‘Moana said she’d get Mere to arrange a meeting for me.’ Dan turned to Augi. ‘She said that it would be best if you were there, too, as the old man knows you.’
‘Of course,’ said Augi, knowing it was the right thing to do, even while acknowledging she seemed to be losing the battle to keep away from Dan.
‘That would be brilliant! Thanks so much,’ said Kate. ‘Both of you.’
Augi jumped up. She had to go before she agreed to anything else. ‘Thank you for dinner. It was lovely, but I must get going.’
‘Thank you for coming, Augi. And for your news about Mr Johnnie Kowalski — the missing link.’ Kate rose and walked with Augi to the side of the house. Only when they were out of earshot, did she lean in to Augi. ‘And thank you for agreeing to see our Maori relatives with Daniel. It’ll be such a help to me, but also to Daniel, I think.’ She glanced in his direction. ‘I think he needs this to re-connect with us all here. And, you have the contacts to make it work. And he has the…’ Kate seemed stumped for words. Augi wasn’t.
‘Charm?’ Augi laughed. ‘Between the two of us, hopefully we’ll be able to mend the bridges so you can travel along them again.’
Kate kissed her on the cheek — a first for Augi who paused only briefly before disappearing to the front of the house and down the path and the short walk home.
As she walked along the dark streets to her little cottage, she wondered how she’d ended up doing the complete opposite to what she’d intended at the beginning of the evening. She guessed that was what happened when you opened up.
Chapter Ten
Kate MacLeod sat in her favourite cane chair on the verandah, just outside the kitchen and family room, with a clear view across the abundant back garden to the sand dunes and the pale strip of beach beyond.
From here she could see Liam and his best friend George sprawled on a picnic rug on the lawn, dinosaur books spread between them, their heads bent together in earnest concentration. Beyond them, near the fence line, Sam was knocking in a post, his movements solid and purposeful, while Dan stood nearby, offering commentary rather than assistance.
Dan laughed at something Sam said and leaned back against the fence, shifting a hammer from one hand to the other. He looked relaxed for once. Kate didn’t know what was going on with him. What had happened in Washington DC to make him turn his back on a stellar career? She hadn’t asked him directly, unlike, she suspected Lucy. But whether Lucy had got anything from Dan, she didn’t know. They’d always been close and Kate suspected Lucy wouldn’t share any secrets.
But that was fine. Kate had sensed a shift in him. She didn’t know whether it was to do with Augi or not. But, as she watched him, she thought it probably was. Weren’t most mood shifts associated with the opposite sex? At least that’s how she remembered it. She sighed.
At first she’d been worried that Dan would inadvertently hurt Augi and Kate didn’t regret suggesting he go gently with her. Because, despite Augi being at least ten years older and appearing invulnerable, Kate knew better. The little Augi had let slip about her past life over the years, together with the occasional glimpses of the woman behind the mask had convinced Kate that Augi was sensitive and had suffered. And, so she assumed, had Dan.
But then, in recent days, his interest had seemed to wane. She hadn’t liked to ask why. One thing she knew from having so many children was that direct questions seldom got you anywhere. He’d talk to her when he was ready.
Whatever it was, he’d appeared to resolve it because he seemed more than happy to visit their Maori relatives with Augi. One thing was for certain, they both had their issues so, who knew, maybe the two could help each other.
She smiled as Dan suggested something to Sam who shot him a cynical look but did it anyway. The smile turned into a laugh. Dan had always been good at organising people. He turned to her at the sound of her laughter and caught Kate’s eye. He shot her an answering smile, and walked over.
‘What’s so funny?’ he asked, climbing the steps towards her.
‘You,’ she said. ‘Helping Sam.’
He tossed the hammer in the air before placing it on the table, and picking up his beer. ‘Yeah, I guess practical stuff was never my strong suit.’
‘Indeed. You always saw the big picture and persuaded everyone else to see it, and then do it, too.’
‘Hm,’ he grunted. ‘Not much of a skill really, is it?’ He pointed to the fence which Sam was just finishing. ‘You wouldn’t have a fence if it was only down to me.’
‘Maybe not,’ Kate said with a smile. ‘But it wouldn’t be such a well-considered, aesthetically pleasing fence.’
He grunted again. ‘Anyway, that pre-supposes that I see the big picture accurately.’
Kate shifted in her chair to better observe him. There was something in his voice which worried her. ‘You’re not talking about the fence, are you?’
He pursed his lips and shook his head. ‘No, Mum. I’m talking about my life.’ He looked out to sea. ‘I had this vision of how to live it.’ He drew an imaginary line across the wide horizon, where the dark edge of the sea met the bright line of the sky. ‘And I was on to it, with work anyway.’ He sighed and looked down. ‘Unlike my private life, and that proved trickier.’
‘A tricky woman?’
He nodded with a swallow. ‘A very tricky woman.’
‘What…’ Kate hesitated, ‘kind of tricky woman?’
He sighed and looked down at the beer bottle he dangled between his fingers. ‘The fair-weather kind, as you used to say. The kind that sticks with you while you’re the one who looks to be going places, and then changes channel when she finds someone — my best friend, incidentally — who has more wealth, more ambition and more connections she’ll find useful.’
