Authors: Deborah Challinor
‘See, I told you she was a clever little girl!’ Kitty said delightedly.
‘Well, I can’t argue with that,’ Mrs Fleming replied, very pleased that she would no longer have to scrub her rugs.
But late that night someone came to the door with news that almost froze Kitty’s heart. She was a Maori woman with a demeanour thoroughly unlike any of the others who had responded to the poster.
‘I have information about the child,’ she said without preamble when Kitty answered the door. She was a tall, handsome woman, with the chin moko that denoted considerable rank. She also spoke excellent English. ‘I believe she is the daughter of my niece.’
Warily, Kitty asked, ‘Can you tell me, has she any—’
‘Yes,’ the woman interrupted briskly, ‘she does. She has a namu, a birthmark, on her back. In the shape of a heart.’
A bolt of pain lanced Kitty’s chest and her eyes filled with hot, stinging tears. She swallowed and clutched at the doorframe for support, struggling to accept that the worst had happened, that she was about to lose Amber.
She swallowed again, the lump in her throat burning like a hot coal. ‘Well, what was she doing wandering around on her own like that? What was she doing
all by herself?!
’ she suddenly blurted, wanting to lash out at this woman who had brought such awful news. Then, with an almighty effort, she composed herself. ‘I beg your pardon,’ she said stiffly. ‘One moment, please. I will fetch her for you.’
But the woman reached out and grasped her sleeve. ‘No. You do not understand. I do not want her back. I want you to keep her, and to take her away from here if you can.’
Kitty could not understand what she was saying. ‘But…you said she has a mother.’
‘No, I said she is the daughter of my niece. My niece is not fit to be a mother.’ The woman’s face remained expressionless. ‘The child’s father was a Pakeha. He…defiled my niece. She became insane because of it. No one in my hapu would look after the child because they feared they would also become tainted by the madness. I include myself in this. We gave her food, but she slept in a hut by herself. Then, a year ago, she ran away.’ The woman sighed and dropped her gaze. ‘She cannot come back to my village, but my heart is heavy because of what we have done to her. I have recently been baptised and I have asked the Lord Jesus Christ for guidance, and He has advised me what to do. So please, take her and give her a better life than the one we inflicted upon her. I believe it is God’s will.’
Kitty suddenly felt so light-headed she knew she had to sit down, and subsided in a heap of skirts on the hallway floor.
Unperturbed, the woman looked down at her. ‘So, will you take her?’
‘Yes. I will,’ Kitty answered hoarsely. ‘Do you want the five pounds?’
‘No. Thank you.’
And she turned to go, but stopped when Kitty said, ‘Wait. What is her name? What did you call her?’
Over her shoulder, the woman said quietly, ‘We never gave her a name.’
Kitty stayed where she was and watched as the Maori woman walked away into the darkness. Then she started to cry.
K
itty tore open Rian’s letter while she was still in the post office and read it immediately before folding it again, thoughtfully, and slipping it into her reticule.
‘Any news?’ Simon asked, when she reappeared. He and Amber had been sitting on the verandah, waiting.
‘Yes, although it’s much the same as we’ve already read in the newspaper. The British returned to Kororareka with the usual pomp and ceremony and now Hulme’s marching overland after Heke. He’s landed his force at Onewhero Bay.’
‘
Does
Heke have a new pa at Puketutu?’
‘Yes, it seems so,’ Kitty replied.
‘Puketutu’s a fair march inland,’ Simon remarked. ‘And a difficult one, for soldiers not accustomed to the bush.’ Kitty hadn’t mentioned the last part of Rian’s letter:
We knew of the landing place because the wife of one of Waka’s men has a cousin married to someone at Pukera, and naturally it came to Haunui’s ears. So we travelled overnight by waka to Onewhero, went ashore, found a comfortable vantage point and watched as Her Majesty’s finest trudged off inland, laden with ammunition and provisions and hampered from the outset by the weight of several 3 lb rockets from the
Hazard
. Mick has bet they will manage ten miles by nightfall, although I have wagered only seven as the Weather looks certain to deteriorate. The quicker, though perhaps more challenging, route would have been to head inland from Hararu, but of course it is not my place to offer such advice
.
I will write again when I can. I miss you very much, mo ghrá, but I still believe that you are, for the meantime, safer in Auckland
.
Your Loving Husband,
Rian
Kitty was silent for some time. Then she said, ‘Simon, I think it’s time we went back.’
Simon had been dreading this moment for almost ten weeks, but now the prospect of returning to the Bay of Islands somehow didn’t feel quite as daunting as he had imagined. Nevertheless, he said gloomily, ‘Rian won’t be pleased.’
‘Well, I’m not pleased about being stuck in Auckland.’
‘What will you do?’ Simon asked, digging in his pocket for a bag of lemon drops and offering them to Amber. ‘When you get back, I mean?’
‘Leave the two younger members of our party with Aunt Sarah, and try to find Rian.’
‘You don’t have to talk in code, you know. I doubt she can under stand you,’ Simon said, inclining his head at Amber, who was busy trying to accommodate five lemon drops in her mouth at once.
Kitty held a gloved hand beneath the girl’s chin to catch the inevitable spillage. ‘Don’t be too sure about that. Sometimes I think she understands more than we realise. Or more than
you
realise.’
Simon frowned. ‘Will she be happy staying with your aunt, do you think? She’s already had a lot of changes.’
‘I know. It
is
bothering me. I really don’t want to leave her
at Paihia. But she’s only a child, I can’t go dragging her from battleground to battleground.’
Simon looked alarmed. ‘But you won’t be going near any battlegrounds, will you?’
‘If Rian is, then I am,’ Kitty said simply. ‘But Haunui and Tahi will be at Paihia and I’m sure they’ll help. And you’ll keep an eye on her, won’t you? She knows you. Perhaps you can come in from Waimate now and then?’
She glanced at Amber, who, sucking noisily, was now busy filling the pockets of her pinafore with gravel. Would she think she had been abandoned again? The words of the Maori woman echoed in Kitty’s head: ‘My heart is heavy because of what we have done to her.’ If only there were some way to know how Amber was feeling. Physically, she had changed noticeably: her hair was clean and shiny, the ringworm that had marked her body was clearing up, and she had put on some much-needed weight. And she seemed happy enough, playing with Bodie and with Kitty and Simon and the other women in the house. But sometimes there were tears and tantrums, and she still awoke on the floor under Kitty’s bed each morning. And, from time to time, Kitty had seen something in the child’s eyes, a look of mistrust and suspicion.
Simon followed Kitty’s gaze, and gave a regretful sigh. ‘Actually, no, Kitty, I can’t keep an eye on her.’
Kitty blinked. ‘Why not?’
Simon stood up and brushed off the seat of his trousers. ‘Because I’m coming with you. Rian asked me to look after you, and that’s what I’m going to do.’
‘But what about Waimate? What about your duties there?’
‘They’re managing now, I’ve no doubt, so they can manage for another month or two without me.’
Not caring who was looking, Kitty kissed Simon’s cheek and hugged him tightly. ‘Oh Simon, my lovely friend,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
Kitty was absurdly pleased. She had been steeling herself to strike out from Paihia on her own to find Rian, because she knew she couldn’t bear to be separated from him any longer, and the thought of him gallivanting all over the north getting into God only knew what sort of trouble terrified her. She felt as she had during the short battle at Kororareka, only now her fear had multiplied tenfold. This time there were many more soldiers involved and what had started off as a local skirmish was becoming a fully-fledged war. But with Simon at her side, she knew she would find the strength to do what she had to do to reunite her small family.
However, there were preparations to be made before they left Auckland. Four days after she’d come to her decision, Kitty and Simon walked with Flora late one afternoon to an area of sloping, fenced paddocks bordering Hobson Street. In one paddock stood two horses, a grey and a bay.
‘Will they suffice?’ Flora asked. ‘They’re properly schooled.’
Kitty gathered her skirts and rather laboriously climbed the fence, then approached the horses. The grey was a very fine mare, around sixteen hands high, and her slightly concave nose suggested she had Arab blood in her veins. The bay, a gelding, stood a little taller, and was also a beautifully built animal. Kitty ran her hands expertly along their flanks and up and down their elegant legs, and smiled. It had been a long time since she’d had much to do with horses, and their comforting smell brought back memories of riding out along Norfolk lanes on her mare, a pastime that had both soothed and invigorated her. It would be wonderful to be back in the saddle again.
Flora came up behind her, followed rather more cautiously by Simon. ‘I had arranged the mare a month ago,’ she said. ‘But then when you said you wanted two animals, I had to ask my friend to find another one.’
Kitty nodded. This was the favour she had asked of Flora: that she use her ‘contacts’ to procure a horse suitable for crosscountry riding, a horse that was strong, fit and reliable enough to trail British regiments and Maori war parties across the rugged terrain of the upper North Island. ‘Were they expensive?’ she asked, stroking the bay’s velvety nose.
‘Very,’ Flora replied. ‘Apparently prime horseflesh is hard to find in this town. But that’s not a problem, is it?’
‘No. And were you able to get the tack I wanted?’
‘It will be delivered to the boarding house tonight. And I’m glad you didn’t ask for a side-saddle. My friend said they’re more scarce than hen’s teeth at the moment.’
Kitty noticed that Simon was contemplating the horses with a very odd look on his face. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘Is one of those for me?’ he asked nervously.
‘Yes. You can have the bay, I think, as you’re taller.’
Simon swallowed. ‘Well, thank you,’ he said, ‘but actually, I don’t know how to ride a horse.’
Flora burst out laughing.
Kitty didn’t. ‘Oh Simon, you must, surely? Everyone can ride a horse!’
‘Everyone with money enough to afford one,’ Simon amended ruefully. ‘I’ve never had that, and I’ve always walked everywhere.’
‘Well, it’s time to remedy that then, isn’t it?’ Kitty declared firmly. ‘And as time is short, I think we’ll start tomorrow morning, don’t you?’
Simon’s expression remained one of extreme misgiving.
‘It’s easy, really,’ Kitty insisted. ‘It’s just a matter of confidence and a touch of balance. You’ll see.’
Simon’s first riding lesson was a disaster, albeit a very entertaining one. He, Kitty and Amber set out for Hobson Street the next
morning, Kitty happily anticipating being on horseback again, Amber catching the mood and bouncing about excitedly, and Simon dreading what lay ahead.
Kitty had prevailed upon Mrs Fleming’s neighbour, a man named Joshua Leach, to transport the saddles, bridles and other paraphernalia in his horse and cart. Unfortunately for Simon, his three children, who did not attend school, came along for the ride, sensing that something interesting was about to take place.
‘You don’t mind, do you?’ Mr Leach said as he hoisted his youngest child up onto the cart. ‘It’s just that the wife has had a gutsful of them under her feet, and it’s washing day and she thought they might like a look at the nice horses.’
Although aware of Simon’s discomfort, Kitty felt she couldn’t really say no, as Joshua Leach was providing the transport and his services free.
When they arrived at the paddock, the three Leach children tumbled off the cart and ran to climb the fence, perching themselves along the top rail like sparrows on a clothesline. Amber, however, slipped through the fence and walked straight up to the horses.
Kitty’s heart missed a beat as the little girl wove between them, her hand trailing along their gleaming sides, and walked only inches from their hind legs, a kick from which could easily kill her.
‘Amber!’ she called. ‘Amber, come away from there!’
But as usual Amber ignored her, and ducked under the grey’s belly, emerging on the other side with a wide grin on her face.
‘Oh God,’ Kitty muttered, and prepared to climb the fence to fetch her back.
‘No, leave her,’ Simon said. ‘I think she’s all right. I think she’s enjoying herself.’
Reluctantly, Kitty had to agree as she watched Amber run
her small hands down the bay’s nose and rub her cheek against his soft, rubbery lips.
‘Your little girl’s naughty, isn’t she, missus?’ the youngest Leach child, a girl of about five, said delightedly. ‘Are you going to smack her bottom?’
Her light-brown hair was tangled and the bib of her pinafore was stained with whatever it was she’d had for breakfast. Clearly Mrs Leach had been in a hurry to get them out of the house.
‘No, she hasn’t done anything wrong,’ Kitty said.
‘But you told her to come away,’ the child insisted. ‘You said to her, “Come away from there,” and she didn’t.’
‘Never mind,’ Kitty said brightly, leaning into the cart for one of the saddles.
But the questions continued. ‘Is she deaf, your little girl? And why is she brown and you’re—’
The eldest Leach child, a boy, said, ‘Shut up, Annabel.’
‘I only
said
—’ Annabel began.
‘Annabel,’ her father said sharply, ‘if you can’t be quiet, you can go and sit on that log over there. By yourself.’