Page 98 of Possession Under the Southern Stars

She chuckles and leads the way along the corridor. “I think the gardener’s out there somewhere, but otherwise it’s just me here today.”

“No Adam?”

“Adam’s at work, and he doesn’t live here, anyway. He has a house in Tauranga with his wife and kids.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize that.”

She nods, turning into the kitchen. “Adam was keen to find somewhere of his own, and he was happy to let me have the house. I’ve always been the one interested in the family history, anyway.”

The kitchen is large, with many modern appliances, but it’s easy to see how old it is. The ceilings are high, with exposed wooden beams, and the polished kauri floorboards are slightly worn. There’s an original fireplace, complete with a large, cast-iron range, but it doesn’t look as if it’s in use now, so it must just be for decoration. Tall sash windows let in lots of natural light and reveal a gorgeous view of the gardens beyond. The bench ismarble, though, and I think the brass handles of the dark-green cabinets are new, even though they’re based on nineteenth-century ones. There’s a modern gas range, but old copper pots still hang from hooks above it.

A weathered wooden table stands in the center of the room surrounded by four chairs. On it, two plates face each other, along with a bowl of salad and a plate of what smells like homemade bread.

“I thought we could have some lunch here,” Isabel says. “Is that okay?”

“Yes, that would be great.”

“Do you want tea or coffee? Or I’ve made some sparkling feijoa and apple cooler in the fridge?”

“Mmm, that sounds nice.”

I take a seat as she puts ice in two tall glasses, then pours the drink from a jug over the ice and brings the glasses to the table. She takes a seat opposite me, and gestures at the salad. “It’s manuka-smoked chicken—you’re not vegetarian?”

“No. It looks lovely. And the bread smells amazing.”

“I baked it a few hours ago.”

I smile as I help myself to the salad. “You sound as if you’ve had a very satisfying morning.”

She butters a slice of the bread. “I have to admit that I do have a cook come in a few times a week, but I enjoy cooking myself, too.”

“Do you work at all?”

“Not now. I was a lawyer, but I had time off a few years ago after I had a hysterectomy and decided not to go back. I’m on lots of committees, and I’m usually quite busy.”

“You’re married, right?”

“Yes, Alastair is a lawyer, too.”

“You have children?”

“Two boys and one girl. Well, they’re all grown now. Ellie is expecting our first grandchild, so that’s exciting.”

I smile. “It’s obvious how important your family is to you. It’s no wonder that you feel so strongly about its history.”

She cuts up her chicken, then gives a little sigh. “My father told us lots of stories when we were young about our ancestors, including Henry Williams and his role in the signing of the Treaty, and Richard and Pania’s love story. And this house has been central to that family for so long. I feel as if they left part of their souls here. Certainly their memories remain. I can feel them when I walk through the house, especially when it’s dark and quiet.” She gives me an embarrassed look. “That must sound crazy to you.”

“Oh God, no. It’s one reason I love working in the museum. I imagine I can feel the hopes and dreams of all the people who once owned the artifacts inside it.”

She smiles at our shared madness, and we have a few mouthfuls of our salad.

Eventually, though, as if she’s been weighing up whether she’s going to go ahead with this, she comes to a decision and puts down her cutlery. “Whina called me,” she says. “She asked me to meet with you. She begged me out of respect for her long history with my father to see you, and I agreed. I don’t know why you’re here; I can only imagine it’s to ask me again to give the letters to the museum, and maybe to hand over the paintings. I have to say, I have no intention of changing my mind.”

“I understand, and I respect that.” I take a deep breath. “First of all, I want to talk to you about Fraser.”

Her expression hardens. She picks up her fork, and she jabs it into her salad.

“I know he upset you several times,” I say softly. “And one of those times was because we intruded on your privateproperty. Isabel, I want to apologize from the bottom of my heart for that.”

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