Page 42 of Sanctuary at MacLeod's Cove
‘No, sadly not. Hope was Ngaire’s daughter — your great-grandmother — but she died many years ago. I never knew her.’
‘Was Hope old?’
‘No, she died young, when she was only in her late forties, the year before I was born.’
‘Maybe that Hope’s dad.’
Jen flipped the photo over and looked at the date again. ‘1942.’ She shook her head. ‘No, the timing is out. I don’t know the exact date Hope was born but it must have been a few years after the war ended. Besides, Hope’s dad was Tamati, who was Maori. And this man looks nothing like Tamati. I’ve seen lots of photos of him and his whanau.’
‘What’s a whanau, Mum?’
‘It’s the Maori word for family.’ She smiled. ‘They teach Maori at school. I think you’ll enjoy it.’
As Liam continued searching through the box of photos, Jen tapped the photo thoughtfully. Even though the dates didn’t fit, it seemed strange that her great-grandmother had kept a photo of a stranger amongst her things.
She’d never seen this man before, which wasn’t surprising given where the photo had been found, and she wasn’t even sure whether he was wearing a New Zealand or American uniform.
She looked again, more carefully this time, at the face of the man in the photograph. The breeze ruffled his fair hair, and he was smiling. But not in that wide, cheery ‘I’m having my photo taken’ kind of way. She pulled her reading glasses from the pocket of her robe and peered more closely. No, his smile was gentle, and his eyes were looking, really looking at the person who was taking the photo. At a guess, she’d have said this soldier was in love with the person behind the camera.
Fanciful, no doubt. Alistair would have said her author’s imagination was running away with her. But Alistair had said a lot of things that weren’t true. She studied the soldier’s expression again. No, it definitely wasn’t a photo of a casual acquaintance.
She stood up. ‘I’ll see if your Gran knows who it is.’
Leaving Liam happily exploring, she went into the kitchen where her mother was folding some laundry.
‘Good morning, darling,’ said Kate. ‘Are you two ready for your breakfast?’
‘Don’t you worry, Mum. I’ll do it later.’
‘How did Liam sleep?’
‘Very well. Much better than I thought he would.’
‘I think he’s more resilient than you think,’ Kate said, placing the laundry basket on the table and walking up to Jen. ‘What have you got there?’
Jen passed it to her. ‘A photo of someone in the army, by the looks of things. Taken up at the urupa. Any idea who it is?’
Kate took it and peered closely at it. ‘It’s tiny. I can hardly make anything out.’ She looked around at the table. ‘I’ve a magnifying glass here somewhere. Aha!’ she said, sitting down and holding the magnifying glass over the photo. ‘Definitely taken at the urupa. No idea who it is though.’ She looked up at Jen. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘Liam found it in a box of photos stored in one of the attic cupboards.’
‘This house is crammed full of things and memories. Not my memories though,’ she said, still looking at the photo. She looked up at Jen with a slight frown. ‘No idea who this is. I’d say a member of the family — a cousin maybe — except for the fact that this chap is blonde. Most of us are dark.’
Jen took the photo back from her mother. ‘Except for Lucy and Dan. They’re blonde.’
‘True. Although we’ve never figured out where that gene came from. All your father’s family were dark-haired Scots.’
‘Hasn’t anyone done a family tree?’
‘Your dad did one. He was primarily doing his own family but looked at mine, too. We wondered if there was a connection generations ago.’
‘Was there?’
‘Not that he discovered.’
‘Where is it?’
‘Where’s what?’ asked Kate, rising to put the kettle on.
