Page 41 of Sanctuary at MacLeod's Cove
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, Jen awoke and lay listening for a few moments. She could hear a scuffling sound coming from Liam’s room and glanced across the small landing. He was sitting cross-legged on the floor looking through a box beside an open cupboard.
She grunted in amusement and relief and propped herself up on her elbow and watched as he studied one photograph after another before setting them carefully down.
It seemed her expectations of her son were too low. She’d thought he’d have a restless night after the scare he’d got yesterday, but he hadn’t called out once. It gave her hope.
She rose, pulled on her dressing gown and went over to kneel beside him. He looked up with a smile and continued looking at the photo in his hand.
She kissed the top of his head. ‘What have you found?’
‘Photos. Of people.’ He held one up. ‘Who are they?’
She took it from him and looked at the familiar face of her grandmother.
‘That’s Hope when she was young. She was my grandmother. Your great-grandmother.’
‘Where does she live?’
‘She doesn’t. She died years ago.’ Jen continued looking at the photo, her gaze shifting to the background. ‘See here?’ she said, showing Liam. ‘That’s the tree by the front fence.’
‘It was smaller, then,’ said Liam, picking up another photo.
Jen began rummaging through the box. ‘I don’t remember seeing any of these before. Where did you find them?’
‘In the cupboard. Gran said I could have a look to see if there was anything I liked there.’
‘I think she meant puzzles and toys.’
He looked up with a flare of anxiety. ‘Not photos?’
She ruffled his hair. ‘She’ll be very happy that you like looking at the family photos. Goodness knows, we kids didn’t pay much attention back when we were young.’
‘Why not?’ he asked.
‘Because we grew up with the people and the places.’ She shrugged. ‘I guess it was all familiar.’
He rummaged further into the box of photos piled one on top of the other before plucking out a yellowing one of a man in uniform. ‘And who’s this?’
‘I don’t know.’ She took this one from him, too. ‘I’ve never seen him before.’ She turned it over to see if there was any writing on the back. She squinted and held the faded script up to the light. ‘1942. I don’t recognise him. Nor the soldier’s uniform.’
‘Isn’t that the tree up the hill?’ asked Liam.
‘Yes, it is.’ She looked at Liam in surprise that he recognised the tree. ‘How did you know that?’
‘Grandma took me up there to show me the old Maori cemetery. There were lots of flags and photos and this big tree on its own.’
‘It’s called an urupa. The Maori cemetery.’
Liam scrambled over and, leaning on her, peered at the photo. ‘That tree looks smaller, too.’
‘It would be. It was taken over over eighty years ago.’ She tapped the photo in her hand as she looked into the mid-distance. ‘That was in Ngaire’s time. I wonder if she had a boyfriend who was in the army.’
‘Ngaire?’ he asked, looking up at her.
‘My great-grandmother. She died only five years ago. She was over a hundred.’
Liam thought for a bit. ‘Do I have a great-grandmother?’
