In the end, Dan didn’t have to worry about whether or not to tell his mother that evening as she was out, and stayed the night in Wellington with a friend. It was the first time he’d spent the night alone in MacLeod’s Cottage and it gave him time to think through what Augi had said.
By the following morning he’d come to the conclusion that he was right — Kate deserved to know the truth. All of it. It wasn’t as if he were telling her that his father had been a liar and a cheat. That his mother’s soulmate had gambled away the family house. No, there were three generations between them. He had to tell her.
The opportunity arose the next morning when he returned from his swim in the sea. Kate was inside the house, reading the paper, and her expectant expression as she closed the paper cleared away any lingering doubt.
‘So? How did you get on yesterday?’
He poured himself a coffee and sat down opposite her, wanting to gauge how she’d take the news. He took a deep breath. ‘Ngaire’s father lost the house in a gambling session to some marine.’
Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. ‘What?’
‘Seems he was a gambler and went too far one night, staked the house and lost it. A marine won it.’
‘No! Not Johnnie!’
‘No, not Johnnie. It didn’t seem like Uncle Hemi knew exactly what happened beyond the gambling loss. Or, at any rate, he didn’t tell us everything. All he said was that, after the war ended, Ngaire and Tamati were able to move back into it again.’
‘In 1947,’ murmured Kate. ‘When Hope was about one.’
‘So the pieces are coming together a bit more.’
Kate looked up at Dan. ‘More than a bit. I’d have liked it more if the pieces had come together without painting Ngaire’s dad in such a bad light. But’ — she shrugged — ‘there’s no helping that. No painting it any colour other than what it was. You and Augi have done well.’ She shook her head. ‘I should have gone to see Hemi and the others years ago. But I was too proud to let anyone know about the house. And Ngaire’s warning to stay away kept niggling me at the back of my mind. Silly.’
And in that moment Dan was glad that he’d decided to tell Kate. ‘It wasn’t silly, Mum. It was natural. Especially in a small village where everyone knows everyone else’s business. Of course you wanted to keep such a big secret to yourself.’
‘The irony is that the shameful bit was well known to everyone. Everyone, it seems, except me.’
‘Yeah, I know. I guess it’s hard to take and hard to understand why they never said anything.’
‘Probably because the elders who knew kept it to themselves, never telling anyone else, so that slowly the knowledge died out.’
‘Leaving only Hemi.’
She sighed. ‘It’s a lesson for us all to make sure we know about our history before the people with the knowledge are gone.’
They sat in silence for a few moments. Dan, contemplating the family history they had no knowledge of, and Kate looking as if she were on the verge of tears.
‘Aw, Mum. Come on.’ He reached across the table and took her hand. ‘It’s OK. At least we know now, which should make it easier to understand why the house is being left to someone else.’
‘But how come, if it wasn’t Johnnie Kowalski who was gambling with my great-grandfather, that he ended up owning the house?’
‘I don’t know. Hemi didn’t shed any light on that. But, do you remember when Oliver said that he found old receipts at the Old Colonial Hotel from John Kowalski, settling other people’s debts, which suggests he was well-off. Maybe he also settled a debt which affected the woman he loved — Ngaire.’
‘Hm,’ said Kate. ‘It certainly fits the evidence.’ She looked up at Dan and he was relieved to see a smile on her face for the first time. ‘He must have been a nice man. A good man.’
‘I guess he must have been. And I guess he didn’t envisage this situation eighty years on.’
Kate sighed.
‘Augustini said she’d contact the relative who appears to be the closest. See what that person knows.’
Kate nodded. ‘The end is drawing nearer.’ She looked around. ‘I’ll miss this place. But what I won’t miss is the uncertainty. The not knowing.’
‘At least we can give you that,’ he said, getting up and pocketing his phone.
‘Where are you off to?’
‘For my second breakfast with my sisters.’
