Page 100 of Midnight Enemy

I look away, not really seeing the pool or the guests. Is it true? Did Dad’s feud with Blake really start over a woman? At eighteen? But I know that Dad and Blake were competitive all through high school. Wanting the same girl could have turned into an extension of that competition.

I think about what Scarlett said, about Dad going over to the commune and wanting to pay for Amiria’s treatment. Could it be that all these years he’s continued to harbor feelings for her?

Dad was eighteen when I was born, so he must have met Mum very soon after his original argument over Amiria. Now, I wonder whether he dated her on the rebound. Did Mum know he’d been in love with someone else?

Young people are often mocked when they say they’re in love, and told it’s just a crush, and it can’t possibly be serious. But clearly hisfeelings for Amiria must have been powerful for them to have carried on through the years. Her illness and death must have hit him hard.

I study her face, wondering how much she’s like her mother. She told me that Amiria ‘belonged to everyone, in a way, not just to me.’ I didn’t give it much thought at the time. What did she mean by it? I thought I had a difficult relationship with my mother because she was so reserved, but now I wonder whether it would have been harder to have a mother who was warm and friendly to everyone, and with whom every man fell in love.

Although Blake and my father were friends at first, and I know they were both smart guys with a similar talent for mathematics and finances, their core beliefs were obviously very different. Blake set up Kahukura in his early twenties with Amiria, so she must have been attracted to his socialist tendencies. No wonder she chose him over my father.

“I’m sorry,” Scarlett whispers. “I shouldn’t have told you.”

“No, you were right to, and I’m glad you did.” I get to my feet and kiss her forehead. “But I need to speak to him.” I gesture to Marama, who’s hovering just out of hearing. “Chat to Marama for a bit,” I say to Scarlett. “I won’t be long.”

“Oh no…” she says, clearly worried I’m going to cause a problem, but I just kiss her forehead again and walk away.

After all this time… I need to talk to my father.

I walk through the lobby and turn into the corridor to the offices. I walk past mine and Kingi’s to the next one. Sure enough, my father is in there, looking out at the gardens, his hands behind his back. His dark hair is threaded with silver, which makes the flashes at his temples less noticeable now, but they’re still there.

He sees my reflection in the window, but he doesn’t turn. I close the door behind me and walk over to his desk. He always uses old-fashioned fountain pens, and one is lying next to an empty notepad. I pick it up and turn it over in my fingers.

“Seventeen and a half million for the Waiora?” He turns to look at me. “Is it really worth that?”

“We’ll make the extra money back easily,” I reply. “The pool is going to be a huge attraction for the guests, and it’ll also smooth things over with the locals. It’s a good investment.”

“So their ploy worked. She got them what they wanted.”

Anger bubbles in my stomach. “It wasn’t like that.”

“So she didn’t open her legs for you?”

I toss the pen onto the desk and put my hands on my hips, but don’t trust myself to say anything. He holds my gaze for about ten seconds.

Then he winces, runs his hand through his hair, and says, “That was rude of me.”

“She doesn’t deserve that.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“She’s a nice girl, Dad. And I thought you’d be nicer about her, if only out of respect to her mother.”

He looks at me then, startled.

“Yeah,” I say. “Scarlett told me that your feud with Blake was because she chose him and not you.”

He sighs, sits down on a nearby armchair as if his legs have given out, and massages his brow with a hand.

I sit opposite him. I’m still angry at what he insinuated about Scarlett. But I also know he thinks attack is the best form of defense. And I know him well enough to see that he’s hurting.

“Did you love her?” I ask. “Amiria, I mean?”

He lowers his hand. Leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, he links his fingers and studies them. “Yes,” he says eventually. Then he gives me a mutinous look. “I know we were only eighteen. But I was crazy about her.”

“Will you tell me what happened? With Blake?”

He sighs and looks out of the window. “I guess it doesn’t matter now.” His gaze is distant. “We met in Year Seven. We were both in the top classes for all subjects. We had lots in common, and we became friends immediately. But we were also fiercely competitive. As we got older, I tended to get higher marks in tests, I was chosen for sports teams before him, I was a faster sprinter, I nearly always had the upper hand… until I met Amiria. We were all in our first year at uni. We met at a party after the first trimester. Blake wasn’t there; he was away in the South Island, visiting family.”

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