Written in the Stars (8 page)

‘We reasoned that if she didn’t associate with them she wouldn’t be influenced by their way of life.’ He shook his head. ‘We were wrong.’

‘Do you still want me to marry her?’ Steve looked from one to the other, his face drawn tight. ‘Is that the answer, or is it just a long shot that it might slow her down for a while?’ He turned to his father. ‘She knew your situation, and how her actions could have jeopardized the business, but it didn’t seem to make a scrap of difference, did it?’

‘No, I guess not,’ Vince replied, sadly. ‘It would appear that she didn’t give it a second thought.’ Another sigh, ‘And probably still doesn’t.’

‘So she wouldn’t feel obliged to change her ways because we were married?’

‘I don’t know, Steve, but she seemed to settle down after you agreed to marry her.’ Vince looked at this wife. ‘Norah will tell you… we think it made a world of difference.’

‘Yes, but at that time all her troublesome friends were banged up in jail, weren’t they?’ Steve slammed his fist on the table to emphasis his words. ‘She had no contact with them and so I filled the gap in her life. But now they’re back, what next eh?’ He shook his head slowly. ‘I’ll do what I can to help, but I… ‘

‘But what?’

‘But, I have no intention of cleaning her up every time she comes home from one of their booze-ups.’ Steve glared at his father. ‘And I don’t like the idea of you having to bail her out of trouble again, because that’s what’s going to happen again, and again, unless this is nipped in the bud. The next time, it could be something far more serious. And what then?’

‘Maybe Hepora and Iritana have learned their lesson. Kirsty was really upset when they were sent to prison.’ Norah sighed. ‘Apparently everyone thought they’d get a caution or some community work, or whatever.’ For another hour, they continued to discuss the best way to handle the situation. Then Vince suggested that they sleep on it and talk about it again the next day, but as they stood up, Steve spoke again.

‘There’s another aspect to it that has to be considered. If she continues to spend time with those people, she’s going to start sleeping around again. I don’t care what she did in the past, but it’s different now. If she picks up with one of those guys who’s been messing around while he’s been in the nick, then she’s leaving herself wide open to all sorts of infection. To put it bluntly, I’m definitely not going to put myself at risk by sleeping with her. I’m clean, and I want to stay clean.’

Another tear slid silently down Norah’s cheek. ‘She fitted in so well when we brought her home,’ she said, quietly. ‘We thought she would turn out like you, Steve, and we’ve been so proud of you.’

Steve thought of her words as he climbed into bed, and spent hours staring at the ceiling as he tried to think of what to do. Finally, exhausted by his conflicting thoughts, he turned over and fell asleep.

Chapter Eight

Kirsty stared at Norah as if she was trying to understand what her foster mother was saying. She seemed unable to concentrate. It was quite obvious that her mind was still blurred with the alcohol and drugs she had consumed over the weekend. Then the haze lifted enough for her to listen to Norah’s voice which now held a note of exasperation.

‘You know we love you, Kirsty,’ Norah said. ‘We don’t want to see you destroy your chance of happiness.’

‘What do you mean… destroy my chance of happiness?’ Kirsty peered at Norah through bloodshot, narrowed eyes. ‘I’m happy with my life. I’m not destroying anything.’

Norah gazed at her in amazement. Couldn’t Kirsty see how she was abusing her body? Didn’t she understand that what she was doing was totally unacceptable in a normal society? How did she expect to keep out of trouble if she continued to associate with people who have no regard for the outcome of their illegal actions?

‘But, Kirsty… ‘

‘Don’t ‘but Kirsty’ me,’ she said, pulling her hand free. ‘You don’t understand, do you? Not one of you understands me, and you never will.’

‘We’ve done everything we could for you. We’ve treated you like our very own daughter, and Steve has been just as loving. You can’t point an accusing finger at anyone in this house.’

Kirsty stood up and paced over to the window to look out on the broad expanse of sea visible over the rooftops of the neighbouring houses.

‘You’re right,’ she admitted. ‘You’ve given me the best of everything, and I know you’ve tried to make me feel part of your life. When I was younger I never questioned my place in the family, but all that changed as I began to discover my true identity. Now I feel trapped.’

Kirsty was well aware that, initially, she had been proud to be part of a white family, but as she mingled with Maori children, she realised she had a preference for their friendship. Their concept of living for today appealed to her and she was happiest when she was in their company. It was as if that side of her nature was stronger than the European part.

Then she thought of Steve. She did love him, although it was a different type of love than she had for Joey Ruawhane. Steve embodied all the good aspects of her foster parents, and had provided the much needed physical love she required, but she didn’t have the same depth of feeling for him as she did for her Joey. She had agreed to marry Steve because it seemed to be the only way she could have the love and support she needed, but she knew in her heart he was her second best. Joey was her first and only true love, and always would be. But she knew he would never be accepted by this family.

Norah walked up behind her and slipped an arm around her shoulder.

‘What do you want to do Kirsty? What does your heart tell you to do?’

Kirsty shrugged in an effort to appear nonchalant, and then she turned to face her foster mother. She gazed into the older woman’s face with its genuine expression of love in her eyes. ‘I feel so totally lost and desolate; it’s like a blanket of doom sweeping over me.’ She buried her head on Norah’s breast and began to sob.

‘I don’t know. I don’t want to upset you and Pap, or Steve, but I feel as if I’m being torn down the middle. One half of me wants to fit into your lifestyle and the other…’

‘We thought that in time you’d come to terms with that,’ Norah said, stroking her hair. ‘You seemed to settle down after…’ She paused and then continued, ‘after what happened to Iritana and Hepora. You know that if it hadn’t been for Vince, you’d have probably gone to jail as well.’

Kirsty shook her head disconsolately and reached for a handkerchief to dry her tears. ‘I appreciate what he did, really I do, but it doesn’t change how I feel inside. It’s as if the other part of me is crying out to be heard, it’s like my ancestors are calling me.’

‘Your ancestors?’

‘Don’t you understand? I’m Maori and I belong to my people,’ Kirsty’s voice was pitched low and she spoke in a slow, deliberate manner. ‘I just got mixed up somehow. I should be part of a Maori family. That’s where my heart belongs.’

Norah could think of nothing to say in answer to that, so she grasped her hand and led her into the kitchen. ‘Come on, let’s have something to drink.’ After she had made some coffee, she added a slug of cooking brandy. ‘You could probably do with a hair of the dog, and I need something to help me cope with things.’

*

When she had finished the drink, Kirsty went back to her room, and sat on the side of the bed to stare at her reflection in the dressing table mirror—deep, soulful, brown eyes looked back at her from a softly square face with a tanned complexion. Her pleasantly full lips parted to reveal large, well-formed teeth that gave depth to her naturally enchanting smile.

She pushed her fingers through a mass of dark hair with a swathe on one side dyed grey, and grimaced. It was a mess. Her eyes ranged down to her well-rounded figure, and she wondered why she couldn’t accept herself as she was. Everyone agreed she was attractive, and the men were drawn to her like bees to a honey-pot, but that wasn’t enough; something important was missing.

Kirsty let out a deep sigh. She accepted that her foster parents had done everything possible to help her fit into their world, but it hadn’t changed her, or her way of thinking. She didn’t want to upset them, and she had never deliberately done things out of spite, even if they might think otherwise.

They just don’t understand that I see things differently. Everyone sees things differently,
she thought, twisting the dress ring on her finger. Like this ring that Steve had bought for her on a trip to Melbourne, and he’d bought an identical one for himself. She had seen it as a confirmation of their relationship, but she guessed that Steve had not attached any great significance to it.

‘I wonder what he did with his?’ she muttered. She felt annoyed that he had come back from Britain without it. She didn’t believe he’d lost it. ‘Maybe he’s given it to some woman as a token.’ Then she gave a short bitter laugh. ‘That’s stupid, you don’t give a man’s dress ring to a woman.’ But the thought wouldn’t go away.

She went out to meet Steve when he came home from work that afternoon. He hesitated when she called his name, and for a minute Kirsty looked downcast, like she thought he would ignore her. When he accepted her kiss on the cheek, she slipped an arm around his waist.

‘Did you have a good day?’

‘I suppose so,’ Steve nodded. ‘The usual problems, but that’s normal.’

‘Want to tell me about it?’

Steve shrugged his shoulders

‘You know me, all techno talk; you probably wouldn’t understand it anyway.’ Then he caught the look of disappointment on her face. ‘A picture is worth a thousand words—come on, I’ll show you rather than try to explain it.’

He grasped her hand and led her into the study. After the computer brought the relevant material onto the screen, Steve described the broad outline of a pump they had designed for a particular application and then enumerated the problems they were up against.

‘In other words it doesn’t work?’

‘Well, it would if the company had given us the right information,’ Steve replied. He gave a snorting laugh. ‘They want it done as cheaply as possible and so they didn’t tell us all the problems that had to be overcome. However, it’ll cost them more in the long run. It’s what is called false economy.’ He turned away from the screen and looked at her. ‘Did that make any sense to you?’

‘No, but thanks for explaining it.’ She turned her head away knowing she was close to tears.

‘That’s okay.’ He touched her on the shoulder and she swivelled around to look into his eyes. ‘Kirsty, Kirsty,’ he murmured, gathering her into his arms and rocking her like a baby. She laid her head on his chest for a minute, savouring the tenderness of the moment. Then she looked up into his eyes. ‘Love me, Steve. I want you to take me to bed and love me.’

Hesitating at first, as though this was almost against his will, Steve followed her into her bedroom, more from habit than for love now. As she slipped out of her jeans the sight of her nubile, naked body stirred him yet again, as it always did. She was particularly sensitive to his mood, and they spent a long time lying quietly in each other’s arms after their passion had abated. An hour later, they finally rolled off the bed and made themselves respectable to go and join the other two.

Norah got up from the table as they entered the dining room.

‘We’ve only just started our meal,’ she said. ‘Yours is in the oven.’

They all made an extra effort to be jolly, but the jokes fell flat and the old anecdotes didn’t seem so funny the second time around. Vince opened a second bottle of wine and then a third. By the time it had all been consumed, everyone seemed more relaxed. Kirsty coaxed Steve back to bed soon afterwards and curled up in his arms again.

‘I do love you, Steve,’ she murmured into his hair. ‘I really appreciate what we have; it’s just that sometimes…’ She stopped trying to explain why she felt the way she did.

Steve twisted his head and kissed her lips. ‘I know, Kirsty, really, I do know what you’re trying to tell me, but forget it for now.’

Kirsty’s breathing slowed as she fell asleep, and Steve wondered what Norah had said to her. Had she convinced her that this association with her Maori friends could only lead to more trouble? Or was this just Kirsty’s way of trying to make amends? As he stared blankly at the ceiling, his thoughts turned to Suzi Lysle Spencer once again. He sighed softly. He had no right to judge the woman in his arms when his heart longed for another.

*

Suzi phoned Mr Duncan early the next morning. The solicitor was brusque, but not unkind when she explained that although it would solve a problem, she found it impossible to consider buying Steve’s share of the property at the moment. She asked him to put everything on hold to give her extra time to think more about the matter.

When she arrived at the restaurant, Mark was restocking the refrigerator, but he stopped to make two mugs of tea and carried them out to the reception area. He put one down in front of her and kissed her cheek, then directed her attention to the pile of mail. ‘That’ll keep you busy for a while.’

Suzi had plenty of time to go through it all, for only a few people turned up for lunch. It had never been so quiet. Mark joined her at a table by the window.

‘Not a brilliant start to the day, is it? Half a dozen for lunch won’t pay the bills.’

Suzi forced a laugh. ‘Let’s hope it picks up in a day or two.’

‘I’ve just thought of something,’ Mark said, picking up a copy of the local paper from amongst the assorted pamphlets and discarded envelopes lying on the table. ‘I wonder if…’ He skimmed through the pages. ‘Ah, yes, I thought as much; they haven’t run the second advert.’ He threw the paper down. ‘I’ll give them a blast they won’t forget in a hurry.’

‘Leave it to me,’ Suzi urged him. ‘You might wind them up too much.’

‘Okay.’ He was just about to climb to his feet when he stopped. ‘I got a letter from Mum. She and Dad are heading down this way in a couple of weeks’ time, so I’d like to organise some time off while they’re here. I’ll see if Gary Hyland’s available. He can handle the lunchtime trade and maybe do some of the evening preparation as well.’

‘Is Judith coming too?’

‘I hope so. I haven’t seen my kid sister for ages.’

‘She might be your kid sister, but she used to be my best friend.’

‘Yes, well…’

Suzi was about to say it must be nice to have a family, when she stopped, suddenly feeling very much alone. Her father had died when she was young, and she could hardly remember him. She had not enjoyed a particularly good relationship with her mother, who had been very self-centred and preferred her own company. In fact, she had welcomed Suzi’s decision to move out of the family home, and her only high spot during those years had been her relationship with her great Uncle Bart. He had treated her like a daughter and she had always been welcome at Caxton Manor. It had been a sad day for her when he died, because, without him, there was no other family to turn to.

Mark’s cheery goodbye cut into her thoughts, so she gave him a brief wave and opened up the book that contained the names and telephone numbers of people who had dined at the restaurant over the past year. Slowly and methodically, she worked her way backwards through the pages reminding everyone that they were back from holidays and that they had just drawn up a new menu. A half hour later she put the phone down and felt greatly relieved at having just taken twenty-three bookings for the next few days.

She let herself out of the building and slipped in behind the wheel of her brightly coloured Honda. She stared blankly through the windscreen and tried to relax, for the feeling of being neglected had returned with renewed vigour. It was as if she had just become aware of her aloneness in the world, but it wasn’t as if she had no friends. She knew Charlize cared about her, and she reciprocated those feelings. She frowned as she suddenly wondered if she should marry Mark and become part of his family—after all, she had always enjoyed a good relationship with Judith. She quickly shook her head. ‘Now that would be stupid; all the wrong reason for a start,’ she murmured, and dismissed the idea as ridiculous.

Within a few days the restaurant was overflowing with customers and all her self-destructive thoughts dissipated like the morning dew. She and Mark resumed their former pattern of a day out together, or an evening meal in one of the many inns that abounded in the area. He seemed fairly content with himself and she wondered if he still expected to form a more intimate relationship with her, but he did not put her under any pressure, so overall, things were as well as could be expected.