Du Rose Vendetta

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Sand HousesAfter another day of floppy flax baskets and a table runner which Will scoffed at, Hana felt ready to quit raranga for life. Logan was pressing her for an answer about the developers’ offer and she couldn’t decide without thinking of Jack and the ease with which he’d wanted to destroy her. The school run gave her time to regroup and she lifted Mac from his car seat outside the school gates after picking him up from the nursery. He patted her cheek to get her attention and made his sign for Phoenix; a butterfly motion with his fingers which suited his sister’s sunny nature and perpetual motion. Hana shook her head. “No, baby. She’s going to play at a friend’s house tonight. We’ll get Wiri now and then fetch Phoe later.” Mac c****d his head and jabbed a finger at the school building behind the imposing fence. Hana set him down on the ground and signed her sentence instead. Mac’s eyes flickered with understanding and then his nose wrinkled as though he knew something Hana didn’t.

“Hey, how are you?” A clatter of high heels preceded the question and Hana whipped around, rewarded by a waft of strong hair spray.

“Fine, thanks.” She pursed her lips to avoid further intoxication. There seemed no point repeating the greeting as the woman’s question appeared rhetorical. Hana sensed if she dived into a litany of her most pressing issues, the newcomer would find someone else to talk to.

“Is Phoebe still coming round to play?” Manicured fingernails pushed an imaginary strand of glossy blonde hair away from decorated lips full enough to float a lifeboat.

“Phoenix.” Hana gripped Mac’s fingers with one hand and pushed the other deep into her jeans pocket to stop the woman seeing her ratty nails. “Yes, please.”

“Such a dear little name. Jordan’s quite taken with her. It’s difficult moving into a new town, isn’t it?” The woman dragged her feet and the sharp heels ground against the concrete pavement. “The friendship groups are a mine field filled with drama.”

“Yes.” Hana forced herself to adopt a more sympathetic guise. She’d spent time in the company of loneliness and the black cloud of depression. With an effort of will, she pushed the knotty issue of JD’s paddock into the locked box in her mind and plastered a smile onto her face. “How are you settling?” she asked. “It’s a small town but growing. You’ll find your spot.” Her mouth worked as her brain tried to dredge up the woman’s name. They’d exchanged pleasantries a few times since the start of term and phone numbers when they arranged the play date. Hana contemplated dragging her phone from her back pocket and scrolling through for a clue, but didn’t want to appear rude. She’d asked around and found out a little about the family before agreeing. Phoenix seemed keen to go. “I’ll pick her up at six. You live in the new subdivision behind the school playing field, don’t you?” The woman nodded and her full lips parted in answer.

“Gina!” A sing-song voice echoed off the building and more heels clattered towards them. Hana cringed at the sight of another new mother, not liking her but grateful for her provision of Gina’s name.

“Hi, Louise.” Gina’s face brightened and her lips parted in a smile wide enough to reveal a diamond glittering on her left front tooth. The women oozed money in the kind of superficial, glitzy way Logan despised. Hana enjoyed the fleeting thought that he could probably buy and sell both their assets before breakfast without making a dent in his sizable fortune. And he’d do it in dusty cowboy boots with hay in his hair and dirt under his fingernails. She sobered at the reminder of their earlier dispute. JD’s influence stretched its destructive fingers over her heart and she resisted, forcing herself back into the moment.

“Hi.” Hana stood her ground in the tsunami of perfume washing over her. The women’s mingled scents seemed to create a cloud which engulfed them in an untouchable bubble. Standing taller in their stilettos, they dwarfed Hana and Mac, gathering in a circle which excluded the other adults arriving to retrieve their children. Louise observed Hana with an expression like a slapped backside. Gina appeared impervious as she babbled about the weather and Auckland traffic.

“I don’t miss it.” She wrinkled a neat nose almost too perfect in its proportions. “I wanted my roots touching up again and couldn’t leave it much longer.”

Louise snorted. “I wouldn’t trust my roots to the local salon. Anyone getting work done there wants their head testing. Talk about a leap back in time, you’ll walk out looking like an escapee from the nineties.”

Hana pursed her lips and held her breath. Betty had cut her hair the previous week, thinning out the fluffier layers and neatening the ends. She resisted raising a hand in self-conscious appraisal. Logan had told her it looked sexy as he ran his fingers through it and nibbled her neck. He didn’t lie when she asked him if things looked okay. But then he’d seemed more distant lately. Hana opened her mouth to defend Betty’s hairdressing skills and Louise interjected again. “My husband expects me to travel into the city. It’s part of the deal with moving out to this hick town. He promised me the perks of Auckland if I came with him.”

Gina’s face took on a peculiar, tight expression and Hana watched her cheeks flush. She glanced sideways at Hana and then widened her eyes at Louise, as though issuing a silent plea for the other woman to stop disrespecting the locals. Despite herself, Hana’s hand strayed to her hair and she tucked a stray curl behind her ear. Mac studied her with interest as though he understood the scene on a much deeper level, his deafness enhancing his other senses and giving him a unique perspective.

Spotting someone else she wanted to speak to, Louise gave a regal wave and clacked across the pavement towards her next victim. Gina pursed her lips. “Sorry. She’s not as bad as she seems. Just tactless.” The jewel flashed on her front tooth again.

“You knew her before you moved here?” Hana relaxed, stroking her son’s auburn hair as his keen eyes studied a flitting butterfly.

“Yes.” Gina blew out a breath. “My husband and her ex work together.”

“Hi girls.” An arm slid around Hana’s shoulders and she felt the tension ebb from her body. Libby’s voice held a soothing quality which brought peace. She gave Hana a sideways hug before releasing her. Gina flashed her diamond smile in response and Libby showed no sign of being either impressed or disinterested. Her face remained schooled into its impassive guise, a serene smile fixed on her lips.

“Hey.” Hana glanced down at the neat body encased in Yoga gear and nodded. “How was your class?”

“Great.” Libby clasped her hands in front of her and arched her spine into a gentle curve. She released it with a sigh of satisfaction, not a spare gram of fat anywhere to be seen. Tossing her long blonde ponytail, she grinned at Hana. “You should come.”

Hana looked down at her dusty boots and the flax stains on her jeans. “Will’s keeping me a prisoner in the museum. The stock men have built a fake town based on original drawings from the first Du Rose settlers and they’re creating a Māori pa next to it. Will’s responsible for designing the buildings and he’s gone overboard with the number of baskets he wants.” Hana sighed at the memory of the growing pile of weaving stacked in the corner of the museum. “That’s not forgetting woven place mats, woven rugs, woven wall hangings and woven bunches of flax roses. He’s using old documents to find out what they used. He’s in his element, but I’m currently his slave.”

Libby laughed and Gina gave them both an odd look. Hana identified it as a frown in the seconds which followed, but Botox had rendered the woman’s forehead immobile. “How’s it going?” Libby asked. “I’d always liked the idea of flax weaving but never got the opportunity.”

Hana snorted. “Please feel free to pitch in anytime. I think Will’s sick of my wonky attempts. He says I’m reducing his cultural heritage to dust.”

Gina’s eyes narrowed. “Oh, do you own that hotel in the mountains?” She lowered her voice and confusion crept into her tone, though her wooden features remained blank like the mask of a doll.

“Yes.” Dread snaked through Hana’s heart though she couldn’t identify the source. She tried so hard to fit into the local scene and feel included in the thriving community. The label of Mrs Du Rose possessed the ability to segregate her from their warmth like a bucket of cold water. She swallowed. “But we don’t live at the hotel anymore. My husband built a house higher up the mountain.” She glanced sideways at Libby but received only an encouraging smile. Wisdom told her to stay out of it and not muddy their friendship with Hana’s latest round of self-defeatist thinking.

“Ohhh.” Gina drew the sound out before taking a step closer to Hana. She invaded her personal space until the urge to take a step backwards became overwhelming. Hana glanced down to find her son staring at her, looking for her reaction so he’d know what to think. Gina lowered her voice. “I didn’t realise you lived there. Louise insisted I get the girls together. We planned to have a play date at her place, but her ex-husband’s knocking a wall out to build a conservatory.”

“Girls?” Hana held her breath and dreaded the answer.

Gina’s head bobbed like a nodding doll. “Yes. Phoebe, Jordan and Holly.”

“Phoenix.” Hana made the correction while her brain scrambled for answers. Her heart sank. Libby gave her a look of sympathy and squeezed her arm above the elbow, offering physical comfort without getting involved. Holly had split Phoenix’s lip on the first day of term over ownership of a crayon. It had been smoothed over as an accident but subsequent verbal and physical digs left Hana concerned enough to visit the teacher. The investigation was allegedly still ongoing.

Libby released Hana’s arm as a little boy cannoned into her stomach. She cupped his cheeks in her hands and leaned down to kiss his hair. “Good day, sweetie?” she asked. He nodded up at her, sparkling blue eyes showing his pleasure at finding her waiting in the usual spot.

“Hey, Darren.” Hana gave him a wave before scanning the crowd for her own children. She spied Wiri’s dark head bobbing through the throng towards her. He cut through like a silent juggernaut, a couple of smaller boys swimming free in his wake. “Phoe’s coming,” he announced as he reached her. He stood on tiptoes and pursed his lips for a kiss, unashamed of his need for emotional affirmation from his chosen mother figure, even in public. He’d learned from Logan not to care about what other people thought. Hana envied them their determined oblivion. Gina glanced sideways at Wiri’s greeting with Mac. The older boy ruffled the ginger curls and slipped an arm around Mac’s slender shoulders. They shared a brief second of connection that said more than words.

Chaos interrupted the sweetness in the shape of two girls from Phoenix’s class. Sassy and filled with indignation, they barrelled towards Gina with library bags flowing and scowls already set on their faces. Gina dipped at the waist and pursed her lips ready for Jordan’s arrival. The lanky, dark-haired girl ignored her maternal overtures. “She’s not coming,” she stated. She placed one hand on her hip as though preparing to perform a complicated ballet move, the other clasped the fingers of the blonde girl she’d towed behind her. “Holly’s coming by herself.”

“Oh.” Gina swallowed and glanced towards Hana. “We thought Phoebe wanted to play at our house.”

Hana’s brow furrowed and she corrected the expression after looking at Gina’s smooth forehead. Already older than most of the other mothers, she blinked away the momentary fear that she’d be mistaken as someone’s granny. The thought offered no comfort. She was a granny. Jas and Hope’s granny. A growl of frustration escaped her throat and she narrowed her eyes at Wiri. “Did you see Phoe today, Wiri? What’s going on?”

Wiri gave her a sage look filled with unspoken wisdom. He c****d his head to one side and raised his left eyebrow in reprimand, as though wondering why Hana would ask such a question. He jerked his head towards the blonde girl behind Jordan and Hana’s heart sank. She scanned the swirling mass of bodies and saw her daughter stalking towards her with a face like thunder. Her grey eyes had changed to the colour of slate and she channelled latent fury. When she spotted Jordan and Holly, she gripped her stomach with her free hand in a display of academy award acting.

“She’s got a belly-ache.” Wiri backed up the ruse which told Hana he knew of Holly’s gate crashing of Phoenix and Jordan’s play date. She suspected they’d got together during the day and discussed it, despite Wiri’s love of soccer during his lunch break.

Hana disliked the lie but had grown to dislike Holly more. She decided to speak to the teacher again about the low key bullying. Her daughter folded into Mac and Wiri’s tight embrace without breaking step. Hana sighed and dredged up a sincere smile for Gina. “I’m sorry. She can come another time. There’s a bug going around and you wouldn’t want to catch it.”

Gina’s eyes widened at the veiled suggestion of vomiting and diarrhoea and accepted Hana’s apology with haste. “It’s fine,” she urged, patting the top of Phoenix’s head as the child nestled into Wiri’s chest. “Another time, Phoebe. Hope you get better soon.” She turned on her heel and strode towards Louise and a static group of other women wearing designer clothing.

Libby raised an eyebrow at Hana and she shrugged in return and shook her head. Holly spun around to follow Gina, but Jordan made doe eyes at Wiri and fluttered her lashes. “Hi Wiremu,” she said. Her cheeks flushed pink as his grey-eyed gaze settled on her face.

“Hi.” His tone sounded flat and disinterested. Phoenix peered sideways and Hana watched her jaw flex. Her daughter’s eyes narrowed and she gave a low snort of disgust, enough like a snarl to act as a warning. Tiny fingers gripped Wiri’s polo shirt until she’d tugged it askew and when his arm tightened around her shoulders, a look of predatory victory turned her eyes into gleaming dark coals. Hana gulped, recognising the sight of pure Du Rose possession when she saw it. Phoenix mirrored her father’s tight rein on the things he held dear and it prophesied impending doom heavier than any of them could bear.

Hana let out a breath of exasperation, waved to Libby and walked the children across the busy road to the truck. “We need to talk,” she said to Phoenix in a low voice as she leaned across her to belt Mac into his car seat.

“Thought you might say that,” Phoenix murmured.