What he needed was a cigarette. He hadn’t touched one in years. Now he’d sell his soul for a smoke.
He headed down the long green corridor, stopping just short of the window at the end. A huddle of humans was gathered there, their pain silhouetted against the milky light of dawn. In just a handful of hours Paul had got to know these strangers so intimately. People were more real in the face of tragedy, the hindrances of pretence and polite restraint stripped away in the face of grief. They were about to switch off their child’s life support machine. The teen had ‘come out’ that he was gay then jumped off a bridge, breaking his body and his parents’ hearts. The tubes were still in place, the machines whirred and beeped, and the lad’s chest heaved and fell fifteen times a minute. But the papers had been signed. The kid’s life had already been lost. His body was just tricking the eye.
In that moment the essence of human existence was distilled for Paul – the need to belong and the need to be loved.
JOSHUA
‘Dear God, my new granny is very sick. I was supposed to have lunch with her today. I hope she won’t die, because … uh … because she’s my father’s … my other father’s mother.’
‘Amen. Okay, boy, into bed,’ Myra said, tousling his hair.
‘Mum?’
‘Yes, Josh?’ she said, sitting down on the edge of the bed and smoothing the creases in the duvet cover.
‘Did my other dad like cars too?’
‘Sure he did,’ she said pulling the sheet up under his pudge of chin. ‘His first car was a VW Beetle – an old turquoise one with cream-coloured seats and an indicator light that flicked out from the side. I helped your dad sew the seat covers, you know. We called it his love bug, after a movie we’d seen.’
‘That’s a funny name. Love bug. Love bug. Love bug.’
Myra smiled.
‘Ma?’
‘Yes, my boy.’
‘Was it sore for my other dad when he died?’
She swallowed. ‘I think God reached down very quickly and took him before he had time to feel sore.’
‘Mum, don’t turn off the light. I’m scared. What if God reaches down and takes me or my new granny.’
CARLA
The blackness was solid – an impenetrable nothingness.
Slivers of light poked in around the edges.
Cool floating fabric. Rigid. Plastic. Dry wet bubbling. A prickling. Smell.
Beep, beep, beep.
Sandalwood and Dettol.
Grey turned to white, then yellow. Light.
‘Carla.’
‘Carla.’
‘Carla, can you hear me?’
Yes, I can hear you!
But the voice kept asking. Kept asking. Kept asking. ‘Carla, can you hear me?’
The light was now expansive, whole and round. A mood. An understanding. A golden comprehension.
Her father is stooped over his desk. He looks up, brown eyes dancing as he spins the globe on his desk. Her mother stands at the kitchen bench in her purple slippers. She wipes floured hands on her housecoat and smiles a smile that shares a childhood. Dana wags her tail and trots under the table in search of scraps. Jack leaps down off the school bus and lollops towards her, a stick of cherry-red sherbet in his hand. Kevin winks a no-worries-Carl wink, and there is Gabby, pin-size petite in the incubator.
A kauri tree drives through a cerulean blue sky. A tui calls. Clouds settle. A carver kneels over a long beam of wood and chisels a story. Fronds unfurl. A moa pushes through the undergrowth disturbing a hedgehog’s stuttering passage. One young man holds a book in his hands and reads, his posture all pride. Another cradles his baby and makes promises. Butterflies capture magic. An elderly woman, her chin patterned with ink, weaves fingers of flax into a coat of great beauty. A farm fence divides one place into two.
Carla wraps herself in these images, all seamlessly sewn into one enormous quilt. She is comforted by the colours and stories it tells.
Suddenly lights, metal, a windowpane, blue curtain, white sheets, twists of tube, a graph, a vase of freesias, a face …
‘Carla, you’re awake!’
A familiar face.
‘She’s awake. Nurse, she’s awake! Oh my God, you’re awake.’
Too much. Too fast. She shut her eyes.
Trembling lips touched her cheek. Cool water ran down her face.
She opened her eyes slowly this time.
It was Paul.
Paul.
And Carla smiled, for she was still on the same side of the fence.
Permissions
Hunt, Sam. N.d. ‘Winter Solstice Song’. In JAAM 21 ‘Greatest Hits’: An Anthology of Writing 1984–2004, ed. Mark Pirie and Mike O’Leary. Wellington, NZ: JAAM in association with HeadworkX publishers and ESAW. With grateful thanks to Sam Hunt for permitting me to quote his poem in my work.
Grace, Patricia. 1987. ‘Butterflies’. In Electric City and Other Stories. NZ: Penguin. With grateful thanks to Patricia Grace for permitting me to use her short story in my work.
Endnotes
1 Genesis 2.24 The Official King James Bible Online, Authorised version KJV.
2 Hunt, Sam. N.d. ‘Winter Solstice Song.’ In JAAM 21 ‘Greatest Hits’: An Anthology of Writing 1984–2004, ed. Mark Pirie and Mike O’Leary. Wellington, NZ: JAAM in association with HeadworkX publishers and ESAW.
3 King, Michael, p. 156 The Penguin History of New Zealand (New Zealand: 2003).
4 On plaque on wall at Paremoremo prison. Also in Foreword by Robson, Matt p. vi About Time: Turning people away from a life of crime and reducing re-offending. Report from the Department of Corrections to the Minister of Corrections (New Zealand 2001). http://www.corrections.govt.nz/__data/assets/pdf_file
/0011/666218/abouttime.pdf
5 Duff, Alan, Once Were Warriors (New Zealand, 1990).
6 Glaubman, Richard, Life is So Good (USA, 2000).
7 Haka Ka Mate http://www.kawhia.maori.nz/haka.html.
8 Information from a talk I attended at the wharenui Ngākau Māhaki, Unitec Mt Albert campus, May 2015, as part of the Auckland Writers Festival and handout: A Vision Beyond Its Time: Moemoea Kei Tua I Tōnā Wā (UNITEC, New Zealand).
9 Grace, Patricia. 1987. ‘Butterflies’. In Electric City and Other Stories (New Zealand:1987).
Research Bibliography
With thanks to all the authors and individuals below whose works enlightened me, and enriched my understanding of the world my characters would inhabit.
Anderson Atholl, Binney Judith, Harris Aroha. 2015. Tangata Whenua. An Illustrated History. NZ: Bridget Williams Books.
Capote, Truman. 2000. In Cold Blood. UK: Penguin Classics.
Compain, Glen. 2008. Street-Wise Parenting. NZ: Harper Collins.
Duff, Alan. 2004. Once Were Warriors. NZ: Vintage, Random House NZ.
Ihimaera, Witi. 2014. Māori Boy. NZ: Random House.
Isaac Tuhoe ‘Bruno’ with Haami Bradford. 2007. True Red – The Life of an Ex-Mongrel Mob Gang Leader. NZ: True Red.
King, Michael. 2003. The Penguin History of New Zealand. NZ: Penguin Books.
Lashlie, Celia. 2005. He’ll Be OK – Growing Gorgeous Boys into Good Men. NZ: Harper Collins.
Lashlie, Celia. 2003. The Journey to Prison – Who Goes and Why?, revised edition. NZ: Harper Collins.
Latte, Nigel. 2007. Into The Darklands and Beyond – Unveiling the Predators Among Us. NZ: Harper Collins.
Picoult, Jodi. 2008. Change of Heart. Australia: Allen and Unwin.
Scott, Owen. 2004. Deep Beyond the Reef – A True Story of Madness and Murder in the South Pacific. London: Penguin Books.
Wishart, Ian. 2001. Breaking Silence. The Kahui Case. NZ: Howling at the Moon.
Radio NZ. 2008. Sat 16 August. 09.05hrs Kim Hill interview with JJ Joseph and Celia Lashlie. Male Violence.
Radio New Zealand. 2008. Sunday 18 May. 13.35hrs. Lynn Freeman interview with Isaac Marsh.
TVNZ. 200
9. The Outsiders. Greenstone Pictures.com. Director: Reuben Pillsbury. Producer: Cass Avery.
TV 3. 2008. Thursday 19th June 21.30hrs. Inside New Zealand: The Gangs: Part One. Top Shelf Productions Ltd. Producer/director: Laurie Clarke.
TV 3. 2008. Thursday 14th August 21.30hrs. Inside New Zealand: First Time in Prison. Ponsonby Productions Ltd, Director: Te Arepa Kahi, Producer: John Keir.
Acknowledgements
Writing The Last Time We Spoke has been a long and fascinating journey for me. It was a work in its infancy during my Masters of Creative Writing year at AUT in 2009 and grew to adulthood over eight subsequent years. I grew alongside it.
Many people have impacted on its evolution – to all, a big thank you.
Special mention to:
John Cranna, Tina Shaw and fellow colleagues of the MCW Class of 2008 for your early encouragement and feedback;
Renae Maihi for your invaluable honesty, guidance and support;
Amali Fonseka, John Quirk, Rob Tuwhare, Steph Van Meulen and Murray Darroch for your time, enthusiasm, interest and input;
Inspector Gary Davey and Constable Glen Compain for assisting in my research around violent youth offending in New Zealand, as well as police protocol; and Catherine Lawla of Victim Support North Shore;
Those in the NZ prison service who facilitated my research into prisons: Warren Cummings, Kelly Pouhotau, Annie Tausi, Chris Burns, Tom Sherlock, Peter Phelan, Ranga Hohai, inmates at The Northern Correctional Facility Ngawha; and Dr Julian Fuller for assisting in the above introductions;
Alan Ringwood for your time and expertise; Lesley Marshall for your sharp editorial skills of the very first draft, and for so generously sharing some of your life experiences with me;
And The New Zealand Society of Authors and Kobo for your endorsement through the Kobo/NZ Author Publishing Prize 2014.
A huge thank you to the A-team – my wonderful agent, Hannah Ferguson, and all the terrific people at Allison & Busby – for your unerring support and hard work.
Finally, thank you to my dearest Nadia, Andrew and Luigi for your endless patience, unconditional love, and might I say, supreme editorial skills. I’m keeping you all on!
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About the Author
Growing up in a publisher’s home in South Africa, Fiona Sussman fell in love with language and the written word at an early age. Her family’s house was always filled with manuscripts, books and colourful authors. This was during the apartheid era, and witnessing the brutal regime at work sensitised Fiona to the issues of injustice and racial prejudice. The illness and untimely death of her father led her to pursue a career in medicine and work as a GP. She emigrated from South Africa to New Zealand in 1989 where she still lives with her family, juggling her time between writing and running the charity hospital she and her husband established.
fionasussman.co.nz
By Fiona Sussman
Shifting Colours
The Last Time We Spoke
Copyright
Allison & Busby Limited
12 Fitzroy Mews
London W1T 6DW
allisonandbusby.com
First published in Great Britain by Allison & Busby in 2016.
This ebook edition first published in 2016.
Copyright © 2016 by FIONA SUSSMAN
The moral right of the author is hereby asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
All characters and events in this publication other than those clearly in the public domain are fictitious and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior written permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent buyer.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN 978–0–7490–2031–6
The Last Time We Spoke Page 26
