‘But how?’ He shook his head. ‘How does that even work?’
She shrugged. ‘The usual way, I imagine. Sex. A baby. And a great deal of secrecy.’
He sat back on his heels as he thought it through. ‘So John Kowalski must have returned to New Zealand in 1946, Ngaire ended up pregnant as a result, and no one knew.’
‘He must have,’ she agreed. ‘I couldn’t see how — his records had him overseas that year. But I guess it was easier to go under the radar in those days.’
‘But Ngaire was married to Tamati by then.’
‘Yes, but remember what Hemi said? About how they were all surprised when Tamati said he was a father?’ She smiled faintly. ‘Tamati and Ngaire’s marriage must have been one of convenience. And, no doubt, love. But not the kind of love that makes babies. That was what Hemi was trying to tell us. It all fits.’
He nodded slowly. ‘So, Tamati and Ngaire had got married during the war, after Johnnie Kowalski had left New Zealand following his stint as a Marine. Maybe something happened that they needed each other. An arrangement.’
‘Yes, but it was an arrangement during which Ngaire and Johnnie corresponded. He was married, and so was she by that time. But it didn’t stop them from writing to each other. The records Oliver found in the hotel about their correspondence proves it.’
‘And then Ngaire stopped writing. Suddenly. Six months before Hope was born. Kowalski must have visited three months before then.’ Augi’s voice softened. ‘She must have been pregnant. And she chose not to tell him.’
Dan’s jaw tightened. ‘That’s harsh. She should have told him the truth. It was up to him what he did with it.’
‘It is harsh,’ she agreed. ‘But Johnnie was still married, and so was she. I imagine she wanted to take some kind of control of the situation and put her baby first. And that meant raising her in a stable family, in the home and community which meant so much to her. Besides, she probably thought it would be kinder if Johnnie didn’t know. He wouldn’t have had any conflicting feelings then; he could just get on with his life.’
He huffed. ‘I’d have wanted to know.’
She looked thoughtful. ‘What was Ngaire like?’
‘Honestly? I didn’t pay her much attention. She was just… old. She’d either be telling me off for making a mess or trying to give me a cuddle, and, I hate to say it, but I didn’t welcome either.’ He paused. ‘But Mum always said Ngaire was a happy woman. She loved the village and both her Pakeha and Maori families.’
Augi nodded. ‘She might not have got the man she loved, but she had her community, and family. She had a full life in all the other ways which are important.’
He pulled her close. ‘I’m greedy. I want everything. I want a full life in every way that matters.’
She laughed into his shoulder.
‘I love you, Augustini,’ he said, suddenly serious. He pulled back, searching her face. ‘And I don’t want to wait. Will you — Augustini Markos — do me the great honour of agreeing to marry me?’
Her breath caught. ‘Yes,’ she whispered. Then laughed. ‘Yes.’
He stood up, pulling her with him.
‘Come on,’ he said, already reaching for his jacket. ‘Let’s go and tell Mum.’
She smiled, heart full, mind racing.
The mystery of the house had finally found its answer.
And she had found her home.
Chapter Twenty-Two
It was only as they were driving to MacLeod’s Cottage that Dan realised he still hadn’t told Augustini his news. He was insecure on that one point, and beginning to regret the impulse to sign on the dotted line without talking to her. Augustini wasn’t a woman to be controlled or dominated. Not that he’d seen it that way. He’d thought he’d be giving her something she’d always yearned for. But since finalising the deal he’d been beset by doubts.
Had he made a fatal error which would make her think he was the boss of their relationship and would always make unilateral decisions about their life without consulting her? He hoped not. But he couldn’t tell her now. It wasn’t the time or place for it. Now was the time to be with his mother. And to make her dreams come true.
Kate had endured years believing that any day a knock at the door, or an email from a stranger, would mean she’d have to move out of the house that she, her mother, her grandmother and generations before her had lived in. He knew there was furniture in her house which their ancestors had brought with them from Scotland. As well as items which had been collected within New Zealand. Even a beautiful feather cloak that local Maori had gifted her great-great-grandfather for the help he’d given them over 150 years earlier.
It would have been a lot to sort through, to somehow place within a new home. But now Kate wouldn’t have to do it. And he couldn’t drive fast enough to find her and tell her.
It was only when he’d parked outside the house that Augustini spoke.
