Survivor

by Lesley Pearse

  But now a whole new chapter in his life was about to begin. He had no anxieties about being a husband and father, but he did have some concerns about finding a job and adjusting to a life that wasn’t centred around a hospital. Mari’s father sounded tough, and he just hoped he could get on with him and her mother.

  What he really wanted to do, though he didn’t know yet if it was possible, was to work in a burns unit. He supposed the closest one would be in Auckland, and maybe Mariette wouldn’t want to live in a city.

  But he wasn’t going to talk to her about that yet. It could wait until after the baby arrived. By then, she just might be thinking that Russell was actually too small and lacking in challenges for her, after all. New babies had a way of making people change their ideas about all kinds of things.

  ‘We’re nearly there now!’ Mariette put her arm through Morgan’s and squeezed it tightly with excitement as they stood at the steamer’s rail. She had been moved to tears so many times on this last lap of the journey from Auckland to Russell, by the clear blue sea, the lush greenness of the trees along the rocky coast, and the dolphins. They had put on a display of gymnastics alongside the boat, which she was convinced was just to welcome her home.

  There was no longer a regular weekly boat to Northland – people went by road now – but this one had been chartered to serve all the holidaymakers going up to the Bay of Islands for Christmas, or further into Northland where they had friends or relatives. There were also quite a few men in civilian clothes, who she thought were returning servicemen, but she didn’t know any of them as they weren’t from Russell.

  ‘There it is!’ she exclaimed, as they sailed into the bay and they could see houses in the distance. ‘Do you think they’ll all be there to meet us? My heart feels like it might explode with excitement. I don’t think I’ve ever been quite as excited as this before, but I’m scared too.’

  ‘What of?’ he laughed, putting his arms around her and hugging her.

  ‘That they’ll be upset by the way I walk, that they won’t be the way I remember. Alexis was fifteen when I left, Noel was fourteen. They’ll be grown men now seven years on. I was always so mean to them, they are probably dreading me coming back.’

  ‘Silly goose,’ he said affectionately, kissing her forehead. ‘Seven years and a world war will have changed how everyone acts and feels. You aren’t the same girl who left, and they won’t be the same boys.’

  Belle, Etienne and Mog were waiting on the wharf, as excited as Mariette was, and just as fearful. For them it was worry over whether Mariette would approve of the redecoration of her bedroom, anxiety that Morgan might prove difficult, and fear that Mariette had been away for so long that she’d never fit back in. They’d suggested Alexis and Noel stay at home, for now, as they were afraid Mariette would be overwhelmed by too many people meeting her at the ship.

  ‘No more than ten minutes now,’ Etienne said, putting his arms around both Belle and Mog’s waists, but not taking his eye off the ship sailing towards them. He wanted that first sighting of his daughter’s beautiful hair.

  Waiting like this took him back to the day he’d arrived on the old SS Clansman. It had been pouring with rain and he’d stood up on the deck in readiness, his heart thumping with fear that Belle might have found a new love since arriving here a year earlier.

  She hadn’t, and she was miraculously waiting on the wharf, just as they were doing now. Not for him, of course – she didn’t know he was coming – but to collect a parcel. He remembered her startled expression when she first saw him, a look that told him she thought she was seeing things. Then, suddenly, she was running into his arms. The girl he’d held in his heart for so long still wanted him.

  He bent to whisper in Belle’s ear. ‘Remember the day I arrived?’ he asked.

  She smiled up at him, older now, a little plumper, and with her hair turning grey, but still his beautiful girl.

  ‘Yes, and nothing’s changed,’ she whispered back. ‘You still make my heart sing.’

  ‘What are you two whispering about?’ Mog asked.

  ‘That would be telling,’ Etienne said, and looked back to the boat. ‘Look! Is that her, up in the bows? Wearing something green?’

  All three of them peered at the boat.

  ‘I think it could be,’ Belle said. ‘Her hair is fair.’

  They were aware that others had arrived to meet the boat. They could hear feet on the gravel path along the foreshore, voices raised in greeting. In the days when the Clansman came every week, bringing post, household goods and even the odd piano, there had been a tradition that everyone came to meet it.

  That tradition had died along with the demise of the SS Clansman, but Belle knew that most of the people coming here now wanted to see Mariette and her new husband. They would all insist it was to welcome her home. But Belle knew word had got out that Mari had lost a leg, and Morgan was scarred by a burn, and they were curious.

  Although she was irritated by people being so morbid, she thought it was better that they see her daughter and son-in-law here, to satisfy their curiosity, rather than calling round to the house on some pretext.

  ‘Coo-ee!’

  Belle turned her head to see Peggy hobbling towards her. She had a problem with her feet now, and found it hard to walk any distance.

  ‘I couldn’t get the shop shut,’ Peggy said breathlessly, wiping her perspiring face on her apron. ‘People kept on coming in. There are so many of them on holiday here, goodness knows where they are all staying.’

  ‘We think that’s Mari, up in the bows,’ Mog said, pointing her out.

  ‘I bet she’s been standing there for the whole trip, she always did like the wind in her hair. I just hope Morgan likes the sea too,’ Belle said.

  ‘He must do, if he worked on ships,’ Etienne said.

  ‘Let’s all wave now, whether it’s her or not,’ Mog said. ‘Her eyesight will be better than ours. If she waves back, we’ll know for certain.’

  They waved frantically. Sure enough, the figure on the boat, and the man with her, waved back too.

  In real time it took less than ten minutes for the ship to reach the wharf, be secured and for the gangplank to be put in place. But it seemed like an hour to those waiting on the wharf.

  As Mariette took her first slightly hesitant step on to the gangplank, Belle broke away from Etienne and rushed forward, reaching her daughter just as she touched land.

  ‘My darling girl,’ Belle cried out, flinging her arms around her daughter. ‘Welcome home! There were times when I thought I was never going to see you again.’

  ‘Let other people get off the boat,’ Etienne said behind her, drawing both his wife and daughter to one side.

  ‘Papa!’ Mariette exclaimed, and all at once she was crying, trying to hug both parents at once.

  Mog turned to Morgan. Smiling, she held out both her hands to him. ‘Welcome home too, Morgan. I’m Mog, and we’ve all been dying to meet you. They’ll get around to saying that too, any minute. But I think the sooner we can get back to the house the better.’

  For Mariette it was the strangest feeling to be back home again. Everything – the sights, the sounds and the smells – were all so familiar, as if she’d left only yesterday. But it had a dreamlike quality to it, as if she might wake up and find herself back in England.

  Everyone had so much to say, so many questions to ask, and Mariette found it quite unnerving that her two brothers were now grown men with deep voices and wide shoulders. Yet their deep cobalt-blue eyes seemed to reflect all the danger and hardships they must have experienced.

  With everyone talking at once, Belle told Etienne and Mog to take Morgan and the boys into the kitchen, and she would take Mariette and her luggage up to her old room.

  ‘That’s better,’ Belle said, shutting the bedroom door behind them. ‘I’ve got you all to myself for a few minutes.’

  Mariette sat down on the new double bed, which had replaced her old single one, and looked ar
ound her. The pictures of film stars she’d pinned up were gone now, and the walls were papered in a pretty blue and white paper. All the furniture was the same, though, just given a fresh coat of white paint. There was an enlargement of a photograph of Mariette on the wall; she was standing at the helm of a yacht, wearing oilskins, because it was a heavy sea.

  ‘Where did that come from?’ Mariette asked. It was far too good a photograph to have been taken by anyone she knew.

  ‘A photographer who was here on a fishing holiday took it. It must have been the year before you left for England. Anyway, a couple of years ago he came back here again and gave it to us. As you can imagine, your father was thrilled. He made the frame, and we put it in here when we did the room up for you.’

  ‘It’s all lovely,’ Mariette said. ‘So pretty and fresh. And it’s so very good to be home again.’

  ‘Mog thinks you and Morgan will want a place of your own by the time Christmas is over,’ Belle said. But she laughed, as if unsure whether that was likely or not.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Mariette said. ‘Come and sit here, so we can cuddle.’ She patted the bed beside her. ‘Or do you think I’m too old for that now?’

  Belle was there in a trice, hugging Mariette tightly. ‘There were times when I thought I’d never, ever do this again,’ she said, her voice cracking with emotion. ‘Now I just want to hold you and never let you go.’

  ‘You’ll be a grandmother before long,’ Mariette said. ‘I won’t get a look-in with you, once there’s a baby to compete with.’

  ‘You’ll always be my baby,’ Belle said fondly, patting her daughter’s cheek. ‘That’s why I’ve got to ask about your leg. I need to see it. Is that peculiar of me?’

  Mariette laughed. ‘No, I think I understand. I’ve been told that all new mothers check to see their baby has all its fingers and toes. I guess it’s the same instinct.’

  ‘Then you don’t mind showing me?’

  ‘No, well, as long as it’s once and for all. To put your mind at rest.’

  Mariette stood up and unfastened her slacks so they fell to the ground. She heard Belle’s sharp intake of breath but she said nothing, just let her see the prosthetic leg and how it strapped on. She understood that the hardest thing in the world for any mother was to see their child injured.

  ‘It doesn’t hurt, Mum,’ she said as she sat down and began to unstrap the leg. ‘I’m used to it now, and I don’t mind it any more. I want you to feel that way too. I can do most things I did before, I just can’t run or jump. There!’ She exposed the stump, took her mother’s hand and laid it on her upper thigh. ‘I’m still the same, Mum, there’s just a bit missing, that’s all.’

  She watched as her mother’s fingers hesitantly touched the stitching on the stump, and saw the tears rolling down her cheeks.

  ‘Don’t cry, Mum,’ she said. ‘I really am OK about it.’

  ‘When you were a baby, I kissed your tummy, your bottom and those plump little thighs,’ Belle whispered. ‘I played “This Little Piggy” with your toes. It never crossed my mind that anything could ever spoil your perfect body. But thank you for letting me see. It’s not awful like I expected.’

  ‘We’ve got so much to talk about,’ Mariette said as she strapped the leg back on and pulled up her trousers. ‘I don’t mean about this, but things we never discussed before. You, Papa and Mog, how you all came together, your adventures both before and during the last war. I want to know it all.’

  Belle chuckled. ‘And I shall be quizzing you about your adventures too.’

  Mariette stood up and took her mother’s hand. ‘But not today, we’ve got a lifetime for all that. Let’s go down now and see the boys. I bet they’ve got lots to tell too.’

  Later that evening, after a celebratory dinner of roast lamb, something neither Mariette nor Morgan had eaten for years, Belle suggested they should all move outside as it was such a lovely warm evening.

  On the way back to New Zealand, Mariette had run through her head all the conversations she would have with her family. Especially her two brothers, because she was very well aware that they hadn’t really communicated at all before she left for England.

  Yet, despite all that planning, once they were all sitting around the table together, the conversation was as trivial as if they’d only been apart for a week. Mariette and Morgan spoke about the voyage home, and Alexis and Noel told them about a few incidents when they’d been kicking their heels in Auckland for a week, unable to come home until they’d been officially demobbed.

  As they all got up to move outside, Alexis caught hold of Mariette and held her for several minutes without saying a word. When he finally released her, he touched her cheek tenderly.

  ‘It’s great to be home with you again, sis, and to know that Noel and I are going to be uncles. Tonight isn’t the time to discuss the war and what it has done to all of us. It’s just a time to be glad we are all home, safe again. To welcome Morgan to our family, and to look ahead to Christmas.’

  Noel patted her shoulder, as if to say that he was in total agreement with his elder brother.

  ‘Wait till you see what the old man’s been up to while we’ve all been away,’ he said, grinning like a Cheshire Cat.

  ‘Less of the “old”,’ Etienne reproved him. ‘I had to find things to do, with all my children gone, and my wife off growing fruit and vegetables.’

  Etienne took Mariette’s hand and led her outside. When she saw the transformation, she gasped.

  When she was growing up, there had just been scrubby uneven grass running downhill from the back doorstep to the chicken run. In winter it was like a swamp, and in the summer the grass had huge bald patches because of all the ball games played there.

  But now it was a raised terrace of rather splendid crazy paving, with the walls surrounding it designed to be planted up with flowers. It looked beautiful, with a riot of bright red, orange and yellow flowers cascading over the walls. A couple of steps led down to the rest of the garden, where there was a real lawn, lush and green, with pretty flower beds. Mariette could see neat rows of vegetables growing behind a trellis.

  ‘It’s beautiful,’ Mariette exclaimed, and all at once she burst into tears. Somehow, the transformation in the garden brought home to her the realization that she and her brothers were grown-ups now. That her parents and Mog had been forced to make a life just for themselves while the children were away. They were all home together again now, but she, Alexis and Noel would all have to find their own path soon, which might even take them away from Russell.

  Morgan sat down and pulled Mariette on to his lap, letting her cry on his shoulder.

  ‘She’s understandably emotional,’ he said, looking around at her family, who all looked confused by her tears. ‘She’s kept an image of this house, of Russell and all of you, in her heart for seven years. But that image is out of date now. There’s so much to say to all of you, so many stories about each of you that she wants to hear. But she’s forgetting there is no rush, that we’ve got endless time ahead of us to catch up.’

  Etienne put his hand on Morgan’s shoulder. ‘Well said, Morgan. And can I just say how glad I am to find that my daughter has married the man I would have picked for her myself?

  ‘I can imagine what was going through your head on the long voyage, not really knowing what lay at the end of it. I made that trip into the unknown myself once. But I know you and Mari are going to be as happy as Belle and I have been, and a new life begins for you now as a member of this family.’

  He sat down then, next to Morgan, and took Mariette’s hand in his. She had begun to cry even harder because of what her father had said.

  ‘Tomorrow, we’ll go out on the boat,’ he promised. ‘And you’ll find nothing has really changed here.’

  Belle came closer and bent down to kiss both Morgan and Mariette’s cheeks. ‘What a future we have now! All of us older and wiser, but with a baby joining us soon. Babies have a habit of making everything real, t
hey show you what is important and what isn’t.’

  ‘Just before you were born, Mari, your mother got in a terrible state about everything,’ Mog said. ‘She wailed that she knew nothing about babies, and that you might die of neglect at her hands. I laughed at her because I’d seen that, whatever life threw at her, she could deal with it. And besides, she had me and your father too. You are just like Belle, capable of dealing with anything, and you’ve got the whole lot of us too. An army of help.’

  Mariette sat up and sniffed back her tears.

  ‘I guess coming home has reminded me of what a self-centred person I was when I left. But I just need to tell you that going away taught me how precious all of you are,’ she said, looking around at each of them. ‘I’ve got millions of questions for all of you, and there’s so much I want to share with you too. But I guess my lovely Morgan is right, there’s plenty of time for all that.’

  ‘There are thousands of tomorrows,’ Belle said, reaching out to tweak her daughter’s cheek. ‘All of them empty and waiting to be filled with laughter, love and happiness. Time for us to talk over all the things we didn’t have the time or inclination for in the past. Tonight is just a celebration of all of us being here, together again, at last.’

  Acknowledgements

  I owe Olive Bedford in the North Island of New Zealand so much. Not only has she been the most stalwart of fans for over twenty years, but for this book she did a tremendous amount of research for me about New Zealand.

  I only met her in the flesh for the first time in 2011 – until then we merely wrote letters to each other – but on her eightieth birthday, when she’d just lost her husband, I visited her while in New Zealand. Since then she has moved home, learned to use a computer, travelled to England alone, keeps abreast of world news, knits for my granddaughter, and is my dear friend and confidante. She calls herself my honorary mother, but I would be very proud to have her as my real one, as she is just the bravest, brightest, kindest woman I’ve ever met. I love you, Olive!