by Ash Harlow
Luther arrives home at an early hour which is good because Rachel is bursting at the seams wanting to tell him everything about her school day and, of course, she wants to Skype Grandma, too.
“This is my workbook, Daddy Luther. Mommy Ginger has already seen my work, but you have to look at it, too. And sign your name down here.” She points to the space for him to sign but he’s giving me a wide-eyed look over Rachel’s head, mouthing “Daddy Luther” at me.
He goes through Rachel’s work, and then sets her up in the sitting room with a Skype call to Jean.
Back in the kitchen, he pours us both a drink. “Cheers, Mommy Ginger,” he says.
“Cheers, Daddy Luther.” We clink our glasses.
“When did that start?” he asks.
“After school. It just came out. I’m thinking most of the kids are talking about their Mom and Dad and she feels left out. Only a guess. Are you going to talk to her about it?”
“It probably won’t stick. She’ll have forgotten about it by morning, so I think we should let it go. Are you okay with that?”
I nod. “A strange thing happened today. When I collected Rachel after school one of the mothers said to me: ‘Your daughter is the image of you’, which was weird and funny at the same time. I’ve no idea who she was because any local would know I don’t have a child. I know most of the parents, but it just shows how Waitapu has grown.”
***
We slip into an easy routine. Either Luther or I do the morning school run, and I collect Rachel after school. She’s made a firm friend in Jasmine and they’re connected by their hands at every possible moment.
This afternoon, Jasmine is here for a playdate and she and Rachel are in the sitting room having a tea party with a collection of toys and a small tea set we’ve created from a milk jug and Luther’s espresso cups. I managed to find a large sheet of plastic among the last load of trash the builders have yet to remove, that I’ve put over the coffee table to protect it. Luther’s interior decorator hasn’t bought child-friendly furnishings, and we’ve discussed changing a room into a playroom for Rachel.
We’re forging ahead, turning ourselves into this little family and I feel so content it actually scares me. My life has changed so quickly and I’m scared I’m going to wake up one morning, and Rachel will be gone, Luther will scowl at me and this will be over.
Luther’s in Auckland for a court case this week and his enormous presence is missed by Rachel and I. In the mornings we Skype during breakfast, and we do the same again at dinnertime if Luther has made it back to the apartment. That’s only happened once so far, but he’s going to call tonight no matter what time he finishes work.
Jasmine is staying over because her parents are at a function until late. The girls have asked for fish and chips for dinner, and I’ve added some green vegetables. I manage to get them to eat a small amount of greens once they’ve smothered everything in ketchup. I thought having Rachel around was fun, but add Jasmine to the mix and it’s hilarious.
The only snag is when Jasmine balks at the bedroom I want her to sleep in.
“It’s big. And spooky. Are there ghosts?” she asks.
“No, darling, no ghosts.”
“It is spooky,” Rachel agrees.
I look around. It’s an elegant room, one styled with many original features of the old house, and I guess to a child, it would look a bit spooky. The furnishings are heavy, and there’s not a scrap of pink.
“Jasmine can share my bed, like you and Luther share a bed,” Rachel says. She turns to Jasmine. “I think Ginger gets scared in her room, too, because I went to find her the other night and she wasn’t there. So I went to Luther’s room and she was sleeping in the bed with him.”
Jasmine nods. “My Mommy and Daddy share a bed, too. All mommies and daddies do.”
“They’re not mommy and daddy, really. They’re friends. And we’re friends, so we should share a bed.”
Rachel’s logic is hard to argue with, but I’m mortified to know that she’s discovered me in Luther’s bed. She never said a word. She doesn’t look the least bit perturbed so I decide that I’ll let it go rather than try to explain. What would I say anyway?
I follow them into Rachel’s room. “Okay, you can both sleep in here so long as you don’t chat all night. Remember you have school in the morning.”
“I promise we’ll be good,” Rachel says.
“Right. Bath time.”
“Can we use Daddy Luther’s bath? It has bubble jets.”
“Sure, let’s go.” I’m hoping it will make them sleepy. It doesn’t. It takes two books before they finally drop off.
I’m in bed reading when Luther calls. He looks gorgeous, but tired. His tie is off, and his hair of mussed up as if his fingers have pushed through it several times today.
“Tell me all the news. Hey, how are my girls?” he asks.
“Your girls are good. How are you?”
“Winning. Court’s adjourning mid-afternoon on Friday so I’ll be home for the weekend.”
“Well, it’s just going to be us for some of the weekend. Rachel and Jasmine and a couple of other kids have been invited over to the island to stay with Reuben and Stella. It’s a big weekend. They’re releasing six kiwi and Stella’s organized it with the Department of Conservation that the kids can help. So they’re going to stay over and have a bonfire and all kinds of stuff. I wasn’t sure if Rachel would go, but she plays with Orion a lot at school, and she’s crazy excited. So, a quiet weekend for you and me.”
Luther grins. “I promise you, it won’t be quiet. Did Jasmine stay over?”
“Yeah, she’s here.”
“Are they sleeping?”
“Finally. In the same bed. Your magnificent guest room apparently has ghosts.”
“Probably does. Great Grandad was a fiery old bastard, always chewing someone’s ear off. I bet he hates what I’ve done with his house and he’s back to let me know.”
“So, the ‘fiery old bastard’ gene is an Angstrom one. Good to know. Promise me you won’t ever mention the ghostly great grandfather to an impressionable young girl with a vivid imagination.” His smile makes my heart thump hard. “And while we’re on the subject of impressionable young girls, Rachel informs me tonight she found us in bed together recently.”
“Oh, that’s interesting. How did you get around that?”
“She fixed it herself. Thought I’d been scared and gone to you for comfort. Then Jasmine informed Rachel that all parents sleep in the same bed, and neither of them were remotely concerned.”
“Good. I think we just ignore it. Whose bed are you in tonight?”
“Mine.”
“Is your door locked?”
“No, it’s not locked. I’m responsible for two little girls in the room next door.”
“I guess I’m not going to talk you out of that T-shirt?”
“That’s right.”
“I was hoping I could break your video phone sex virginity.”
“You’ve had all my virginity, Luther.”
“There’s still your cute ass, sexy Ginger. Rachel’s away all weekend. I’m going to keep you in bed and fuck you to the end of Sunday.”
“Don’t talk filthy, Luther, you’re making me hot.”
He gets his face really close to the screen. “Put your fingers in your pussy and show me if you’re wet.”
I put my face up to the screen and kiss it. “No,” I tell him. “I’ll get all carried away and one of the girls will walk in. Wait until you get home. The anticipation will do you good.”
“You’re a hard woman, Virginia Hough. I want you naked, waiting to greet me on Friday when I return home. I’ll call at breakfast time. I don’t want you playing with your pussy unless I’m there. If I have to wait, you do, too.”
“Likewise, your cock.”
31 ~ GINGER
The rest of the week runs like clockwork. Rachel and I have talked a lot about her staying on the island, Ahunui, for the wee
kend with Stella and Reuben. She’s so excited about that, about the boat trip over, and releasing the kiwi. At school they’ve been learning about the outer islands and how they’re all wildlife sanctuaries, and we’ve watched videos that I’ve taken when I’ve stayed on the island.
Reuben’s a rock star, although he doesn’t perform much these days. He’s built an amazing recording studio on the island and people in New Zealand would be shocked if they knew the artists who slipped into the country, recorded their music and slipped back out again without the news media knowing. We play some of Reuben’s music as we go through videos and photos. I want Rachel familiar with everything so we don’t have to do any rescue trips by boat to bring her home early.
“So all of you kids will go over on the boat after school, and you’ll stay Friday night. Saturday you release the kiwi, and on Saturday night, you’re having a huge bonfire on the beach. If it’s big enough, Luther and I will be able to see it from the boathouse.”
“And I will wave to you.”
“And we’ll wave back. Then, on Sunday morning Luther and I will come over and collect you.”
“Jasmine, too?”
“Yes, darling. Jasmine as well. If it’s a nice day, I’ll bring a picnic.”
“We can show Jasmine the waterfall.”
“Sure, we can.”
***
Friday afternoon I gather with the other parents at the school gate. Stella has come over from the island to escort the kids on the trip back. There are ten of them.
“You’ve got your work cut out for you, Stella,” I say.
She’s perpetually unstressed, despite having four children, including twins who are only a few months old. “I have help,” she says. “Reuben is wonderful. We have a nanny and two au pairs who are with us for three months. Really, I think they’re here in the hope that they’ll meet somebody famous, but they’re hard workers and very experienced. I’m looking forward to the opportunity of teaching these little sponges about the islands.”
“Who’s a sponge?” Her son, Orion, has just burst through the school gate.
“You are, my darling. You soak up everything we teach you.”
“I only pretend,” he says. “When I grow up, I’m going to play drums. You don’t need sums for drums, that’s what Ace Zee told me.”
Stella rolls her eyes. “Not all the visiting bands are ideal role models. Don’t worry, there’s nobody but us on the island right now.”
“Well, all Rachel’s interested in are the kiwi, so I think we’re safe.” Rachel and Jasmine arrive, hands linked as usual. “Oh, and Rachel and Jasmine are conjoined. Don’t worry about trying to separate them, it’s impossible.”
“I’ll sleep them next to each other.”
“That should work.”
I take Rachel’s schoolbag for her as we walk to the car.
“I have something for you from the headmistress,” she says, unzipping her bag and pulling out a folder as we walk. “It’s papers from my other school that I didn’t go to.”
“Okay.”
“You have to give them to Daddy Luther.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Please don’t forget, otherwise I might get in for trouble.”
“I won’t forget, darling. I’ll give them to Luther as soon as he gets home,” I assure her. I remember being Rachel’s age and thinking every piece of paper given to you at school had the potential to get you into vast amounts of trouble if you didn’t pass it on to your parents.
She climbs into the SUV and chatters the whole way to the wharf. “We’re going on a charter boat, and we’ll have an adventure. Did you remember my sleeping bag?”
“Yes. It’s in the back.”
“It’s the same as Jasmine’s.”
It is. We took Jasmine shopping with us yesterday to make sure we got a sleeping bag identical to hers.
Rachel on the wharf, in her life jacket, with her overnight bag and sleeping bag, suddenly looks tiny. I don’t know how the other parents feel, but it tugs a little at my heart, watching her go off without Luther and me.
“Make sure you remember your manners,” I tell her. I think Jasmine’s getting the same advice from her mother, but the two girls are hardly listening. People are boarding the boat and Rachel’s bouncing and pointing, scared she’ll be left behind. I walk Rachel onto the boat and get her seated, and now she’s concerned about the boat leaving with me still on it.
“You have nothing packed, Ginger. And this trip is for children.”
“Don’t worry, I’m leaving now. Give me a kiss.” We hug and kiss around the bulky jacket she wears, and all the parents leave the boat. I stay on the wharf until the boat is a dot out in the middle of the bay before I set off for home.
I’ve planned a romantic dinner tonight for Luther and me. He should be home by six and I want everything perfect. A shoulder of lamb has been slow-roasting in the oven all day. The guy at the wine shop helped me choose a bottle of wine to go with the food. Everything’s prepared, including the vegetables, so my time will be free when Luther arrives home.
The house is spotless, and I’ll only use the lights above the range so that the rest of the kitchen can be candlelit. I’ve set a fire in the dining room, and laid the table with the best silverware, napkins and fresh flowers. I’ve got a gorgeous, fitting dress to wear. No, I won’t be naked as he asked, but I will be wearing a stunning lingerie set he hasn’t seen.
I pick up Rachel’s schoolbag to take up to her room and the folder for Luther drops to the floor spilling the papers inside. I gather them up when a name catches my eye.
Vanessa Hough.
What the hell? I put the papers on the counter. They’re enrolment forms from the Auckland school and among them are Rachel’s vaccination certificate and birth certificate.
It’s the birth certificate that starts my heart pounding.
Child/Tamaiti
First/given names: Rachel Vanessa
Surname/Family name: Angstrom
Mother/Whaea
First/given names: Vanessa May
Surname/Family name: Hough
Father/Matua
First/given names: Luther Ebbe
Surname/Family name: Angstrom
The certificate falls from my hands to the counter. My chest is tight and I’m assaulted by so many emotions that I can hardly pull the information together. I read the certificate again and again, making sure I’m seeing everything correctly.
Luther is Rachel’s father.
My sister, Vanessa, is Rachel’s mother.
Rachel is my niece.
Blood pounds so hard in my head it sounds like the tide is rushing in my ears. I try to be rational but I’m overwhelmed with anger. Luther hid Rachel from us for five years. He knew we would want her. She was ours to raise, not some stranger in Auckland.
How dare he?
And, does Rachel even know that the man she thinks is her guardian is actually her father?
Did he have an affair with Vanessa? For how long did they have a relationship?
My god, I’ve been having sex with my sister’s ex-boyfriend.
A wave of nausea rolls through me and I rush to the sink and dry retch. When I’m finished, I down a glass of water and check the clock.
It’s after five, and I need a lawyer because I will fight that lying, manipulative bastard for custody of my niece.
How fucking dare he even begin to believe that keeping Rachel from her family and having her raised by a stranger in Auckland is the right thing to do?
For such a big house, Ormidale is suffocating me. It has started to rain, but I don’t care. I cannot be here when Luther returns, and he’ll be here soon because the sun is setting and planes can’t land in the dark at the Waitapu airfield.
The key to the Audi is right there but I don’t want another thing from Luther. In the garage I find a coat, and my bike helmet. By the time I get the bike out of the garage the rain has intensified, but I don’t care. I just ha
ve to get away.
How dare he?
32 ~ LUTHER
Small planes in rough weather are not fun. The landing is bumpy, but I’m relieved to be back in Waitapu. I climb from the plane, and pat my pockets to make sure I haven’t left anything on the aircraft. There’s only one thing I care about tonight, and that’s the item I bought for Ginger. She’s going to blow my mind wearing it.
It’s raining. The gravel parking lot has potholes filled with water and my shoes are soaked by the time I reach my vehicle. Inside, I check my pockets again, and laugh at myself. Love is making me cautious.
There’s less traffic than usual on the drive home, and I’m surprised when I pass some crazy person out on a bike. I drive past carefully so as not to drench the cyclist with water, not that it would make much difference, he or she must be saturated.
I turn into my private road and Ormidale looks almost sinister, perched in that imposing way on the clifftop. No wonder Jasmine thought it was haunted. All it needs is a lightning strike to complete the picture. The garage door seems to take an age to rise. I’ve got an odd wedge of anxiety in my chest that won’t leave me until I see Ginger. Two nights to ourselves. I intend to make use of every minute.
The house is quiet. Too quiet. Eerily quiet. I call Ginger’s name down the hallway and my voice returns in a faint echo.
After last night’s conversation, maybe she’s waiting for me, naked, on the bed. I take the stairs two at a time but when I reach the landing, something feels off and I already know she’s not here. Her bedroom door is open, and the room is empty. My bedroom, empty. I check Rachel’s room and the spare rooms, calling for Ginger.
Did Rachel make a fuss at the wharf? Maybe Ginger decided to go over on the charter boat to deliver Rachel to the island? I shoot a quick text off to Reuben to make sure everyone arrived safely. Cell coverage on the island is spotty but if he gets the message he’ll respond.
He answers immediately. Everyone arrived safely, no mention of Ginger.
I know the kitchen is empty even before I enter. Ginger’s not in the house. I’m constantly pushing back panic because her car’s in the garage, and I was certain she’d be waiting for me. Nobody would go for a walk in this weather, and anyway, she’d leave a note, or send me a text if she was going to be out.
