Written in the Stars (6 page)

‘Why not take Kirsty with you?’ he suggested. ‘After you’ve seen Murray, you could spend a bit of time sightseeing.’

Kirsty was delighted with the idea.

‘Hey, I’ve never been to Rotorua,’ she exclaimed excitedly. ‘I’ll get some brochures, eh?’

That evening she ignored her favourite soap on the television and spent the time deciding which attractions in the famous tourist town were the best. Steve pointed out that they wouldn’t be able to visit everything she had circled, but promised to take her out to the Maori village. The idea really excited her, and they left early Friday morning arriving in Rotorua in time for lunch.

While Steve inspected the premises and discussed the layout with Tim Murray, Kirsty went looking for a place that still featured a natural hot-pool. Underground streams ran beneath most of the hotels in the area, but access to them had recently been rescinded to conserve the resources, so she was delighted to find one that had not been affected by the closures.

They dined at the Chevron Hotel that evening, where part of the entertainment package included a group of Maoris who performed some of the traditional dances and songs. When they had finished performing, some of them approached the diners and gave them leaflets advertising a hangi.

‘A hangi… wow.’ Kirsty’s face lit up as she read the pamphlet. ‘Let’s go, eh? There’ll be lots of food and lots of booze, and then we’ll go back to the hotel for a night of sex.’

‘Is that what you get up to with your Maori friends?’

‘Yeah, it’s great fun. No holds barred, everyone whooping it up. Yeah, we have some good times. I went to lots of them.’

‘We are talking past tense, aren’t we?’ Steve watched her face as he spoke.

‘Of course.’ Kirsty’s forced laugh seemed to mock her words. ‘You know I love you, don’t you? And we’re going to be properly married, one day.’ She grabbed his arm and pulled him around to face her. ‘We are going to have a proper wedding, aren’t we? In a church, with all the trimmings?’

Steve nodded, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter the word yes.

After one more drink they got ready for the hangi.

By the time the kitchen staff had laid out the food on the long benches at the far end of the room, Kirsty was almost beside herself with excitement. She heaped her plate high and headed for the nearest vacant table. As Steve sat down beside her, she signalled to the waitress.

‘Can we have some wine?’

‘Would you like to look at the wine list?’

‘No, just bring us a house wine.’

‘Red or white.’

‘One of each, eh?’

Kirsty ate quickly, went back to the buffet and heaped her plate high again, and replenished Steve’s more than once. By the time they got up to go Steve staggered away from the table; he had eaten far too much for comfort. When they returned to the hotel he flopped onto the bed with a groan, while Kirsty disappeared into the bathroom. Two minutes later she came back into the bedroom, pulled her dress over her head and threw it on the chair.

‘Come on Steve, it’s time we got it all together.’

Steve made a half-hearted excuse about being too full, but she would not take no for an answer. When they finally rolled apart, he wondered whether any man had ever fully satisfied her. Maybe those Maoris she used to date had more staying power than me, he thought, as she snuggled into his back. Something she had said about them earlier tugged at his mind, but he couldn’t recall what it was.

I’ll ask her tomorrow, he promised himself, before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter Six

It was mid-morning before Steve felt well enough to face the day, but Kirsty seemed to have suffered no ill effects from the mountain of food and excess of wine she had consumed the night before. She watched him drain another cup of coffee, and laughed.

‘You need a hair of the dog,’ she said, picking up the phone. ‘I’ll order a double brandy with a dash of bitters to fix you up.’

Whether it did him any good was debatable, but Steve had to admit it cut through the bilious haze, and gave him the strength to drive out to Whakarewarewa.

The inhabitants of the authentic Maori village still cooked their food in the traditional way, but there was no sign of activity this morning. A collection of empty pots dangled on bits of wire into the boiling water.

‘Maybe they’re feeling under the weather, too,’ Steve muttered, as they made their way back towards the mud pools. A group of tourists had already gathered around a geyser reputed to erupt at regular intervals. After waiting for about five minutes the guide explained that if the water level was depleted it wouldn’t blow.

‘I’d better give it a bit of hurry up,’ he grinned, upending a container of soap powder into the hole.

The geyser gurgled and spluttered for a few minutes and then, to everyone’s delight, spouted a frothy mixture of steam and soapsuds high into the air.

‘Had enough of this now,’ Kirsty said. ‘Let’s have a bite at that café over there, and then go somewhere else.’

They left the complex and as they headed north away from the invasive sulphurous fumes Steve sighed with relief; he’d never been able to get used the smell that permeated the area.

Kirsty glanced sideways at him as he wound down the window and muttered, ‘Thank goodness we don’t have to put up with that anymore.’

‘Just as well you’re not a Maori, then?’ she chided.

Steve didn’t bother to reply and turned off the main road, following the signs to Waitomo Caves. The seemingly bored guide there gave a potted dissertation about the natural phenomena and then led the way into the bowels of the earth.

It took a while to become accustomed to the darkness as they descended to the underground cavern where the boat waited. But by the time the guide slipped off the mooring ropes and pushed the craft out into the middle of the underground lake, Steve’s eyes had adjusted to the gloom. Everyone on the boat seemed to hold their breath as they gazed at millions of glow-worms clinging to the cavern roof. Those tiny lights created a spectacle beyond description. It was truly magical.

‘That was really something, wasn’t it?’ Kirsty exclaimed, as they emerged into the sunlight again. ‘I’d have sat there for hours, just watching the changing pattern of lights.’

The trip back home was an anti-climax after what they had seen, and neither of them talked very much until they reached the outskirts of Auckland.

‘When are you going to find out if you’ve inherited that fellow’s house in the UK?’ Kirsty asked. ‘What’s the hold-up; do you know?’

‘No idea,’ Steve replied. ‘These things take time. I expect I’ll get a letter from the solicitor in due course.’ He stopped the car and reached out for her hand. ‘It’s been nice having a weekend away together… again,’ he said, quietly. ‘And, apart from eating too much at the hangi, I enjoyed it.’

‘Me too. Let’s go to Wellington next time, eh?’ Kirsty wriggled her body and waggled her outstretched hands to imitate an aeroplane. ‘We could fly. Easier than driving, eh?’

Later that evening Vince asked about the outcome of their trip to Rotorua and was highly amused at how much Kirsty had eaten at the hangi.

‘You should have known better than try to keep up with her,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘She always ate more than you, even as a little girl. Most of the indigenous natives are the same and although she’s only half Maori, she seems to have inherited their hearty appetite.’ Then he became more serious and posed his question quietly. ‘How are things between you? Okay?’

‘I guess so,’ Steve replied. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Your mother seems to think something’s amiss. Is there someone else? She says you were a bit guarded when you talked about your trip to Europe.’

The earnest expression on his father’s face made Steve hesitate before answering. ‘I’m not going to let you and Mum down, if that’s what you’re thinking. I promised to marry Kirsty, and I’ll honour that commitment.’

‘When?’

‘As soon as…’ Steve stopped, and gave a hollow laugh. ‘It’s always been as soon as something or other, hasn’t it? Something stops me, Vince, I don’t know what it is, but I can always justify a delay.’

‘She’s been complaining to your mother since you came home.’

‘What about?’

‘She’s convinced you found someone else there and you don’t love her the same anymore… you know, the usual things women imagine.’ Vince grasped his son’s hand. ‘It’s normal for that initial all-consuming lust to abate. Everyone goes through the stage of ‘can’t get enough’, and then finds out it isn’t the be all and end all of a relationship after all. But Kirsty still thinks it is, or that’s what she implied to Norah.’

‘What am I to construe from that, Vince?’

‘She’s always going to be demanding, son, so it might be better to tie the knot as soon as you can.’ Vince paused to let his words sink in. ‘If she’s married she’ll be less likely to go looking elsewhere for a bit of you-know-what. Marriage will be a deterrent.’ He wrapped an arm around the Steve’s shoulders. ‘Sometimes I wish I hadn’t suggested that you accept that responsibility, but it’s a bit late now; you should have thought carefully before jumping into bed with her.’

‘I know.’ Steve gazed into the older man’s eyes as he continued. ‘But I can understand why you did it, and I don’t hold it against either of you.’

‘Thanks, son, that means a lot to me. Don’t worry, it’ll work out all right.’

At his parents’ suggestion, he agreed to discuss a date for the wedding. Then he reminded them that Kirsty wanted to honeymoon in America, for some seemingly illogical reason, and that meant being away for a least a couple of weeks. He was also concerned about the increasing pressure on Vince to cope without him. The third consideration was just as important—to Kirsty anyway—she wouldn’t get married unless he agreed to leave for the States straight after the ceremony.

Over the next couple of days, Steve thought about his conversation with Vince several times. Had his encounter with Suzi Lysle Spencer altered his relationship with Kirsty? Why should it, he questioned? But deep down he knew it definitely had. Did he love the auburn-haired Welsh beauty? He was reluctant to use the word love, but she had touched something deep inside him, and it was a constant reminder of their rapport. He had considered phoning her a couple of times, but checked the urge when he reminded himself that he had no right to expect her to feel the same way about him.

The pressing workload focused his mind to the exclusion of everything else for the next week, and he stayed late at the factory after Vince had left on several occasions. He had just come home one evening when he heard Kirsty answering the phone. He had no intention to eavesdrop, but it was hard to ignore the excited tone in her voice.

‘Iritana,’ she squealed. ‘Hey, you, when did you get out? Yesterday? Hey, we must get together real soon.’

Steve peeked around the doorway and saw Kirsty nodding her head excitedly. So Iritana had been released from prison? It seemed only yesterday that she was arrested and sentenced. I wonder if her companion is still inside, he thought. What was her name? Then as if in answer to the unspoken question Kirsty squealed again.

‘And Hepora could be home before the end of the month? Oh, that’s great news.’ Her high-pitched laugh made him wince. ‘We’ll celebrate; have a party, eh?’

Not wanting to hear more, Steve walked into the kitchen and poured himself a beer. What did it mean? Was she going to pick up where she left off with her wayward Maori girlfriends again? Would she go missing for whole weekends, as she had done in the past, when their boozy parties spilled over from a Friday night to encompass the next few days as well? This is what Vince and Norah feared would happen if they didn’t get married. But he reasoned that there was no guarantee that marriage would change her.

Kirsty said nothing about the phone call, but Steve was convinced she was aware he had overheard the conversation. The wariness hung over them like a dark cloud, so that when a letter arrived from Mr Duncan a few days later, she eyed him suspiciously. It was as if she thought he was hiding something from her. To allay her fears he handed her the letter.

‘Who’s this Suzi Lysle Spencer he mentions?’ she demanded.

‘It seems she is the other claimant,’ Steve explained. ‘He wouldn’t tell me at the time; kept it a big secret, but it appears we have equal claim to the inheritance.’

‘What does that mean?’

‘We have to share it.’

‘You mean sell the house and split the proceeds?’

‘I don’t know; it has to be resolved,’ Steve replied. ‘When I saw Duncan, he casually suggested that maybe I should approach the other claimant about buying my share of the place. However, I doubt she could afford that.’ Even as he spoke, Steve knew it had been a big mistake to admit that he knew that much about Suzi’s financial situation.’

‘How do y’know she can’t afford it? Is this the Suzi you mumble about in your sleep?’

‘That I what?’

‘I just want to know if it’s the same one?’ Kirsty glared at him. ‘Did you take her to bed?’

Steve stared at her for a long moment before answering. ‘I don’t think you have any right to accuse me of infidelity. Your track record speaks for itself. You have a lot more notches in your belt than I have, even though I’m five years older than you.’

‘That’s not an answer. Did you have it off with her?’

Once again, Steve hesitated. Did he have it off with Suzi? No, not in the context of a casual sexual encounter. It had been entirely different from the sexual experiences he had enjoyed with other women over the years. What he had shared with Suzi wasn’t about sex, it was something deeper. Much deeper. He looked at Kirsty as she waited for his answer.

‘No, I didn’t,’ Steve replied, guardedly. ‘I didn’t have it off with her or anyone else while I was away. Okay?’

As she turned away he felt a pang of guilt. He was pleased that Kirsty hadn’t asked him if they had made love to each other. Technically, it was the same, but he was prepared to argue that it was different if you loved the other person. However, he felt sure that she didn’t believe him.

Kirsty came home late from her reunion with Iritana, and from her condition Steve judged she must have had a lot to drink. He helped her undress and then pushed her under the shower. ‘You smell like you fell into a vat of beer,’ he growled. ‘And wash your hair, too, it’s full of muck.’

She was still sleeping soundly when he left for work the next morning. Neither of them mentioned the episode, but the tension between them crackled like a high voltage transformer on a showery night. And Hepora wasn’t due home for another couple of weeks. When she did reappear, there would be a booze-up to end all booze-ups, because the Maori girl had been her best friend for as long as he could remember.

He and Vince were having a coffee break that morning when the postman dropped a bundle of letters in front of them. They slit each one open and sorted them into piles. Vince sighed and slid an embossed letter across the desk to Steve.

‘Pity about that,’ he said.

The letter was from a company in Kuala Lumpur which had accepted a quote they had submitted some months earlier. The writer stated that due to the economic downturn they were unable to go ahead with the planned project right now, and they gave no indication as to whether they would be prepared to do business in the future.

‘It could be worse,’ Steve said, handing back the letter. ‘At least we haven’t invested too much on the project.’

‘That should free you up for a week or two’

‘To do what?’

‘Get married.’ When Steve didn’t respond, Vince called his attention to another letter. ‘This looks promising. The sugar mill in north Queensland that wanted some new pumping equipment is considering our tender.’ He took another sip of coffee. ‘If we get the contract you might have to oversee the installation.’

‘How soon will you know?’

‘I’ve no idea, but I’d imagine they’ll want it before the next crushing season.’

When Steve arrived home the following Friday afternoon, Kirsty was sitting up on the bed, painting her toenails. She blew him a kiss, and asked how his day had gone. When her toenails were dry, she tossed off the bathrobe she’d been wearing and pulled on a pair of panties. Steve watched her slip into a dress, pull it off again, try another one, and then finally settle for a pair of jeans and a garish, red top.

‘Where are we off to, then?’ he asked.

‘We?’

‘Well, where are
you
off to, then?’ Steve said. ‘It’s quite obvious I’m not invited.’

‘Oh, it’s just a party to welcome Hepora home.’ She tossed her head provocatively. ‘You can come if you want, but I don’t think it’d be a good idea.’

‘Why?’