Butcherbird

by Cassie Hart

  First published in 2021 by Huia Publishers

  39 Pipitea Street, PO Box 12280

  Wellington, Aotearoa New Zealand

  www.huia.co.nz

  ISBN 978-1-77550-632-4 (print)

  ISBN 978-1-77550-642-3 (ebook)

  Copyright © Cassie Hart 2021

  Cover image: Courtesy of Pansfun Images/Stocksy.com

  This book is copyright. Apart from fair dealing for the purpose of private study, research, criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright Act, no part may be reproduced by any process without the prior permission of the publisher.

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the National Library of New Zealand.

  Published with the support of the

  Ebook conversion 2021 by meBooks

  For Paringa and all the generations

  of my whānau that lived and breathed

  and grew on your land. Thanks for the

  memories and the magic.

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  TWELVE

  THIRTEEN

  FOURTEEN

  FIFTEEN

  SIXTEEN

  SEVENTEEN

  EIGHTEEN

  NINETEEN

  TWENTY

  TWENTY-ONE

  TWENTY-TWO

  TWENTY-THREE

  TWENTY-FOUR

  TWENTY-FIVE

  TWENTY-SIX

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  TWENTY-NINE

  THIRTY

  THIRTY-ONE

  THIRTY-TWO

  THIRTY-THREE

  THIRTY-FOUR

  THIRTY-FIVE

  THIRTY-SIX

  THIRTY-SEVEN

  THIRTY-EIGHT

  THIRTY-NINE

  FORTY

  FORTY-ONE

  FORTY-TWO

  FORTY-THREE

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  JENA

  The jangle of her phone cut through the sound of the shower. Jena shut off the water and grabbed the towel, scrubbing her face and hands dry before wrapping it loosely around her body and reaching for the phone.

  Please be work, please be work, even one shift would help.

  They were so close to being kicked out of here, and if she didn’t get some hours soon there would be nothing to eat, let alone anything to pay the bills with.

  ‘Hello, Jena speaking,’ she said in her most professional voice.

  ‘Jena.’ That raspy voice. That single word. It told her so much.

  ‘Uncle David.’ She mimicked the dry tone. It had been a long time since they’d spoken, and she had no problem with that. She’d been in his house for seven years, but they’d never really been family.

  Not like the family she’d had.

  Before.

  ‘Pat wanted me to call. Your grandmother … Rose has taken ill and we think it’s best you head to the farm and make whatever peace you might need.’

  Jena didn’t say anything, just sank down onto the rim of the grimy bathtub, the cold porcelain lip cutting into her thighs. Her heart thudded in her chest and a wave of irritation swept over her on realising she actually cared what happened to Rose.

  ‘Jena?’

  ‘I’m here,’ she said brusquely, swallowing the lump in her throat. ‘I just—’

  ‘She’s getting on, Jena. It was going to happen sometime. Lucky the neighbour went to visit or she might have died.’

  It felt like birds were clawing at the inside of her chest, scrabbling for purchase on a heart Jena had thought was locked up nice and tight.

  ‘Jena?’

  ‘Yeah, I’m here. Give me a minute, would you? It’s a lot to take in.’ Jena pushed to her feet and walked into the small bedroom. ‘Is she in hospital?’ She moved to the wardrobe and looked, unseeing, through her clothing.

  ‘No, she’s home with a carer. Been back there a couple weeks now—’

  ‘What?’ Jena straightened. ‘She went to hospital weeks ago and you’re only just calling me about it now? What the hell, David?’

  He drew in a long breath and Jena could picture the look on his face – his brow would furrow, his cheeks would flush crimson – like he wanted to blast her but knew better than to start.

  ‘She didn’t want visitors, Jena.’

  ‘And if she’d been on her death bed, would you have called me then?’

  She heard him grind his teeth.

  ‘But she wasn’t. There’s no point going over what ifs. It’s cancer. She’s going downhill fast and they want to put her in a hospice.’ He paused, but he wasn’t giving her time to mull that over. He was choosing his words. He always chose his words. She wished he’d just say what he wanted to say, but he almost never did.

  ‘It’s time,’ he said. ‘We’re going to sell the farm and if you get down there and help out, you can get your cut of the inheritance early.’ He paused again, his voice softening when he said, ‘We know you could do with some extra cash.’

  Jena choked out a laugh. Of course, she could always do with extra cash. She was a mess, and her aunt and uncle knew it. Probably even Rose knew. ‘Is this a bribe?’

  ‘No, it’s not a bribe, it’s an offer. Come on, Jena. We know you had a rough start …. We know we didn’t always make it easy for you. Just—’ He sighed. ‘We don’t know how long she’s got, and this way you could kill two birds with one stone. Make peace with the old bat, and earn some money. You can’t tell me you’ve got anything better going on right now.’

  Her aunt whispered dramatically in the background. ‘David!’ And then the phone rattled as she grabbed it off him. ‘He didn’t mean it like that, Jena.’ She sighed.

  ‘It’s fine. I think it’s the first real thing he’s ever said to me. Why didn’t you call me?’ Jena asked. ‘Why did you make him do it?’

  She could hear Pat breathing through the phone. ‘I’m sorry. I just didn’t know how to say it …. My mother is dying, Jena.’ Her voice caught. ‘And I might have bolted from that place as soon as I possibly could, but she’s still my mother. You have no idea—’

  ‘Don’t,’ Jena warned, her voice tight as she swallowed the loss of her mother again. Just like she’d been swallowing it for almost twenty years now. ‘Just don’t go there.’

  ‘We all lost a lot that night, Jena. You most of all, I know that,’ her aunt whispered. ‘Look, just think about it, okay? You don’t have to go if you don’t want to, but we think you should.’

  Jena licked her lips, her tongue catching on dry skin as she walked into the lounge. ‘I’ll think about it.’

  ‘Take care, Jena.’ Aunt Pat hung up.

  Jena dropped the phone on the couch before sinking into it herself. It was worn and ratty, the fabric scratching against her legs where the towel didn’t cover her skin. She sunk her head into her hands and closed her eyes.

  Rose was dying.

  She shouldn’t care; she really shouldn’t. She’d barely spent any time with the woman since she was ten, and what little time they’d had was spent avoiding the only subject Jena wanted to talk about. The night of the fire. The night everything burned – including her family.

  She needed to know if it was her fault, because she couldn’t make sense of Rose’s actions if it hadn’t been. Why else would Rose send Jena away to live with an aunt and uncle she barely knew and who didn’t really want her?

  Jena sighed and leaned back, gazing at the water stains on the ceiling.

  If she left this shitty little apartment – if she went to the farm – she knew she wouldn’t be coming back. N
ot because she wanted to stay on the farm, but because this was a crappy place to call home – she was working to keep a status quo she didn’t even like.

  No, it was time for a change. Time to find some answers and reclaim some of her history, because maybe once she knew what had happened, she could move on. There was no way in hell she was letting Rose die without telling her the truth.

  Now it was only a matter of whether Cade would come with her. He could stay here if he wanted – that was his choice – but she was going.

  She was gone.

  She pulled on the first clothes she could find – yesterday’s tee and jeans – and went to the wardrobe and rummaged around until she found her big bag, tossing it on the bed and shoving in her clothes and the few things she actually valued; her tatty old teddy bear, the only photo she had of her family, and the copy of Alice in Wonderland Rose had given her before she sent her away. Then she went to the bathroom. She left behind her overused toothbrush – she’d get a new one, Rose owed her that much at least – and ducked down so she could get into the cupboard, scooping up her birth control, antidepressants, painkillers and makeup.

  The front door opened and Jena stood up, banging her head on the counter in her rush. ‘Cade?’ she called, rubbing the sore spot on her head. It could only be him, or maybe Dotty from next door.

  ‘Yeah, it’s me, babe. Where are you?’

  ‘Bathroom, be right out.’ She zipped up her toiletry bag and tossed it onto the bed. Her worldly possessions reduced to such a small collection; it was a bit pathetic.

  Cade walked into the room. His long blond hair was tied back in a ponytail, and he wore his ratty old surf-brand T-shirt, and blue jeans complete with rips at the knees. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked, nodding his head towards her pile of gear. ‘Running off with someone better looking than me?’ His grin said he knew that wasn’t it.

  ‘Yes, of course. Mr Rogers from the third floor promised to whisk me away to a better life.’ Jena grinned and folded her arms over her chest. She didn’t want to touch him, didn’t want to get closer, because she wasn’t sure how he was going to react to her news.

  ‘Just because he’s higher up than us it doesn’t mean his view is any better,’ Cade quipped.

  Jena sat down on the bed and ran her hands through the contents of the bag, double-checking she had everything important: clothes, toiletries, bear, book, photo. All there. Looking up at Cade, she pulled her lips tight to stop herself from getting emotional. ‘My grandmother’s dying. I need to go back to the farm to see her. Before she passes.’

  ‘Wow, okay. Wow.’ He sat down beside her, his hand absently stroking her thigh. ‘How long for? I don’t know if I made enough money busking today to cover the rent.’

  She shook her head and pressed a kiss against his cheek. ‘I’m not coming back.’ She let out a sigh when he stilled, then leaned against his shoulder, trying to pass some comfort along. ‘I’m not leaving you, but I’m leaving this shit heap. Come with me? I need to see her. I need closure. And then we can start over.’ She might want Cade to come with her, but for some reason she didn’t want to mention the money.

  He was silent for a minute. ‘She owes you.’

  She did, but it sounded way worse when it came out of Cade’s mouth. Jena just nodded.

  Cade got up and moved to the wardrobe, flicking through his clothes and tossing things onto the bed. ‘You never talk about her. About what happened to make the two of you fall out.’

  Jena sat up straighter and scraped the hair back from her face. ‘Maybe once we’re there,’ she said. ‘I mean, I barely know myself.’

  But hopefully, soon, she would.

  CHAPTER TWO

  JENA

  They decided to stay the night at their apartment. Cade made use of the time to flick off everything he possibly could – the couch, their tiny fridge, but not his surfboard – for some extra cash, and stocked the car with gas, food and enough rum to put a horse to sleep. Jena was barely able to get a wink in, which was probably why she fell asleep within an hour of hitting the road.

  She jolted awake as the car hit loose gravel.

  Loose gravel meant they were in the country, and being in the country meant she was almost there.

  Almost home.

  It was weird that she still thought of it that way because it wasn’t like she’d lived there long. Just before …. Before the night her family had died in a barn fire. Before she’d lost everything.

  Before her grandmother had sent her away.

  It had been almost two decades since she’d set foot on the farm. Two-thirds of her life spent elsewhere, and somehow it was still home.

  ‘You okay?’ Cade asked. He reached over and put his hand on her thigh, warmth seeping out from him. ‘You were snoring, but it was cute.’

  She rolled her eyes and laughed as she straightened in her seat. ‘Uh huh. And yes, I’m okay. Can’t believe I fell asleep.’

  ‘Almost there.’

  ‘I’m so nervous. Can’t believe I could sleep at all.’

  ‘GPS is dropping out but I downloaded the map so we should be fine.’ He moved his hand back to the steering wheel, tap-tap-tapping on the faux leather with his fingers.

  ‘I’m pretty sure I can find my way there, with or without your fancy maps.’

  She poked her tongue out at him and reached for the water bottle. The air in the car was dry and stale. The air con had crapped out months ago and there was no way they could afford to fix it. It was a shitty car, to go with their shitty jobs and their shitty apartment. Their shitty life. But maybe their luck would change soon.

  She glanced over at Cade. His lap was full of crumbs, and he was wiping pie residue from his fingers onto his jeans like a toddler.

  If he could knuckle down and pull his weight, anyway. No, she should be kinder. He was here for emotional support. Had chosen her over his life in the city. He wanted to help, and any help was better than doing this alone.

  She pursed her lips and looked out the window, wondering what state the farm was going to be in when they arrived. Cade wasn’t the handiest of guys, nor did he have the most get up and go, but he was motivated by money, and she’d have that soon. She just hoped she could find a way to dangle enough over him without giving away that Aunt Pat said she could have her whole inheritance early.

  Jena wasn’t sure why she didn’t want him to know. No, that was a lie. She cringed at herself in the reflection of the window, guilt chewing at her stomach. Cade would blow it. He’d find a way, he always did. And then he’d convince her that it had been a sure thing, that it wasn’t his fault. And she’d let him.

  ‘So,’ said Cade. ‘If you remember so clearly, where do we go from here?’

  She snapped her gaze to the intersection in front of them, roads leading left and right. On the corner of one sat a small hall, the very same one she’d performed plays in at primary school. It had seemed so much bigger then, so grand. But not any more. She pointed to the left. Up there, at the end, was Mount Taranaki, underneath the halo of cloud that so often surrounded him. ‘We’re not far. Go down there, and it’s the third driveway on the right.’

  They passed more green fields, more cows nestled together in groups. Everything seemed the same. There was The Johnsons scrawled in black on the first letterbox they passed, paint faded and peeled, with just enough clinging to the box to show it had once been yellow. The next house up was the Mertenses’. Some serious upgrades had been made to their place, a large extension to the side, a second storey attached.

  She held her breath, the knot in her chest twisting tighter as they rounded the corner. And there it was. Her letterbox. It was fresh blue and the red flag was raised.

  ‘In there, just stop at the letterbox,’ she said, a breathless remembered excitement taking over. They’d loved seeing that little red flag as kids, you just never knew what might be in the box. She and Joel would fight all the time over who got to get the mail in.

  ‘Why?’


  She let out a sigh. ‘Because if the flag is up, it means there’s mail. Have you never lived in the country?’

  ‘Now why would I do that?’ He raised an eyebrow and grinned. ‘You’re the only one who could drag me out to the ass end of nowhere and make me happy about it. As long as it’s not for too long.’

  Her stomach clenched as she tried to swallow the thought that it might be for longer than he’d like.

  But she had to make it work. If Rose was at the house then she wasn’t dead yet.

  It was time to find out the truth. And maybe if she could find some peace with the past she could move on and make a life worth living.

  She just had to find ways to keep Cade happy enough, and busy enough, that she could get that done without him interfering.

  Jena gathered the bundle of letters from the mailbox and got back into the car, not bothering to click her seatbelt on as Cade drove up the gravel drive. It was long, but less riddled with potholes than the road they’d just left, and as the car climbed the incline Jena held her breath until they breached the top and she finally got a view of the house.

  She sagged in relief. It was still there. The same two-storey farmhouse with the mountain looming behind like a watchful guardian, the ranges reaching around so that the farm seemed almost nestled in their embrace. It was as if the place had been suspended in time since she’d been sent away. Even the barn, reconstructed to look how it had before ….

  She averted her eyes – it was too much the same, almost like the fire had never happened.

  ‘So, this is where you grew up, huh?’ Cade tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, keeping the speed of the car steady but slow.

  ‘Well, it’s where I was born,’ Jena said. Still hating that it felt like home. ‘I think Iprobably did most of my growing up elsewhere, though.’

  ‘Like, with me?’ he said as he pulled to a stop.

  Jena looked at the veranda which ran all the way around the house, the rickety steps leading up to it, and then back at Cade. His face was warm, his blond hair falling down to his shoulders and across one eye. She reached over to tuck it back and then leaned in to kiss him, soaking up some of his warmth.

  ‘Yeah, like with you. I think I was just sleepwalking through life till I met you.’ Though was she really doing any different now?