Authors: Jenny Pattrick
‘Oh dear,’ she gasps, helpless to stop the earthquake within. ‘I didn’t want this.’
Simone hands her a handkerchief. ‘My dear, this is natural. I expected such a thing. Come. We’ll sit here for a while.’
There’s a little wooden bench, just like her one at home, set under a tree. They sit side by side, watching a cheeky blackbird pecking at the patch of grass at their feet. From time to time Simone reaches a freckled, bony hand to pat Jeanie’s knee. She says nothing for a while then begins quietly.
‘Elena asked us – Hamish and I – to come and share her triumphant surprise. That woman! Not always so sensitive. But she has found you and that is very, very good. Perhaps you needed to be found?’ She looks shrewdly at Jeanie, ‘Perhaps at the moment you think not. But we all need our past, no? It must have been difficult to disappear so thoroughly; to say goodbye to all that life, as you have done?’
Jeanie’s sobs are diminishing slowly, but the eyes still leak. She nods, shakes her head; nods again, unable to speak.
‘Hamish, by the way, has not come. He said to send his love, but he thought that I would be more than enough on my own! That rude man.’
Jeanie nods, glad of Hamish’s kindness. She could not have coped with him as well. His knowledge.
‘So. You are found and Stuart is dead. We read the news – so horrible. Even in death he could not leave you alone. The papers made a small story of it. I can imagine much, much more, you poor soul.’
She takes from her purse an envelope and hands it to her. ‘Hamish asked that you have this.’ She hesitates, fingering the envelope, then bursts out, ‘Jeanie, I can feel that inside is a key. Tell me because my Hamish is tighter than a clam – is this by any chance the key to your old house in Apia?’
Jeanie smiles at Simone’s obvious curiosity. ‘I expect it will be.’
Simone cries out. ‘So! That man has known where you are all this time? Has looked after your affairs?’ Her French accent blossoms in her mock fury. ‘Wait till I confront that wretch my husband!’
‘He didn’t know, Simone, don’t be angry with him. He knew my bank account in Wellington, that’s all. He’s looked after the house.’
‘And ours too! Jeanie my darling, we are still neighbours in Samoa! While we still live, of course.’ She frowns for a moment looking at her wrinkled hands.
Jeanie suddenly feels such warmth towards this old friend. ‘Hamish has been very kind. I needed him to be discreet.’
‘But from me! No, I could have looked after you too! You must have longed for good friends.’
Jeanie smiles. ‘Yes, yes I suppose I did. At first. I suppose I have always wanted to ask a friend if I was doing the right thing.’ She looks quickly at Simone, afraid that she has said too much. Simone looks closely at her; nods as if in response to something she has discovered.
Jeanie’s heart lurches to think what this formidable old lady might say next.
‘I hope you have treasured still a few good memories of those dear islands?’
‘Yes,’ Jeanie says quietly, surprising herself. ‘I thought I had managed to bury them, but recently they have returned. The smell of frangipani blossoms!’
Simone chuckles. ‘And of scented coconut oil on handsome brown bodies! Oh chérie, if only I was young again!’
‘And palusami fresh from the umu.’
‘Palusami!’ Simone cries. ‘Don’t torture me. I have tried every way to make it here. It’s not the same.’ After a moment she adds. ‘And beautiful Palolo Deep.’
Jeanie nods, thinking of that other palolo.
‘You will go back one day,’ says Simone. ‘That is for the future, perhaps. For the present – food. You must build your strength, for all that will come. Elena has prepared enough for an army, and I myself have brought some good healthy things from our garden. Shall we go in now?’
As they climb the steps to the house Simone says, ‘That Teo – such a wild young boy – and now so different, so serious. Hamish says he is a good leader for Samoa. We will see how he manages a new daughter. You mustn’t let him and Elena engulf her.’
Jeanie smiles at last. ‘She’s quite strong willed. I think Fran will manage to choose her own way.’
‘Good.’ Simone stops to kiss Jeanie lightly on her cheek. ‘Just like her mother.’
… ‘But surely,’ Jeanie continued, ‘in some
circumstances, the truth would be too painful?’
‘Life is painful,’ Aunt Mary answered, a little sharply.
‘Best get to know that early.’
Jeanie couldn’t leave the argument; wanted to, but
found the words had a will of their own. The need for
absolution rose like a bubble through all her long-held
repressions. ‘What if it had been true, Aunt Mary?
What if Dad’s birth was the result of rape and violence?
Wouldn’t it be better, then, to hide it from him?’
Aunt Mary shifted in her chair impatiently. ‘I have no
interest in hypotheticals. It’s more than enough coping
with what is in front of your face. Surely, Jeanie, you
can find some real problems without fussing about the
past? More tea?’
‘Ai muamua ona tautala ai lea | eat first, talk later |
‘aiga | extended family |
aualuma | the group of unmarried young women who attend the village taupou |
auoi tafefe! | expression of surprise and dismay |
afakasi | half caste |
ali‘i | high chief |
Inu au fualaau | Take your pills |
O Ani o la‘u uo | well then Ani my friend |
ue! | interjection (of surprise) |
umu | traditional Samoan oven using hot stones; the food covered with wet banana leaves |
fa‘afetai lava | thank you very much |
fa‘asamoa | the traditional Samoan way |
faipule | titled orator |
fautasi | large canoe used for ceremonial occasions |
fiafia | party |
Fono | Parliament |
fale | open-sided thatched house |
falelaeti‘iti‘i | small hut on poles over the lagoon, used as a toilet |
kilikiti | Samoan cricket, played with a three-sided bat and any number of players |
lavalava | cloth tied around the waist, covering the legs – man or woman |
lei | a garland of flowers, shells, seeds – or even sweets |
loa | a tree whose seeds are used for dye |
lo taua mea lilo | our secret place |
masi | a food made from fermented green bananas |
Masiofo | honorific given to a woman of highest rank |
matai | titled leader |
moso‘oia | type of tree |
mumu | loose-fitting tent-dress for women |
nu‘u | village |
paopao | dug-out canoe with small outrigger |
palagi | white person |
palolo | the sexual part of a reef worm – a delicacy |
palusami | delicacy made with young taro leaves and coconut cream |
patele | priest |
pisupo | tinned corned beef |
pule | dignity, power (of a leader) |
puletasi | tight-fitting two-piece dress for women |
sa‘ofa‘i | ceremony of handing over title |
sau! | come! |
soifua! | May you live! |
sene | cent |
siva | a dance performed by women |
Susuga | a polite way of addressing a titled person |
taupou | village virgin: a ceremonial position |
teine | girl |
tala | dollar |
talofa lava | hello |
tama | man |
Tama a ‘aiga | most high-born families in Samoa |
tapalolo | fishing for palolo |
taro | a large root vegetable, always served on special occasions |
A BLACK SWAN BOOK published by Random House New Zealand, 18
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First published 2010
© 2010 Jenny Pattrick
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ISBN 978 1 86979 307 4
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