Hunting BLind: It's Every Family's Deepest Fear

by Richardson, Paddy

  ‘Don’t think so,’ Dave says. ‘He had a girlfriend when he was here. Louise, Lilly, Lila? Something like that.’

  ‘Lisa,’ Stephanie says. ‘I think it was Lisa.’

  ‘Sometimes gay people have heterosexual relationships,’ Greg says.

  ‘Sometimes they do.’ Stephanie turns towards Dave. ‘So he didn’t tell you why he’d come back or if he was married? Nothing about where he’d been or what he’d done since he left?’

  ‘No. I didn’t really ask.’

  Esther smiles. ‘He’d be too busy bragging on about you lot.’

  ‘Why do you want to know?’ Dave says.

  Stephanie shrugs. ‘No reason. Just wondering. He asked if I’d like to do a bit of work where he is now.’

  ‘What sort of work?’

  ‘Just odd things. I said I was looking for something to do while I was here. I thought I might go out there and look around. Maybe do a few hours there from time to time.’

  ‘Oh Stephanie, you deserve a break,’ Esther says gently.

  Dave straightens up and looks directly at her. ‘Does that mean you’re going to be around a bit longer?’

  ‘I’m not due back at work for a while. I thought I’d stay here a few weeks if that was okay with you and Esther.’

  Dave’s eyes are gleaming and his voice is loud. ‘Course it is. Course it’s okay with us. Knew you’d be back. I used to say to myself, just give her some space and she’ll come back in her own time.’

  ‘I’m sorry I haven’t been here for so long. It was just—’

  He cuts in quickly. ‘I know, I know. Let’s not go into all the whys and wherefores. Doesn’t do any of us any good. Let’s just be happy you’re here and staying a while. Okay?’

  ‘Okay.’

  She talks to Dan every night. She’s in bed just after ten, between the cool, crisp cotton sheets and he calls. His voice is low-pitched and slightly raspy. She’s come to love that voice.

  ‘Rosie’s missing you. She wants to know when you’re coming back.’

  ‘Tell Rosie I miss her too. Tell her I’m coming as soon as I can.’

  She’s curled up in bed with the phone tucked against her ear. They’ve talked so much in the past week. She has to know everything about him, wants to touch him, needs to be with him in love, I think I’m in love. She could stay another week to please Dave and Greg then make her excuses and go back. They’d have almost the whole of summer.

  ‘When is soon as I can?’

  ‘I don’t know. There are things I have to sort out.’

  ‘What things?’

  ‘Things I can’t really speak about just now.’

  ‘You don’t give away much, do you?’

  ‘Actually you’d be surprised at how much more I’ve given away to you than to anyone else.’

  Her heart’s beating faster. She’s been so controlled, so determined to remain self-sufficient and private that even saying that makes her feel so infinitely vulnerable. How terrible and how stupid that in all of these years of her growing up and young adult years she’s never let herself feel like this, never allowed herself to be in love. Never so much as said I love you. Not to the boys, not to Dave or friends or lovers, because she’s been so afraid that if she says it out loud and shows her feelings, she’ll somehow be jinxed. Something will happen and they’ll be lost.

  He’s silent and when he speaks she hears a shift in his voice. He’s serious now. ‘So there’s a little bit of hope for you and me.’

  ‘We live at opposite ends of the island.’

  ‘Yes. And you’re a doctor and I’m a hunter and I have a child and you don’t. Doesn’t matter. What matters is giving each other a chance. We can’t possibly predict what will happen after that. I know you well enough to give this a go. What I need to know is whether you want that as well.’

  ‘I don’t think—’

  She waits for him to say something, anything. For him to try to persuade her. So that she can argue back, logically explain why there’s no chance of anything happening other than occasional meetings. Why they shouldn’t expect anything other than to become good friends and occasional lovers.

  Stephie?

  Gemma has her hands raised high and she gathers her up. And Gemma’s arms are clamped around her neck, her body pressed against her, and they’re laughing, whirling around, around, around.

  And the surge of love she feels is like a sparkler bursting and raining bright fiery sparks into the dark.

  ‘Yes,’ she says. ‘I don’t know how it can possibly work but I want that.’

  She waits a few days then drives along the lakefront out of town. ‘Just before you get to the motor camp. You can’t miss it,’ Esther had said. There’s a large sign beside the driveway. Aspiring International Academy of Sports.

  There’s been a lot of money spent here. The driveway’s smoothly paved and the building in front of her rises up new and opulent, a two-storey, concrete structure with wide gleaming windows and balconies. The large grounds are landscaped with river stones and grasses. She parks and walks to the front of the building into the reception area. The receptionist looks up at her.

  ‘I’m Stephanie Anderson. I’d like to see Ed Black if he’s available.’

  ‘Edward? I’ll see if he’s in class.’

  She taps on the computer in front of her. ‘He’s not timetabled for this morning. He should be free. I’ll try the staff room for you.’

  She phones and within minutes he’s coming through the door.

  ‘I thought I’d call in and have a look around. I might take you up on your offer,’ she says.

  ‘Good,’ he says, ‘that’s good. I’ll give you the tour.’

  She follows him along corridors and up stairs. The classrooms are nothing like the school rooms she remembers. Carpeted, padded seats, large desks, computer stations, wide-screen TVs. There’s a vast, silent library with study alcoves looking over the lake.

  ‘Pretty impressive,’ she says.

  ‘You have to be to compete in the international market,’ he says. ‘That’s where the money is.’

  ‘What do you teach here?’

  ‘The main idea is that students come here and brush up their English while they experience a range of outdoor activities.’

  ‘What kinds of outdoor activities?’

  ‘Cross-country skiing, mountain skiing, snow boarding. Canyoning, biking, kayaking, rafting, horse trekking. Whatever they want, we can arrange it.’

  She assumes an expression of deep interest and nods from time to time. What the hell is she doing here? Nodding and chatting about rafting and kayaking to this man who might have taken her sister? But it is after all might have. Innocent until proven guilty, isn’t that the way it has to be?

  ‘Why did you come back?’

  He looks surprised, then shrugs. ‘Nice place. Good job. Why do you ask?’

  ‘Just wondering. You left a long time ago. I was curious about why you’d want to come back here.’

  ‘I didn’t leave because I disliked the place.’

  Then why did you?

  ‘Where have you been since you left?’

  ‘All over the place. Had a bit of time teaching overseas, Oz mainly. I like to move on. Itchy feet. You know.’

  She watches his face as he speaks. Watches for signs of uneasiness. Of his eyes shifting away, changes in his expression. There’s nothing. Nothing. Where overseas? Where in Oz? Did any children go missing there as well?

  ‘But you’ve come back here.’

  ‘Hey, what is this? Twenty questions?’

  She shrugs her shoulders, smiles. ‘Like I said. Just curious.’

  ‘I always liked it here but the job got me down after a while. Too many naughty kids, eh Stephanie? Too many naughty kids and parents going on about things I couldn’t do anything about.’

  ‘You left because of that?’

  He flashes her a grin and holds out his hands, palms upwards. It’s a practised grin and gesture, d
esigned to charm. ‘Naughty kids and parents and women after me. Women who wanted me to marry them. You’ve found me out.’

  ‘You mean Lisa?’

  He looks quizzically at her. ‘You remember Lisa? Top marks. Yeah, Lisa wanted to marry me and I didn’t want to marry her or anyone else for that matter. So it was time to take off before I found myself tangled up in something deep and meaningful.’

  ‘Couldn’t you have just told her?’

  ‘Yeah, I could have but it seemed a good time to move on.’

  They’re outside now, standing on a decked area. Maybe that’s all it was, maybe it was Lisa. He gestures towards the lake. ‘Amazing, isn’t it? When this job came up, I remembered how pretty the place is and went for it.’

  The lake that day. Glittering in the sun. The plane coming out at them from behind the mountains.

  ‘Anyone ever told you that you look like your mother?’

  ‘Not for a while.’

  ‘It’s a compliment. Your mother was a good-looking woman. Though to tell you the honest truth I was a bit afraid of Minna.’

  ‘Afraid of her?’

  ‘Yeah. She was formidable, your mother. As I said, she was very nice to me but I was always careful not to get on the wrong side of her. A very sharp tongue from what I remember. Minna still got that sharp tongue?’

  She can’t help smiling. ‘She has.’

  ‘Now, what about you helping around here? You interested in doing something?’

  ‘What would you want me to do?’

  ‘We’re doing a tramping trip next week. We could do with another adult along on that.’

  ‘How long?’

  ‘Only half a day. Up the Matukituki but we won’t go in very far.’

  ‘Okay. I should manage that.’

  ‘Have you done much tramping?’

  ‘I went on a hunting trip not so long ago.’

  ‘Get anything?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I do a bit of hunting myself. Maybe we should try it sometime.’

  ‘Maybe.’

  ‘We’ve got kayaking on every Thursday. You know how to handle a kayak?’

  ‘I grew up round here, remember.’

  ‘Right you are. Can you be here on Wednesday around eight-thirty for the tramp?’

  She’s there right on time in shorts, T-shirt, tramping boots borrowed from Esther. He’s outside the buildings with twelve or so students milling around him. He’s all efficiency, loading up the bus, checking the kids’ gear. She stands back, watches how he handles them. He’s totally professional, friendly but not overly so, cracks a few jokes. She can tell they like him.

  He calls her over, introduces her to the students. She meets his eyes and his gaze is utterly candid and direct. There’s nothing, no turning away, nothing hidden that she can identify. Could he hide it so well if he’d done it? If he’d taken Gemma wouldn’t there be something revealed in his eyes, his face, wouldn’t she have seen something by now?

  He’s driving the van, invites her to sit up the front in the seat nearest his. He watches the road carefully as he drives, glances up into the rear-vision mirror regularly to check on the students. ‘Most of these kids’ve never done any of this before,’ he says. ‘Especially the Asians. Most of them are a bit spooked when they first come here. They want to know where all the people are. Heading out into the great outdoors is quite a challenge.’

  ‘Is this their first tramp?’

  ‘No. We’ve already done a few. First time I took them out it was you want us to what?’

  ‘How do they feel about it now?’

  ‘Some of them have actually come to like it. They get back into class raving about the fresh air and birds.’

  ‘Have you taken them out overnight?’

  ‘That’s coming up. Next week if the weather’s right. Maybe you’d like to come along as well.’

  She feels an instant slam of repugnance. All night. With him. She couldn’t do that.

  ‘I don’t like camping out. I like my hot showers and comfortable bed too much.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ he says. His eyes are on the bus in front of them.

  ‘I’ve been on this road a lot,’ she says. ‘There’s a good swimming hole not far from here. Minna used to bring us out years ago. Me and the boys and Gemma.’

  ‘Yeah, there are some good places around here.’ His face is expressionless.

  She watches as he hands down the gear, as he tightens the straps on one of the girls’ packs. Watches as he walks. Does he walk too close to that girl? Does he single anyone out for his comments and jokes? Does he ever appear too familiar, too friendly?

  She can’t fault him, not on anything. He’s utterly friendly, utterly helpful and utterly removed.

  But these kids are almost adults.

  Gemma was four.

  They’re climbing uphill through bush. She feels the muscles tighten in her legs and her breathing start to labour.

  He looks across at her, raising his eyebrows. ‘How’re you doing?’

  ‘I’m fine.’ She says it firmly.

  As they head further upwards and the track narrows he calls them all to form a group. He quiets the students and speaks slowly and carefully. ‘Okay, everyone listening? Don’t move away from the track. Stay together, walk in single file. Single file? Everyone understand that?’

  They nod. One of the Chinese boys translates to a friend.

  ‘Just remember, single file and stay on the track. Keep over to the left side after the next bend. There are ravines ahead. You could fall over the edge without seeing them. Okay?’

  They walk on. He’s beside her. ‘Keep an eye out for anyone wandering off,’ he says. ‘There are places around here you could fall into and never be found.’

  He glances across at her.

  38.

  Through the tramps, the rowing, the rock climbs, she watches him. He’s careful with his students. When he’s with the younger local children for Thursday’s kayaking he stands back from the little girls, mostly leaves it to the women instructors to help them in and out of the kayaks and haul them out of the lake when they fall in.

  Dave looks up as she walks into the family room. ‘About time they put you on the payroll down there.’

  ‘The kids are good. I’m enjoying it. I’m fitter than I’ve been in years.’

  ‘You getting on okay with Ed?’

  ‘Ed? Yes. Why shouldn’t I?’

  ‘No need to be defensive.’

  ‘What do you mean, defensive?’

  ‘Well, he’s unattached and not all that much older than you, is he?’

  ‘Jesus, Dad.’ She turns her back, pours a glass of wine, tries to compose herself. Is that what they think?

  ‘You’re thirty-one. Be good to see you settled. I’m hoping for some grandchildren one of these days.’ He’s smiling, his voice jovial.

  ‘Maybe I don’t want children.’ There’s a strained, uncomfortable silence.

  ‘How’s your research going? Are you getting much writing done?’ Esther says it, her smile a little fixed. What’s she thinking? That she wants everything back as it was? That she doesn’t want Stephanie with all her history, all her reminders, doesn’t want someone with Minna’s face around any more?

  ‘Stephanie needs a break. She’s been working too hard for years. You’re looking a lot better, love. Good to see you with some colour on your skin. You used to be just about black in the summers here, remember? Got Minna’s skin, haven’t you? Not like me, just turn red and peel.’

  She turns towards Esther and smiles in a way she hopes is reassuring. ‘I’ve got a bit done. Not as much as I should do, though. All this sun and good company is too distracting. I’ll have to head back soon. I need to get my head down again.’

  ‘You could work in my study,’ Dave says. ‘I’ll clear it out for you. I’m hardly ever in there anyway. We want you to stay as long as you can. Isn’t that right, Es?

  ‘Of course,’ she says brightly, and walk
s off into the kitchen.

  She talks to Dan into the night.

  When are you coming back?

  Her leave is rapidly passing. She could spend the rest of it either attempting to prove something that now seems most likely to have been manufactured out of her imagination or waking each morning tucked up against Dan. Days walking along the beach with Rosie and Dan, the taste of salt coming up from the waves, evenings on the terrace watching the sunsets. Nights in his bed.

  She feels a tension in the house. Senses Esther glancing at her when she thinks she’s not aware. Maybe she has the feeling that something’s not right and she’s wondering what Stephanie’s up to. She doesn’t want her there stirring things up, upsetting things. She has her life the way she wants it and, to be fair, she deserves it. She’s worked hard to get it to this point so why shouldn’t she keep it that way?

  Sometimes truth’s too harsh, Stephanie. Better to let Gemma rest easy.

  And Minna’s on the phone. Calling Stephanie’s cell, calling on the home phone when she won’t answer. ‘What’re you doing there?’

  ‘I’m visiting Dad and Esther and Greg. What do you think I’m doing here?’

  ‘Come on, Steph, you haven’t been near Wanaka in years. Now you’re practically living there. What’s up?’

  ‘Nothing’s up. Do you want to talk to Greg?’

  ‘Yeah, sure, I’ll talk to him. But I want you to tell me why you’re there first.’

  ‘What’s it to you? I hardly hear from you and now you won’t leave me alone.’

  ‘I want to know what’s going on.’

  ‘Nothing. I’ll get Greg.’

  Minna. Minna. There are no photos of her, nothing of hers in the house yet she feels her there, all the time at her what’s going on, tell me the truth, what are you doing? The phone calls are making Esther wary because she looks uneasily at Stephanie as she holds out the phone, curious when Stephanie shakes her head.

  She hears whispering from behind the kitchen door she never phones here, never phones Greg. What the hell’s this all about? I thought you said those two didn’t get on.

  You know mothers and daughters. Those two were always at each other. Maybe things’ve got better between them and they’re making up for lost time.

  I feel like we’re being invaded, like my home’s not my own any more.