Page 23 of Kiwi Gold
“Need something?” I asked.
“Breakfast,” Amira announced. “Because you’re making toast, and toast is breakfast, and we haven’t had any breakfast atall. Olivia had pancakes and eggs and sausage at herhouse, and that’s better breakfast.Holidaybreakfast, and it’s a holiday today. But Mummy said we couldn’t stay there and eat breakfast, even though Uncle Matiu said there was heaps, and we were welcome. Saying you’re welcome means theywantyou to stay.”
“They had maple syrup, too,” the other girl, Yasmin, chimed in. “And Auntie Poppy said she’d put Mickey Mouse ears on the pancakes, and chocolate drops for faces.”
“D’you know how to make pancakes?” Amira asked hopefully. “You have to mix things up in a bowl and then cook them in a pan. You have to cook the eggs in a different pan. I know how to turn the knobs on, so I could do the cooking part, but you have to read how to mix things on a recipe. Yasmin could read it, maybe, and I could cook. I could make the faces, too. I know where Mummy keeps the chocolate drops. I don’t know how to make the ears, but maybe you could show me.”
When I’d wanted not to wake up alone this morning, this wasn’t exactly what I’d had in mind. I buttered Laila’s toast, poured her coffee and a bit of orange juice, and succumbed to the inevitable.
“Let me take this in to your mum,” I told them, “and I’ll see what I can do.”
10
UNEXPECTED CONNECTIONS
Laila
Once again, I was blinking in confusion. The chime of a text, that had been, waking me from the sleep of the dead. I was on my stomach and, I realized when I lifted my head, drooling onto my pillow. And the man was watching me.
I sat up fast. Too fast, but the pain and general wonkiness had lessened, so he’d been right, with his two glasses of water and three cups of coffee and double dose of Panadol and all.
But still. I ran my hand over my mouth, blinked some more, and said, “W-what? Oh. The girls. Is everything OK?” My head was still swimming a bit, unfortunately.
I’d left him alone with mygirls.Should that worry me?
He leaned against the wall, crossed his arms and ankles, and looked amused. I’d have glared, but I didn’t have the strength. Also, he was wearing a T-shirt and rugby shorts, and he was … Well, anyway, he looked good. Again. Tall. Muscular. Scruff of beard. Dark-blonde hair falling over his forehead above a navy-blue eye, air of calm competence, and so forth. He said, “The girls are watching TV. We did pancakes and eggs, so they’re happy. No chocolate bits after all, so we couldn’t do faces, which was sad, but I managed some Mickey Mouse ears, and we all recovered from our grief.”
“You know … how to make pancakes?” I wiped my mouth again. Drooling had ceased. Good.
“Did I mention the four little sisters? I left you a couple of them. Pancakes, not sisters. It’d probably be a good idea to eat them. Carbs soak up the alcohol, or something like that. I’m going home again, since my work here is done, but I’ve been asked to a barbecue this afternoon. Call it a surprising invitation. I wonder if you’ve been invited as well, because I suspect wheels within wheels. Also, I believe I have your wedding ring. Maybe you’d like to explain that.”
I must still be fuzzy, because I wasn’t getting it. I did some more blinking, and he said, “Your wedding ring? That your husband gave you?”
I fumbled for the nightdress at the end of the bed, patted around, found the blue garter, and squeezed all around it. Nothing. I set it down again and said, “Well, yes. That would be mine.”
“He could be narky, I reckon,” Lachlan said, “that you weren’t wearing it. On your solo outing, that is.”
“As he’s dead,” I said, “I’m guessing not.” And leaned back against the pillows.
“Oh,” Lachlan said. “Well, then. Do I say I’m sorry?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Do you?” I didn’t have the bandwidth for this.
“On balance?” Lachlan said. “No. That’s the reason for the …” He waved a hand. “The push and pull thing you do, then. Not used to going out, eh.”
“No,” I said. “You could say that. But I’ve been invited somewhere?” I was more than ready to get off the topic of my marriage.
A beat or two where he was probably deciding on whether to go with Sad Madonna or Gagging for It, and he said, “To a barbecue with some people I’ve never met, in fact. Gray Tamatoa and Daisy something. Gray’s an All Black, or he used to be. Fine, I knew that, but why’s he inviting me? Far as I can tell, Daisy works with the bloke who’s married to Poppy … whatever her surname is. I’ve been hearing about both of them all morning, as they apparently have brilliant breakfasts which your daughters tragically missed. And Poppy’s brother, it seems, is my mate Jax, who actually sent me the invitation—to some much-removed-people’s barbecue—so there you are, it’s come around to me again. My invite says that maybe I’d like to give you a lift. And the girls, of course. And yet I’d swear that none of those people knows that I’m your neighbor. Hardly surprising, sinceIdidn’t know it. What’s more, though, four of them don’t know me at all. Have I given you enough time to get your brain sorted yet, or should I keep talking?”
Oh. The text. I picked up my phone. Yes, it was from Poppy.
We’re doing a barbecue at Gray Tamatoa’s place, and you and the girls are invited. Oriana and Priya are living with him and Daisy, you know. Bring a plate if you like, or don’t. There’ll be heaps of food already, and heaps of kids. Lachlan’s coming too. 3:00.After that, she’d given an address that I didn’t know from a hole in the ground.
I read it aloud, since he seemed to know what it was about, and said, “Oriana? My new assistant? What does she have to do with … whoever these other people are? And who’s Lachlan?”
“That’d be me,” my rescuer said. “Lachlan Hughes. Here to serve. Also to drive you to a barbecue, if you like.”
* * *
