A Tattooed Heart (17 page)

‘But you Pakeha do
not
think about these things, do you?'

Amused, Sarah watched about five different expressions chase across Harrie's face, including surprise, realisation and a large dollop of indignation. If she were a chicken, all her feathers would be completely fluffed out.

‘That's a bit of a high and mighty thing to say, isn't it?' Harrie countered. ‘You can't really blame us. How are we supposed to know how you do things? You're the only New Zealander we've really met.'

Sarah gave a silent cheer. It was
such
a treat to see Harrie back to her old mildly bossy, ever so slightly self-righteous self, and also an indication of how well Aria was beginning to settle into their crew. Harrie wouldn't have dared say such a thing a month back.

‘Make an effort to learn,' Aria snapped. ‘I have had to make an effort to learn
your
ways. Nobody asked me if I actually wanted to. One day the missionaries came, and I just had to. Straight away, they wanted to change us. To live alongside the whalers and traders coming to Aotearoa, we have had to learn new ways. If we want to sell our goods here in Sydney, and we must, to survive, we have to learn new ways.'

There was another silence. Sarah cleared her throat. ‘So what
exactly
are you saying you want to do? Sorry, I'm not sure I understand.'

Aria sat back in the chair in front of the dressing table and crossed her arms. ‘I will wait and see what happens when you take the Shand woman the letter. If she does not stop the blackmail, then I believe I will conduct a taua. Do you see now what I mean when I say our goals may be one and the same?'

Sarah, Harrie and Friday stared at her.

Friday said, ‘But who will you have in your taua party thing?'

‘Just me.'

‘Can you have one all by yourself?'

‘I
can. I only need me,' Aria replied and made the most appalling face. Her heavy brows shot up, her eyes opened astonishingly wide to reveal the bulbous whites of her eyeballs, she bared her gritted teeth, gleaming white against the tattooed blackness of her lips, and she dragged a finger slowly across her throat, the violence of her gesture unmistakeable.

‘Christ,' Sarah muttered. She glanced at Friday, who was staring at Aria, her expression a blend of admiration, awe and fright.

‘Odsbodikins, Aria, that's not a pretty face, is it?' Harrie said.

‘It is not supposed to be.'

Friday's lip curled. ‘“Odsbodikins”?'

‘It's one of Isaac's sayings. I think it's sweet.'

‘Sweet? Idiotic, more like.'

‘So, we wait for the next demand?' Sarah asked. ‘Are we agreed?'

They were.

September 1832, Sydney Town

When Elizabeth Hislop opened the door, Leo didn't bother with formalities.

‘Is Friday at work? I've got to talk to her.'

Alerted by his brusque tone, Elizabeth stared at him. ‘She is but she's with a customer. Why? What's the matter?'

‘Aria's mother and father have just been in my shop demanding to know where their daughter is. They're fit to be tied, and they're blaming Friday. I've come to warn her.'

‘Oh God.' Elizabeth stepped aside. ‘She's in the flogging room.'

Leo brushed past and shot up the stairs, opening doors until he found the right room. Barging in, he interrupted Friday mid-flog. She was wearing knee-length, black silk pantaloons and corset, black kid boots, and a mask of black feathers, and her muscled shoulders and arms ran with sweat. He could smell the gin coming out of her skin from feet away.

Bent face down over a stool-like contraption was a man clad in nothing but a loose white shirt and hose, his red-wealed backside presented for the whip. On a chair in the corner behind him sat a girl he vaguely recognised, knitting. Connie, was it?

Friday plucked off the mask. Beneath it her face was sweaty and pink. ‘Leo. What are you doing here?'

‘Tu and Mahuika arrived this morning, looking for Aria. And they're not happy.'

‘Fuck.' Scowling, Friday rubbed at her temples as though she had a headache. Leo suspected she probably did.

‘Aye, fuck. They're looking for you, too. They think it's your fault Aria ran away.'

‘Well, it isn't. It wasn't my idea.'

‘That's not how they're seeing it.'

‘I say, excuse me —' the man draped over the stool interrupted.

‘Shut up, you,' Leo snapped.

‘Where are they now?' Friday demanded.

‘Going round the brothels. They must know you're a whore.'

‘That cow Mahuika does.'

‘Where's Aria?'

‘Shopping this morning but she's probably back next door by now. Is it just Tu and Mahuika?'

Leo shook his head. ‘They had that cove Hoata with them, and the one called Paikea, and some other fellow I haven't seen before, an older cove. Mean-looking bugger in a dog-hair cloak with all sorts of crap hanging out of his ears.'

‘Shite. That sounds like it could be her fiancé. I've forgotten his name.'

The man on the stool whined again, ‘Excuse me, look here, this is —'

Friday turned on him. ‘Didn't he tell you to stop blabbering?'

‘Yes.'

‘So shut the hell up, you grovelling little turd!'

‘Yes, mistress!'

‘They will find you, you know,' Leo said. ‘What will you do? When do you finish work?'

‘After this.' Friday shrugged. ‘Go back to the Siren and wait with Aria, I suppose. I don't know.' She regarded him, her face
creased with worry. ‘Or should we hide until they've gone?' She brightened and said, ‘Yeah! That's what we'll do!'

‘They'll only come back again. They'll not let her go without a fight. Why don't you ask Aria what she wants?'

‘But she might . . .' Friday trailed off and gazed down at the whip in her hands.

‘She might what?'

‘Nothing.'

But Leo knew what she'd been about to say: Aria might decide to return to New Zealand with her mother and father, and Friday couldn't bear that. ‘Lass, she wouldn't have come in the first place if she didn't want to be with you. No, better to have it out with them now and be done with it. Do you want me to wait around?'

‘No. Yes. Dunno.'

‘I'll wait in the bar, then. I could do with a drink.'

‘Thanks.'

As Leo left, the man on the stool grizzled, ‘Mistress . . .'

All Friday's fear, doubt and insecurity surged up in her and she raised her whip and brought it sailing down on his backside with three resounding cracks, far harder than necessary. He shrieked in ecstasy and began to thrust.

‘Your turn,' Friday said to Connie, who put aside her knitting, pushed up her sleeve and crossed to the stool.

Trotting downstairs to the dressing room to change out of her silly outfit, Friday struggled to contain her panic. What if she got back to the pub and Tu and Mahuika were already there? What if Aria changed her mind about wanting to be with her? What if they'd already all gone?

She threw on her dress and boots, knocked back nearly half a hip flask of gin, and rushed out the back door, passing Mrs H coming out of the privy.

‘Everything all right?'

‘No. Aria's bloody mother and father have come for her.'

‘Leo said. I've told Jack to be on the lookout. He's in the bar.'

‘So's Leo.'

‘Don't worry, love, she loves you. Anyone can see that.' Elizabeth pecked Friday on the cheek, then recoiled. ‘My Christ, how much have you drunk? You promised you wouldn't.'

‘This is different.'

‘Yes, this is something that really matters, you stupid girl. Don't drink any more.'

Waving over her shoulder, Friday tore off down the alleyway between the brothel and the Siren's Arms. Upstairs she paused in the hall to gulp the rest of the gin, then barged into her room.

‘Are they here yet?'

Startled, Aria said, ‘Who?'

Friday collapsed on the bed. ‘Your mother and father, they're looking for you. And I think that cove you were supposed to marry, what's-his-name.'

‘Te Paenga?'

Scrabbling around in the nightstand looking for more to drink, Friday nodded. ‘Leo said they were at his shop and now they're going round the brothels. They're bound to find us. What are we going to do?'

Calmly, Aria said, ‘Nothing. We will wait. Stop digging in that cupboard. You look like a pig rooting in a trough.'

‘I had a bottle of gin in here.'

‘I threw it away.'

Appalled, Friday stared at her. ‘What?'

‘I threw it away. You do not need it.'

‘I do! I do need it!' Not even the gin Friday had already knocked back could staunch the wave of terror consuming her, and her heart was pounding so rapidly she thought something inside her might burst. ‘I can't face them without it. Really, Aria, I can't!'

‘You can. Sit still and take deep breaths.'

‘You fucking well take deep breaths. I'm going to the bog.'

Friday shot out into the hall, downstairs and through to the rear of the pub to the vast linen cupboard, one of several places she'd stashed an emergency bottle. Sitting on the floor with her back against the door, she wrenched out the cork and upended it, shivering with relief as the cheap, pine-flavoured alcohol poured down her throat. Heaven. If only she could stay here forever, shut in the dark with the stacks of lavender-scented sheets and a nearly full bottle of gin. But that wouldn't work because Aria wasn't here, and Aria meant more to her than anything, even her beloved Blue Ruin. Reluctantly she opened the door a crack so she could see, jammed the cork back in the bottle and shoved it behind a pile of pillowslips, then dodged upstairs again, feeling much more decidedly swattled. Good.

‘Better?' Aria asked, her expression disapproving.

‘Yes.' Friday couldn't meet her eye. Well, if people didn't keep going on about how much she drank, and getting rid of her stash, she wouldn't have to be sneaky about it, would she?

They sat side by side on the bed in silence, holding hands.

Eventually, Friday asked, ‘What will you say to them?'

‘It depends on what they say to me.'

Her fear turning now to anger, thanks to the gin, and irritated by Aria's as-usual literal reply, Friday snapped, ‘No, I mean what if they say you have to go back with them?'

‘Are you frightened that I will?'

‘Well, what do you think?'

After a brief but very prickly silence, Aria replied, ‘I think that you cannot have much faith in me.'

Friday felt her face burn. ‘I do. I do have faith in you. It's your arsehole mother and father I don't trust.'

‘I would not have left my beloved Aotearoa if I had not chosen you above all else.'

Almost — but not quite — mollified, Friday asked, ‘But what if they say you have to go? What if they drag you away?'

Slowly, but very emphatically, Aria shook her head. ‘I have made my decision. I wish to be here with you.'

‘We could hide till they've gone,' Friday suggested, and immediately winced at Aria's disparaging look.

‘I am Nga Puhi, and Nga Puhi never hide or run away. And neither do you. I know in my heart that you do not. This is not you talking, it is the gin in you.'

I wish there was a lot more gin in me, Friday thought, but she's right, I am being gutless, which made her feel even more ill-tempered and on edge.

They continued to sit there and finally, just when Friday thought her nerves couldn't bear it any longer, came the sound of raised voices from downstairs. Exchanging uneasy glances, they hurried along the hall to the landing to investigate.

Below, at the bottom of the stairs, was gathered a small but very animated and noisy crowd. Tu, Mahuika, Hoata, Paikea and another Maori man stood shouting and pointing accusatory fingers at Mrs H and Jack, who faced them, gesticulating angrily back. A little apart stood Leo, his arms crossed, a sour expression on his face. Seeing her and Aria on the landing, he shook his head ruefully.

‘Mother!' Aria called. ‘Leave them alone!'

Looking up, her handsome face red with wrath, Mahuika cried, ‘Aha! I knew you were here! This purveyor of whores said you were not!'

Jack exclaimed, ‘Hoi! That's enough of that!'

Ignoring him, Mahuika picked up her skirts, pushed past the others and stamped up the stairs towards Aria. ‘Get down here, daughter. You are coming with us.'

Before she'd even thought about it, Friday darted down to meet her. ‘No, she isn't. She doesn't want to. She's staying with me.'

Eyes flashing dangerously, Mahuika demanded, ‘Get out of my way, whore.'

‘No. Get fucked. And get out of Mrs H's pub.'

There was a gasp from almost everyone, though Friday felt quite pleased with herself . . . until Mahuika drew back her arm and backhanded her very hard across the side of her head.

Shouts of protest this time, from Aria, Mrs H and Jack, and a warning from Leo not to retaliate. But Friday did. Her right ear ringing badly, she threw a punch that connected with Mahuika's temple, standing as she was two steps below Friday, and that knocked the decorative comb out of her hair and sent her staggering down and sideways to slump against the balusters.

Hoata immediately thundered up the stairs, coattails flying, grabbed Friday's hair and jerked her off balance. Scrabbling for the handrail but missing, she tumbled almost all the way to the bottom riser, landing in an ungainly heap with her skirts up around her thighs.

Everyone was bellowing now: Aria at her mother for slapping Friday; Jack and Leo at Hoata for pulling Friday down the stairs; Mahuika at Tu for not retaliating against Friday; Hoata at Paikea because he should have anticipated that the red-headed whore would do something violent; and Ivy because she'd come across the scene on her way to the laundry and got a terrible fright.

A shot rang out and everyone froze as a whiff of gunpowder tainted the air. Lowering her pistol, Elizabeth said, ‘And I'll damn well shoot one of you — and I don't care who — if you don't all calm down. Get up, Friday, you look like a pile of rags lying there. Now, I suggest you all take a deep breath and discuss this like adults. Ivy, you're not helping. Off you go.'

Ivy scuttled off, trailing dirty pillowslips.

Leo helped Friday to her feet. ‘Christ, lass, you smell like a gin still.'

‘Oh, shut up.'

Finally, it was agreed that Aria would talk to her parents and her fiancé Te Paenga, for that was indeed the identity of the strange man, in the Siren's Arms' private reception room.

‘But I wish Friday to be with me,' she said.

Friday stifled a massive sigh of relief. She'd been terrified that if Aria's parents got her alone, they'd somehow talk her into going back to New Zealand. Aria was right — she did lack faith, but in herself. She wasn't good enough for Aria and she knew it.

Scowling, Mahuika crossed her arms. ‘Then there will be no talking.'

‘That is all right by me,' Aria replied. ‘Goodbye.'

‘She is not family,' Tu said.

Aria said staunchly, ‘She is my family now.'

Friday almost burst into tears.

‘You are being childish and wilful,' Tu said.

‘I do not think so. You have Te Paenga and Hoata and Paikea in your party. I choose Friday to be in mine.'

Sighing, Tu very reluctantly agreed.

‘And I want Leo and Mrs Hislop,' Aria added. ‘And Jack outside the door.'

Friday wondered why. Then she eyed Hoata and Paikea — their six-foot frames and bulging muscles — and wondered if she was perhaps worried she might be bodily kidnapped and carried off? What a bloody awful idea.

Mahuika launched into a long and very shitty-sounding speech in Maori. While Aria replied in kind, and Tu and Te Paenga interjected from time to time, Friday, Leo and Elizabeth eyed one another, clueless.

‘Rude, aren't they?' Elizabeth remarked.

Leo shrugged. Friday didn't care, as long as they came to a resolution that suited her and Aria.

At last, Tu nodded.

The private reception room was furnished with a sofa and two armchairs arranged around a fireplace. Tu and Mahuika spread themselves out across the sofa, Te Paenga took one armchair and
Elizabeth the other (because it was her pub), which left everyone else standing and the room, quite small to begin with, feeling somewhat crowded.

Friday stared openly at Te Paenga. She was sure the dog skins in his cloak must have been cured, but the roaring fire was definitely drawing out any last, lingering smells they'd retained. He was wearing boots so, disappointingly, she couldn't see the ugly feet Aria so despised, but his face was certainly no oil painting. He had really bulgy eyes like a certain type of fish you sometimes saw at the George Street market, a strong, high-bridged nose, heavy lips, a tattoo covering his entire face, and a few warts thrown in for good measure. And he was getting on, probably at least forty, but was a big man, tall and very fit-looking.