and smiled, the sunshine warming his lined face. “What does yer man, Bodie think?” he asked. “He’ll have the police view of things, won’t he?”

Hana sighed. “I never know what my son’s thinking, Father. You should know that. The prosecution will call him as a witness, so he’s careful not to discuss the case with me. Besides, it’s just a feeling and I don’t want to keep going over it all before I need to.”

“Remind me who Flick is again?” Father Sinbad asked. Crinkled fingers tapped out a tune on the arm of his wheelchair.

“Laval killed his stepmother. So Flick infiltrated Laval’s organisation and came after me, believing I had the deeds to her property. Logan offered him a lifeline after hearing his story and hid him on the mountain.”

“How do you feel about that?”

Hana exhaled and Phoenix stopped feeding and stared at her. “I’m not happy. Flick hurt me and I’m afraid of him.”

“Does yer husband know this?” Sinbad turned his head in Hana’s direction, waiting for her reply. His blind eyes flicked from side to side.

“Yes. But Flick’s proved loyal so far. I guess I need to get used to it. Logan seems to know what he’s doing. He wants to talk about the court case and I’m avoiding it.” She sat the baby upright to wind her, patting her fragile back and holding up her tiny head as it wobbled against her palm. “I think someone’s watching me, Father.”

The old man’s brow crinkled. “Why? What’s happened?”

Hana sighed. “Nothing. That’s the trouble. I have no evidence other than a spooky feeling.” She shivered and smiled as Phoenix gave a dignified burp.

“You must tell dat handsome husband of yourn,” Father Sinbad said, his tone urgent. “Talk to him.”

Hana swallowed and considered her new method of avoiding discussion. “We don’t do much talking when we’re alone.” She smirked and the conversation trailed off.

Sinbad gave a sharp laugh. “I spent enough years on de other side of da confessional to know what dat silence means.”

Hana gave a haughty sniff. “You have a filthy mind, Father.”

Phoenix produced another burp. This one might have induced a cheer from a more uncouth audience. Hana pulled a face at her daughter who returned a beatific smile in reply. “Piggy.” She patted her back. “What should I do, Father?”

“Stop patting her back and she won’t burp,” he replied, his lips quirked upwards. “Or are you referring to your distraction technique? Being a priest, I can’t help you wit dat kind of information.”

Hana rolled her eyes. “I meant about the feeling someone’s watching me. Should I set a trap?”

Sinbad sighed. “No, Hana. Don’t do dat! Ask Logan to put de word out amongst his underworld friends. They’ll know.”

“No!” Hana recoiled and Phoenix jumped. “He isn’t in contact with the Triads anymore. It’s all behind him. Everything’s open and above board. He promised.” Hana chewed her lip and worried. “But he did say he wanted to talk about something else.”

Sinbad nodded. “Well den, let’s ask our Holy Father in Heaven to intervene. Surely he knows de whys and wherefores of dis whole situation. He loves ye Hana and he’ll keep ye and your wee one safe.”

Hana closed her eyes and laid her head back, allowing the gentle prayers of the intercessor to wash over her. When he lapsed into Latin, the lyrical cadence of his words brought reassurance.

An hour passed before Hana realised it. The Father had been silent for some time and she lay with her head against the pillows, enjoying the tick of the wall clock and the welcome sense of divine weightlessness. “Please let everything be okay,” she whispered. “Please.”