Survivor (5 page)

‘Of course
I’m not pregnant,’ Mariette said with some indignation. ‘Whatever
gave you that idea?’

‘You did,’ Mog said.
‘Or you think you could be. But the most worrying thing for me is that
you’ve obviously been seeing someone who you know we wouldn’t approve
of. I think you ought to tell me who he is, right now.’

As rebellious as Mariette could be, when
faced with a direct question she usually answered truthfully. She had her jaw
clenched, which suggested to Mog that she was steeling herself against admitting
anything.

‘You know I’ll find
out,’ Mog reminded her. ‘No one can do anything in Russell without
someone passing it on. It’s better to tell me now than to have someone
spiteful telling your mother with the sole intention of upsetting her.’

‘It’s over, so it
doesn’t matter,’ Mariette blurted out. ‘I won’t be seeing
him again.’

‘If he’s someone unsuitable,
then that’s fine. But unless he’s just someone passing through Russell,
it would be hard to avoid him,’ Mog said. ‘But my guess it’s
someone you’ve known for a long time. Is it Carlo Belsito?’

Carlo Belsito was a ferryman. Although
born in New Zealand he had all the hallmarks of his Italian ancestry, with dark
curly hair, spaniel eyes and a physique that few women in Russell could fail to
notice. He was something of a Lothario, and many distasteful stories circulated
about his prowess with women.

‘Carlo!’ Mariette said in
astonishment. ‘What do you take me for, Mog? I despise him.’

‘Well, that’s a
relief,’ Mog chuckled. ‘I’d hate to think you wasted even a minute
of your life on him. So let me think, who else is there?’

‘Let it go, Mog,’ Mariette
pleaded. ‘I’ve told him it’s over. I just want to forget about
him.’

Mog knew that more
could be gained by backing off and coming back to the subject at a later date than
by trying to force the issue now.

‘Fair enough,’ she said.
‘Now, we’ve only got about another fifty pearls left, so let’s try
to sew them on before the light fades.’

She noted that Mariette looked very
relieved at being given a reprieve. Mog was amused that the girl assumed that would
be the end of it.

The following morning Etienne left early
in his truck to pick up some timber from Waitangi, taking Mariette with him. Mog
suspected she’d asked to go in the hope that, during her absence, the
conversation of the previous day would be forgotten.

After the boys had gone off to school,
Belle decided to spring-clean their room. Mog went along to the Reids’ bakery,
as she always did on Mondays. Belle had become friends with Vera Reid, the daughter
of the owners, when they were both ambulance drivers in France, and it was Vera who
encouraged Belle and Mog to emigrate to New Zealand after the war ended.

Vera had moved away to Wellington back
in 1924, and had since got married and had three children, but Mog had remained a
close friend to Peggy, Vera’s mother.

Don, Peggy’s husband, was serving
in the shop as Mog came in, and his face broke into a cheerful grin. He was over
seventy now and looked as if he’d shrunk to half the size of the portly,
energetic man she and Belle had met on their first day in Russell. His youngest son,
Tony, was the baker now – Don was no longer strong enough to lift the heavy trays of
loaves or to knead the dough.

‘Peggy’s out the back in the
wash house. Go on through, if you want to see her. She’ll be glad to have
someone to moan to,’ he said.

Mog thanked him and went through the
doorway that led to both the bakery and their home. The wash house was just
outside their kitchen; the heat from the
boiler, the smell of carbolic soap and the steam hit Mog before she even got to the
wash-house door.

If Don had shrunk, Peggy had expanded.
Always plump, she was now very fat and her hair was snowy white. She was standing at
the copper, prodding the washing with the copper stick, perspiration running down
her fiery red cheeks. But her big face broke into a toothless smile at seeing her
friend.

‘Come to watch slave
labour?’ she said.

‘I bet you can’t wait for
the day the electric comes to Russell,’ Mog said. ‘I know I’m
never going to miss lighting the fire under our copper, or trimming and filling
lamps.’

Peggy pulled up her pinafore and wiped
her face. ‘Too right. I’m too old for all this drudgery. Our
Vera’s got one of those new-fangled electric boilers, it’s got a mangle
that turns by itself. What I’d give for one of those! But let me get us a
drink and we’ll sit outside for a chat, shall we?’ Peggy got two glasses
of lemonade for them, and they sat down in the yard under the shade of a fig
tree.

They chatted about this and that for a
little while, Peggy saying she was planning a little holiday with Vera soon.
‘Why don’t you and Belle come too?’ she asked. ‘Vera’s
got plenty of room, and she’d be thrilled to see you both.’

‘I could come, but Belle
won’t leave the boys,’ Mog said. ‘You know how they are – up to
mischief if you don’t stand over them.’

Peggy nodded. ‘I remember what
mine were like – little sods, they were – and Vera was no better than the boys. But
when they were all away in the war, I’d have given anything to have them back
playing me up. I reckon that’s why I’ve got so fat. Nothing to worry
about any more!’ She cackled with laughter, making her many chins quiver.

‘Just
between ourselves, have you heard any tittle-tattle about Mariette?’ Mog
asked. ‘She’s been seeing a boy, but won’t tell me who he is.
That’s always a bad sign.’

Peggy thought about it for a moment.
‘There was a mention of that Australian. You know, the one who was part of the
crew on the boat that came in for repairs last year?’ she said.
‘He’s hauling timber now, but he comes here every now and again. Avril
Avery claimed she saw them out for a walk, holding hands. But then she’d
accuse the Pope of giving poisoned lollies to Shirley Temple!’

Mog laughed at Peggy’s joke about
Avril Avery, who was the eyes and ears of the little town. Yet although she was a
gossip, Avril was not a liar, so she must have seen Mari and that man together.
‘I dare say Mari will tell us when she’s good and ready. But I’d
better collect the bread and go on home. Thanks for the lemonade, and I’ll let
you know about going to see Vera with you.’

Mog was too disturbed by what Peggy had
said to go straight home. Instead, she went down on the Strand and sat for a while
looking out to sea to reflect on it. She had seen the man in question several times,
hanging around near their house, but it had never occurred to her that he might be
after Mari because he was far too old for her. There had been a lot of talk about
him too – tales of drunkenness, fighting, playing around with a couple of Maori
girls – and as he slept in a tent when he was in town, and not in the hotel,
goodness knows what else he got up to.

What if Mari was pregnant by him, and
that was why she looked so troubled?

Tears ran down Mog’s cheeks at
that possibility.

‘What is it, Mog?’ Belle
asked during the afternoon. She had been busy upstairs all morning. Once she’d
finished up there,
she’d joined Mog
in the workroom to finish trimming a hat. Mog had a length of gingham spread out on
the cutting table in front of her, but so far she hadn’t even touched it.
‘You’ve been staring into space for ages.’

Mog started. ‘What did you
say?’

Belle repeated herself. ‘If
you’ve got a problem, tell me,’ she added.

Mog looked up at Belle’s concerned
face. Not for the first time, she wondered how it was that, at forty-three, she had
managed to remain so youthful looking and had kept her figure intact. There were
some grey hairs amongst the dark, and a few lines around her eyes, but Belle was
still a head turner.

‘I was thinking about Noah’s
last letter, when he suggested it might be good for Mari to visit
England.’

‘And? When you read it, you said
that he must be nuts suggesting such a thing when war is threatened.’

‘I know, but everyone – and Noah
too, for that matter – is saying that it will be averted, and I got to thinking it
wasn’t such a bad idea. He is Mari’s godfather, after all, and
he’s got a beautiful home, with so many useful connections. His influence
could only be for the good. Mari needs work, and there’s none here. And you
know what they say about Satan finding work for idle hands.’

Belle looked at Mog with narrowed eyes.
‘What brought this on? Do you know something?’

‘No, I just think that she’s
got a very aimless life. She told me she wanted to go to Auckland, but not into
nursing. We don’t know anyone in Auckland to keep an eye on her. I just
thought maybe London and Noah would be good for her.’

‘I agree that she needs something
more than just a bit of sewing and helping with the boys,’ Belle said, sitting
down across the cutting table from Mog. ‘But to send her to the other side of
the world!’

‘Yes, I
know, it’s a bit extreme. But we can count on Noah and Lisette to take good
care of her, and their daughter will be company for her. Think of the opportunities
there would be there for her.’

‘And all the opportunities to get
into trouble,’ Belle pointed out. ‘Now, tell me what brought this on. I
know that you would never suggest sending Mari away unless you thought something bad
was going to happen to her here. So what is it?’

Mog pursed her lips. She always forgot
that Belle was as good at reading people as she herself was. Now she was stuck;
having started this, she’d have to continue, even if that meant telling tales
on Mari.

‘Tell me!’ Belle ordered
her. ‘If Mari is in some kind of trouble, I have a right to know.’

‘Oh, Belle,’ Mog implored
her. ‘It’s one of those situations where I’ll be damned if I tell
you my fears, and damned if I don’t. You and Etienne will fly off the handle
if I’m right, and possibly make things worse. If I’m wrong, Mari will
never talk to me again. Anyway, I’m not even sure there is a real
situation.’

Belle said nothing for a few moments.
She picked up a pincushion and began arranging the pins in neat rows.

‘Right!’ Belle said
eventually. ‘We both know you are very intuitive, so the chances are that
you’re right about whatever you fear. So why don’t you tell me? We can
mull it over together calmly, and then decide how we deal with it. Mari won’t
need to know you said anything.’

Mog took a deep breath and then blurted
out that she was afraid Mari had been seeing the blond sailor in secret.

Belle turned pale. ‘Heaven help
us,’ she exclaimed. ‘I didn’t see that one coming! I knew, of
course, that the man had come back to Russell – you can hardly miss him – but
Mari’s never mentioned him.’

‘The best
way to put us off the scent,’ Mog sniffed. ‘But bear in mind that I
haven’t got any proof he’s the man she has been seeing. She also said
it’s over. But the way she was behaving yesterday, I suspect she’s
worried about something.’

‘Maybe she was just afraid of him
coming here? We all know Etienne would tear a man like that limb from limb, if he
thought he’d taken liberties with his daughter. Do you really think they have
been …?’ She paused, unable to finish her question.

‘Yes, I do think they’ve
been doing it,’ Mog said bluntly. ‘A man of his age and type isn’t
likely to waste time on a girl who won’t cooperate. Besides, she’s had
something on her mind for some little while now – easily distracted, and off with
the fairies too.’

‘Etienne will kill him!’
Belle exclaimed, as all the implications sank in.

‘You see why I thought it would be
a good idea to send her to London?’ Mog asked. ‘If Avril told Peggy
she’d seen them together, you can bet she’s told others too. And that
lout may have boasted he’d had his way with her too. You know what people are
like around here. If this gets out – and it’s sure to – she’ll be seen
as shop-soiled goods, and that might make her find someone even more
disreputable.’

Belle leaned on the cutting table, her
head in her hands. ‘Well, I certainly know what it’s like to be the one
everyone is talking about. Remember all the nasty stuff that was said about me when
Etienne arrived here? Even now, donkey’s years later, some women still think
their husbands aren’t safe with me around. Some things you just can’t
live down.’ She looked at Mog fearfully. ‘What was she thinking
of?’

‘You, of all people, should know
that girls don’t think at such times,’ Mog said tartly.

Belle blushed at the oblique reference
to her affair with
Etienne in France,
while she was still married to Jimmy Reilly. ‘I thought I’d done the
right thing by telling her the facts of life and how girls have to protect
themselves by waiting till they get married,’ she retorted. ‘But perhaps
I should have been like other mothers and told her sex was something to be
endured.’

‘I doubt whether that would have
made any difference,’ Mog said. ‘Mari is as hot-headed as both you and
Etienne; she’s never listened to advice or abided by any rules. In my opinion,
this has come about because she has too little to do. Boredom creates a fertile
ground for wrongdoing.’

‘What are we to do, Mog?’
Belle pleaded.

‘We can pray she isn’t
pregnant, for a start. But I can’t see how we can keep this from Etienne. To
do so would make Mari think we are condoning her behaviour. She has behaved like a
little trollop, and she has to face up to the consequences of that.’

Belle winced at Mog’s harsh words.
‘Oh, Mog,’ she sighed. ‘Once I’d married Etienne and we were
all living so happily here, I really thought there would never be any bad times
again for any of us. Now this!’

Mog reached across the table and took
Belle’s hand to comfort her. ‘It might not be as bad as I fear, but the
fact remains that we must do something. If we try to keep her under lock and key
here, she’ll just rebel. Maybe she could get an office job or shop work in
Auckland, but she’s too young to be without some sort of
supervision.’

‘You’re right,’ Belle
agreed. ‘But England seems so drastic, and so far away. Noah and Lisette are
ideal in so many ways, parents themselves, and worldly enough to be aware of the
dangers young girls can get into. They would be a good influence too, and
inspiration for Mari. But how could we let her go?’

‘You coped
in America, under hideous circumstances, and you were far younger than Mari. But
before we give that any serious consideration, we need to get the truth out of her,
and I think that must be in Etienne’s hearing.’

‘Perhaps we’ve got it all
wrong?’ Belle said hopefully.

‘Pigs might fly!’ Mog
retorted. ‘We’ve both got too much experience of girls going astray to
hope for a more innocent explanation. We should do it tonight, after the boys have
gone to bed.’

Belle and Mog put their anxieties about
Mariette on hold when the rest of the family arrived home. They all had supper
together, and Mog saw the two boys off to bed just after seven. When she came
downstairs, Etienne was still sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper
while Mog and Mariette finished off the washing-up.

Mariette hung up the tea towel to dry
and then went to leave the room.

‘You can come back in here, and
close the door,’ Belle said sharply.

‘Why?’ Mariette asked.
‘I was only going to get a book to read.’

‘We have things we need to talk
about,’ Belle said. ‘Now, sit down there by your papa.’

‘What is this?’ Etienne put
down his newspaper and looked at Belle in puzzlement.

‘Mari has something to tell
you,’ Belle said. ‘In fact, she has something to tell us all. Come on,
Mari, we want the name of this boy you’ve been seeing!’

Etienne was fond of saying he was an old
man now but, at fifty-eight, he still had all his hair, his body was lean and fit,
his eyes had lost none of their sparkle, and he was still as strong as a horse.

‘You’ve been unusually helpful today – has that got something to do with
this?’ he said, looking hard at his daughter.