Marama asks a lot of questions, too: what does she think of Joe? what does she think of Himi? What does she think of solo parents? What does she think of Whangaroa? It is always Himi she comes back to. The child is ever Haimona/Himi here, never Simon or Sim. She tells anecdote after story after joke about him and his father. But it is gentle humour, as the inquisition of herself is gentle, and they offer a lot of information about themselves while they question.
They show her over the farm. They hold one another often, two old people sick in body and sound in mind, still eager for life, still eager to share it. When she leaves, they hongi, then hug her in farewell.
"Come back soon!" calls Marama, waving goodbye behind the gate.
"I will too!" she calls back, "very soon!"
She means it. It's been a delightful time.
It's only in the dark of the Tower that she realises they never told her anything about Joe and Simon she didn't really already know.
On Wednesday, Joe rang at midday.
"Hello, guess who's got the afternoon off?"
"You, by the sound of it."
"Right! The stupid machine I push levers on has broken itself, thank God. While they fix it, they said to clear off and enjoy myself on the company's time. I didn't need to be told twice."
"Understandable… what do you want to do? Go fishing or something?"
"Well I thought, since Haimona's at school for once, if you're maybe free?"
"I am." Mooning over old and beautiful sketches she had done two years ago was only being involved in sour reminiscence.
"E ka pai… well, I thought you might like a drink at the pub. Not like last time," he says hastily, "hell, was I ever sorry about that… I was almost glad Himi was hurt, because it meant I didn't have to stay round too long."
"I'm an ogre?" she asks incredulously.
"O no," he sounds shocked. "What I meant was that I had behaved badly, and you knew it, and I knew it, and I knew you knew it."
"Well, to say something very original, that morning I knew you knew I knew you knew, you know. So to speak."
He giggles.
"You do have a knack of saying things so unequivocally."
"Shuddup. I'll see you down at the Duke in about an hour?"
"Beaudy."
And this afternoon is flowing along nicely on small talk and beer. Two in a row, great! she thinks. Then Piri comes over.
"Gidday," she says, grinning happily.
"Gidday," he replies, with a grin for her: it flits over his face and is gone by the time he looks at Joe.
"Get up. I want to talk to you."
Joe puts his schooner down slowly. "Why? I'm drinking with Kerewin. What's so important that you think you can interrupt us?"
"You know bloody well what. Excuse us, Kere."
"Okay," she says with surprise.
There's a side to that little man I would never have expected. All steel and anger… he's walking away as edgy as a cat to a fight.
And Joe walks meekly after him.
Piri says at the other side of the room,
"Have you told Kerewin?"
"Sweet Jesus, no."
"That's the only reason Pa held off. You tell her first, and make it bloody soon. If you don't, we will. He says you deserve that chance. I don't think so."
"Piri, I need a little more time, just a bit," his face twists as Piri turns away, pursing his lips in disgust. "Look, I'm begging you. Just some more time… I don't want to ruin things."
Piri looks at him with unveiled contempt.
"Ruin what? You've already done the ruining."
"Ah hell, I'm under pressure all the time. You don't know what it is to be lonely," he stops quickly, recalling Piri's runaway wife. "I mean, I can't help it if I blow sometimes. And you know it's not just bloody one-sided. He's — "
"Shut up." Piri leans his head back, his eyes half-closed, as though the full sight of his cousin was more than he could stand. "You've turned sour, Joe. You're bent. You've got all the resources of family in the world, and you won't let us help. We've stood enough of it. You're spoiling something special and bright and you fucking know it. I think you enjoy it."
"Don't talk stupid, I don't enjoy-"
"Shut up. That was the last time. You do it again, and it's not just Kerewin we'll clue up. And not just Kerewin's company you'll lose."
He swung on his heel and went out.
Joe looks down, his eyes filling with tears. "You degenerate bastard," he says, but he doesn't mean it for Piri. "There's your word to go ahead," he tells himself. He shrugs hard, as though to dislodge something clutching his shoulders, and goes back to Kerewin.
"Everything okay?"
Now's the time.
But he freezes at the thought of telling. Not yet, he thinks, smiling desperately, I can't tell her yet…
"Yeah, just another snarl-up with damn Tainuis, eh," pushing his hand out as though pushing the quarrel away. "Okay me and Himi go on that holiday sometime next week? When school breaks up?"
"Surely."
Why the tears, man? Why the tears glittering at the sides of your eyes?
A little while later, a lot of beer later, small talk under the bridge and the deep talk now beginning to flow, there's another interruption.
A slender man glides up and stands by Joe. He has a permanent smile fixed to his face.
"Well, well… do introduce us, my dear?"
"Jesus! What're you doing here?"
The man smiles a little harder. "Always a case of mistaken identity… I don't know how I do it." The smile razors coldly over Kerewin. "This is a change… aren't you going to introduce us?"
Joe grimaces. "E hoa, this is another Tainui, Luce Mihi by name. Luce, Kerewin Holmes, an artist."
The man raises his eyebrows.
"Really?" His handshake is cool, his hand limp.
Affected twit, she thinks, smiling as artificially back while saying, "Glad to meet you, the place seems littered with Tainuis."
"O, littered's the word, m'dear. Too apt."
He turns his smile deliberately back to Joe.
"Well, shall I sit down, my kissing coz?"
"Why?" asks Joe harshly.
"Thanks, sweeting. What news in the dear old burgh, Hohepa?"
"Nothing much."
The thin eyebrows swoop up again.
"Hohepa! I've only been here two days, and already I've heard the most fascinating things… Sharon told me a little tale yesterday, for instance. The dear saw sweet Simon over at you know who's… following in his father's, well maybe not footsteps but you'll gather my meaning hmm?"
"Who is you know who?" Joe is not smiling.
"Why, Binny Daniels," and the permanent smile widens a fraction to reveal startlingly white teeth underneath.
Joe looks at his cousin, his eyes snapping.
"I'll see Simon about that."
His voice is too tight, too controlled.
"Deary, Hohepa," each word spaced by exaggerated last vowel
sounds, "that's being a little heavy." He slid out of his seat, cool as a snake. "I was just sharing the news, sweeting. There's no need to get all rough."
He flips his hand. "I dare say the child could stand a little gentle handing. You really should thank Binny. If he was cleaner, and touchable, I would. Even though his taste is generally execrable."
Joe grits his teeth.
"Bye for now, my coz."
Luce fed himself back into the five o'clock crowd.
"That bastard is poison." He is squeezing his schooner viciously as though it was his cousin's neck. "He's bloody poison. A bloody poisonous liar."
Kerewin, who has heard about Binny Daniels, is having difficulty swallowing her beer.
"If you say so," she says at last, pacifically. O hell, I hope so. "If you say so." The easy drinking has clearly come to an end.