

# ANOTHER THROW OF THE DICE

Mary Clare Morganti

Published by Vista Publishing at Smashwords

maryclaremorganti@yahoo.co.nz

Copyright 2014 Mary Clare Morganti

Dedicated to the Memory of Louis Morganti

## Chapter 1

The late model Japanese car passed on the other side of the hot tar- sealed road, heading for the hills. Its number indicated a member of the diplomatic corps going home for a long tropical lunch.

'Lucky slob!' Min hoisted her flax kit full of market produce as she flapped along in her missionary sandals under the leaden sun. Utility vehicles and windowless buses also passed her with their full complement of big brown fleshy elbows protruding like shipped oars. Another smart car and another, with their expatriate contents cocooned in air-conditioned comfort mocked her sweaty discomfort and she snarled again,

'But for the grace of God, there go I.'

The idea came from deep in her consciousness and she suddenly seemed to understand something about herself. Indeed, was it that "grace" which had brought her to this place and this moment? While she was distracted for some moments by this insight, a voice from the other side of the road called,

'Bye Bye.'

She looked across and saw a small girl sitting in the grass and smiling. Min smiled back and waved. As she trudged the last few metres to what she would call home for the next few years, she hoped for other compensating moments like these.

*****

Outside, the night was pulsing with scuttles and swishes conveyed through the open louvres to where Min was sitting in a circle of light at a large table which was work station, meal table and occasional ironing board. She was nervous, on edge. The opaque blackness beyond the spotlight where she was trying to hatch embryonic ideas for her teaching programme, was slowly being peopled by voyeurs on the prowl for sport. Why there were no coverings for the windows had not been explained and she had assumed politely that she should accept local custom. After all, this was the third world and hardship was the name of the game. That had been made pretty clear by the volunteer organisation which basked vicariously in the virtue of its recruits. Living as much as possible like the locals would bring untold rewards of cultural enrichment. Ah, yes.

She was struggling with these thoughts and getting nowhere with a teaching strategy when there was a soft knock on the outside wall. She jumped and then froze. In reply to another knock, she called through a constricted throat,

'Who is it?'

'It's only me.' The soft American voice was a relief.

'Oh Polly - hang on a sec.'

She found the bunch of keys, most of which opened things at home in New Zealand, and unlocked the front door and the wire screen. Polly switched off her torch and said,

'I hope I didn't scare you. You need drapes for those windows so you've got some privacy.'

'I have to get used to it because curtains - or drapes, as you call them - might be a bit of a luxury. Then there's the heat factor.' (That thought had only just come to her.)

Polly sat down on one of the huge wooden cushionless chairs and grimaced.

'And these things remind me of some medieval banqueting hall built for an overweight king.' She laughed and her teeth reminded Min secretly of a medieval portcullis.

'We've got some spare cushions you can have. Total martyrdom isn't called for you know. As I said to Jim I intend to enjoy myself in paradise but he thinks we have to live like the local people as far as possible. He cooks taro every day and says I'll get to like it.'

Min went to the kitchen to heat some water for coffee. She had some ginger biscuits which a friend had sent in a food parcel and which had survived the scrutiny of the customs men. Polly followed her out to the kitchen and told her the reason for her visit.

'It's partly because we wanted to invite you to a party at our place but also I wanted to prove to Jim that I m not scared of the dark. I'll admit to you though, that I've never experienced blackness quite like this. Without the torch I'd be utterly blind.'

Polly went on to say that they wanted to get to know some of the newcomers like themselves, as well as some locals.

'Do you think you can make it? Also, there'll be an American naval ship in town and Jim wants to issue an invitation to the crew but I'm dead against the idea. As I pointed out to him we're Peace Corps and it's hardly appropriate for us to entertain the military.'

Min was aware of the arrival of a nuclear ship in the quiet little harbour and was thinking of writing a letter to the local paper about its sinister hegemony. She didn't want to offend Polly, so she simply suggested that she let her know what was decided; Polly assured her that she'd persuade Jim not to go ahead with his idea.

'There'll be an official reception by the Peace Corps anyway, crazy as it seems to me. Jim says I'm naïve and we're all part of a propaganda machine. At the same time he says we're all buddies in a foreign country so...' Polly raised her eyebrows and jerked her head sideways as if to disclaim the idea.

'Anyway, I'd better get back to the afore-mentioned or he'll think I've been abducted. I talked him into letting me come on my own also because I didn't want to carry on our argument here.'

Min thanked Polly for offering her a diversion from her solo performance and she offered to go some of the way back in the pitch dark, but Polly said thanks but no thanks ('I'm halfway through my experiment') and she was determined not to let the early tropical curfew cramp her style.

'As soon as we come to some accommodation,' she said, splitting the word syllabically in an attempt at poshness, 'I'll be in touch.' She gave Min a hug and followed her torch beam into the opaque night.

Min felt cheered by Polly's visit and the possible sharing of ideas in the future when they knew each other better. Whether she went to the party or not, she would make sure they met again before long.

She rinsed the coffee things, turned out the light and then sat cross- legged on the couch, invisible. As well as the expected swishes in the undergrowth there was the occasional screech of bats, the mythical creatures of her childhood. Their association with disturbing fairy-tales reinforced her awareness that she had left her comfort zone and she now felt alone and homesick.

Her mind wandered back to the moment of decision to come to this place. The testing of nuclear devices in the Pacific region had brought the area into focus, away from the pull of Europe where it was customary for antipodeans to get a first-hand experience of the history and culture which for so long had underwritten their intellectual leanings. However, there was something mysterious and unexplored in the near north and she needed to find out about Polynesia where the story was told in oral form and was less accessible to outsiders. It was a tall order and it was far from clear whether she would be robust enough to follow up her ideas. The word martyrdom referred to casually by Polly, had shocked her for a moment with its uncompromising value judgement and now she began to think about her motives again. Were her lofty ideas of service in the underdeveloped world tainted with masochism and its possible concomitant, resentment?

A good night's sleep and the coming daylight might erase her misgivings created by darkness and the screech of bats.

## Chapter 2

The party was well under way when Min arrived. At first she recognised no one because her momentary panic froze the frame and all she saw was a blur of faces and all she heard was a muddle of sound. She walked over to the drinks table to place her contribution. The selection was mostly local beer with a smattering of wine from Australia and New Zealand.

'Hi there,' said Jim, offering his hand. 'Polly told me all about your chat. Nice to see you. What's your poison?'

The firm handshake was reassuring and she suggested wine.

'Wine it shall be.' He poured her a chardonnay and said he favoured the local beer, telling her that it was one of the first enterprises set up after independence and was not a bad brew. He was a tall robust man with blue eyes under thick fair eyebrows and a slightly receding hairline. Nordic, thought Min, as he told her that he'd never heard of New Zealand before coming to the Pacific, so it was interesting to discover a new breed of people (who spoke rather quaint English, he thought to himself).

'It's all a revelation in fact. We Americans are not experts in geopolitics but it doesn't stop us from throwing our weight around.'

Min smiled.

'I like this chap,' she thought, as she raised her glass. Having taken a good sip she turned and saw a young Japanese raise his glass from across the room. She recognised Yushi who had stopped her a week earlier in the supermarket and asked if she taught English. Before she was approached by him and his little electronic dictionary again, another tall stranger wearing a loud Hawai'an shirt and dark-rimmed glasses, sidled up and introduced himself. Jim nodded and then moved away when Polly called him from the kitchen.

'I'm Lucky - and you are?'

'Unlucky.' The reply was automatic. The eyes behind the glasses looked merrily at Min who choked on her wine.

'Sorry - I'm Min - and please don't say Ha Ha.' They had got off to a good start.

'Can I get you a refill?'

'Thanks.' She handed him her glass.

While Lucky was getting the drinks Min looked nowhere in particular and felt more relaxed.

He came back and asked her how she was settling into her new surroundings. She said it felt like jumping through hoops in quick succession and the absence of a curriculum at the college was a bit unnerving. He said it was probably the same wherever you ended up, because expatriates were also used to an array of technical backup which was just not available.

'Makes you more resourceful though and I'm told kiwis are well-known for their resourcefulness.'

'I'm the exception that proves that rule then.'

'That's interesting.' This time it was a local newspaperman Eturasi, who walked up to them to join in the social chitchat. He wanted to know what rule she was the exception to and Lucky explained and then introduced himself.

'I'm a mere Australian of no particular merit.' Min didn't take the bait but nodded slowly.

Score: One all.

Eturasi said he had studied in New Zealand and his wife Luatasi, in Australia, so between them they knew the antipodes pretty well. He edited one of the two local papers and travelled regularly to both countries where they had relatives.

'Keep me up to date with anything you find interesting - I'm always on the lookout for news and opinions.'

Min asked him if he was going to cover the nuclear ship visit and was told that he had a handout from the Peace Corps but wanted something to balance it Min was feeling the confidence that came with the wine after a long drought and said she'd been thinking of writing a letter to the paper, opposing the intrusion into the Pacific of nuclear vessels.

Later that night at home she wished she hadn't said a word because Eturasi had leapt at the idea and she felt committed. Lucky had teased her about New Zealand's nuclear-free policy but she sensed that he was winding her up. He was being devil's advocate she was sure and she looked forward to finding out what made him tick.

As she was leaving to wander home in the welcome moonlight, she was stopped by Yushi who was outside, smoking with some friends. He wanted her to meet his girlfriend Noriko, who spoke English rather well.

Yushi was working in the public works department, and with difficulty he explained that his English, which he had studied for years at school in Japan, was letting him down badly. He needed some functional vocabulary.

'Market, Post Office, bar.' He ticked them off on his fingers. Did she think she could help?

When she got home, she was wide awake and the moon was at its zenith. She hardly needed any artificial light as it beamed through the louvres on to her work table. Before sketching out ideas for the letter, she jotted down what might be a good starter kit for Yushi, based on useful situations and at the same time, on a structured grammatical base. This was going to be an interesting exercise for her and would provide her with some pocket money to supplement her meagre wage.

Her last thought as she lay down to sleep finally, was that she must find out how Lucky had got his name. It had a hint of irony about it.

## Chapter 3

Sunday. Her favourite day.

Min was usually woken by the now familiar smell of the earth oven being prepared in the village nearby. The young men had to get up at first light to prepare it and to scrape the coconuts for cream.

Scrawny freely-ranging hens and roosters picked their way outside her bedroom chortling companionably as they searched for food. On the hour a church bell would ring tinnily. Min was reminded of a village in France where she had spent some time as a student and where church activities dominated life on a Sunday, summoning the faithful to an age- old ritual. Here on this side of the earth, the smell of a slow-cooking pig and other traditional treats replaced the piquant odours of the café and the bakery. She wallowed in the early morning tropical languor.

Today she was going to spend the day at a beach on the other side of the island with her new friends, Dinah and Robert. They were old hands whose savvy gentle cynicism intrigued her and might be a counter balance to the bushy-tailed enthusiasm of the newly arrived.

'You up yet?'

Min hadn't heard the van come along the grassy lane, so she hurriedly wrapped herself in her lava lava and rushed to the door. The food was ready in the fridge and she would leap into the cold shower while Dinah rustled around getting something for them to drink.

The simple life.

It was early April and the rainy season was all but over. Each day the sun hurled its merciless rays earthwards, but these would soon be tempered by the trade winds which dried your clothes and sweaty skin. The intense green presence of huge trees and their outsized foliage was a soothing counterpoint to the heavy sultry air and to the jubilant flora. The lush terrain refused a geometric template, except where the constant effort of villagers cultivated their sustaining gardens.

On the road across the island banyan trees with gothic buttressed roots, the texture of elephant hide, rose alongside the tar seal like behemoths. Nearer the coast, villages sprouted organically in the vegetation, except for the occasional rusting iron roof jarring against the traditional thatch. The beach they were going to was well away from the villages, so their Sabbath play would not interfere with the strictly observed all day religious practices. As they passed an imposing concrete church, they heard sturdy voices raised in the strains of nineteenth century England hymn-singing and they stopped to listen for some moments before going on to communion with nature, well past the village confines.

The primeval beauty of the spot by the river mouth transported Min more effectively than any human rituals could and this would stay with her, she knew. They crossed the cool tidal river to where the mangroves spread themselves low to the ground. Here they could enjoy the privacy provided by a rising tide.

After putting some bottles of beer in the river, Robert lay down on his back with his hat over his face and Dinah slipped off her lava lava and waded out beyond the brackish water. Min watched with her chin on her knees while she absorbed the sheer privilege of the place. Dinah's fair head poked out of the lagoon and from time to time she stretched her arms and lay in a cruciform with her thick ponytail trailing like blond seaweed. Min was delaying the moment of joining her because she wanted to prolong the sensation of sublime oneness with her surroundings. Whatever lay ahead this memory would sustain her, she felt sure.

Robert propped himself on his elbows and asked Min if she was going to swim. She said she was but was delaying the pleasure. Robert was a lean tanned fellow who inspired Min with his taciturn practicality while Dinah was a stimulating chatterbox full of humour and refreshing candour. They had taken Min under their wing and Robert, as a fellow New Zealander whose mother had trained as a teacher with Min's mother, felt a mild sense of responsibility for this solo traveller. He knew something of her background but had delved no further to allow the friendship to take a steady course.

He stood up to fetch some beer and Min took off her light cotton smock and waded in after Dinah. The sea embraced her like a warm bath on a planetary scale and beyond the still water of the lagoon, was the protective reef where the great swell of the ocean erupted in a spray of foam. She paddled lazily and waved to Dinah who cupped her hands and called,

'Isn't this perfect?'

When they waded back to the mangroves, Robert had already opened the food containers and was munching away happily.

'Such gifts,' said Min succinctly, as he handed her a thick slice of bread and some cheese. She and Dinah raised their glasses of boiled water in a mock toast.

'To the Pacific ocean and all who sail on her.'

Robert said he missed the surf and found the lagoon rather tame. Min said she appreciated the warmth after the cold water of home which left your body tingling with the virtuous sense of triumph over inclination. Then she talked about swimming in a fresh water lake where the cold and hot water ran into each other, and Robert pointed out that that was because you were swimming in a huge volcanic crater.

'Eek - doesn't bear thinking about,' chirped Dinah in an unconvincing regional English accent.

As they finished the food, Dinah asked Min how she managed to do her shopping without her own transport.

'That's the hard part - and I haven't got around to braving the local buses like my friend Polly has. They always look so crowded.'

'But you'll always get a seat,' said Robert. 'It's local etiquette. You qualify on two counts for displacing some hapless local. You're female and white.'

Min was shocked. She asked if that meant that an old man would have to give her his seat.

'Yep.'

'Well, I'd politely refuse.' Min drew a picture of a bus in the sand with a stick and looked at Robert who just laughed enigmatically.

'We'll solve that problem by taking you to market when we do our big shop,' said Dinah. 'We go very early in the morning, if that suits you.'

Min accepted the offer gratefully.

'You'll need a phone though. Have you asked for one?'

'Yes - several times. I keep asking this man Iosefa, who fobs me off with some tale about a shortage of wire.'

'He'll be too busy looking after his relatives and other hangers-on,' said Robert, and once again Min wasn't sure whether to take him seriously. Was he trying to give her a crash course in realpolitik? She was beginning to think that the flip side of naivety was cynicism and she wanted to avoid that if possible.

They lay quietly snoozing under the mangroves after lunch until Robert got up to head for the water. The river was still high so Min and Dinah joined him and they had a desultory conversation as they paddled aimlessly, their bodies foreshortened in the clear water. Min said she had not felt so pampered in all her life to which Dinah replied that a regular bathe hereabouts was great therapy and cost nothing.

'You can certainly live cheaply in the tropics if you eat local food and wear the local garb. But occasionally I get a bit nostalgic for a blazing open fire and thick woollen jumpers.' Robert looked comical with his old felt hat crammed on his thinning hair.

'That was never my bag in Queensland,' said Dinah, 'so I can't identify with Robert's little fantasy.'

Min smiled in recognition of a southern New Zealand winter which was too recent for her to get nostalgic about. She had done her time biking through searing frosts and biting winds which numbed the extremities and the thought made her shudder inwardly.

When they returned to their little shady haven, the tide had turned and they would soon be able to cross the river holding their belongings at chest height.

They walked back along the beach to where they had parked the van, stepping over the exposed coconut tree roots which, one would have thought would be hard-pressed to extract nutrients from the sand. However, these littoral stalwarts not only sustained themselves but they provided so much for the life of the islanders: sennet for binding building materials, vitamin-rich coconut milk and flesh, drinking vessels and moreover, that unique tonsured fringe around the islands which was the icon of the tourist industry. Robert explained that the characteristic lean of the palms was the result of the attraction to the light reflected off the water.

'The Maori would call them "taonga,"' said Min, but Robert asked her to translate.

'Treasures, valued objects - you've been too long away from Aotearoa.'

'It wasn't called that when I left,' he laughed. 'Taonga' he repeated roguishly.

The villagers were returning from their second church session. The men in black lava lavas and white shirts and the women in their long white dresses and broad-brimmed hats contrasted with the deep greens, scarlets and yellows alongside the road. Min was reminded of driving among a flock of snow-white sheep on a country road where the ambling majority stopped the motor traffic in its tracks. Smiles and waves were exchanged and Robert said,

'You've heard of the rat race - well this isn't it.' Min burst out laughing.

## Chapter 4

Lucky left his car at the hotel on the waterfront and walked to the post office where he joined the mêlée of bodies milling around the mail counter. If it hadn't been for the uncomfortable heat, he could have just stood and watched indefinitely the wordless exchanges soliciting countless letters and falling-apart parcels from the busy clerks. A barely perceptible lift of the eyebrows or a jerk of the head constituted the language medium except for one or two vocal disgruntled customers who received a letter marked, "Received by the post office opened in the country of origin" which he understood from his work colleagues was code for "This mail has been opened by the post office here hoping to find banknotes".

He had come to the post office to see if there was news from his home town Melbourne. It had been a fruitless exercise until now. Today however, he was rewarded by an official-looking envelope from Australia and as he was about to open it, he heard someone say his name. He looked up to see one of his colleagues from the hospital who had been away for some weeks at a conference.

'I didn't know you were back from - where was it again?' He lost track of the peregrinations of the local staff.

'Geneva.' They shook hands.

'And how was the old town and whatever took you there?'

'A conference on population control in the developing world - which I must say was fantastic. Apart from a couple of very cold days over the border in France, when I had to buy a fur-lined coat, the sun shone every day through the haze.'

'That coat'll come in handy here.' The irony had an edge of churlishness.

'And when will you start spreading the word?' Semese aimed a playful slap at Lucky's shoulder.

'The day I wear the coat.' They both laughed loudly but Lucky's hoot was shorter-lived. He fanned his face with the envelope.

'Yeah - that's about the strength of it old chap, but you'll get an audience at the hospital \- if not in the local house of God.'

Semese looked serious for a moment and said he had learned a lot and would certainly be talking to the hospital staff. Then he asked Lucky if he was interested in taking a trip to the Big Island in the next week or two because he had to go over there and see his family who would be happy to accommodate them both. Lucky liked the idea, so Semese suggested that they meet for a drink at the Seasider the following evening to talk it over. Semese was not due back at work for several days.

As he walked back to his car, Lucky remembered the letter and felt a small jab of anxiety. He had forgotten to leave a window open in the car and he was met by a whoosh of hot air as he opened the door.

'Bloody oven,' he muttered and wondered why he was feeling out of sorts. He had started to experience mood shifts which he had not been prone to when he was younger. His mind turned to Min who shared his sense of self-deprecation apparently, and it would be interesting to get to know her better and find out if his first impression was accurate. Passing the golf course, he saw one or two Japanese players with huge umbrellas dotted around taking advantage of flexible working hours and cheap subscription rates. It crossed his mind to take up golf one day perhaps...

He turned into his driveway and waved to the children playing in the next door yard. Their shy smiles and the prospect of a cold beer raised his mood a notch so when he sat down to read the letter, he felt ready to face its contents. It was from his solicitor in Melbourne and a cursory glance picked out key words like 'searching questions' - 'technicalities' - 'further discussion' which gave him breathing space and temporary relief. He began to feel the noontime drowsiness and lay down with the book he was currently reading. Instead of plunging into George Eliot's England he was sitting with his father on the verandah of the old house he grew up in. Through the gum trees, beyond the garden, he saw an "officer of the law" as the police were known in Ned Kelly's day. The man was on a horse and galloping towards them but coming no nearer. His father made no comment but stood up and went inside the house, leaving Lucky at the mercy of the horseman. He called out, 'Halt!' but in reply, a musket was raised and before a shot rang out, he woke, his mouth dry and his heart beating somewhere near his throat. He lay very still, pressing his shoulders into the pillow to quieten it down and after several deep breaths, he allowed his mind to repeat the dream in full detail so that he could ponder on its meaning later.

'Weird,' he said drily as he licked his lips and looked at his watch. He'd been asleep for only ten minutes so he closed his eyes again and drifted into that pleasant state of semi-consciousness. It was stabbed by the jangle of the telephone and he had to get up because the apparatus was on the kitchen wall. It was a workmate wanting to know if he was coming to the meeting due to start in a few minutes. It had completely slipped his mind. He gulped down another beer, took a quick cold shower and was away.

The sun had passed the seemingly everlasting mid point and a slight breeze had come up. The same number of patrons was on the golf course but perhaps it was a second round. How they could stand the noon heat was beyond him.

The idea of a visit to the Big Island where he had never been, seemed like an attractive proposition and he wondered if Semese would mind if he recruited a couple of mates.

A venture into the hinterland could be a bonding experience and he felt relaxed at the possibility.

## Chapter 5

The normally undisturbed little harbour, protected by the reef and accessible only through a gap in the centre, was filled by the sleek grey hulk of a US navy frigate which had slunk in during the night. All along the beach road, marines strolled aimlessly as if estranged by their out- of-scale presence in the tiny island nation. The two watering holes on the water front could hardly cater for them all, so an overflow found its way to the back streets where the more ramshackle shops carried on thriving businesses.

The significance of the visitation had no detectable effect on the adult town dwellers who went about their business casting the odd glance at the strangers, but little knots of giggling children followed them as welcome diversions from their usual idleness.

The Peace Corps had accepted responsibility for the entertainment of their compatriots and had arranged a basketball match at a nearby church, to be followed by a party for all Americans in the area. Polly had explained her opposition to hobnobbing with the military to the director, who simply laughed it off as an overreaction. Jim did his best to convince her that she was tilting at windmills and so wasting her time, so why not go with the flow and have a good time.

'A good time?' Polly said vehemently. 'This monstrous ship has no place in this little backwater and we are the Peace Corps. Is that contradiction lost on everybody but me?'

Jim admired her 'incorrigibly idealistic sentiments' but pointed out that they couldn't see the Big Picture and were simple pawns in the game of power politics.

'Speak for yourself. I refuse to be a pawn and I find it depressing that

I'm on my own.'

Jim reluctantly agreed to boycott the convivial occasion and instead, he suggested that they take a walk along the Road of Loving Hearts and climb the hill behind the town to the grave of the poet who had spent his last years in the country. He looked for his guide book to find out more and read out some facts: the young Scot and his family had come to this country to relieve his symptoms of tuberculosis and he had won the affection of many of the local people apparently, before dying suddenly at his home at the foot of the mountain. His ardent supporters carried his coffin to the top of the mount, in accordance with his expressed wish.

Polly was mollified by Jim's idea and told him that she hoped he realised that her anger was not directed at him. He was her sounding board. She prepared two containers of coconut milk for the climb and they set off in mutual relief.

It was a slow ascent along a steep path through the trees and Polly kept thinking of the robust young men who had carried the poet's body to the summit. With only machetes to clear a track and no time to spare in the tropical heat, they were truly loving hearts and their painful devotion was still evident almost a hundred years later.

When they reached the summit after nearly an hour they were surprised to find two sailors from the naval ship, and a young local man strumming a guitar. He was humming a tune and the smiling sailors were sitting on the grass and listening reverently. Then he began to put words to the tune and Jim saw that he was singing the words engraved in the marble of the tomb.

"Under the wide and starry sky, dig the grave and let me lie..."

Jim joined in and the others stood up to read the words and do the same. They sang it over and over and their voices became confident and rang out over the valley. Finally, they began to clap spontaneously and thanked the guitarist for an impromptu pleasure. He went on to explain how the poet had grown to identify with the local people's political ideals and had won a permanent place in their history, so far from his birthplace.

"Home is the hunter, home from the hill, and the sailor home from the sea" seemed to express his identification with his adopted land. The young musician began quietly strumming again and Jim turned to the sailors and asked them when they were going home.

'In three months.'

'And how did you find out about this spot?'

'I read about it in an airline magazine quite a while ago and made a note to check it out when I heard that we'd be coming to the Pacific. I dragged my friend here out of the hot crowded bar on the beach front and we were lucky to meet our musical friend down at the homestead.' The young guitarist raised his eyebrows and smiled.

'And where are you two from?'

'I'm from San Francisco and Jim here's from Indiana.'

'Do you get homesick?'

'No - should we?' Polly's defensiveness asserted itself when she looked down and saw the grey monster again, clearly dwarfing its surroundings. Jim hurriedly pointed out that everything was so different and there was so much to learn that they didn't have a chance to be homesick He went on to explain that they were Peace Corps volunteers looking for new experiences. He didn't want to sound high-minded and Polly was glad that he struck a neutral note.

The guitarist said goodbye and they thanked him warmly. Jim said they might see him around. The sailors wanted to follow him so after they had all shaken hands and Polly and Jim were left alone, he put his arm around her and said what a stroke of luck that had been. Wasn't she impressed that those two Americans had chosen to get a real local experience?

'No warm fuzzy will change my feelings about that ship. It has made me think about how the rest of the world must feel about US global politics. I want to try and understand things.'

'Perhaps after we've been here a while our ideas will change. I've noticed that some expatriates are quite patronising towards the local culture. Tell me if I get like that.' Jim looked directly into Polly's eyes as he said this and then he took her chin and kissed her as if sealing a pact. She shuddered involuntarily and stroked the back of his head. Slowly they sank down on to the grass, grappling urgently as a darkening pall was descending.

When their passion was spent, the darkness around them was complete and only the twinkling lights of the town below and the powerful lights of the frigate were visible. The warm balmy air and a desire to sleep kept them on the hilltop till daybreak when they said goodbye to the poet and promised to come again.

## Chapter 6

Her letter to the local paper caused a few comments among the staff at the college when Min arrived after the weekend visit of the American ship. One of the more outspoken members of the staff asked her why she had got involved in what was a local issue and she said that she had thought about that and had decided that it was more than a local issue.

'Are you here to spread the New Zealand disease? We are perfectly capable of making up our own minds without the help of outsiders. You are here to teach English and you should stick to that.'

No one else spoke up and Min felt her colour rising. Perhaps she had strayed into sensitive territory before she had established her local credentials. Small countries felt vulnerable to outside interference and this she could appreciate. She thought however, that her puny offering had been overrated. She agreed that she had plenty to think about because she wanted to establish an innovative programme with very limited resources, once she had some idea of student needs and learning styles.

When she arrived home later there was a notice pinned to her door from someone asking for a job as a house girl. This was another custom that she had to come to terms with because she had no experience of having someone do her housework, and this amounted in her mind to employing a servant. She lay on her bed and was contemplating the events of the morning when Yushi arrived on his motorbike in a very flustered state.

'Some bad person come to our house and take much things,' he said, breathless with emotion.

'When?'

'Today. Hiro he go to house at lunch hour and see terrible mess. Radios gone, food gone and clothers too. And money - all money gone too.'

'Have you got insurance?'

'What is that?' Min explained as simply as she could and Yushi nodded.

'I think volunteers must have. Computer still in house.'

'Perhaps the thieves would not know how to use it or get rid of it in this small place.'

'What means "get rid of"?' Min explained and again Yushi agreed and rummaged around for his notebook where he recorded new words and expressions.

'Don't worry about English right now - just sit down and I'll pour you a whisky.'

He flopped on to the couch wincing slightly in doing so and took off his glasses. He put one hand over his eyes. Min felt so sorry for him that she wanted to put her arm around him as a gesture of empathy, but she was fairly sure that it would not be interpreted as such. When she handed him his glass, he looked up myopically and said,

'I want to go back Japan.'

'Then you'll forget your English.' It was a lame remark she knew, so she added quickly, 'And what about your girlfriend?'

'I speak Japanese in my house and girlfriend is just friend.'

Min took a tiny sip of whisky and stared into her glass, stumped for further counsels. Yushi put his glasses on again and told Min that Japanese did not steal things. It was not the moment to discuss peculiar national vices so she suddenly reached out for a linguistic filler and told Yushi that the word for what had happened was "burglary". This time he found his notebook and wrote down the word which made him smile in spite of its meaning.

'And the person who enters your house to steal your things is a "burglar".' At this he gave a little laugh, but when she said the verb was "to burgle", he laughed outright and said the word over and over until its sinister aspect was replaced by its sudden absurdity. Min found this very amusing too and they were soon both laughing madly. She had hit on an unexpected circuit breaker.

When he eventually got up to leave, Yushi offered her some money for the English lesson and she was horrified.

'I have an idea. Bring your flatmates and your girlfriend here for a meal tomorrow night and I'll cook you something English. Would you like that?' She had no idea what she meant exactly by English because roast beef and Yorkshire pudding was all she thought of in those terms. Pasta was her strong point but no matter how much it had been embraced by Anglo- Saxons, it was not English. Oh well, tinned baked beans embroidered by something or other, might qualify.

'Thank you very much. We have saki which the' (he looked at his notebook) 'burglars did not take.'

As he sped off on his bike, Min wondered why she had bitten off more than she could chew - an apposite metaphor in the circumstances. She lay down on her bed again to rack her brains and soon she was standing in an enormous hangar and someone was trying to saw open a car with a huge can opener. She was calling out but no sound escaped her lips. The words she was trying to say were 'You need the jaws of life and you are using the jaws of death'. She felt helpless and ineffectual. Suddenly she was blindfolded from behind and led away and was accused of abusing the language. The more she tried to justify herself, the more she was pushed and the blindfold was tightened. She started to struggle and woke up with relief washing over her.

She marvelled at the wild plunge her mind had taken into her subconscious, fascinating her with its bizarre store of imagery and dissociated imprints. It had once again, indicated significant influences in a jumble of surreality.

She did enjoy these siestas which tided over the soporific heat of the noon, but it was now late enough and time enough to walk to the post office and make another attempt to get a telephone. She would appeal to a sense of family because her parents felt insecure with no ready communication.

When she arrived at the first level of the mysteries, she was told that Iosefa the keeper of the mysteries, had gone to the airport so she asked if she could see his replacement. Her interlocutor refused to make eye contact and kept looking over her shoulder to some other petitioners waiting on a bench.

'When will Iosefa be back?'

'I don't know.' He shrugged and walked off behind a screen. Min followed him and when he sat down at his desk he looked angrily at her and pointed to the exit.

'Look, I have come here to teach and I have left my family behind in New Zealand. I need to be able to contact them because my parents are quite old. Who else can I ask? Can I ask the minister of education?'

'Where do you live?'

'I live not far from Eturasi Ituri - do you know him?' Of course he did, but wordlessly he pulled open a drawer and took out a form which he passed over the desk. He indicated that she should fill it in.

'Do you live alone?'

'Yes - but I do have a dog,' she lied, realising that her admission was unguarded.

He picked up a telephone and nodded to her to say that the audience was over, so she returned to the outer chamber and filled in the cyclostyled form.

On the way home she began to think that a dog might be an advantage even though she had no experience of caring for one. Her parents were not animal lovers and the only time a dog was mentioned in the house was to recall the time her father had been bitten on the leg and had had to buy a new pair of trousers. Dogs however were favoured by expatriates in this town and many were dangerous and used as guards on the big estates. She had gone off the idea by the time she reached home.

Dinah was sitting on the doorstep reading a letter, so Min reported on her visit to the post office and the tale of the imaginary dog. Dinah laughed and said that she had a friend in Australia who had a recording of a dog's bark which was triggered by the doorbell. Maybe Min could invest in one of those.

'Anyway, I've come to arrange our trip to the market in the morning. How does 7 o'clock sound?'

'Perfect. Remind me to tell you about Yushi's burglary. I've invited him and his mates for an English meal tomorrow and have no idea what to cook.'

'How about toad in the hole - which Robert calls - can you guess?'

'You're a brick. You and Robert are invited too. Just don't tell Robert what's on the menu.'

Dinah gave a witty salute as she started the engine of her van and Min went inside to mull over the eventful day. She was hot and too tired to eat a proper meal. At this rate she would become the sylph that she had always wanted to be.

She looked glumly at her furniture which suddenly reminded her of an austere convent parlour where she had once been reprimanded for singing "All wipe your noses" in chapel, instead of "Ora pro nobis", and she felt overwhelmed. The empty space on the wall where a telephone should be, was the last straw. She stomped off to the cool bedroom and threw herself on the bed where she uttered a husky growl,

'I need a break from God's grace \- I'm over it!'

Instead of a clap of divine thunder, she heard the resonant snort of her neighbour's pig and she felt strangely relieved of a long-standing burden.

## Chapter 7

Eturasi was sitting in the back room behind the printing press reading through the galley proofs for the paper. It was a demanding business, keeping abreast of the country's affairs each week on both the domestic and foreign fronts. It was also a considerable responsibility to be as objective as possible. All this, plus an able and reliable compositor working in a ramshackle shed in the searing heat, produced a ten- or twelve-page tabloid every Thursday.

He was currently editing the Peace Corps report of the nuclear ship visit which included the results of the basketball match. Eturasi was neither for nor against the visit but he could not ignore the welcome windfall for the local economy which was heavily dependent on remittances from local people living overseas. The Peace Corps article touched on the role of the US navy as a stabilising influence in the Pacific, but he decided to leave this out. There were plenty of people who disagreed with the paper's editorial policy but he always pointed out that they were welcome to set up in competition at any time. His understated style and encyclopedic knowledge earned him respect in many quarters.

It had been decided that Luatasi and the two children would go to New Zealand if her younger sister's scholarship came through but Eturasi couldn't get away because there was no assistant editor. He had employed a promising young man for a few months who, as so often was the case, had gone overseas to study. It was then suggested that he employ a volunteer replacement. However, he rejected the idea on the grounds of cultural ignorance. His attitude to overseas volunteers was problematic because of his sensitivity to unenquiring paternalism. Just as he was thinking of shutting up shop for the day, there was a ring on the bell in the front office. Min had come to have a chat and some advice about her programme and its literary content. She used the word

'relevance' and he stiffened visibly. There was a pause before he looked her straight in the eye and asked her what she meant. Flustered for a moment, Min said she wanted to connect with the students' experience.

'Is that what you think about at home, or do you think more about extending the students' horizons?'

'I try to do both I suppose, but most of the material we use belongs to our cultural canon whereas here I would like to choose material which the students can relate to.'

'Is your knowledge of this culture adequate to use it as any sort of a guide for your teaching?'

Min felt defensive and miserable. She had waded into deeper water than she had anticipated and she looked away. Bloody hell. Her intentions were being misconstrued. Eturasi knew the effect he was having and he spoke more gently.

'Remember that these students are going to teach and the wider their experience is - no matter how vicarious - the better. Don't underestimate them.'

'I certainly don't want to do that. But I have a problem with lack of materials. Is there a conduit for funds through say, UNESCO or the UNDP ?'

Eturasi smiled. After a careful pause, he told Min that she was welcome to approach them and he'd be very interested in how she got on. This did not sound encouraging. She leaned forward to pick up her kit full of books which she had intended to show him but which now seemed redundant. He stood up and wished her good luck and asked her to keep in touch. She thanked him for his time and left the building deflated and confused. Clearly she had to adjust her perspective but deep inside her, she felt as if she had been chastised for her good intentions.

Across the road was the public library where Dinah worked, so she blindly went across with no particular plan in mind but in need of a reflective pause. The magazine stand was the first sign that she was entering a library and she approached the librarian at the despatch desk to explain that she was looking for material which she could trawl for teaching resources. Her reply was a wave of the hand indicating a table of newspapers and sad-looking dog-eared periodicals by the window. Min sat on the window seat and contemplated the collection. Her eye lit on some faces long since removed from the celebrity pantheon and a closer look revealed depressingly old publication dates. She rolled her eyes and had an urge to harangue the woman on duty to relieve her pent-up feelings.

Fortunately, Dinah appeared from a side room and Min said to herself,

'Now she can take a diatribe.' But before she let fly, Dinah enthused about the chance to have a drink at her favourite watering hole and Min acquiesced limply. Once they had sat down with their drinks, Min felt her eyes smart and her throat constrict. Dinah put her hand out to touch hers and it was enough to open the sluice gate. She told Dinah that the sight of all that out of date crap coupled with the homily she had got from Eturasi, aroused her anger and misery. She said she felt desperately inadequate and homesick and wanted to throw in the towel. The task was beyond her and the loneliness was desolate. Dinah listened with her hand still firmly holding hers and waited for the tears and the misery to abate.

'We've all felt like this at some point. It's a combination of culture shock and dislocation. Please hang in there and don't take things too seriously. That's how I coped - and Rob too I think, although he is a bit better at containing his feelings.'

'But I have to find material in a hurry and Eturasi was implicitly dismissive of the UN agencies though you'd think UNESCO would be a major help.'

'What about the college library? I thought that's where most of the stuff would be - a public library is a fairly novel concept here after all.'

Min leaned forward and invited Dinah to come and look at the miscellaneous collection which lined the gecko-infested shelves at the college. Would the Life of Ron Hubbard or the abridged version of the Wind in the Willows appeal? The students deserved a whole lot better and it was time something was done. What exactly she was unsure, but she'd ask the principal about a source of funds which she would follow up.

'That's my girl. Get the bit between your teeth and in the meantime, I'll try and update our celebs. All those passé bimbos will disappear...'

Min thanked Dinah for trying to restore her equilibrium and as they were parting, Dinah remembered Lucky's invitation to the Big Island. She would discuss it with him first but she was sure he would agree to Min's joining in. Then there was Semese even though they would not be sharing his village accommodation.

'I'll be in touch when I'm a less sodden blanket.' Min shouldered her kit of books and turned for what did not yet feel like home.

## Chapter 8

Lucky went to the High Commission to read the newspapers and to catch up on Australian news. He was thinking about himself a lot these days and this was something new. His dreams were more memorable than before and they were mostly centred around his boyhood and people who had died. It was as if it was his first chance to think about the past and its influences. The work he was doing was less demanding than he was used to but there were frustrations he was not used to and which took up time and called for some ingenuity.

The papers were full of gossip, of upturns and downturns, of medium terms and long terms. He smiled at the arcane analyses by the experts whose wholesale use of jargon made it all the more remote. Language was one of the arms of power he thought, as he scanned some of the articles. Then he saw references to English as a Foreign Language as a saleable commodity on the free market and his heart sank. Was there anything beyond the purview of economic rationalists? Water and air would be next.

He looked at his watch and realised that he would not have time to go home to take a shower before he met Semese at the Seasider. He gave himself a quick squirt of body freshener in the car and when he arrived, there was no sign of Semese so he bought a beer and sat down in the shade where he could watch the seawater lapping against the roadside wall. The ocean fascinated him and he wondered what it must be like to live on planet earth and never see it.

He had asked Semese if he could invite his friends Dinah and Robert, on the excursion to the Big Island and he said they would stay in the hotel in that case. He had arranged for them to meet for a drink too. He found Dinah easy company and what his mother would have called "a good sort". Robert was an unknown quantity but, without any evidence to prove it, Lucky thought he would be a practical backstop to have on voyages into the unknown. Perhaps it was because he reminded him of an outback farmer with his old akubra hat worn at a similar angle. While he was idly thinking thus, he saw Dinah and Robert parking their van near the fence. Dinah waved and then Lucky saw Semese coming from behind the bar towards where he was sitting. Before they sat down Lucky stood and introduced everybody and asked what he could get them to drink. When he came back with their beers, Robert and Semese were talking about the Big Island as familiar territory where Robert often went on forestry business. Dinah was sitting with her elbows on the table and her chin on her hands, listening with interest. She smiled broadly at Lucky and said 'Thanks mate.' He asked her if she was looking forward to the excursion and she said how interested she was to go where Robert had spent a lot of time. There was a large plantation of exotic trees which was intended as a cash crop for the economy and to take pressure off the harvesting of the tropical hardwoods.

Dinah asked Lucky what had brought him so far from home and his answer - 'Curiosity' - was less than satisfactory. They talked about their respective home states and Lucky asked Dinah if she had ever been to Melbourne.

'No-o-o but have you been to Townsville?'

He mimicked her answer but they agreed that being Australian was the key to mateship especially when far from dear old Oz. At this point, Robert tuned into their exchange and warned them not to treat him as a younger sibling. New Zealand had refused to join the Federation of States in 1901 and was determined to plough its own furrow. Semese was amused at this declaration of independence and said that, as an even smaller entity his country had an uphill battle to do the same.

The conversation continued in a jocose tone drawing parallels with immigration patterns which lured talent from the small to the large and how the smallest was the biggest loser.

The subject was a serious and interesting one but Lucky wanted to keep the tone light, so he said,

'Well I for one, want to thank you for your hospitality both present and future.' This was greeted with a hoot of agreement and they all raised their glasses and held them out for a refill. Robert got up and asked if it was the same again and as he walked to the bar, Min saw him from the other side of the room and called his name. When she recognised the others she came over to say hello and was introduced to Semese who shook her hand and invited her to join them. He asked her if she would like to go with them to the Big Island and she hesitated a moment. She said 'Let me get my drink from the other table.'

She wondered if she was in the mood to take on another new challenge. Semese smiled and waited for her to accept his invitation. While Min toyed with her glass, Dinah stepped in and said that Min had been suffering a crisis of confidence which they had all been through and Semese looked puzzled. He said he was sorry to hear that and then added brightly that they needed another kiwi anyway.

'There's nothing like a balance of power in international affairs.' He leaned back in his chair and smiled like an honest broker charged with the maintenance of trans-Tasman relations.

A discussion of ferry timetables and sailings, which Robert pointed out were not always the same, meant that he would get the information and pass it on before booking. Semese said he must go home to his near and dear who had not seen much of him lately, but he offered to contact his friend who owned one of the hotels on the island and he would let Lucky know how that went.

The four remaining opted for another drink to celebrate the fact that there were no "booze buses" about to ambush them on their way home. Lucky commented on how much easier it must be to come to this laissez-faire regime than to go in the other direction and Robert added that most of the Pacific islanders in New Zealand tended to congregate in certain areas for solidarity. He said that the economic imperative must be a burden on those who made the transit for the benefit of family back in the Pacific. Dinah said she couldn't imagine going to a New Zealand winter, especially in the south island where they would see snow for the first time.

'Some like it cold,' quipped Robert.

'I'm imagining some of the larger ladies cuirassed in padded jackets,'

said Lucky as he drained his glass and massaged his lips energetically.

'The zone of elegance is limited come to think of it,' laughed Dinah. 'If it's too hot, you have to shed garments and if it's too cold you have to pile them on. Either way, the Parisian couturiers would find it a challenge.'

Min accepted Lucky's offer of a ride home and invited him in, hoping he would refuse because she was feeling tired and slightly woozy. However instead of going straight to bed, she went outside into the silent still night of moonless blackness. The complete absence of ambient light was a novel experience and she could sense an infinite void, empty of compassion. She recalled Simone de Beauvoir's experience while camping alone in the French Massif Central, where she discovered "ce néant que cache tout décor quotidien". To accept that sense of the void and affirm one's being was the task of the non-believer.

Slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the blackness like an image from a photographic plate. twinkling dust emerged and above the silence of sleeping nature, Min imagined she could hear a sussuration of planetary communication. The secretive mystery overwhelmed her and she wanted to cry out from existential loneliness. Finally the moment passed and she felt a sudden fatigue. Sleep without dreams was what she needed.

## Chapter 9

Polly woke early from a very sound sleep. The cooler nights made sleep easier and the days more full of energy. It was Friday, and while Jim had to work as usual, she decided to take the day off because most of the staff in her office were going to be away on family business. The acknowledgement that family life and work life were of equal importance in the overall scheme was strangely refreshing, except when it impinged on personal plans. But it worked both ways.

An early bike ride to the ocean beach was far enough to give her a change of scene. She was feeling the lure of the primeval and solitude, neither of which she knew at first hand. Occasionally she wished she could share these opportunities with her twin sister as the only other person who might have the same response to them. It was the first time their paths had diverged and their environment been radically altered, so she was only speculating.

There was no other being on the beach as Polly scrambled over the roadside rocks to the sand. She found a patch of shade under some straggly trees and lay down on her spare lava lava to listen to the savage surf. It was stirring to hear the continuous thrashing of the ocean unhindered by the defensive reef. Here there was no danger from falling fruit because the coconut palms were noticeably absent. Her time in the archive office had made her aware of fatalities from falling coconuts comparable on a per capita basis with road accidents in industrialised countries. She had told Jim of this discovery but he had scoffed.

With the breeze blowing in her thick salt-laden hair, she felt exquisitely well. She sat up and began to hum, "Blow the wind southerly, southerly", in a low register. The waves were a percussive accompaniment and she hugged her knees and swayed as she sang. With no one around, she increased the volume and then laughed wildly and luxuriously.

Although this part of the island was considered unsafe for swimming because of the ferocity of the waves, Polly was in a bravura mood and wanted to pit her body against the surge which had been generated far out in the vast ocean. Her earliest memories were of surf and people confronting its power with pleasure, so why not here - and now?

She stood up and stretched her arms and did a little run on the spot. Then she strode out into the water and plunged into a wave as it rolled in to die on the sand.

She laughed maniacally as she rose to the challenge of each wave coming fast on the heels of the last, as if confronting a lover. Jim did not share this form of adventure so she let her mind conjure up another wild soul mate whose playful robustness exercised her whole body. Unexpectedly, a huge roller loomed, out of scale with the rest, and her triumphs were interrupted by a sudden need to fight her way to the surface. The churning water tossed her ruthlessly like prey and her eyes could see nothing but glazed bubbles as she moved her limbs haphazardly. Just as she was losing strength and clarity, she was dumped on to the sand and sucked back a few metres by the receding monster which left her to fill her lungs, disordered by the feeling of panic. With her eyes closed she felt a kind of gratitude to the monster as if a warning had been given.

When her breathing had slowed she opened her eyes and she saw a large pair of brown feet planted beside her water-logged body. She heard a gentle voice, but with insufficient strength to follow its direction upwards, she began to sob convulsively. A man crouched down so that she was able to strain her neck and see his face but she couldn't speak. Her feelings of joy had turned so swiftly to fear that she could hardly think.

'This beach is dangerous. Nobody swim here.'

Still she lay wordless and inert and after a while the man spoke again. He told her that his village was nearby and he could take her there to rest. Finally she found the words to say that she'd be OK and could cycle home, once her energy returned. The young man sat down on the sand with his legs crossed and asked her where she lived. Her vague answer didn't satisfy him so she reluctantly told him more exactly, to which he replied calmly that she lived quite near his brother.

This information was inconsequential to her. She was feeling vulnerable for having been found like flotsam on the beach. The young man showed no sign of moving on even though Polly was clearly uncommunicative. They remained like this for some minutes until she began to feel drowsy. She knew she must stay awake so she dragged herself into a sitting position and for the first time, looked at her dogged companion. He asked her her name.

'Polly,' she mumbled. 'What's yours?'

'Jupeli. What is your home country?'

'America.'

'You are lucky. Everybody want to go there because everybody have a big car in America.'

She didn't have the energy to enter into a debate about consumerism but simply said,

'This is a beautiful country.'

There was another long silence and no sign of Jupeli moving until Polly made an effort to get on to her feet. Then he stood up and repeated his offer of recovery in the village where, he said there was food to make her strong again. Polly thanked him courteously and while she wrung some of the water out of her hair, she said she was ready to bike back into town and would like to shout him a drink when and if he came to town. They clambered over the rocks to where she had left her bicycle and she wrapped her dry lava lava around her. She told him where she worked and shook his hand before she gave her pedal a push and rode off.

She passed through the same villages and stopped from time to time to greet the women and children to show her appreciation for her transit through their property. They responded with big smiles and the children added the inevitable 'Bye Bye'. She had recovered from her unceremonious treatment by the surf, but she was not sure whether she would tell anybody because she felt slightly ashamed of what might be seen as foolhardiness. She was feeling tired when she rounded the last corner where the road turned away from the beach, and she was surprised to see Min with her now familiar flax kit outside the popular hotel where tourists went to dip their toes into the local culture.

'Hi. Where're you going?'

'Home. But you might be wondering what I'm doing outside the depot of winning smiles and pyrotechnics.'

'Well - yes.'

'How long have you got?'

'Hey - Why don't you come to our place and we'll have something to eat and catch up. I'll take your kit to lighten your load.' She swung the kit on to her wide handle bars.

As Polly rode off, she was sure that she would tell all to Min. It was so difficult to keep things to yourself when the effects were still very much on your mind.

## Chapter 10

By the time Min had arrived at Polly and Jim's place, Polly had prepared a fresh fruit salad of pineapple and papaya to cool them down.

'Now what were you doing among the rich and famous?'

'I'd just had lunch with my brother-in-law who is here for a conference on the future of Pacific culture. I had a letter last week announcing his visit - or should I call it, a visitation?'

'Did he want to pick your brains?'

Min expostulated. 'God, no! He's not the consulting type. But I had a nice meal for a change. Instead of wanting input from me, he wanted to lecture me on cultural imperialism. Did you know, Polly-Wolly-Doodle, that language is the most powerful cultural artifact and to impose a foreign language on people is the ultimate oppression?...

'Yeah? P'raps he's got a point?'

'- and here I am purveying it like any old misguided missionary bent on bringing enlightenment in the form of the English language to the benighted.' Min dug her wrists into her temples and wailed.

'Take it easy,' Polly said with her spoon in the air. 'It's one person's take on things. Other people might say that the more languages you know the better.'

'Yes, but English is the lingo of the conqueror, didn't you know?' Min said sarcastically.

'Spanish was the language of the conqueror in South America,' Polly nodded with finality.

'He would say he rests his case.'

Min went on to explain that her brother-in-law was Maori and his sentiments were shared by some other Maori in New Zealand who had been punished for using their own language in school earlier in the century.

'But things are different here where there is no threat to the indigenous language and English, being the lingua franca of most of the Pacific, is a form of empowerment.'

There was a sound outside of a bicycle being parked and a moment later, Jim walked in.

'Good afternoon ladies. This is a nice surprise for a skyver.'

Polly told him to help himself to the salad and she told him what they had been talking about. Jim looked at Min in surprise.

'A bit rough when you're grappling with a radical change in your environment.'

'Yes - but zealots rarely think about such trifles,' Min said bitterly.

Jim took the bit between his teeth and while eating the salad with gusto, he plunged into an analysis of motives in general.

'We might think we're doing something for some highfalutin motive but things we humans do are not usually that simple. Perhaps we are prompted by a modern version of "noblesse oblige" when the more privileged help the less, but that's a bit far-fetched I spose? - this salad is great Poll.' Jim took another helping.

'I think we should make an effort to learn the local language while we're here,' said Polly.

'Maybe - but I'd be interested in what the students think of my motives. Probably they don't give them a passing thought anyway.'

'They might think you're looking for a nice hunk of manhood,' Jim grinned mischievously.

Min put her hand over her eyes.

Polly said 'Jim!' reprovingly, with a half glare.

'Sorry - that's not what I think \- you must know that, but I bet there are people who put that sort of a spin on things when they see a woman on her own.'

Min looked bleak and said 'Oh God! I need a drink!' First Eturasi and now, Matt - any more of this and she would be going home.

'James - fetch the bourbon.' Polly turned to Min and told her they had a bottle for extra special occasions and this was one.

Min took the glass held out to her with a look of relief and after they had drunk a toast to all do-gooders, she expressed her thanks for such good friends. Polly said there would be difficult times ahead and she'd like to think that they would be there for one another.

'So what did you do today, Poll?'

'Biked to the surf beach and communed with nature as I intended,' Polly looked at Min to see her reaction which was instant.

'You didn't go into the surf surely?'

Polly blushed and her freckles stood out. Her resolve was weakening but the bourbon gave her a burst of courage. She admitted that she had taken to the waves and she lightly described the strength of the current which had thrown her on to the sand. Jim asked her if she had got a fright and she said it had not been the exhilarating sensation she was used to in the surf at home.

'Don't you ever go to that beach alone Polly - it's notorious and the locals never go there - even I know that and I'm the original landlubber.'

'Are you a strong swimmer?' asked Min.

Jim chipped in. 'It doesn't matter how strong a swimmer you are the surf is a hell of a lot stronger and if there's a rip, you're history.' He was clearly cross and shocked at the same time and Polly felt guilty for what she had done. She wouldn't tell them just how scared she had been and she decided not to mention Jupeli or it might make things worse. Quite why, she didn't know.

'You and I've had a big day,' said Min as she put her empty glass down.

'I'd better trundle off to plan what I'm doing tomorrow for my long- suffering clients. I won't be able to ignore what you said Jim, but being forewarned is to be forearmed I s'pose.'

Jim grunted something and Polly gave Min a hug. After she had gone, they sat down to talk about the courage some people showed in being alone in an environment very different from what they were used to and Jim said that he regretted his frankness because perhaps Min was too fragile to laugh it off.

'I wonder if she's had a relationship. I wouldn't ask her of course because she seems reticent in that department.'

'I prefer it if people don't wear their hearts on their sleeves anyway. Remember that woman on the plane who told us her life story and nearly made you scream? I'm off to take a shower and get out of these salty clothes.'

'Let's go down to the metropolis and sample the cuisine chez YumYum at the Tin Pot café.'

'It's your shout,' called Polly before she turned on the shower.

## Chapter 11

Min slept dreamlessly after the session at Jim and Polly's and woke only in time to gather up her lesson notes and walk to the college for her first class. Preparations were in train for a teaching round in the local schools and the students were in a heightened state of expectation of what was ahead. Some however would be returning to their own villages so the chance for them to avoid the daily long bus journey was welcome. Min was hoping she would not be sent to an outlying village because at this point she was not ready for total immersion in village life. Beyond the town confines would feel like double jeopardy, she confided to herself but she said nothing to anybody else. The Principal was a woman of bicultural experience and Min trusted her to recognise intuitively which teachers would cope away from "home".

During a free period Min had a chance to chat to her and she couldn't help relaying her conversation with her brother-in-law.

'So behold, - 'tis a neo-colonialist you see before you.' Min tried to sum up the message and the Principal laughed heartily showing her perfect molars. She said she had been thinking she must have a debriefing session for new staff to see how they were managing.

'But this analysis is too deep for a simple woman who is always trying to attract staff and keep them long enough for a meaningful programme to work.'

Min admitted that it might be presumptuous to impose a foreign language on the young students but it enabled them to become bilingual after all.

'I thought I was starting to adjust until this unexpected exegesis was offered to me and it has thrown me off balance I must say. Self-doubt is my second name,' she said, trying to make light of her reaction.

The Principal looked very serious and spoke almost sternly.

'Remember that we are not submerged in anyone else's culture. Our culture is strong and our language is not threatened. I for one, feel fortunate to be bilingual and you are part of an ongoing process for us. English is an essential tool for our educators and we are really pleased that you and others are willing to come and share your knowledge. So no more of this neo-colonialist stuff please and I hope you enjoy your time here.'

This impassioned declaration expressed some inchoate ideas which Min hadn't formulated and she thanked the Principal warmly who then added,

'By the way, I've arranged for you to do the teaching practice in the school nearest your house. I'll look forward to hearing all about it and please remember what I said - Malo lava.

She was called to the telephone in her office and Min sat thinking about the difference between the islands of the Pacific and the colonised area of Australia and New Zealand. The missionaries had spread the Word most effectively throughout Polynesia and Melanesia but they had not been followed up by settlers with secular ambitions from the old world. While the missionaries in many cases learned the local language for proselytising purposes and to translate the Bible, the colonisers were differently motivated. So she understood where her brother-in-law was coming from but thought that this had not been the time and place to preach his particular gospel.

With her confidence boosted temporarily Min decided to go to the post office and find out what, if any, progress had been made in connecting her telephone. As she walked to the beachfront she told herself to hold on to the positive effect of the Principal's words because any hint of a victim mentality would undermine her chances. It had been her experience before now to detect a subtle dominance by some characters when they sensed timidity and uncertainty in someone they were dealing with. She often struggled with negative expectations and had made up her mind to try and break the habit.

She called into the library to ask Dinah if she had heard any more from Lucky about the get away plans and was told that he was coming to her place this particular evening to put her in the picture.

'Are you still keen - you look a bit under the weather.'

'Yes I am. I think the break is just what I need.'

'We've decided to take our van to the ferry terminal so we'll pick you and Lucky up.'

'I'm off to the post office to see about the phone connection so wish me luck.' Min hitched up her kit and went off in a show of confidence. As she waited to cross the road a busload of youngsters passed her and there was a noisy display of recognition so she waved back cheerily. She had noticed how raucous they could be in groups while they were quietly respectful in a one on one situation. One student had asked her in a moment of curiosity how she could walk along the street on her own and not feel sad.

'Why should I feel sad?'

'Because you can't laugh and joke on your own and have fun.'

Min found this idea odd and for a split second she imagined solitary walkers laughing away to themselves. 'Only on the "funny farm",' she thought crudely.

'Sometimes I'm having a conversation with myself inside my head and I might go so far as to smile to myself and that's a sort of fun.' (Min knew that most of her conversations inside her head were more likely to make her frown.) The student had looked unconvinced. Min was beginning to realise that a single woman going about her business could be the object of speculation or worse still, pity.

'What about the solitary man?' she wondered.

## Chapter 12

'Come outside you lot, or you'll miss the sunset.'

Lucky was sitting on the deck of the hotel on the south coast of the Big Island thinking over the day they had spent underwater with the fish. The other three were relaxing in the lounge bar having a drink and talking to Viliamu the hotelier. Semese had gone to his village after spending the afternoon with him. Lucky's fondness for sunsets harked back to his witness to the magnificent displays from his home in Victoria Australia where the richly nuanced tones never failed to amaze him.

He knew that the equatorial transition of the great orb accompanied by a range of tonal subtleties, would be over in a few minutes and thus the day would glide rapidly into black night. Eyes still dazzled by the garish day would not immediately see the stars pricking the blackness and would have to stare sightlessly at the place where the horizon had been. Robert was the only one to obey the summons and he took a seat in silence. It was Lucky who broke it.

'In places like this you are reminded why the sun was a god for earlier civilisations. Its power to light and warm must have been forever in their thoughts while its disappearance made things mysterious and dangerous.'

'I was thinking along the same lines, but I think it would have been different for the people living in the polar regions than for those in the equatorial ones.'

'You're right. But probably whatever latitude you lived in, the sun must have had divine status because it was obviously connected to life itself.' Min came out into the dark and tried to find somewhere to sit.

'I can't see a bloody thing,' she said as she tripped over Robert's feet. He guided her to a chair and said 'Now now' in a silly voice and was told brusquely to hold his tongue.

Lucky told Min what they had been talking about and she said she had never been in total darkness until she came to the tropics.

'It's utterly terrifying and I can see why we associate black with evil. Apart from being scary, all sorts of horrible things can happen under cover of pitch darkness.' Min shuddered.

'Universal lighting is pretty recent come to think of it, so our thinking has been influenced by darkness.' Lucky sounded thoughtful and added,

'It must have had quite an influence on architects' handling of building design in a fundamentally different environment.'

'All those burning braziers and things were a problem too,' drawled Robert. 'How did the great fire of London start, I wonder. An unattended torch perhaps?'

'Wasn't it something to do with a pudding in a baker's shop?' asked

Lucky.

'Dunno,' said Min 'but the word curfew comes from the French 'couvre- feu' when the citizens were told to put out their fires.'

'Well I never,' said Robert sarcastically, 'and here was I thinking that curfew was a sort of canine statistic.'

'OK, OK old smarty-pants. It's just that I find word origins fascinating.' Lucky went on to talk about the great and final curfew for their neck of the universe when the sun finally burnt itself out. Robert said the inhabitants of earth were more likely to stuff up the planet long before that and Min agreed with him.

'You kiwis are such doomsayers. It must be your dour Presbyterian background.'

'And you Irish larrikins live in a permanent state of deluded optimism.'

'Seize the day,' piped up Dinah from somewhere in the dark.

'How long have you been there eavesdropping?' Robert looked around in the dark and could just make out a figure crouching on the deck.

'I've been listening to your conversation and thinking what a bunch of eggheads I'm saddled with.'

'You obviously haven't met a true egghead,' humphed Robert.

'I've become a fan of the moon since I've been here,' Min stated firmly.

'So you're more of a romantic than an egghead,' said Lucky.

'No - it's just that the moonlight is so welcome after the moonlessness and I'm neither a romantic nor an egghead - thanks all the same Dinah.'

'Hardly romantic in the Mills and Boon meaning of the word perhaps,' Lucky yawned.

'I think I'll grope my way to the sack,' said Dinah from the depths, 'and I

need your help Robert.'

'Yes - goodnight all - see you in the morning - when the sun god rises.'

'Anyone for an early morning swim?' asked Lucky.

A sort of non-committal grunt was all he heard and then Min said 'I'm not an early riser.'

Left alone again, Lucky peered up at the sky and looked for the Southern

Cross.

It was Alpha Centauri which identified it from another possible cross formation and once he located it he always felt a sort of pang of what, he was not sure. Perhaps it was the thought that his very own ancestors never knew of its existence. Contemplating the immeasurable vastness of just the Milky Way thrilled him and at the same time reduced him, while the universe lay outside the scope of his imagination reducing him to total insignificance. Nonetheless life, of which he was a mere atomic part, was a tremulous thing perpetually flaring and extinguishing but demanding respect for its continuance.

In the morning when he went down to the beach, Viliamu was fishing from a small promontory a few yards further out. Lucky plunged through the clear water and trod water while he chatted to Viliamu above him.

'How did you sleep?'

'Like the proverbial log.'

There was a disturbance in the water and Viliamu began to reel in his line. After some minutes of play the fish was hauled up to the rock and he called,

'Breakfast.'

Lucky dived under the water and looked for any other fish that had got away. Having watched the poor fish's death struggle, he thought he might just settle for toast this morning.

## Chapter 13

In spite of what she had said the night before, Min was sitting in the dining room when Lucky returned from his swim.

'I meant to ask you how you were getting on with your telephone man.' She described how she had visited the office after her empowering chat with the Principal and after sitting for at least an hour among the patient supplicants whose wordless dialogues with the high priest seemed to satisfy them, she finally got to state her case again. This time she said that he would be contacted by the college, but this made no noticeable impression. They had reached another stalemate and she sat quietly waiting for a development. Finally, the shortage of cable which had not arrived from New Zealand was quoted again and Min said that she had contacts in Wellington who might be able to speed things up.

'To be honest, I had decided that I'd write a hard luck letter to someone in government and hope to get a conscientious reaction. Aid to the Pacific was quite a hot topic among donor countries and I had nothing to lose but a lot to gain.'

At that moment Robert and Dinah joined them, sniffing the air suffused with the smell of cooking fish. Lucky was feeling hungry and decided he'd manage to forget the elegant swimmer in the pond and enjoy a hearty breakfast after all. Viliamu joined them at the table and a cheerful young man served the steaming food under his direction.

'The bus will be here just after midday so there's time for another dive.' Lucky asked Viliamu if he was a local lad and where he had learned his excellent English.

'I went to secondary school in Auckland and when I left school I worked on the inter-island ferries for a while.'

'I thought I detected a pommy twang,' mumbled Robert but no one asked him what he meant. Min darted a knowing glance in his direction.

'There were often strikes at the worst time of the year and holiday- makers would be stranded. I hated missing out on pay of course but as a greenhorn, I had no say in things.'

'Do the ferry people ever strike here?'

Again Robert got no reaction but Lucky asked the chatty young man what had brought him back home.

'My big feet,' he roared appreciatively at the joke. The others waited for more.

'I inherited a title,' he explained quite solemnly, 'so I came back to shoulder my responsibilities – but it's true – I could never find shoes big enough in New Zealand so I had to wear thongs most of the time. Bloody freezing in winter it was.' He rubbed his legs at the memory. 'I suppose there's a factory making shoes for those big island feet there now. I even thought of starting my own...'

'This fish is the best I have ever tasted,' said Dinah.

'You probably swam with it yesterday, dear girl.'

'Please!' Dinah put her knife and fork down and fixed Robert with her stare. Min rolled her eyes.

Viliamu continued his reminiscing. 'I remember being bare-footed in the school ground one day in the summer and I was called to the Headmaster's office to be reminded that the school required shoes as part of the uniform. My English wasn't good enough at that stage so when the Head said "It doesn't look good when everyone else is wearing shoes, does it?" I answered "Yes Sir." And when he repeated the question and I repeated my answer, he said in a very loud voice "I think you mean 'No Sir', don't you?" and I was completely confused. I'll never forget that feeling. It was a long time before I learnt to answer those questions correctly.' He stared at his own private vision represented by his feet.

Min, ever in didact mode, made a mental note of the story and decided it was a timely reminder of the fishhooks in spoken English.

'Fish and the tag questions are forever linked,' she smiled to herself. Lucky gave his head a ruminative little shake. 'Must say the problem escapes me. But then I'm a monolingual Australian who never has to risk his neck in a foreign language. Even here I'm spared that effort because most people I deal with are fluent in English.'

'Sometimes my colleagues correct my grammar.' Dinah laughed ambiguously and the others weren't sure whether she thought it necessary or a bit of a cheek.

'How do you manage to settle down to village life after the free-for-all in New Zealand?' Robert really wanted to know.

Viliamu pointed out that as a chief he had traditional privileges and there were tourists who provided variety to life. Suddenly, he looked at his watch.

'You lot had better rattle your dags so you can fit in a dive before the bus comes.'

Min and Robert smiled at the quintessential New Zealand expression and

Lucky nudged Dinah.

'Obviously an "in" joke from the country where sheep call the tune.'

While the other three went for their final swim, Lucky went for a walk along the coast to find shells for his growing collection in an old hospital amphora. Shells had not imposed their presence on his consciousness before but now he was fascinated by their beauty variety and function. They were stunning forms of architecture provided by nature as shelter for soft and vulnerable bodies going about their ocean lives. How much the range of his awareness had increased in this richly endowed coastal place!

## Chapter 14

The bus arrived promptly at midday and it was a very contented group who climbed aboard. They thanked Viliamu and his team in the hotel and all said they would be back. The driver collected a small package of food and climbed into his cockpit which was adorned with an indiscriminate array of fetishes – a catholic rosary, some Disneyland kitsch and out-of- season Christmas trinkets. Tinsel festooned his operating space like a bower bird's nest. It was private property, Pacific-style, and the driver was a proud owner.

The engine laboured in what sounded like third gear and Robert wanted to call out that it was time to change down. However that was to be the register for a journey which was going to be interrupted with annoying frequency. Dinah turned to Robert and told him to relax.

They had ground along the partially sealed road for about a kilometre when a stone flew in through one of the window spaces near the back and hit one of the passengers who had also boarded at the hotel. The driver braked in the middle of the road and hauled on the handbrake. He looked in the rear vision mirror and told one of the young men to get off the bus and find the culprit.

The passengers waited in silence while attention was given to the wounded man. He held his fist to his head and spoke to the driver in an undertone. From his seat further down the bus towards the front Lucky saw no evidence of bleeding but he wondered about concussion, so he asked his friends if they had any first aid training. Dinah said she had done a course so long ago that she had forgotten everything except something about pupil dilation.

'Could be a problem with those brown eyes,' she said flippantly.

In the meantime a group had assembled outside the bus and were talking heatedly to the driver through the back windows. He seemed unmoved by their anger but kept a sympathetic gaze on the victim. Feeling excluded from the drama the travellers wondered what they should do and Lucky in particular felt uncomfortable.

'I wonder if we're witnessing some local vendetta,' he said, 'and the envoy is taking his time.'

Finally a formidable looking person came from the same direction and climbed on board with a purposeful stride. There were further questions and forthright input from the driver and finally the injured man still

holding his head, followed the new arrival off the bus. To the dismay of the foursome the driver too left, after switching off the engine.

'Anyone got a scrabble set?' Lucky queried hopelessly.

'We'll have to settle for "I Spy" I'm afraid - but I need a pee,' said Dinah with a note of petulance. 'Even a loo-on-the-rocks would be a welcome sight.'

Min had her eyes shut and was deep breathing. Without opening them, she told Dinah to imagine she was the Queen of England on safari.

'Don't for God's sake make me laugh. What time are we due at the ferry terminal?'

'When we get there it seems,' Robert smiled at Dinah and patted her knee.

'I spy with my little eye something beginning with "D",' Lucky said out of the side of his mouth.

They all looked around and saw the driver coming towards the bus which he climbed aboard without a word or as much as a nod. They meandered on minus the two passengers and made some progress until another stop for a woman on the side of the road, whose plans seemed to require input from the driver; again the engine was switched off.

'I wish he'd leave the engine running,' said Lucky. 'At least then we'd have the illusion of going somewhere sometime. This is not good for my blood pressure.'

When the driver accompanied by the woman and several baskets of produce returned, Lucky approached him and asked what time the ferry left. The answer was a semaphore of the eyebrows as the driver stared straight ahead while Lucky waited, holding on to the pole behind his seat. As he sat down he suggested that they go with the flow because their frustration might be counter productive in the long run.

'Oh for a long drop!' said Dinah through clenched teeth. 'But that would hold us up even more.'

Min suggested that they all tell a story from their childhood to take their minds off things but the others groaned in unison citing the rattling of the bus as one reason for rejecting the idea.

As they drew near to a towering church the congregation began to spill out on to the road and the driver stopped to greet his friends who stood at the open door to exchange what sounded like banter.

'Savile Row would be proud of those blokes in their Sunday Best,' said Lucky in his tired tee-shirt. 'I wonder how they maintain such an impeccable standard of clobber.'

'How do the women do it you mean,' answered Dinah.

Some of the young men, looking dashingly attractive with their bibles under their arms, waved to the visitors and laughed among themselves.

'I feel as if we're miscreants in a tumbril on the way to a nasty end,' snarled Robert and Min said she was pleased to give amusement to these God-fearing youth.

'After all, it's innocent fun - we hope.' She grimaced and rolled her eyes. They talked about the demise of the Sunday Best and Robert recalled how he once had to find a suit for a funeral because he did not possess anything formal enough.

'All those years in the bush I suppose,' Min suggested, which reminded

Lucky that the Bush in Australia meant out of town and did not necessarily preclude formal occasions.

'Australia's squatocracy live in the bush - very different from the New

Zealand bush, I gather.'

Dinah laughed at the image of Robert in a suit and he pretended to look misunderstood.

'So where did you find a suit?' she nudged him playfully.

'At an op shop if you must know. But you wouldn't know about recycling

\- or life in the bush in my sense of the word.'

Dinah admitted that as far as she knew New Zealand was one big farm overrun with sheep.

'And here and there a spot of bush I now realise.'

'Where real men run free from the women who got the vote far too early.' Lucky looked at Min to see her reaction but she just kept a poker face and closed her eyes.

There was a hoot of laughter from the driver as he started up the engine and Lucky once again approached him wordlessly pointing to his watch. Again there was no reaction except for a change of gear, so Lucky returned and slumped into his seat with his mandibular joints working. After a while he said,

'We're not going to make it so dream up those stories - we're going to need them.'

## Chapter 15

The last of the local passengers had left the bus as they drove into the harbour area where the first thing that struck everybody was an absence of activity. Robert leaned forward and said,

'Does anyone else spy what I spy with my little eye?'

'I spy an idyllic south sea harbour of gently waving palms beside an azure sea lapping against pearly white sand,' Lucky paused, swallowed and yelled 'AND THE ARSE END OF A FUCKING FERRY GOING THE WRONG WAY!'

The others were silent as they watched incredulously their travel plans being conveyed out of sight. The driver in the meantime, darted nimbly out of the bus and disappeared into what looked like an unoccupied ticket office. Dinah, whose matter was losing the battle over her mind, also left the bus and went and banged on the door where the driver had disappeared. There was no response and waving to the others she went off disconsolately into some trees.

'Poor old Dinah - I'd forgotten her problem,' said Min. 'She has showed true nobility I reckon.'

A pickup truck drove across the road in front of them and the driver tooted his horn whereupon the owner of their bus appeared and leapt into the pickup which accelerated away from their lives.

'He might have forgotten the keys,' said Robert drily as he got up to go and find Dinah. He shook his head through the window and the other two looked at each other with a sort of stunned amusement. As Robert was passing the small building another man emerged from the door and stopped in surprise when he saw Robert. They had a short discussion and as he walked away Robert opened his arms in a gesture of hopelessness.

'I'd say we are marooned.'

'If only we knew when the next ferry is due.'

When Robert returned with Dinah he told Min and Lucky that the next ferry sailing was about eleven the next morning. For a while they were all enveloped in dismay until Dinah said she'd found a nice little bay area where they could swim and then come back refreshed, to sleep in the bus. Robert said he was ravenous and wondered if there was a shop in the little sealed building. He and Lucky went to see if they could find a way in but it was locked so they all gathered up their belongings and followed Dinah to the small hideaway.

Their spirits rose a little at the sight of the tiny inlet edged with huge rocks which formed a perfect swimming pool. Any fervour that it might have aroused was soon snuffed out by the awareness of the night ahead without food or bedding.

Min asked Dinah where the "powder room" was and they set off for somewhere beyond the rocks at the edge of the sand. When they came back the two men were chatting and Dinah said now was the time for Robert to show his bushcraft.

'We don't need any Butlins-type chivvying,' he said. 'In fact we're talking about whether we could sleep here or go back to the bus.'

Lucky thought it would be more adventurous to sleep in the open as long as it didn't rain, in which case they'd make a dash for the bus.

'OK,' said Robert. 'We need to find dry vegetation to put in small hollows in the sand as far up as we can, to be well beyond the high tide mark.' They set about finding dried pandanus some of which Min stuffed into her worn and grubby teeshirt to use as a pillow.

Robert announced that he wanted to skinny-dip and Dinah agreed. The water was warm and it was too good an opportunity to flout the conventions which were universal in these islands. While they divested themselves of their scanty clothing, Min and Lucky wandered off to check if there were people nearby or better still, if they could find something to eat. It was several hundred metres to any sort of navigable road and not very long before they found some papaya trees with fruit they could reach. Lucky commented that he had his Swiss Army knife in his pack so they would be able to slice the fruit and dig out the seeds. Min found some long leaves and tried to plait them into a carrying vessel while Lucky commented on the skills of the local people for using renewable materials instead of the ubiquitous plastic that they took for granted at home.

'The planet would be a lot healthier if we had not industrialised and set our goals beyond its scope. Problem is man's desire for knowledge might be our undoing.'

'It's God's fault - if he hadn't made the fruit of the tree of knowledge a forbidden thing we might have been happy to live in eternal blissful ignorance.' Min tried to knot the ends of the plait and sat back, saying she was to be pitied because she had lost powers of survival and hadn't replaced them with more sophisticated ones.

'I've always thought I belong in a cave waiting for someone to provide for my basic needs.' She lay on her back and laughed helplessly at the idea while Lucky said he wasn't much better.

'I can't fix a car engine I'm ashamed to say.' Min smiled sympathetically and said testingly,

'For all I know you can split an atom.'

Lucky threw his head back and laughed in turn.

'Hardly a survival skill wouldn't you agree?'

When they got back to their overnight accommodation Dinah and Robert were lying with towels wrapped around them and sound asleep.

'Room service,' said Lucky as he prodded Robert with his foot. The latter sprang up at the sight of the fruit and when he saw the army knife he hugged Lucky. Dinah woke to see the three of them slicing the fruit and slurping it into their mouths.

'Manna from heaven,' she cried. 'Keep some for me you lot.'

'Only if you tell the first story,' said Lucky as he handed her the knife.

'OK - you're on - but I need to feed my habit first.'

## Chapter 16

Dinah screwed up her neat nose as she percolated sand through her fingers. Robert had disposed of the detritus of their feast and he was sitting looking expectantly at her; there was a lot that neither of them knew about the other's past in a different country.

'OK - you asked for it.' She smiled to herself and folded her arms around her knees.

'I remember our Uncle Rudy - more by hearsay than in the flesh because I was the youngest of the family. Anyway - he was a regular visitor who gradually wore out his welcome and his name is never mentioned these days except when the story of my misdemeanour is told for the umpteenth time. Everyone says he was a very vain man who never appeared without his little pork pie hat on and very shiny shoes. He wore a toupee which he was never ever seen without until the day I managed to find it off his head. I was about two and a half and went into his bedroom and found this thing and removed it. I have no recollection of any of this, but I've heard the story often enough to vouch for its accuracy.' She looked around at her attentive audience who murmured appreciatively.

'Anyway a hue and cry blew up very early in the morning when it was discovered that the precious toupee was missing. Apparently Uncle Rudy was always up and about before everyone else and was booted and spurred when breakfast was ready. You can imagine the shock when he appeared as bald as a badger in a right state - to the point that my brother laughed so much that he had to be put in the woodshed to calm down. The more responsible members of the family set about the hunt. I was no help because I didn't talk properly at that stage so I just followed everyone around. Finally Linda my sister, found the darned thing in the cat's box with the cat lying on it contentedly. Uncle Rudy went ape and swore like a trouper - something the family had never witnessed before - and said he'd have fleas for the rest of his life. Tessa made things worse by offering to dust it with flea powder and he lunged at her in fury, according to the story. Well - this episode is given as the reason why the old bugger didn't leave Mum anything in his will and I always feel so guilty each time it comes up - which it does fairly regularly - that I go out and buy Ma a bunch of flowers.'

There was a light clapping which Dinah acknowledged with a nod of her head before she said,

'I nominate Robert to regale us with a dark secret from his past,' but he shook his head saying he couldn't match such a heinous crime. After some argy bargy between them, Lucky offered to solve the problem and get something equally wicked off his chest.

Dropping his glasses to the end of his nose he gazed around at his audience in an avuncular manner and cleared his throat. He explained first of all that he had been what was currently known as a bit of a nerd at school but at home it was a different matter.

'You know those reverend brothers wielded a mean cane and I was bloody terrified of ever getting it. I even felt miserable when other kids got it - so you can see I was a wimp. In fact Mum and Dad didn't approve of corporal punishment so the whole school thing was pretty alien to me, while at home I could afford to be a bit more of a brat I s'pose. However there was one time when Dad was tempted to lay into me and I can't say I blame him because I effectively wrecked his friend's car - not any old car but a Daimler no less.

'I can remember when I was really young having a fantastic ride in the thing and thinking it was like a railway carriage - all spit and polish and leather - you get the picture. Well I was about four or five when Dad's friend came to see us with a young woman whom he was no doubt keen to impress although it wasn't the woman he married in the end I understand. Perhaps I had something to do with that;' - Lucky paused and laughed to himself - 'anyway, this car belonged to a generation of automobiles which didn't have locking petrol caps and I can remember seeing this shiny thing on the side of it and I unscrewed it. It couldn't have been very tightly screwed on if I could do that, come to think of it. The next thing I did, which I don't remember at all, was pour a watering can of water into this inviting-looking hole. I must have screwed the thing back on because it was in place later when the shit hit the fan.

'When poor old Dave - I think his name was - hopped into the car with the girlfriend to go somewhere to further the relationship, the engine refused to fire and it was some time before the awful truth dawned on anyone. In the meantime I was tucked up in bed and unavailable for comment. They had to drain the petrol tank and go for a can of petrol several blocks away. I must remind you that we didn't have a car at this time, so that would have been the end of any romantic developments I imagine, by the time the problem was solved. According to Mum I was lucky that Dad's fury had dissipated somewhat by the next morning and I can remember the defence she offered was that I had not been malicious. It was the first time I ever heard that word and whenever I hear it now I remember the story and feel sort of guilty - perhaps because I wasn't walloped at the time. Anyway I never saw that car again so that was a sort of punishment pr'haps...'

Lucky propped his glasses back and looked thoughtful. For a moment Min wondered if his emotions might spill over but he winked at her and said 'Beat that.'

The audience applauded lying on their backs and Robert commented on the early signs of mischief that the two Aussies showed.

'Let's wash away our sins,' chirped Min, 'before the sun goes...' and Lucky sprang up in agreement and slid into the water. They sculled around as the rocks turned deep red in the sun's last rays and Min said her story was about a childhood sin too which would be seen these days as a bit of mischief laced with enterprise.

'It's what we have in common,' laughed Dinah, 'and why we've ended up right here - wouldn't you agree?'

One by one they climbed out of the water and slowly dried themselves with sandy towels. It was dark now and the makeshift beds looked inviting.

After a brief nestling into the leaves and a muffled 'goodnight' the only sound was the gentle lap of the water.

## Chapter 17

Lucky lay awake thinking of the "aitu" which were for the local people a frightening aspect of the night.

'If I stay in this country long enough I might start to fear ghostly presences too,' he thought. There was something about the spirit of the place which could challenge the rational mind but so far, he remained in his usual mental space which was full of the existence of the heavenly bodies, so clearly visible in the absence of ambient light.

The moon in its third quarter was now positioned against the galactic clouds and his mind turned to the vast Pacific where ancient mariners had sailed their craft, by the patterns of the heavens towards new lands. He thought about how modernism had masked the genius of these early explorers whose powers of observation and oral recording were staggering.

The sea, like a great planetary thorax evoked the eternal as it rose and fell remorselessly, eroding – depositing – destroying - feeding the land masses around its edge. Its power both lured and terrified humans like a frontier everlastingly present and mysterious. Lucky began to feel drowsy as he thought of the swell, rising and falling...

Some time later Min was woken by something moving in the vegetation behind their small encampment and she tensed, listening. She gave a little cough to see if anyone else had heard it but her companions were unaware and were possibly traversing some earlier event in their lives at that moment. She felt very alone. To take her mind off the sensation, she tried to imagine a mirror creature somewhere in infinite space, contemplating and puzzling over its limitations just as she was. But she would never know and nor would they - if they existed. She felt cold and exposed longing for the luxury of a warm comfortable bed. How much longer would it be before the sun rose and made her long to be cool again?

The next thing she knew it was daylight and she heard Robert and Dinah moving around in the water. She wondered if they were making love so she lay still and waited until she heard them speak. She sat up and saw that Lucky had disappeared.

'Guten morgen,' called Dinah. 'Our scout has gone to look for food perhaps.'

Min stood up and stretched her limbs which were aching. A swim might be the best way to relax so she asked about the water temperature.

'A bit cooler than last night...'

'But very refreshing,' said Robert encouragingly. 'Get your gear off and join us.'

While they were limbering up in the water Lucky reappeared with the news that there was a village not too far away where they could buy some food. He and Robert set off to negotiate while Dinah and Min removed the traces of their makeshift beds.

'It's called unmaking the beds,' laughed Dinah as they sat down to wait for the food.

This could have been a moment to exchange confidences but neither of them was inclined to chitchat, so their conversation turned on the experience of living close to nature.

'Coming from Queensland, I'm fairly used to walking around scantily clad but I don't suppose it's the same for you.'

Min agreed but said she was quickly getting used to stripping off because she found the heat oppressive. She suggested that along with the clothes perhaps one stripped off inhibitions and Dinah said that was not a bad thing.

'Just mind you don't go troppo though. It's been known to happen. They say there's an old bloke in the hills who's forgotten where he comes from and is as wizened as a nut.'

It was some time before the two men returned looking gleeful with a pandanus kit which contained some banana leaf packages of still warm food.

'Anyone for eleni?' Robert teased Dinah knowing how much she loathed it.

'You know I hate the stuff you smart devil,' said Dinah making a grab for one of the packages. She recognised it as palusami which she had acquired a real taste for. After a comic little skirmish Robert handed her a package and there was silence, except for a smacking of lips.

'There is nothing that humans will not eat,' said Lucky between mouthfuls, 'given a sufficient degree of hunger.'

'Rats!' said Min.

'Is that an uncomely refutation of my statement or the naming of an edible commodity?' Lucky looked pompously over his glasses.

'Both.'

'It's just that you've never been sufficiently hungry - only peckish,'

pronounced Robert.

'Look - I'd rather die than eat a rat.' Min was passionate.

'What if you ate it by mistake? I know it's unlikely where you come from - but say you were in a yert or something and had to accept hospitality yert-style - or appear rude - what would you do?' asked Dinah. 'I do know what you mean though,' she added kindly.

'What about Catholics who weren't allowed to eat meat on Fridays? If they were invited somewhere and meat was dished up by the well- meaning heathens what did they do?'

'They either piously announced that if they ate the meat they would commit a mortal sin, (which was always a good party opener) or, they nibbled away at everything on the plate leaving the sin-making flesh to one side.' Lucky's face was doctrinal.

'"I'll have the ratatouille without the rat," is what you say,' advised

Robert.

'I've never been able to understand what the difference is between meat on a Thursday as opposed to a Friday anyway,' said Dinah.

'Or the difference between meat and fish for that matter - they're both paid-up members of the animal kingdom and jolly good protein. By the way - here's an interesting question. For ten free trips on the ferry - why is tinned corned beef called "pisupo"?'

Lucky, the quizmaster, peered at his audience. 'D'you give up?' They gave up.

'Because - the first tinned food to come here from overseas was pea soup - translated as pisupo - and the next lot was corned beef from New Zealand and because it was in tins it was also called pisupo, which had become a sort of generic term for food in tins.' Lucky wiped his hands on some big leaves. 'Sorry about the free trips. Better luck next time.'

'Well, I never...'said Robert as he reached for the last little package.

## Chapter 18

There was a sigh of relief once the four weekenders were aboard the ferry because at one moment it had looked as if they were to be stranded for another night. The protocol around getting aboard was something they had not expected.

After clearing up the little beach which they were almost reluctant to leave, they had walked to the wharf to check at the ticket office (which was now manned) as to exactly how long they would have to wait. Being reassured that they had at least two hours, they had set out to walk in the opposite direction to where they had spent the night.

The sun had some way to go before reaching its zenith but they were careful to stay in the shade under the trees which bordered the unsealed track. After a short time, they met a young man coming towards them with a wide smile indicating that he was not shy of strangers and they greeted him in the local language. It was a surprise to hear him ask them in perfect English, if he could help them. Lucky explained how they came to be there and the young man laughed when he heard about the missed ferry.

'I would like to show you my village as long as you can get back to the wharf in time,' he said graciously and it was too good an offer to turn down.

'We've got our tickets so that shouldn't be a problem.' Robert's irony was met with polite silence.

Min said later that it was like leaving normal time and moving into another dimension. It wasn't long before a retinue of lively children joined them and the young man introduced himself as Perenese, who had recently become the chief of his village on the death of his father. It turned out also that he had been educated in New Zealand and was working there when the call came. Robert asked him if he had found it difficult to slot back into village life and his answer was equivocal.

'Now I have many responsibilities for the family.'

When they arrived in the village compound there was an air of industry and the old people were sitting cross-legged in the shade and fanning themselves. Perenese introduced his friends to his mother who was busy putting out washing and he told her about their ferry experience which made her laugh also. She invited them to have a meal but he said they would miss the ferry again - a possibility he again found very amusing.

Then suddenly he said something to one of the boys who promptly and with astonishing agility, shinned up one of the nearby coconut palms where he knocked down four fruit which thudded almost at their feet. With the same deft speed Perenese chopped down a sapling, sharpened it to a point with his machete and drove it into the ground. He then punctured the drinking coconuts on the spike and handed one to each of the visitors who raised the vessels as if toasting with a fine wine. Min recorded the experience in her journal as a singular moment which had all the elements of physical relief from thirst and which amounted almost to a sacrament. For a moment she felt like a relaxed pantheist.

The children watched with round eyes as the strangers drank gratefully and Perenese asked where they could meet when he went to the other island, as he did on a regular basis. Robert found a scrap of paper on which he wrote his name and address and handed it to their host thanking him for a welcome interlude.

'It was worth missing the ferry after all,' said Dinah as she placed her empty coconut on the ground.

Lucky fished in his pocket and found some coins which he wanted to give to the children but he asked if it was in order to do so. Perenese said the children were not used to spending money but he would take care of it and buy them something when he went to town. As Min noted, the splendid teeth were witness to the absence of corner shops.

Back at the wharf a crowd had assembled in the meantime and there were several pickups queued at the wharf gates. A large man wearing a braided cap at a jaunty angle stood outside a too-small sort of sentry box with a look of authority. In spite of the heat he was also wearing a jacket with epaulettes and he surveyed the throng with a genial smile. Min said the comic opera effect meant that she half expected him to burst into song at any moment while Robert suggested that he had raided the costume department of the musical "South Pacific". This amusement was cut short when he opened the gates and ushered in the pickups while holding back the foot passengers with the sole authority of an outstretched arm.

Then the main gates were closed again and a small group of men appeared on the gangway with a coffin. When they approached the small side gate they were saluted extravagantly by the sentry who accompanied them to the waiting bus. The crowd watched in subdued silence as the men tried to negotiate their load through the front door of the bus with the help of manic hand gestures from the official. But when the coffin was suddenly upended to ease its passage there was a general gasp which gave way to deep visceral laughter. The coffin must have been empty, surely.

'Poor corpse,' spluttered Min. 'This is one time I would have liked to own a video camera.'

Once this operation was over the official returned to his post and opened the main gates again.

Thereupon there was surge forward which left the four ticket holders at the rear of the crowd and looking as if they would miss out once again on the means of escape from paradise. Robert swore loudly and when they finally passed the sentry man he berated him for a chaotic system. Lucky asked if there was a limit to the number permitted on the craft but all he got was a charming smile and a doff of the cap. Min asked the others later if the gesture had meant that he didn't understand or that he was in character and wanted to maintain the comic theme.

On board Min began to feel reality seeping into her consciousness and to feel guilty about her missed classes. She hoped that the Principal hadn't worried enough to send someone to her house to find out why she hadn't come to the college, because earlier she had asked her to check in that case. Without a phone and knowing few people she had felt particularly insecure. But now that she had good friends life was changing.

## Chapter 19

'Now for your story Min,' said Lucky, 'to entertain us in default of any electronic media on this sea-going vessel.'

'Gather round then,' she said redundantly to the other three huddled uncomfortably close under a derrick.

'According to my mother I was a bit sickly but I think they were anxious parents with a first child. Anyway my mother always had one or two tonics up her sleeve and at this stage it was something dire called milk of magnesia. On this particular night I apparently went to bed like a lamb fortified by the tonic, and the parents went downstairs to have drinks before dinner with the host and hostess who were very impressed by my angelic behaviour. At this point in the story my mother usually digresses with the suggestion that it was uncharacteristic and they should have been suspicious.' She wiped her face with the bottom of her tee-shirt and took a deep breath.

'God - I'm hot. So to cut a long story short - parents preening themselves in lounge - daughter of owner comes running out to say her bed was all wet - all rush upstairs to room above daughter's - door opened on scene of shivering brat standing at the overflowing basin - empty blue bottle in hand - mother rushes over to pull out plug etc. - child screams - parents mortified - end of hotel visits even though friends were terribly decent about vandalism. So here ends another watery tale. And I'm an aquarian - what about you Lucky?'

'How old were you?' he asked, ignoring the question.

'About two and a half I think.'

'Who'd have kids?' mumbled Robert who said he was feeling seasick and would have to move now that the ferry had changed direction and the sun was beating down on them.

Lucky and Min were able to find a seat inside while Dinah and Robert went to the stern of the boat where they leaned on a rail. Lucky mentioned the hilarious episode with the coffin and told Min that he'd never forget one of his first shopping expeditions to a general store on the edge of town where they were selling coffins along with ice cream and cabin biscuits.

'There's something honest about the way death is handled here I reckon,' said Min. 'Those graves in the front garden where your ancestors become part of the garden furniture are a bit shocking at first but when you think about it, it's sort of healthy.'

Lucky remembered his arrival in the country in the evening and going along the airport road he witnessed a wake in one of the open fales.

'The body was on a sort of raised platform under blazing lights and all the family was seated around it, presumably praying. It was an interesting introduction to the place.'

Min said she was getting a headache from the heat so Lucky offered to take her rather grubby towel and find some water to dampen it. He finally found a tap over a dirty basin and thought nostalgically of the refreshing coconut milk; for a moment he was tempted to cup his hand under the tap to slake his acute thirst but he knew it was too risky. Instead he drenched the towel and took it to Min who wound it round her throbbing head.

'You were wise to bring your farmer's hat,' she told him and he said it was just about de rigueur in Australia. 'Technically they're known as akubras, for some reason,' he added.

'Have you ever heard of a wideawake?' she asked.

'I think it's another name for a sooty tern.'

'It's a sort of sunhat in one of Katherine Mansfield's short stories.'

'Who's Katherine Mansfield ?'

Min heaved a sigh. Was there no end to the ignorance of her country's most famous people - apart from mountaineers and footballers whom they claimed as their own.

Dinah appeared and said that Robert had been violently ill so she had to leave him to it.

'I thought you kiwis were hardened seafarers with all that water around you,' she said when she saw Min's obvious discomfort under the towel.

'Kiwis are flightless and nocturnal,' she muttered disconsolately into her kneecaps. 'You're getting them mixed up with albatrosses.'

'You look more like a Bedouin than a kiwi at the moment anyway.'

'A nomadic kiwi - an interesting combination,' laughed Lucky under his sensible hat.

The drive from the ferry terminal was nearly the last straw after the discomfort of the two-hour crossing in choppy waters. Dinah drove while Robert slumped beside her and Min cursed for not bringing any painkillers because she was feeling really ill. Lucky said she was showing all the signs of dehydration and he asked Dinah to stop at the first shop they saw. He bought several bottles of tonic water and the army knife was pressed into service again. Min tried to remember whether she had finished the last of her boiled water in the refrigerator because she knew that all she wanted was to go to bed and lose consciousness for hours and hours.

Robert on the other hand, was feeling very hungry and feeble, so after Min had been dropped off and Lucky had helped her to carry her things inside as well as to check that she drank as much water as she could, the other three decided they needed a good square meal. At such times Robert said he craved one of the square meals which his mother specialised in and it involved lamb and roasted potatoes. Dinah and Lucky decided that it had to be beef in some guise to qualify for square, whereupon they all groaned, tortured by their memories.

They had to settle for a generic Chinese chop suey and local beer after which as Lucky said,

'When you're hungry you'll eat anything,' and Robert piped up nasally,

'But were you hungry enough to test the rat theory?'

Dinah looked at Lucky and sighed. 'What a pity his mother didn't teach him manners to go with her square meals!'

Before taking Lucky to his place Dinah wanted to check on Min's welfare. She knocked gently on the bedroom window but there was not a sound in reply so they all went home to fall into bed and die to the world.

## Chapter 20

Polly had decided that she would try and learn the local language having determined to immerse herself in the culture.

She went to see Eturasi in the newspaper office to find out how to go about it. He seemed surprised but at the same time pleased when he heard of her idea, thinking that it was not all that usual for anglophones to bother to learn the language; they simply didn't need to.

'English has such international cachet,' he said, 'and the local language is consequently accorded a lower status - even by some of the native speakers I'm afraid. Of course English is the language of technology but it's the local language which expresses the spiritual roots of the people.'

'I regret not keeping my Spanish up to the same level as English because my mother always spoke to us in it when we were young. Then we went to school and it took a back seat for a year or two. Now in the US it's the second most spoken language and I want to take it up again when I go home. Gone are the days when it was thought that one language would impoverish another.'

Eturasi told Polly that his young brother showed academic promise and was living in their village not too far from town.

'He could probably help you and at the same time learn a lot himself. What's more you could spend some time in the village if you wanted to. His name is Jupeli and he comes to town at least once a week so would you like to meet him?'

It suddenly dawned on Polly that he was talking about the young man who had told her about his brother that day on the beach. She felt embarrassed and gave him an edited version of her meeting with him.

'I think I need someone older - with authority I mean,' she said lamely.

'Like me you mean?' Eturasi smiled.

'Perhaps.'

He pointed out that he had very little formal knowledge but Polly told him that she had little formal grammar in English.

'So we'd both be learning.'

She would feel more comfortable with him she knew. They discussed a possible venue and Eturasi asked Polly if Jim would be interested in joining in. She bit her lower lip - a gesture of doubt which he would get used to - and said she'd ask him.

His answer was in the expected negative ('I can't see the point - and anyway I'm hopeless at languages,') but if she needed a chaperone...

'I don't - but I think Eturasi might.'

As she made her way to her first lesson with him on his front verandah, Polly wondered if she would have any aptitude for what was essentially a spoken language with a limited alphabet. At the same time Eturasi was having misgivings about the project. He wanted to hand it over to someone else but teachers qualified to teach his mother tongue as a second language were almost non-existent; he therefore felt a certain responsibility to be a pioneer. At least he knew what he didn't know and it could be a chance to make some interesting discoveries.

The house was European-style with furniture made from the rich rain forest timber and large plaited mats of varying textures covering much of the floor. Polly noticed the interesting curtain fabric of a bold design in black and reddish brown - colours which Eturasi said had come from New Zealand where the Maori patterns had a most distinctive style.

'Luatasi brought them back from one of her New Zealand trips - it's like a second home to her.'

'Have you ever thought of moving there?'

'No. I love this place too much and I want to help to keep people informed through the newspaper. It's so important to cover the local goings-on and to try and keep the politicians honest.'

'Is that very difficult?'

'Not if you have the right contacts.' Eturasi smiled. 'The churches too - they have a lot of power. And sometimes it's hard to know where culture ends and religion begins - they're so intertwined here now. Anyway this isn't what you came to listen to.'

Eturasi had prepared some sentences useful for buying food at the market and Polly had to say them over and over. She wanted to write them down but he thought she should train her ear. She found herself making all sorts of weird associations in her head to try and establish the sounds in her mind and then they tried a little role play with some vegetables which Eturasi found in the kitchen. It became an amusing game and Polly found herself having fun as she mouthed the unfamiliar and almost meaningless sounds.

On her way home she passed Min's house and was tempted to go and see her but she knew she would erase the magic formulae ringing in her head. When she got home she wrote down what she was saying because it was all very well to train her ear but it was her eyes that were the conduit to her brain she'd decided.

Jim laughed when he saw what she had written and said it looked like a secret code.

'Might as well be,' said Polly ruefully. 'This is going to even harder than I imagined.'

'I hope it's worth the effort - I've been thinking - it won't be any use outside of this country.'

'As I said - I want to get more out of the experience of living here.'

'You're a real idealist Poll - and I mean that kindly. I'm just a lazy sod and I'm starting to vegetate. I think I'll take up the guitar again - trouble is, it's back home and I don't want to buy one here. It crossed my mind when we were up at the poet's grave that I should have brought the thing with me but I didn't think of it in the rush of leaving.'

'I've just had an idea. I should write a tune to go with the words I

learned yesterday and see if it's any easier to remember them.'

Jim warbled operatically 'How much is the breadfruit?' and laughed at the image of Polly as Julie Andrews, singing and smiling her way among the admiring vendors at the local market.

'Very funny Mister Johansen. Talking of markets - what do we need for the meal you promised to cook?'

'Let's invite Min. I'm keen to hear about that trip she went on and I hear she's having fun and games in the school where her students are trying out their teaching skills.'

'I can't work out whether that woman has a chequered existence or whether she is endowed with superior descriptive powers.'

'It's a bit of both I'd say,' said Polly.

## Chapter 21

Min woke feeling disoriented after the soundest sleep she had had for weeks on the morning after the ferry trip home and she wanted to stay in bed for the rest of the day. It was one of those times when she indulged in a fleeting fantasy that she was a completely free agent. Then she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to have started her teaching supervision the day before in the school she had been assigned. She felt a rush of guilt as she leaped out of bed and got herself ready. It was so difficult to hurry. No sooner had she had some breakfast than she needed another shower but instead she set off in the heat for the college. It would be impossible to describe the experience which had been a sort of baptism of the new and she must try and capture her feelings on paper before they lost their impact.

The Principal greeted her with her usual calm smile which contrasted with Min's muddled blurtings and it made her feel a bit inept. Perhaps one day she would be able to acquire the dignity of acceptance of the unforeseen.

She gathered up her books and found her way to the high school where the students were already getting on with the job without her. They too seemed unperturbed by her absence but the Headmistress was a little more put out. She sat down in her office while Min stood to be instructed in the ways of the school which included a welcome ceremony to take place the next day. It was customary to introduce newcomers to the whole assembly and she Min, would be expected to dance as the guest of honour.

Min wanted to laugh out loud at the idea thinking it was a merry prank to tell her such a thing but when she was told later by one of the students that it was indeed part of the protocol of a welcome, to invite the guests to dance, she went hot and cold. What a pity they had waited for her return...

She had no talent for dancing in any genre but the local style was unique to the country and needed years of practice. Perhaps she would simply refuse to be humiliated as she knew she would be because she had also been told gleefully by another student that she would have to dance first on account of her status as college teacher.

That evening she felt like a zoo exhibit or worse, one of those tragic dancing bears and could not concentrate on anything. If only she had a telephone and could talk to Dinah who would put the 'bizzo' (as she would call it) into perspective. In default of a real conversation she had an imaginary one in which Dinah told her to ham it up.

'The alternative is to be a right old kiwi sourpuss and you won't live it down,' Min heard her say in her head.

With this dubious counsel she finally fell asleep.

That was how she was able to relive the strange ordeal later over the meal with Polly and Jim but the benign legacy of the adventure on the Big Island was almost eclipsed.

First she had to describe the gargantuan Headmistress who ruled the school like a fiefdom of subordinates into which Min had stumbled as a sort of prize booty.

'I sat up on the stage next to the Head and tried to smile at all the eager faces down below who seemed to be waiting for the highlight of their day - or year perhaps. The speeches had been made and laughter had been provoked and then one of the older boys - about fourteen I guess, came up on the stage and began to pluck a guitar in an amateurish way. I felt my stomach heave and thought that that would be a great moment for a cataclysm like an earthquake, but instead I was invited by a swoop of the authoritarian arm beside me to arise and begin the ordeal - a sort of gauche pastiche of a ballet crossed with a highland fling. One minute I bowed low with an outstretched leg and then I hopped about with one arm in the air - all the while grinning and wagging my head from side to side like a marionnette - and praying for someone else to join in. It seemed as if I was engaged thus for an eternity and the kids were roaring with laughter and clapping. Finally in desperation, I looked behind at the students who must have been waiting for some sort of signal, because they slowly and with what I can only describe as contrasting grace, began to glide around the space reducing me to a clownish clodhopper.' Min dropped her head at the recollection and Jim said,

'How long did you keep up your act?'

'I retired almost immediately and sat down to be told by the immovable figure beside me that I had done well. I looked at her with flared nostrils and said nothing. I was out of breath anyway but honestly, I felt murderous. I still haven't got over it but at least I know that I broke the ice that day and another persona I can call on if necessary, is in the wings. It's a bit like growing a cultural carapace and you can put it on whenever you find yourself in a totally unfamiliar situation.'

Polly said that it was interesting to be out of your comfort zone and to develop a strategy for not losing your cool.

'In a strange way - making a fool of yourself sort of strengthens your self confidence.'

'They say that pride comes before a fall so perhaps the reverse is true.' Jim looked pleased with himself and added that he thought maybe a sense of self had released the clown.

'However there's a time and place admittedly, for the bull to charge around in the china shop.'

'I think you were spectacular and I'm not sure that I could have done what you did,' said Polly.

She noticed that Min seemed more relaxed as well as articulate. It was certainly more challenging to leave your comfort zone alone, instead of with a friend or partner who could listen to your problems and share them. Min had that lean look of someone who worried a lot and occasionally beat herself up. It was a change to hear her wry take on the demands put on her in her teaching capacity and Polly was glad that her own job was a bit of a doddle.

Min had been keen to hear about the first language lesson and laughed at Jim's idea of Polly having to sing her orders at the market. She had suggested that she write an opera of all the little dialogues she learnt and it might turn out to be a pioneering language teaching technique. They had not got around to talking about the Big Island trip but there would always be another day.

## Chapter 22

Yushi had not been in touch since the burglary so Min wondered if he had decided to return to Japan. She hoped that was not the case so she was pleased to meet him the afternoon when she was on her way yet again to the post office to beg for a telephone. He introduced her to a rather beautiful young woman who was clearly not Japanese.

'My new girlfriend. Her name is Fanua. This is Min my English teacher.' The young woman smiled and shook Min's hand and Min asked her if she lived locally.

'Of course,' chipped in Yushi. 'Her English very good.'

Min said she was off to the post office to ask about her phone connection and Yushi said they were going to have a drink at a nearby café so could she join them when she was finished.

'Wish me luck and hope to see you soon.' Min was not hopeful but her mother's letters were becoming importunate. (She could not understand why it was a problem and thought she might write to her local member of parliament!)

The response from the post office was positive to Min's acute surprise, and she was told that they would be coming to her house within the week. She joined Yushi and Fanua with the joyous news and Fanua said she was fortunate. Her parents whose village was not far from the town, still did not have a telephone connection.

Yushi said that the police had come to their house and filled in forms about the burglary but they had heard no more. They had new locks on the doors as well as new things because the volunteer organisation did have insurance. He smiled at Fanua who told Min that they were better off than before.

'Oh!' said Min wondering exactly what was meant.

As they were leaving the café Min saw Lucky walking towards her and waving. She had not seen him since the trip. He said he had some shopping to do and then he could drive her home so she went to the market where most of the stalls had emptied for the day but where there were still a couple of diehards with some cheap offerings. They went to the butcher's where his last visit had almost converted him into a vegetarian, he said. An old man had come in with a sack dripping with blood and had gone through to the back of the shop. After a necessary interval, the butcher presented Lucky with two very fresh pork chops whose all too obvious provenance was almost overwhelming...

'Yuk, yuk yuk,' squawked Min. 'That's why I'm a vegetarian!'

'Well, it was a whole day before I could face the things but face them I did.'

Min told Lucky that it looked as if she'd have a phone connection in about a week.

'Great! That calls for more than a cup of tea.'

They called into the bond store and bought some Australian red wine which Lucky said would probably not be his choice at home. They talked about the trip and how unreal it now seemed and Min entertained him with her description of the humiliation which had been waiting for her. He too said he didn't know what he would have done if faced with such a situation. The worst that had happened since his return was that the hospital generator had broken down and they were frantically trying to get a technician from New Zealand. Min said that put her thing into perspective and Lucky said that both were in a way, a test of personal fortitude.

'But I don't have to look ridiculous - simply calm.'

'I suppose you have to live up to your name - and by the way - how did you come to be given such an optimistic moniker?'

He took a sip of wine and said he should have dropped it in favour of his real name - Michael - when he left Australia, but somehow he'd forgotten and now regretted it. Min said she would rather call him Michael and he agreed.

'It has more gravitas,' she told him.

'It was like this - my good mother was a friend of the local priest who presided over the parish of Saint Mary Underwire' ('NOo!' cried Min incredulous, at which Lucky/Michael just grinned.) 'His riverind wiz an Oirishmin with an interest in the geegees, t'beshure, and the parish was getting short of funds - I've run out of accent - so holy father wanted to run a raffle - d'you know what that is ?'

'Of course.'

'Now it so happened that we had a very fine piano in our front room which I had refused to learn as a nipper and which was played only when my aunt came to visit.' He rubbed his hand over his face and meditatively swirled his wine in the glass.

'Look, this is an awful story Min, and you'll be shocked as I am - now that I'm a grown man. Anyway, Father O'Raffaello - I can't remember his real name but that'll do - talked my poor God- and priest-fearing mother into donating the bloody instrument to the parish and - mirabile dictu - I won it! 'God moves in mysterious ways', said the wily priest when he came to tell us and he christened me 'Lucky' as a sort of joke. I was only young so the name stuck. It's more ironic these days I have to tell you. And my mother once told me that she thought my winning the piano invalidated all the merit she had earned in God's eyes in donating it to charity. But the good man, with fine casuistical logic told her she was twice blessed.'

'Christ,' said Min with feeling. She hardly knew what to say but Michael/Lucky asked her to keep the murky story under her hat.

'In fact, I'm surprised that I've told you - because it's the first time anyone's asked me pr'haps.'

'What happened to the money? It reminds me of the medieval indulgences and the end justifies the means.'

'I have no idea what worthy cause it went to. Can you imagine getting away with something like that these days? Did you have something called Peter's Pence in New Zealand? I once heard that it went into a special Vatican fund to buy and sell arms - a truly noble cause.' Michael stared at Min to get her reaction and he was surprised to see tears welling up in her eyes. In spite of it she smiled and said,

'We was had Mister!'

As he drove home after dropping Min off at her place, Michael/Lucky reflected on Min's character. He had the feeling that she had been hurt in the past. She was a mixture of the dogged and the vulnerable and he felt a real empathy with her while at the same time he sensed a "noli me tangere" side to her personality. As he reflected on the situation which various expats found themselves in, the word 'waifs' popped into his conscious mind.

'Waifs and strays - that's what we are, washed up here on these unfamiliar shores without entitlement.'

An incredible lassitude surged through him all of a sudden and he lay down for a few moments which became a whole night and he woke in broad daylight fully clothed, with a sour taste in his mouth.

## Chapter 23

Mr Telephono as Min had come to think of him, was as good as his word and he arrived while Yushi was having his first class for a week or two. She had struggled against the wall of heat to get home in time to prepare some work for him and thought how wonderful it would be to have transport. Her tolerance of deprivation had worn thin in the months since her arrival.

To her annoyance, there was no boiled water in the refrigerator when she got home and she was dying of thirst. Would she risk some tap water with its minuscule aquatic additives? The only other fluid was a half bottle of whisky and that did not appeal. So what the hell!

Yushi wanted to talk about his girlfriend and he asked Min to teach him words of endearment and descriptions of physical attractiveness. Min felt awkward trying to think of expressions which she was not in the habit of using, so was rather relieved when the telephone man and his assistant arrived. The latter had a ladder which he propped against the tree which doubled as a telegraph pole and rolls of wire slung over his shoulder. He set to work and his superior came into the house and sat down with a sheaf of paperwork from which he read questions, some of which seemed to Min to have little relevance to the installation of the apparatus.

She apologised to Yushi who was not at all put out. ('It's OK. It's OK.') Mr Telephono asked Yushi about the burglary to his surprise and then said his brother was a policeman.

'Local people think all Japanese are rich,' he volunteered, making Yushi rush to denial.

'Not true! Not true!' he claimed almost angrily.

Min pointed out that he was a volunteer and could earn more money in Japan but this cut no ice apparently because the questions were resumed and Min felt her colour rise. There was a polite knock on the wire door and Mr Telephono called 'Come in,' without looking up from his papers. The young assistant smiled tentatively at Min and asked her permission to install the shiny black contraption which would transform her life. She wanted to hug him and tell him he was her favourite man in the world at that moment, but she simply said 'Of course - go ahead - thank you so much.'

When he had finished and the forms were filled in the young technician stood politely waiting for further instructions and Min asked him if he would like something to drink.

Mr Telephono said 'What drink?' and Min suggested tea but it wasn't welcomed so she then said 'Whisky?'

Yushi went out to the kitchen to find the glasses while Min went to the cupboard near where they were sitting to get the whisky. There was just enough but the young assistant said he would like tea if possible.

When they had toasted the new telephone Yushi asked what the number was. He wanted to write it in his notebook along with the romantic vocabulary he had already written. They had forgotten to bring the number with them and Min could hardly hide her disappointment.

'I will ring you tomorrow when I get to work.'

'I will be teaching.'

'I will come to see you after you are home in the afternoon.' After the two men had left in their nifty pickup Yushi said,

'You look exciting now.'

'I wish I did,' Min quipped. 'I think you mean excitED. She sighed.

Yushi knocked his forehead as he always did when he made a mistake which had been corrected in the past. Why was this - ing versus - ed so difficult to get across? Min wondered. There must be a way to do it but she was feeling tired and wanted to be on her own after the events of the afternoon. As soon as Yushi went she would go to bed without a meal. She was not at all hungry.

She looked at the shiny black thing on the wall. It was a miracle. How she had taken so much for granted before she had come to this place. It was like going back to an earlier time when she was very young and her parents bought their first washing machine; that was so marvellous that only her father used it for quite a while and it was wiped clean and dry after every wash. Then it was a second-hand car which took them to church on Sundays but didn't go to the beach because the sand and the salt air weren't good for the engine. Gradually these acquisitions became run-of-the-mill and the only thing left to strive and long for was a television. Min had left home by the time her parents had bought one of those. Her father did not believe in acquiring anything until you could pay for it outright and Min grew up thinking that something called Time Payment was delinquent. Lay By on the other hand, had no such moral laxity attached to it because you didn't get the goods until they were paid off.

These ruminations led to her to deciding to call her parents but then she remembered that she didn't have a number and her mother would find that frustrating. One more day wouldn't make any difference. Instead she rang Dinah who let out a yelp of excitement and asked for the number.

'Mr Telephono as you call him, wanted an excuse to come back and see you.'

'Dinah don't be devious. I'm sure it was an honest lapse of memory.'

'Yeah. I suggest you call round at the post office on your way to college.' Suddenly the thought of the detour in the morning made Min feel weak and she told Dinah that she'd be in touch the next day.

'Welcome to the twentieth century dearie. See ya.'

## Chapter 24

Polly made a cake and took it Eturasi's house when she went for her next lesson. She thought Luatasi might have returned and it would be a welcome home gift. However that was not the case but Eturasi was pleased and they shared it with a drink of homemade lemonade.

'My mom is an expert cake maker and it's only now that I'm learning to try my hand.'

Eturasi asked Polly about her family and was surprised when he heard that she was a twin among six children.

'Catholics,' she laughed. 'My mother is Spanish and my father's parents were from Ireland. What hope was there?' She laughed again and Eturasi simply gave a polite little nod. It was not a moment to discuss birth control. Instead he said,

'Let's talk about glottal stops.'

They practised 'Hawai'i' instead of 'Ha-wy-ee' and Polly told him about her idea of singing her sentences. They went on with identity and introductions, glottal-stopping with enthusiasm. Eturasi found himself charmed by Polly's unselfconscious manner and thought that Iosefa might get too distracted if he took over any teaching.

She asked if she could bring her tape recorder to the next lesson and

Eturasi agreed.

'You could copyright your lessons and give up your day job.'

All the way home, Polly practised the latest sentences miming as she went, and was ready to introduce herself to Jim.

But he wasn't there and he hadn't told her he would be late. His bike was in the porch so perhaps someone had picked him up in their car. Polly told herself that she should be prepared for changes to the routine and Jim's freedom was also hers. The success of the cake gave her the idea to try pancakes - another favourite at home - because they had at last found maple syrup in the supermarket. Their food tastes were similar with some classics from their different heritage.

Jim's father had jumped ship and worked in the steel foundries of the mid-west but he died young and Jim said he had missed the sea and his native Norway. His mother was still living in Chicago and having grown up there was content with the inland sea. Jim had trained as a teacher and had taught at a high school until the urge to travel had become irresistible. He had travelled in Europe and Scandinavia and met his relatives but had returned home mainly because he worried about his mother on her own in the big city. His only brother lived in Canada. When his mother remarried a year or two later he decided to travel again, but this time to stay in one place for at least a year and absorb some of the local colour.

He and Polly had met on their first training exercise where he was impressed by her open-mindedness. When he told her later what had attracted him she said simply that it was because she was a greenhorn. When she had made the pancakes Polly took a shower. She didn't bother to lock the door because she thought Jim would be home any minute. When she thought she heard the door opened, she called out to him but there was no answer. Perhaps he hadn't heard over the cascading water. Her ablutions finished she wrapped her lavalava around her and stepped into the corridor between the bathroom and the kitchen and called,

'Hi honey - where've you been?'

To her surprise there was no one there. Had she been "hearing things", as her mother used to say?

She woke from a pleasant doze when she clearly heard the front door being opened and knew it must be Jim but she had no idea of the time. She called in a muffled voice,

'Hi honey, I made us some pancakes - they're under a cloth on the bench.'

He went straight to the kitchen and then appeared at the bedroom door with a tea towel in his hand.

'Nice try Poll,' he said.

'What?' She jumped off the bed and rushed into the kitchen. Even the plate was gone. With her mouth open she looked at Jim speechlessly and he said,

'What's going on?' He put his arm around her and she swung away from him and told him what she had heard while she was in the shower.

'I noticed the door wasn't locked.'

Polly said it hadn't occurred to her because she had been expecting him home at any time.

'Look hun, most breakins are opportunistic and it's vital to take precautions like locking doors.' Polly frowned at what might have happened and then she snapped,

'Where were you anyway?' as if he could take some of the responsibility. He understood her reaction so he responded mildly,

'I called to see Min - I heard she had been sick. I thought you might call in there on your way home anyway so I walked for a change.'

'How come you didn't see me when I walked past her place?'

'It must have been when I went to that small shop to get her some ginger ale.'

Polly was still glowering and thinking how wrong everything had gone, when she had been so elated. Then she remembered what Jim had just said.

'Is Min sick?'

'Yeah - she's had some stomach upset. I met Dinah outside the library and she said she'd been to see her.'

Polly sat down heavily and stared in front of her. All had been sweet - and now she felt as flat as one of the pancakes which they wouldn't see again. Jim tried to cheer her up but he was secretly disturbed at the thought that Polly herself could have been hurt. The intruder must have been attracted by the whiff of warm dough and could have ventured further when he heard the shower. Jim didn't want to think about that so he suggested that they go out for a meal and put the afternoon's events behind them. It was a salutary lesson for them both.

## Chapter 25

Soon after she had spoken to Dinah on her new telephone Min had begun to feel faint and nauseous. She fell asleep fully clothed and woke up some time later with stomach cramps and a fever. She struggled out to the kitchen to boil some water and crawled back to bed in a state of panic. Being ill in an unfamiliar environment was not something she had considered so her distress was heightened. She dozed fitfully and had another weird dream which came from a totally unvisited sphere of her unconscious.

She found herself outside an old building surrounded by tall trees which created a frightening darkness so she couldn't find an entrance for shelter. A woman with long hair and wielding a broom made of grass stalks lashed together, beckoned to her from a long narrow window. She introduced herself as Candida Albicans dispenser of herbal remedies, who had been banished from her home city for preparing potions. She asked Min if she needed help because she could see that she was unhappy. She said 'I have the power'.

Min woke doubled over with pain. The vision had been so vivid that she began to speak to the woman and found herself groaning piteously. The significance of the name escaped her in her misery. She gathered her scant forces and tried to crawl to the bathroom to disgorge the contents of her stomach. Her mind was totally overwhelmed by physical impulses to the point of disorientation and she lay on the concrete floor in a state between the semi-conscious and unconscious. In a flash of lucidity she remembered the water she had drunk earlier and tried in a befuddled way to identify her illness. The word "chrystostum" went round and round in her head like a malevolent mantra each time the nausea struck. Finally she managed to find her way back to her bed where she fell asleep again.

It was still dark when she came to, feeling weak and vulnerable and she began to cry. Her head was aching so she took some sips of the boiled water feeling too weak to look for medication. She thought of the times in her childhood when she was poorly and her mother had looked after her protectively. She heard herself whine, 'Mum - oh please Mum.'

Her feverishness caused her to leave the bed and lie on the concrete floor to cool her overheated core. Sleep came and went until she began to shiver and as she climbed back on to the bed she noticed a lightening outside and a distant rooster crowing. The cramps returned followed by another painful journey to the bathroom where she stayed, feeling too weak to move. When day came, how long would it be before her absence was noticed? Would it be like last time when she failed to appear?

Muddled thoughts of dying as a result of misguided independence and memories of past events in her life when she resented interference, knitted themselves into a haze of self-pity. She could remember those times as a child when she had fantasies about dying, leaving a grieving and guilt-laden family who had never tried to understand her. Now it was different and she had no desire to cause distress by her self-inflicted isolation.

Eventually she dragged herself to the bed again and slept soundly until she heard a voice calling her name at the front door. She called back and the voice moved to outside the bedroom area where the Principal's assistant, Leone asked if she was sick.

'Yes,' she said feebly. 'I'll try and get up to open the door.'

'No. Stay there. I need to call a doctor. Do you know a doctor here?' Min replied that she didn't and Leone told her she would find one.

'I go now but someone will come today.' And Min heard her swish through the long grass like an angel of mercy. She wanted to express her relief and gratitude but she knew that Leone would never know how much her visit had meant. She had been rescued from despair and abandonment and the dark night was over.

It felt like late afternoon when another voice called from the front door so Min called back to say that she was coming. When she unlocked the door she fainted and was only dimly aware of being helped back to bed by someone speaking to her quietly and persuasively. A thermometer was thrust into her mouth and the doctor rummaged in her bag to find her stethoscope.

The familiar ministrations so unexpectedly offered made Min cry again - this time with relief - and it was a while before she could answer any questions. In the meantime the young woman sat on the bed and held her hand.

'You've taken on a tough assignment all on your own,' she said. 'Can you take a warm bath?'

When Min shook her head she handed her a wad of tissues and smiled sympathetically.

'Don't tell me you haven't got hot water.' Min sniffed a few times and blew her nose.

'To be honest I've got used to cold showers and don't miss it.' Her voice sounded nasal and disembodied.

Enquiries about the food and drink Min had consumed in the twenty-four hours before taking ill provoked a provisional diagnosis.

'Cryptospiridion - that water you drank when you got home all thirsty - is probably the culprit because you have no immunity to the creepy- crawlies coming through your tap.'

The doctor stood up and went to her car to get some sterilised water. On her way through the kitchen she found a tumbler and poured some of the water into it. She handed it to Min and said,

'Electrolytes - to replace lost minerals. I see you have a telephone. Is there anyone you can call?'

Min nodded. 'I'd only just had that telephone connected before I became ill.'

She went on to describe the rush home in the heat and how she had to deal with her student and the two telephone men all at once.

After the doctor left having instructed her to visit her surgery in a few days' time, Min lay back on the pillows, took a very long breath and gave thanks for her deliverance. She was working up the energy to call Dinah when she fell into a truly deep sleep.

## Chapter 26

It was quite late when Min woke from a restorative sleep but she wanted to talk to Dinah and tap into her practical cheer. Robert answered the phone and expressed relief that she was in the loop, as he put it. Dinah's shriek could be heard in the background and she took the handset from Robert to tell Min that she should be celebrating. Her pleasure was such that Min was reluctant to tell her that she had celebrated by getting very sick but Dinah said that she sounded subdued. Her voice dropped several tones when Min explained and she offered to come to see her there and then.

'It's so great to be able to call you Dinah old thing and the doctor was keen for me to be in touch with someone.'

'Who was the doctor?'

'God - I don't even know - but she was very understanding. She had some special water in her car and even suggested that I have a warm bath!'

'I'm coming right now to get you and Robert will run one for you.'

Min remonstrated, 'It's too late and I'm not quite up to it yet - but I wondered if you could come tomorrow. I won't make it to class but at least I can ring the college. Great friends and a telephone - what more can a girl want?'

When Dinah came the next day in her flexible lunch hour she brought two drinking coconuts and some papaya which Min craved, as she said. When she heard that Robert was keen for her to come and have that warm bath she was quite touched and decided that she'd accept the offer.

The two women chatted about their trip to the Big Island and Dinah said it was a sort of bonding experience. They laughed about those "team- building" exercises contrived by employers to cement bonds among their workers.

'The great thing that happened was the unplanned stranding and how we all dealt with it.'

'With none of that nasty trans-Tasman rivalry either,' Min looked coy.

'It's interesting to note the difference between Aussies and Kiwis which I hadn't thought about before I came here. Perhaps you and Robert are not typical but you strike me as more serious than us Aussies - but then Lucky is pretty serious - except for his name.'

Min was tempted to explain to Dinah how it had come about but instead she said simply,

'A lucky man from a lucky country. I can't help wondering if both terms are ironic.'

Dinah speculated on his background and told Min that Melburnians were quite different from Queenslanders on the whole.

'It's not till we're up against you kiwis that we truly stick together.'

She said that she and Robert thought that Min and Lucky might make a go of it and Min blushed. She didn't know what to say.

'You're both what I'd call pointy heads and I feel that I have to measure up when I'm around you. Perhaps it's all that cold weather - you're curled up with a book while I'm out in the sun plucking all that low- hanging fruit!' Dinah brayed at the thought which had just occurred to her.

'So what are your plans post-Arcadia?'

Dinah shrugged. 'I don't look that far ahead. I keep telling Robert to just enjoy the present because he's inclined to want to plan ahead. Anyway what are yours?'

'I'll see out my contract and by then I might have changed so much that

I won't know where I belong.'

'Y'know - I sometimes long for a wander in one of those overstocked shopping malls full of people idly picking up gadgets and clothes and putting them down in a sort of trance. I know that's pathetic.'

'Ditto - I'm also nostalgic for a rousing concert with a full orchestra and my walkman is a poor substitute for the atmosphere of the live thing - not that I'm a regular concert-goer - and the funny thing is it's the discordant sawing and tooting before the conductor appears which sticks in my mind.'

Dinah mimed stroking a violin as she stood up. 'Must away to my pressing duties. I'll call after work to take you chez nous for that bath and a bite to eat. What do you feel like?'

Min said she still craved fruit and some nice cold water.

'Boiled with no ice ma'am as you wish.'

Just as Dinah was leaving, the small truck from the post office drew up outside and through the louvres they saw 'Mr Telephono' on his own, getting out. Dinah rolled her eyes as they heard the knock and she went to answer the door. She introduced herself and explained why she was there.

'I've brought the new number for the telephone,' he said.

'Would you like to come in?'

'I'm sorry to hear of the sickness - no, you can pass on the number on this paper.'

Dinah thanked Mr Telephono warmly and said how good it was that Min could call her friends.

The gentleman smiled and turned with a wave of his hand. As he climbed into the cab of the truck he called,

'I hope she is better soon.'

Dinah read out the number to Min and wondered what would have happened if she had not been there.

'Nothing,' said Min firmly. 'You are far too suspicious. If I lose my faith in people I'll be a prisoner of my own nature.'

'You're probably right, but a certain amount of awareness is essential to survival - especially on your own. Anyway get your toilet things and I'll be back in a couple of hours to whisk you away.'

Min pondered on Dinah's attitude but came to the conclusion that she would have to deal with people according to her own instincts and to tell the truth, she was sorry not to have seen Mr Telephono to thank him. She would call and see him in the next week or so.

## Chapter 27

Lucky had had some frustrating times in the past few weeks with the hospital generator and in particular the effect its intermittence had on the sterilisation process. Naturally that affected the number of operations being performed but he thanked the cosmic forces that the doctors and patients were stoical and accepting of such shortcomings.

Fortunately the technician who had flown in to do the repairs, had been able to cobble together a temporary solution until he could get necessary replacements. Lucky thought how much more pressure he would have been under as an administrator back home and he hoped that he could take a leaf out of the local staff's book. Of course, their Job-like patience arose from a tradition of being poor relations when it came to technology. The hospital was the medical centre for everything from red eye to kidney failure. Private doctors served the better-off locals and the expatriate community. When Lucky had first seen the hospital from the outside he had been impressed, but the inside was a different matter. There were machines for procedures such as ECGs and Xrays and when they broke down they often stayed idle for weeks until an expert and spare parts were available. That was his role - to see that machines were well maintained and kept ticking over. When he had first arrived he was dismayed to see relatively sophisticated machines from an uncoordinated group of donor nations lying idle for lack of technicians. The medical staff was made up of overseas doctors and overseas-trained local ones who had returned home with a sense of dedication to their country. There was a dearth of technical support because, Lucky suspected that was not an area which the locals sought as a profession. Electronic expertise was a cinderella in the medical sphere, he had come to realise.

Along with the afore-mentioned tolerance he required the wisdom of Solomon, the foresight of an oracle and the negotiating skills of a diplomat. In this lay his personal salvation he felt sure. His mind was fully occupied to the point where his anxiety about what was happening back home took a back seat. He knew that any day he might have to fly to Australia however, but this possibility was becoming less and less real in his daily duties.

He was reading a lot too now that distractions were fewer and he had plunged into the concerns of an English community in the early nineteenth century. He was struck by the kinship between that world and this small Pacific nation. Change, like an invading army was massing in the wings and a way of life centuries old, was already hearing the beat of drums. When Lucky thought about such things he hoped that society would be strong enough to accept change gradually and not be seduced by the blandishments of multi-nationals whose only deity was the dollar. Their outriders in the form of Coco Cola had appeared a long time ago but a strong visionary leadership able to sustain social coherence, while welcoming genuine benefits on offer, was the way of salvation. Evangelical Christianity portrayed in George Eliot's novel Adam Bede, had culminated in these islands in the establishment of that particular brand of Christianity, thanks to the proselytising zeal of the London Missionary Society. The teachings of the missionaries were successfully blended into the chiefly structure so that a twin authority was formed and made physically manifest in the huge churches towering over every village throughout the country. Lucky was not hopeful that religion itself would form a bulwark against materialistic excess but rather hope lay in the integrity of the culture with a very long tradition.

His forbears had left the known world of Britain and Ireland in the mid- nineteenth century when the industrial revolution and famine had changed the fabric of those societies. Dislocation, desperation - in many cases an intrepid drive for betterment - propelled cohorts of men, women and children to travel to the unknown and it was only now that he was meditating on these facts. He felt like a member of a new breed but one old enough to venture forth in its turn, to connect with what was in its recent origins, a stone-age society.

Such ruminations were interrupted by a soft knock on the screen door and he hauled himself off the bed to answer it. A thin leathery man was standing there with a green woven kit at his feet.

'Hello - talofa,' said Lucky blearily.

'Talofa lava.'

Two missing teeth and a damaged eye immediately aroused Lucky's sympathy disposing him to whatever business was on offer. The man bent down and pulled some carved objects from the kit. He held up for inspection an outrigger canoe with white markings on the hull, a small carved turtle with a removable shell, and two wooden masks minimally worked and charming. Lucky took one of the masks gently as if he were handling Sèvres china and he stroked the smooth tropical hardwood. He felt a quasi-religious impulse which astonished him and almost sacrilegiously, he asked the price. The old man said simply,

'Books.'

'Did you make these?' asked Lucky realising that his question had not been understood.

'Only samples.'

The very naivety of sending such an unprepossessing salesman on a marketing mission somehow charmed Lucky further and he was prepared to pay anything. The gaunt fellow took a dog-eared notebook out of a pouch slung over his shoulder and showed him a page where someone had written a pricelist and a required 10% deposit. He wrote his name and the address of the hospital in a space underneath and he went inside to get the money.

When he had paid the man he shook his hand and said 'Very beautiful', hoping it was understood. In reply to his question 'When?' the gap- toothed traveller just grinned, picked up his kit and walked off.

'Perhaps that's what you call casting your bread upon the water,' Lucky said to himself as he went inside to get ready for his afternoon shift at the hospital.

## Chapter 28

One of the first people that Min notified of her telephone number was Yushi. A couple of hours later she heard the familiar put-put stop outside the house and he came in with a big grin on his face. Min didn't want to tell him of her illness in case he fled in fear of infection which she knew she no longer had; nor did she want to dampen his enthusiasm for whatever was making him so happy.

'What's the good news then?'

'I getting married to my girlfriend.'

'But that's wonderful news - when?'

'Soon'.

Min had the idea that she must keep her spatial distance but she would normally have responded with a hug to such an announcement. She wrung her hands in a futile little gesture instead and waited for Yushi to say more. He stood grinning expectantly so she said,

'Have you told your parents?'

'No of course not. They in Japan.'

It was clear that the details of the plan had to be prised out of him and she wondered if any big decisions had been made or if the news was hot off the press.

'When did you propose?' She had to explain the technical term.

'Yesterday.'

'It's very exciting. Is your girlfriend excited?' Yushi sighed over this stumbling block.

'Yes, she is...'

Min finished the sentence - 'very excited.' Would you like an English class now?'

Yushi nodded. 'I need more English words to tell my my girlfriend that she is good person.'

Then Min remembered that they had been on the verge of exploring the vocabulary of romantic love when Mr Telephono had interrupted them. Min asked what sorts of expressions he wanted and Yushi asked her what she would say to her lover. Min was disconcerted by his directness and said,

'It's not quite the same.'

'What does your lover say to you?'

As with the dancing episode she decided to ham this up so she began to fling her arms around and utter extravagant endearments like 'I love you more than there are stars in the sky and sand on the seashore!'

Yushi was rummaging in his satchel for his notebook and pen as she improvised wildly in her embarrassment. When he started to write things down, saying slowly 'I - love - you - and what after that?' Min backtracked and said she was being silly.

'If I want to say she is beautiful, what do I say?'

'That's a good start. Say "You are very beautiful and I love you with all my heart".'

Yushi wrote diligently and smiled to himself. When he had finished he asked for words for anatomy and pointed to the bits he wanted. When he pointed to his chest, Min couldn't decide whether to say "breast" or "bosom". She giggled inwardly when Yushi indicated that his girlfriend was bigger in that area than Japanese women. In the end Min offered a cover-all compliment "You have a lovely body, my darling", and told Yushi that that was enough for the moment.

He invited Min to join him and his girlfriend (Min decided she'd leave "fiancée" for a later date when it looked as if this was more than a flash in the pan), at the Tin Pot cafe for a meal. The rest of the lesson was spent practising the expressions for ordering food and booking a table. Min had decided that she would not be a killjoy and bring up the business of sentences without verbs but would make a note to pursue such humdrum necessities when the euphoria had died down.

Just as Yushi was leaving Lucky/Michael arrived. Min addressed him by his new name and Yushi had no reaction but he was grinning as he shot off on his bike and Min explained the probable reason.

'I hear you've been sick.'

'Yes - I didn't tell Yushi. I'm much better but I was very worried in the middle of the night.'

'Now I see you've got the phone on, you can always ring me - and I

mean it.'

'Thanks doctor.' Michael winced as if Min didn't think he meant it. She regaled him with the whole chain of events and he said simply,

'Cryptospiridium.'

'Well spotted - you'll appreciate this – every time I threw up, I kept saying the word "chrystostum" and later I was trying to remember what it meant.' Michael laughed.

'If my store of useless religious information serves me, that's some saint or other - perhaps he's the patron saint of gut ache!'

'That would put him quite low down in the pecking order.'

'I s'pose it's possible to go lower - but saints are not my specialty.'

Min wanted to ask him what his specialty was but instead she offered him some coffee. He turned down the offer and stood up to go.

'I'm glad you have recovered and I was going to suggest that we try that new coffee shop which is run by a French couple from New Caledonia. They probably import the stuff.'

Min said she was very interested in the idea and she gave Michael her phone number.

'You know - I hate it when people tell me to take care but I think this is one of those times when the expression fits.'

'Don't worry - I've learned my lesson but I'll remember not to advise you to be prudent. It amounts to the same thing, come to think of it.'

She sat down at her worktable as soon as Michael had gone but she stared out of the window thinking about him and her feelings towards him. She liked him a lot and they spoke the same language which was always a comfortable situation. There was however, something guarded about the man and she had a strong intuition that he was a doctor, from his reaction to her flippant remark. After a while she got up because she would not be able to concentrate fruitfully and she dialled her parents' number.

## Chapter 29

The Tin Pot café was tucked into a tiny room in a side street a few hundred metres from the beachfront. Tourists were hardly ever seen there and it wasn't mentioned in the few guidebooks for the area. The Chinese family who ran it relied on the expatriates with disposable income to maintain a clientèle. They served the generic fare considered to suit the western palate along with the inevitable incidence of pineapple.

Min arrived first and sat under the ceiling fan to cool down. She was offered a glass of water but she chose 7-Up from the fridge. The motorbike announced itself and she saw Yushi and pillion rider swing around to park by the door. To Min's surprise, Fanua was carrying a bottle of wine wrapped in newspaper which she handed to Yushi at the door. He was smiling broadly as they approached the table and Min thought as she looked at the young woman, that he had very good reason to feel pleased with himself. She was dressed in a plain navy cotton dress with a dropped waist and big pockets edged with white. Min felt dowdy in one of the few outfits which she relied on to keep her cool and she wondered where Fanua did her shopping. As he put the wine on the table Yushi said,

'From Bond Store. Advice from boss.'

'New Zealand chardonnay - that's nice - thank you.' It hadn't occurred to Min to buy wine because she was getting used to going without it. She would offer to pay for the meal.

A young woman in thongs, glided over to their table with menus and the words "le rhythme du pays" popped into Min's head. It seemed to describe the demeanour of the locals perfectly. She waited while they studied the dishes and Min asked if she could have her meal without pineapple as it seemed to figure so much. A jerk of the woman's eyebrows acknowledged the request and she took a pencil from behind her ear and poised it above her pad. When they had ordered, Yushi held up the bottle and looked at Min for the formula. 'Would you mind,' she said, and he turned to the waitress and said,

'Would you mind open the wine?' He looked at Fanua who smiled sweetly and Min made a mental note.

The meal came within a few minutes and they all picked up the chopsticks instead of the available china spoons. Min always grappled with those unfamiliar tools out of a sense of ethnocentricity-avoidance but she noticed that the true believers lifted the bowl nearer its target - a habit she couldn't quite bring herself to copy. As she was taking her first delicate mouthful she was alerted to a disturbance in the artistic display of fruit and vegetables on the floor facing her. She froze and Fanua looked around to the focal point of Min's stare. She saw a mouse sidling around among the foliage. Min's phobia penetrated her veneer of manners and her distressed 'Oh no!' made Yushi stop and look around too.

His face was twisted with concern and Min felt ashamed and gauche. Surely she could master her feelings and let a little rodent go on its way. There was clearly much of interest to detain it where it was. Fanua said,

'Are you afraid?'

Somehow Min mastered her discomfort and took her eyes off the floor display and said,

'I'm fine. I just got a little shock that's all.'

They resumed eating silently but Min looked furtively from time to time at the now discredited artistry.

In what struck her as a non sequitur, Yushi observed,

'You are lonely person,' and waited for her response. Were "lonely" and "alone" synonymous in Japanese, and was this just a kindly reminder that she lived alone?

Fanua looked uncomfortable but Yushi pressed on.

'You look sad sometimes I think.' Min knew she had a habit of frowning when she was unsure but Yushi wasn't usually around at such times. Did this have anything to do with Michael's visit? His language did not give him much scope for nuance or tact so she took the remark as kindly meant and said jokingly,

'It can be your job to cheer me up. And I am really happy to see you and Fanua together. Let's drink to the future.'

She changed the subject by enquiring about Fanua's family and heard that she boarded with her aunt who lived in town, because her village was further away. Both Min and Yushi were surprised to hear that she had five brothers and four sisters and Min decided that family introductions had been sketchy until it appeared that several siblings were in New Zealand and one was in Los Angeles. Min asked how her parents felt about her marrying someone from Japan and Fanua said that it was OK, but they hoped she would not go there to live. Yushi smiled at this and said that they too might go to New Zealand - or Los Angeles.

When they got up to leave, he offered Min a pillion ride on his bike because it was not good to walk home in the dark. Min appreciated the offer and she gave Fanua a hug when she said she would wait in the café until he came back. The swift ride home reminded Min that she had dropped off the mobility ladder and she would really like to be "motorised" again, now that she had a telephone. She had had enough of deprivation.

The night was dense with blackness beyond the headlight's beam which picked out the occasional solitary walker, unencumbered and slow. For a moment Min felt the thrill of timelessness which was represented by the ambling walker, and she witnessed a vision of the world as it had been for centuries in this place. She felt a pang of guilt for their piercing the still silence and thus shattering the natural order of things, but at the same time she was glad not to share the moonless darkness on foot.

She thanked Yushi and shook his hand and went inside to resume her romantic musings in the silence he left behind. This place was inducing stirrings which were new to her.

## Chapter 30

When she rang her parents, Min was surprised to hear her father's voice. It was usually her mother's prerogative to answer phone calls on the "it'll be for you" presumption.

'This is a surprise,' she said. 'How are you?'

'Not as young as I used to be. Your mother's out tonight at a film with old Peg. She's been asking her for ages. She'll be terribly sorry to have missed you - look - can you ring back a bit later? I can't imagine those two going out on the town.'

'I can - but right now I'm talking to you.'

Her father was not a natural on the phone. He was no chatterbox at any time but he seemed to be put off by the absence of a face. Her mother on the other hand, used the telephone like the modern equivalent of the parish pump. She could spend hours "nattering" (as her father called it) and he and Min often used to sit listening to her rejoinders trying to guess who was on the line and what they were telling her.

'I have a phone at last, so I've rung to give you the number in case you need it.' Her father said they wouldn't wait till they needed it.

'Anyway, how's it going up there in the islands?'

Min was half cross and half amused by the collectivisation of the diverse and scattered countries which were mostly unknown to his compatriots, unless they had fought in the Pacific during the Second World War. Her discovery of the Pacific neighbourhood made her impatient with the ignorance which she had so recently shared.

'I'm busy, needless to say.'

'Met any nice people?'

'Some.'

Her mother would not be so direct but nevertheless would want the same information which Min was always unwilling to share with her parents. She was prepared to talk about the simple facts but felt an emotional block when asked to elaborate. Her secretiveness made her feel guilty because she had not found sufficient justification for it in her own mind.

'Will you be taking holidays at Christmas?'

'Probably.'

'Would you be coming this way, by any chance?'

'No idea at this stage. Have you any plans to go away?'

'Not as far as I know. Unless it's in a wooden overcoat.' The slight cackle had an embarrassed edge to it.

'Da-a-d!'

'Well - you know - gotta be prepared.'

If her mother had said this, it might have been emotional blackmail but her father was too guileless for that. Or was he? Min suddenly wondered if she understood her parents at all. She was hard on her mother she knew, but it was because she went on more about religion and its straitjacket taboos. Her parents' relationship was a mystery because they were not demonstrative and their communication was limited to exchanges about daily chores and what they would eat at the next meal. Her mother was particularly exercised by this question and although Min knew that there was a sound practical reason for this, it still annoyed her.

'I am such a shit,' she repeatedly told herself but with hardly any conviction. It was time for her to get to the bottom of her emotional hang-ups and perhaps to forgive herself. The events of the last few years had put that process on hold.

'How's the garden?'

'A bit water-logged - it's pretty cold and wet here. I expect it's nice and tropical up there in those islands.'

'It's still the dry season - there are two basic seasons - wet and dry. I haven't been here for the really wet yet, but I'm told it's steamy and uncomfortable. God help me.'

'It's good to hear that you're still on speaking terms with God.' Another cackle.

'He's very popular in his place, you'll be pleased to know.'

After he'd copied down the number and said they'd ring Min soon, her father hung up with his usual 'Ta Ta.'

She forced herself to look over her course plan which was due to be handed in but her father's voice echoed in her head. If only she could return to the comfortable pieties of her childhood when Christmas and birthdays were the highlights which lit up the landscape for weeks before and after and the stars were simply twinkling additions to the night. She had loved Jesus in all his guises - as bleeding victim, chubby infant and kind shepherd. His sufferings had been intimately connected to her childish peccadilloes but she was never able to get a final resolution of the problem. Even if she thought she had been quite good in going without things in Lent and offering up going to the dentist for the Holy Souls, she could never quite settle the account. Someone was always telling you how sinful you were. The priests and nuns seemed to have a vested interest in something called Original Sin and when Min finally gave herself absolution from this antenatal crime, she had started to have a bit of fun. Something told her she still had a long way to go.

## Chapter 31

Polly was enjoying her weekly classes with Eturasi and she began to understand parts of the conversations around her in the office. Her workmates were very encouraging. They even invited her to their villages but so far she had not taken up the invitation. She wasn't quite ready. One evening Jim announced that he was thinking of getting a tattoo and Polly wondered if it was his way of matching her involvement in the culture. Her reaction surprised him.

'That is totally out of order in my mind - sorry!' Jim wanted to know why.

'Well - I must say that I haven't thought about it in any depth - it's just a gut reaction.'

Jim was obviously disappointed. He hadn't thought about it in any depth either, except he knew it was an ordeal and full of symbolism. Perhaps Polly was right but he would like to hear her more cogent reasons.

Before the matter was raised again, he received a letter from his mother telling him that she was "having tests". The expression had a sinister ring so he decided to call her to find out more specific information. Before he did so he asked Polly if she would be able to take some time off and fly to the United States, but she did not want to interrupt her life at that point she said. However she thought he should offer to go if his mother seemed to need him.

He and his mother had had a fraught relationship when he was an adolescent. She had been brought up in a very strict religious family and was conservative and unhappy. When he and his brother were very young she tried to protect them from all sorts of perceived threats. A serious divergence in values had led to some explosive times, particularly between her and his brother who was five years older. It was during the Vietnam War that differences came to a head and his brother went to Canada where he had remained ever since. Jim visited him there and they had got on well but he harboured a residual resentment for being left with the responsibility to be the dutiful son.

His mother's remarriage had relieved Jim of some of his worries about her, and although his brief acquaintance with his step-father had not convinced Jim that it was a great love match, he presumed that her everyday needs would be met. Thus he could wear the mantle of loving son.

Before he made the phone call Jim enquired about flights and prices. He made a tentative booking and called his mother with the news. There was silence on the other end of the line.

'Is it not a good time Ma?' He thought he heard her sob and then she became quite voluble and said it was the best news she had ever had. She wanted to pay his fare.

'Don't worry about that, but what has the specialist told you?'

'I have to have my lymph nodes removed before I start treatment.' Then she cried in earnest and apologised for upsetting him. She said that she had been brave up to that moment.

When Jim told Polly about his arrangements she announced that she had been invited to spend a weekend in Eturasi's village. His young brother Jupeli, would be her mentor. Jim who at another time might have been put out, instead was happy that Polly would be looked after for one weekend at least. Polly said she was pleased that he would be able to be with his mother at a critical time. The notion of the tattoo was on hold in the meantime.

Jim wanted to invite Lucky for a meal because as he said, he worked at the hospital and might be able to tell Jim what was involved in his mother's treatment. Polly was quite enthusiastic but she said that it was a rather tenuous reason for their extending hospitality.

The first thing Lucky told them was that Min had found out his original name and was steadfastly calling him Michael so he was going to let his friends know. He was glad that they didn't want to know the source of his nickname but they simply said that it might be a while before they got used to calling him Michael. He was very interested in Polly's progress in the language and said that he had thought of giving it a go but he was not particularly good at French at school.

'It's totally different,' said Polly, 'but jolly difficult because of the disproportionate number of vowels. I'm not learning any grammar because Eturasi is a native speaker and doesn't really have a grammar base. He's a fund of knowledge of English grammar though and puts me to shame.'

Jim waited till the meal was over to broach the subject of his mother's cancer and he asked "Michael" directly if he had any idea of the treatment protocol.

'Jim thinks that if you work in a hospital, you pick up such knowledge by osmosis.'

Michael was interested in Jim's family background and it was noticeable that he avoided the question; as Polly said afterwards, it was not a cheerful topic for a dinner conversation.

Michael asked them if they'd tried the new French café and when they said they knew nothing about it he suggested they go there for after dinner coffee. He'd already been there and really enjoyed it. It made a change from the often dire offerings near the beachfront.

Just as they got there the proprietor was closing but he recognised

Michael.

'Halloo Michel,' he intoned. 'Take a seat and I make you some of my very special brew.'

Polly and Jim were enchanted by the authentic French atmosphere and when the proprietor came with their coffee, Michael introduced him. Gerard bowed and asked them where they were from.

'You speak French, peut-être?'

When they said they didn't unfortunately, he looked at Michael who quickly mentioned Polly's Spanish origin. He had sensed that Gerard was about to mention Min from earlier in the week and for some reason, he didn't want that. Why - he was not sure. Min had conversed briefly in French and Gerard had been delighted.

When Michael drove them home Jim said he'd be away for a while so would he keep an eye on Polly.

'It would be a privilege,' was the cheery reply. 'I hope things go well for you and your mother.'

Jim lay in bed with one hand under his head while Polly brushed her hair in front of a small mirror.

'Our Australian friend's a bit of a dark horse, wouldn't you say?'

'No - not specially. He always strikes me as very intelligent without being arrogant. I like his scholarly look.' She came over and climbed under the sheet and lay on her side facing Jim. He turned to face her and she stroked his eyebrows which she particularly liked.

'I'll miss you my darling so come back soon,' she murmured.

## Chapter 32

The gentle trade winds made life pleasant and, remembering that New Zealand was in the throes of winter, Min got the idea to issue holiday invitations to friends. She suddenly realised that she had become quite acclimatised as well as accustomed to cold showers and wondered which of her friends would respond to the minimal comforts and unvaried diet, in exchange for the leisurely pace of things. Her first thought was of her friend Peter, whom she had known since university days and who was geopolitically curious. He would also entertain her with his take on life at home.

Her letter met with a rapid response on the telephone and he was keen to arrange a date more or less immediately. Min told him to bring some sheets and perhaps some whisky from the duty free shop along with reading material.

'Be prepared for a crash course in simple living.'

When she told Michael/Lucky about the visit he commented that visitors arrived with the inevitable tourist's-eye view of white sandy beaches, soughing coconut palms and cocktails proffered by smiling locals.

'I could get you a health department brochure with information about hookworm, red eye and choicest of all - elephantiasis. Then of course there are the common things like dengue fever and typhoid.' Min laughed but thought to herself that Michael's reaction was a bit out of left field.

However when the time came he offered to take her to the airport to meet her friend and she forgot his jeremiads. He was very quiet at first on the way back from the airport while Peter was a mine of hometown gossip. Min managed to steer the conversation to local topics which Michael dealt with more succinctly than she would have. She admitted that she had not acquired much knowledge in that area. Peter wanted to know why she didn't own a car and how did she manage without one. (He would very much like to be able to get around while she was teaching.)

'Volunteers unlike ordinary modern mortals, are supposed to eschew the trappings of status and live like anchorites,' Min told Peter with tongue in cheek, to which he said explosively,

'Bollocks! Since when was a car any sort of trapping - except perhaps in Outer Mongolia. Anyway, what's to stop you buying some old bomb. Whose rule is this?'

Michael said that each country made its own rules and Australian volunteers - of which he was one \- were certainly allowed to buy cars, while the Americans had to use pushbikes and the Japanese had motorbikes.

'So kiwis have to trundle around like missionaries in sackcloth and ashes,' Peter muttered. He would have to hold his opinions in check in the meantime, he thought to himself. He looked out of the car window at the brilliant gardens and big churches alongside the road from the airport and was impressed by the orderliness of the villages which did not exude an air of third-world poverty. The local children were coming out of school and he noticed how neat and tidy they looked in their lolly- coloured uniforms. He asked Min about the discipline in the junior high school and whether the tidiness reflected the general order. She said it did, but she had no experience of the two senior schools on the island.

'You must tell Peter about your solo dance effort in front the school assembly,' laughed Michael.

'Sounds unlike our Min.'

'There'll be time for that in due course. I'll need something to loosen my tongue first.'

Peter said he'd brought the whisky and some wine for their delectation and Min invited Michael to stop and have a drink and some of the tuna salad which she had prepared, but he said he would accept the offer some other time. He seemed to Min to be preoccupied, in contrast with his earlier relaxed bonhomie when they had met at the new café.

One of the first questions Peter asked after they had sat down to the meal was about her friendship with Michael who, he noted, was the strong silent type. Min said that was not the case but he did seem to have something on his mind.

'Is he homophobic?'

Min was about to expostulate in the negative when she realised that she had no idea.

'We've never discussed the subject but he's a liberal humanist I'd say. Too nice a bloke to be prejudiced.'

Peter cut in. 'You'd be surprised.'

'Yes - I would actually.' She changed the subject and asked Peter more about the nuclear protests which were heating up in New Zealand.

'As I said, the French, bless their chic little socks, are behaving like overlords in the region with their nuclear testing and they're getting up "les nez" of local politicians. The Prime Minister is talking about sailing a frigate into the testing area around Mururoa, but he's a lone voice because there's no support from Australia or Britain - the Aussies want to sell uranium and the Brits are cosying up to Europe.'

'You don't hear much from the locals about the treatment given to their Tahitian neighbours I must say, but no doubt there are issues of aid involved and there are a few projects sponsored by the EU here. Tell you what - I'm becoming rather suspicious of motives,' added Min pinging her wineglass.

'Idealism isn't a tenable position old thing. Pragmatism is much more grown up.'

Min stood up to clear away the dishes but first she pulled one of Peter's ears and told him not to shatter all her ideals. Enlightenment was one thing but cynicism was something undesirable.

'Ouch. Why choose between two extremes? Just get real - but don't lose all your faith in human nature.'

The subject of a car was broached again and Peter convinced Min that it would be good if she looked for one while he was there to help. In the meantime he would look at renting one and the first thing he wanted to do was to visit her favourite spot on the island. Min remembered her day with Dinah and Robert when she had visited Paradise before the Fall, and she told Peter that she knew exactly where they would go.

## Chapter 33

When Polly told Eturasi that Jim was leaving for the United States he suggested that he go ahead with arrangements for her to spend a weekend in his village. Jim was concerned about leaving Polly on her own in case he was away longer than he planned. His employer was relaxed about his absence so that was no problem but he wanted Polly to arrange back-up accommodation just in case. She said it was her chance to prove herself and if Min could do it, so could she.

Eturasi had to fly to a funeral of a relative in New Zealand so it meant that his brother Jupeli, would take charge of Polly's welfare. When she heard this, she changed her mind and wanted to go with Jim after all. She was torn between leaving her comfort zone again and admitting to her fears by going home. She agonised for a day or so without mentioning her doubts to Jim and in the meantime Jupeli called to see her with the plans for the famous weekend. Somehow, the die was cast and she felt swept along by the inevitable. Some would call it fate, she told herself.

Her workmates were very enthusiastic about the village visit and they had lots of tips about observances which she was not sure were serious. For example, she was told to stay awake all night in case a night creeper was on the prowl and she needed to borrow a full-length dress so she would fit in. One was even offered to her and they insisted that she try it on. She had to tie her hair back or wear two pigtails and they had a rehearsal in the office which caused loud mirth.

The Friday after Jim left Polly went home from work to shave her legs. She wasn't sure why she did this, because part of her adjustment to her new life had been to let her body hair grow. Jim had let his beard grow on the same principle of letting nature take its course but he had shaved it off before he left for America. She was amused as she dug out lotions that she hadn't used for months and told herself that she was behaving more like a bride before her nuptials.

Jupeli called to fetch her after his market delivery and she sat in the front of the two cabins while there was a small cargo of village children in the back. She called to them in their language and they rolled about with laughter and she asked Jupeli in English if she had made a mistake.

'No - they are surprised probably and are very excited about coming to town.'

As they passed the beach where Polly had met the freak wave, Jupeli turned to her with a barely perceptible flick of his eyebrows. She felt embarrassed and bit her bottom lip. Nothing was said.

The village was just a short way further on and they were greeted by garlands of colourful flowers and foliage. This was the work of the women and the young people who could not attend school where fees were necessary. Stones painted white lined the pathways and across the road the sea was still and blue. In the middle of a grassy patch were two graves ornamented with large shells and a cross. When the pickup drew up to the door of an airy two-storeyed house, Polly realised that Jupeli's father must be the pastor of the village.

She was shown to a small bedroom where the two inside walls were almost covered by two huge tapa cloths made from the beaten mulberry bark and decorated in a variety of geometric patterns. The bed was a small low affair covered with a bright strip of cotton material. The louvred windows were all open and looked over the back garden dotted with half-grown papaya trees. On one side were some banana palms laden with green fruit and Polly noticed an old plastic seat beside a contraption used for grating the coconut flesh into cream. Jupeli had called to his mother who was outside and she stood in the bedroom welcoming Polly in slow speech telling her she hoped she would be comfortable. Polly felt helplessly mute and nodded her head saying

'Talofa lava' several times in default of anything more specific.

She was escorted down to the large dining room where drinking coconuts and their straws were placed on the table and Jupeli and his father were sitting in the solid wooden chairs so characteristic of domestic furniture. A fan was whirring lazily in the middle of the ceiling. Mr Kolose stood up and shook Polly's hand and Jupeli went to the table to distribute the coconuts. Polly felt numb with shyness and wished with all her soul that Jim was with her. For a brief flash she pictured him in O'Hare airport among his own people and in control.

'Where in the United States is your home?' asked Mr Kolose in English, noticing her discomfort.

'San Francisco,' she said, sitting forward attentively as if she was slightly deaf.

It turned out that Mrs Kolose had a sister in San Francisco and the ice (an alien metaphor in the context) was broken somewhat when Polly found out that she lived in the district where she had gone to high school. After a while some of those early lessons started coming back to her and she described her family according to Eturasi's formula. Mrs Kolose was very encouraging and it was only later that Polly found out that she was a primary school teacher. After a while Polly excused herself to go to the bedroom to collect the gifts she had brought - some tinned meat and scented soap - and they were unwrapped very carefully so the floral paper could be folded neatly for future use. (Polly was reminded of her grandmother doing the same thing at Christmas time when they all thought she was being stingy.)

Mr Kolose was curious to know why she had wanted to learn the local language when English was all she needed in the town area so she tried to explain how she wanted to know more about the culture. As she said it, she thought she sounded pious but it was the answer Eturasi had taught her. (He had added that a second language did wonders for one's mother tongue.)

'Unfortunately many of our people aspire to live overseas and English is their passport. Our family is no exception but we're glad that Eturasi has decided to stay in this country. He is passionate about the future of our small nation and we need plenty more like him.'

Polly said they had had many interesting conversations which had made her more aware of the issues around so-called development and cultural integrity. She was beginning to feel more comfortable especially now that she knew she could speak English occasionally without letting the side down.

## Chapter 34

The evening meal was a simple one of taro and fish cooked in coconut cream, which was a relief for Polly who had dreaded having to eat the prevalent tinned fish. It reminded her of the food they gave Mr Mouse the family cat, back home. Before eating, a long grace was recited with bowed heads and hands joined in prayer. It was an age since Polly had said grace before meals and she remembered how in her budding adolescence, she thought it was more fitting to thank her hard-working mother than a putative deity. She had even gone so far as to devise an alternative formula to recognise her mother's effort but it was dropped into the abyss of minor rebellion.

Luisa, the only daughter of the family had arrived home shortly before the meal and Polly recognised her from the bank where she was a teller. She was strikingly beautiful with thick glossy hair contained in two plaits which reached to her waist. Surrounded by the strong dark looks of the family, Polly felt insipid and conscious of her freckles and pale green eyes. In her the Irish genes were dominant while some of her siblings were hispanic in appearance and would not have looked out of place in this household.

Luisa invited her to go with her the next day to her aunt's house where they were preparing a series of short plays for White Sunday when the children of the church performed and were the centre of attention. Polly accepted enthusiastically saying that listening to the children's language would be good experience.

As they walked to the aunt's house in the morning Polly looked longingly at the irresistible lagoon where one lone person stood fully clothed, waist deep in the water. In this subsistence economy, the sea was just another source of food and not also the pleasure locus she was used to. She asked Luisa about her life in the village, hoping to get an understanding of whether she longed to have other experiences beyond its confines. Like Eturasi, she had spent time overseas and had come back to what she considered her ancestral land.

'In overseas countries, we have to work at the bottom of the ladder and send the money home. The climate is much colder and we have to spend more money on clothes so I would rather stay here. Perhaps I am lucky because my father is a pastor and we have plenty of money. It might be different if we were very poor.'

'Do you want to get married?'

'That is a problem and I might have to leave for a while to find a husband.' She laughed a high-pitched laugh.

She was curious to know why Polly had come to the country when she lived in the richest country in the world, so Polly had to revert to English to explain that her country's very self-sufficiency had made her curious about the rest of the world.

'My mother came from Mexico so at least we knew something about a place outside of the United States.'

When they arrived among the children Polly found herself chatting to them in their language and once again, some of them giggled while she noticed one or two serious little faces staring at her. (Those freckles again!) The first little drama they were preparing was the story of the Prodigal Son which Polly thought rather fitted the local scene. The little boy who returned to a riotous welcome home strutted around like a small celebrity, while a group of supporters looked genuinely outraged at the treatment meted out to the stay-at-home.

She told Luisa that she wanted to find a shop to buy some lolly water for the children and she was directed to a tiny shed just around the bend in the road. One of the older boys who went with her to help her carry the load was shy and silent until they returned and Polly asked him to distribute the booty. Transformed by absolute authority he was a study in crowd control. After that, the children gathered around Polly and all talked at once and corrected her mistakes with disarming honesty. She was asked where her children were and looked sorry to hear that she did not have any.

They returned to the pastor's house for the evening prayer when Polly had her first feeling of estrangement and realised how far she had travelled from her childhood beliefs. She tried to look devout out of respect for her hosts. Jupeli and his parents had been busy preparing the church in the afternoon and Luisa showed Polly the wonderful flowers which her mother had spread around the altar area. The church was an imposing white concrete elevation which towered over the rest of the village with its curving double balustrade and pilasters painted powder blue. In front of the building was a stretch of mown grass where a volley ball net was ready to provide sport on the Sabbath for the youth of the village.

Early in the morning Polly woke to a familiar sound and she presumed it was Jupeli outside sitting on the plastic chair rhythmically scraping a coconut for the special Sunday meal. She lay inundated by her dream in which she had conjured up a conglomerate of multi-storeyed houses without doors, with people hanging out of high windows calling to her in unintelligible languages. She made no attempt to relate the dream to her situation or interpret its meaning but it felt like returning from a distant place where there was a hint of danger. She wondered how Jim and his mother were getting on and whether Jim was missing her yet. Their present situation could not be more remote from each other and she didn't know whether their relationship depended on propinquity. Time would tell.

She got up when she heard the family moving around down below and wrapped herself in her lava lava to go downstairs and join the family in a cup of tea. More than anything she wanted to go for an early swim and wondered if she could ask for permission on the Lord's Day.

## Chapter 35

The Sunday service was a revelation both for its religious aspect and its sociological one.

The giving of tithes and the announcement of individual family donations shocked Polly. It was no wonder that the Kolose family lived comfortably. The stout progressions of the well-known Wesleyan hymns were another big difference from the often jaunty piping of her Catholic childhood, while the music produced by those sturdy throats belting out their four- part harmonies made her hair stand on end. She thought how fortunate it was that they almost drowned out the hurdy-gurdy sound of the tinny harmonium. She so wished Jim was beside her!

To her surprise, she found herself wallowing in sensual satisfaction with the amazing singing, the interpolations of sea sounds and the waft of the village ovens promising the ritual meal. But she knew that she was responding to the accidents of the experience while the essence of the worship eluded her. She remained very much the outsider.

As she walked out of the church she saw Jupeli standing below the balustrade and smiling warmly at her.

'Could you follow the service?' he asked.

'Parts of it - but I didn't need to - I was so thrilled by the singing. How is it that you all have such marvellous voices?'

'We start when we're kids and it is just what we do all the time I s'pose.' He wanted to know if there was any food which she didn't like, because the meal was ready and he hoped she would enjoy it. Polly smiled gratefully and said she'd be fine.

After the meal everyone retired for a short siesta before the next session at the church was to begin. Polly lay on the bed and mused about the role of religion in the lives of the people who seemed to be completely wrapped up in it. It was so integral that she wondered if anybody ever questioned its doctrinal foundation. What would happen to anyone who did so she wondered, because they would sacrifice their social well-being and be cast into outer darkness. When she had told her parents that she didn't believe any more in the tenets of her upbringing her mother, in particular, had been very upset, but she allowed herself to be convinced by her husband that Polly had a right to her own convictions and life at home went on as before. She had found that her father enjoyed some of their discussions.

She was woken by a short shower of rain which was amplified by the tin roof and she got up to shut the louvres. Outside there was a healthy- looking pig snuffling around the grass where the food had been cooked. These animals held a privileged place in the life of the village but when the time came for slaughter, it was a grisly process which many expats criticised for its cruelty. The problem was that it was carried out within earshot of other people while industrialised slaughter was out of sight and earshot.

Luisa appeared at the door of the bedroom and asked Polly if she would like something to drink before the next church service.

'Do you want to go to the church again? You don't have to you know.'

'I want to hear more fantastic singing.'

The white-clad faithful began their walk along the road with umbrellas and bibles tucked under their arms. The large white hats appeared to Polly as a badge of womanhood and the tailored black lava lavas with buckled hip belts worn by the men, recalled the Sunday Best of her mother's day. The sun's rays were penetrating the western windows of the church now and a somnolent warmth, untempered by the morning breeze threatened to put Polly back to sleep. Her attentiveness was undermined and when she was woken suddenly by her head falling on to her chest, she opened her eyes wide and blinked hard several times. Luisa sitting next to her, turned and smiled sympathetically.

When at last release came from the tedium, she told Luisa that she would like to go for a walk along the beach. She felt as if she needed to gather her thoughts about the weekend experience which was nearly over. While she was sitting on a rock at the water's edge, Jupeli came to ask her if she was feeling unhappy. She laughed and asked him why he thought that way.

'You are alone.'

'I like to be alone sometimes. What about you?' He said he was never alone and he didn't think he'd like it.

'Don't you ever go for a walk so you can enjoy the beautiful nature that is all around you?'

'Only when I have to go to the next village and there is no pickup to take me.'

Polly tried to explain that in some parts of the world it was so crowded with people that it was almost a luxury to have some time alone but here nature was dominant and the need wasn't great perhaps. Jupeli suggested that they walk along the beach to the turn in the road where they could see the surf beach where they had met. There was time before the prayer bell summoned everyone back to the village and Polly could learn new words and expressions to describe the natural objects along the water's edge.

It was disturbing to find plastic flotsam encroaching at the water's edge and Polly asked Jupeli where it might have come from. He shrugged his shoulders.

'Perhaps the container ships in the harbour.'

As they walked silently around and over the rocks, Polly grappled with some incoherent thoughts about pristine beauty and people living a traditional lifestyle for centuries being unprepared to deal with an invasion of industrialised detritus. Plastic in its multitude of forms had long since displaced more organic materials, signalling development in the global mind. For Polly, it was so much part of her environment that it was only here and now that she was confronting its unnatural qualities. Had Jim been there instead of Jupeli, they would have discussed the topic with passion probably, but it was unlikely that she could test her ideas with Jupeli.

As they rounded the bend and saw the surf rolling in from the gap in the reef they looked at each other in recognition of Polly's solitary swim, but she quickly looked away and started to scrape the sand with her toe. From this vantage point she could see the danger. She sat down on a rock and stirred the pool water with her toes and Jupeli walked into the water up to his waist.

## Chapter 36

Peter had managed to cover a lot of territory in a hired car and he and Min went into the town for an evening meal whenever the chore of concocting something did not appeal. He brought up the subject again of buying a car and taking advantage of his help in the undertaking and Min had begun to warm to the idea, regardless of any rules to the contrary.

'Let's say that my martyrdom is wearing thin and that you've been sent on a mission to save me from myself.'

'Glad to be of service Ma'am.'

The next afternoon, he went to the High Commission to have a look through the newspapers which were part of his daily diet at home. He was sitting in the waiting area when a voice said,

'Peter Percival, I do believe.'

He looked up and saw his old friend from his university debating days and leapt to his feet.

'And what are you doing in this outpost of empire?' They shook hands energetically.

'Writing memos mostly. What are you doing - beach-combing or some vital anthropological research among the local beauties?'

'You haven't changed Rowan McInerney - still rapier-witted and the scourge of the unwary.'

After this ritual banter they agreed to meet for a beer at the end of the afternoon and to exchange hard facts.

Peter asked for advice about buying a car and explained how he hoped to help his friend who was initially reluctant to own what he had almost convinced her was a basic necessity.

'It's incredibly hard slog in a climate you're not used to and she's looking exhausted.'

'I'm finishing my tour of duty in a few weeks and I was hoping to sell my car. Would she be interested?'

Peter said it might depend on the price and Rowan pointed out that he'd be prepared to sell it duty-free as he had bought it.

'You're a decent chap after all,' laughed Peter.

'Well it would save me the hassle of flogging it off on the local market and left-hand drives aren't much use at home after all.'

Min was excited when Peter reported his afternoon's activity and said that the gods had spoken.

It had been arranged to go to Rowan McInerney's house for a meal the following Saturday when Min could have a test drive. She wondered how she'd manage to drive on the right and Peter told her that was the least of the problems. Avoiding other drivers cutting corners and barging through intersections would be what to watch out for.

Michael joined Min and Peter at the local hostelry one evening as planned, and he confessed to feeling unsettled in recent weeks. The prospect of the rainy season had set him thinking about a break somewhere, away from the heavy insistent heat.

'The Trans-Siberian railway might be the ticket,' said Min flippantly, but she got no reaction. Instead, Peter asked Michael if he had been to New Zealand.

'Only in transit - coming here.'

Peter said he had friends with a "crib" near the beach at the top end of the south island and it was often let out to friends. The temperature would be much cooler and at this time it was almost bound to be empty, so should he make enquiries? When he heard that the fishing was pretty good and the locals a mixed bunch, Michael agreed to take the idea further.

Plenty of wine and the hot night air injected some honest banter into the dialogue and Michael asked Peter if he knew anything about the local phenomenon of "fa'afa'afine". The latter laughed and said he hadn't had time to do any on the spot research but he'd heard about these feminised men. Michael said he found the subject fascinating - but academically, he added. Min had never seen this side of Michael and she wondered how far the conversation would go.

'You're probably too much the macho Aussie male to do research in depth,' said Peter in a burst of candour which made Min steer the conversation into more well-worn trans-Tasman banter.

'Have you any preconceptions about New Zealand - apart from the sheep jokes?'

'Only that it's a stronghold of dour Presbyterian Scots who are not famous for their rambunctiousness - I've been told - but I'm prepared to revise that impression.'

'While Oz is a stronghold of mad Irish larrikins, famous for their pursuit of hedonism,' countered Peter.

'Aha - but you've forgotten the influence of Holy Mother Church and her operatives who had a mandate to rein in our excesses by uttering threats of hellfire.'

Peter said that HMC had branches in New Zealand where according to his dear friend Min (he put his arm around her shoulders affectionately), the spirit was almost extinguished and replaced by a desire for self flagellation, using the same methods. Michael said he had recognised a kindred spirit in Min and he looked at her with a sort of bleary fondness.

'You wouldn't be good for each other,' Peter ventured, 'because you've both been forged in the same fire.'

'Oh shut up!' said Min, wriggling her shoulders free. 'Don't come the big brother with your amateur psychology.' She poured another glass of wine and took a gulp.

'I'm sorry Pete - you touched a nerve, and what I'm trying to say is that

I have to grow up in my own way and in my own time.'

Michael emptied the last of the wine into Peter's glass and said he'd enquire about flights to New Zealand before he asked for time off at the hospital.

'If all the folk in Enzed are like you two, it'll be a jolly time I'm thinking. I really appreciate your offer Peter. The meal's on me, by the way.'

As he drove them home Michael said he was feeling almost lighthearted which was a sensation he hadn't had for a very long time.

'Good bloke,' said Peter later, 'and no fool I'd say.'

Min said nothing but thought to herself that the Lucky persona was less in evidence and wondered why.

## Chapter 37

Robert had to visit the Big Island on forestry business and he wanted to go before the wet weather started in earnest. He was keen for Dinah to go with him because he also, like Polly, wanted to stay in a village instead of in the forestry complex where he had stayed every other time. Dinah had been thinking for some time of enrolling in a correspondence course in early childhood education, so she agreed to go with Robert because her hours in the library were still very flexible. She was apprehensive about sanitary arrangements which Robert countered by talking about those feisty Victorian women who, swathed in voluminous garments, rode on camels through deserts and swamps.

'OK, OK - I'm not Victorian and I'm not feisty - just a pampered Australian female who likes to know where the nearest powder room is.'

'That'll be clear enough - it'll be a privy perched on a rock regularly sluiced by the tide!'

'You don't understand of course, endowed as you are with your handy little device.'

Robert roared with laughter. 'It does come in handy I admit.'

'Anyway, what will I wear? I can't imagine the heat in one of those

Mother Hubbard frocks.'

'Look - it's only a couple of days and nights but if it's all too tiresome, don't come. I bet you'll always wish you'd had a taste of life in a village according to the rites of centuries.'

'Put like that, O persuasive one, I'll get a grip and pretend I'm Margaret Mead - who by the way, didn't venture far from the pastor's house to make her so-called groundbreaking anthropological discoveries.'

The accommodation was a fale on the perimeter of the village alongside the other forestry workers' huts. The manager's house was some distance away where some small huts were provided for other expatriates. Tim, the new manager, met them at the ferry and took them to the village where he introduced the visitors before they went to his house for a meeting.

While Robert attended the meeting, Dinah was offered the pickup to take some of the children to a nearby swimming hole which she was assured was safe. The little girls giggled when they saw Dinah slip off her dress to swim because she was wearing a swimsuit. They went into the water in the clothes they were wearing and Dinah wished she could have done the same.

English was a foreign language for these children but when Dinah asked if they went to school, they pointed gleefully to where the school must be. How far that was she couldn't guess but clearly they did not attend any sort of educational agency. What would their future be without literacy? The days of an unhampered lifestyle, no matter how tried and tested, were numbered and Dinah felt a real desire to open these little eyes to other possibilities. Their bright personalities she found enchanting and her idea of starting her new career was given a boost.

She remembered one of Min's anecdotes from her village school sessions; the student teacher asked the class what the missionaries had brought to these islands and the answer was "shoes". Apparently the student had looked questioningly at Min who thought subversively that the answer was not far wrong because shoes and puritanical religion were not only a confinement but were also superfluous in this tropical lifestyle.

While Dinah watched, the small brown bodies cavorted in and out of the water chattering happily. Every so often she said 'Hello. How are you?' and was amused when they chorused back to her in what was a distinct Australian accent. When the time came to stop playing and get into the pickup, Dinah's romantic notion of noble little savages was tested. Pointing to her wrist with no watch and then to the pickup only provoked more imitations and hilarity until she started the engine as if to drive away. Then there was a mad scramble of wet bodies and clothing clambering over one another to climb on board.

In spite of an invitation to have the evening meal with the manager and his family, Dinah decided that it was etiquette to eat in the village on the first night. To her dismay there was a large component of pisupo in the miscellaneous array on the plates so she had to communicate in sign language with Robert that she wanted to offload it on to his plate. They waited for a moment of general distraction and swiftly accomplished the transfer only to notice one of the children solemnly observing them.

Like a slowly lowering blind, darkness fell and there was a rush to reach the bedroom before total blackness enveloped everything. The pandanus blinds had been pulled down and a lighted kerosene lamp provided. On the same table there was also a Bible for bedtime reading, but they were both desperate for a more basic facility which had not been mentioned.

Dinah reminded Robert of her reservations expressed earlier so he agreed to accompany her into the darkness.

## Chapter 38

The sound of snuffling in the grass woke Dinah and she was surprised to see that it was daylight. She was even more surprised that she had slept soundly on the mat and she turned to see if Robert was awake. He was propped up on one arm reading the Bible and was not distracted by her quiet snort. Outside there was an echoing snort and Robert said without taking his eyes off the very small print -'Pig.'

'One thing about this bedding is you're not tempted to lie in. What shall we do now?'

Robert put the book down and took her arm and intoned piously,

'Holy Writ has put me in the mood for a bit of begetting.'

'You're joking,' said Dinah with such finality that he let go of her arm in disappointment.

'Right spoilsport, with your permission, I'm going down to the water and I'm going to immerse myself and then see what's on offer in the dining room.'

'I'll come with you and come back here for a dry lava lava.'

There was another sound in the grass and a woman's voice said in

English, 'Are you sleeping?'

'No,' they chorused and Dinah went to unroll one of the blinds. There was a girl of about sixteen holding two big mugs of milky tea which Dinah took, thanking her profusely. She was told that there was breakfast ready and smiled when Dinah said they were about to go for a swim.

Later, after Robert had gone off to the mill and Dinah had negotiated her way across the flat rocks to the feared latrine, she joined the group of old women who were placidly fanning themselves and watching the general activity all around them. Several of the men were sitting in a nearby small fale in what appeared to be a sort of conclave. Dinah felt awkwardly mute and she wondered what the women thought of her, unable to communicate except by smiling. Her smiles were greeted with solemn faces looking nowhere in particular. It was a relief when the young girl who had brought their morning tea asked her if she needed anything.

'Where did you learn to speak such good English?' Dinah was happy to break her silence.

'In the high school in the town.'

Dinah heard how she had been at school when her mother took ill and she had to come back to the island to look after her younger siblings. Her mother had since died and she had stayed. What were her chances of going back to school? Her shy smile was non-committal and again, Dinah found herself imagining a future with limitations vis-à-vis the wider world. In spite of a lack of curiosity which surprised her, she mentioned some facts about herself and Robert - where they came from and what they were doing. Inevitably some of the relatives had gone overseas so Australia and New Zealand were familiar names. While she was chatting to the girl, some of the children came up to Dinah to show her shells that they had picked up on the beach.

'They're lovely,' she said, as she handed them back, but it was made clear that she was to keep them. She knew that she would remember the time and the place of this touching and simple act.

Robert had promised to come and collect her around lunch time when they would drive to the famous blowholes and have a picnic with the manager and his family.

While they enjoyed the picnic prepared by Tim's wife Anne, he told them about the forester who had fallen into a blowhole and been given up as drowned.

'It was a sheer bloody miracle as you'll see,' said Tim, putting a large chunk of imported cheese on a slab of white bread.

The approach to the blowholes was over several metres of the rocky foreshore but the roaring sound could be heard from where they were sitting. At first Robert thought of geysers, but these water spouts were more voluminous than any geysers he had seen at home in New Zealand. Their number and frequent eruption were determined by the force of the sea below the cliff face and Dinah felt that fatal attraction which repulsed her.

The miracle man had been sucked out through one of the vents and taken out to the churning foam to his presumed death. Sometime later, after a mourning process had begun in a nearby village and his wife and children were being consoled, the "dead" man walked into the village like a revenant attending his own obsequies. Ultimately he described how he had been carried along the coast to a place where the seawall lowered and he was able to clamber on to the beach.

When Robert walked close to one of the vents, Dinah shrieked at him to stop but her pleas were absorbed by the constant roaring as the sea rushed in. Later, on the way back to the village she was totally silent and he was mystified as to the reason. Filled with the vision of possibilities, she had withdrawn into herself. Much later when they were alone she called him a foolhardy fuckwit.

'It was a thrill to get as close as I did to the boiling cauldron and you're behaving like an overprotective mother. I'm a big boy you know.'

'That's the problem - "boy" is the operative word,' she muttered quietly.

'Look, let's not get all het up. We have a different fear threshold obviously, and I can understand your fear reaction - I just don't share it

\- that's all.'

That night, as she lay on the mat in the pitch dark unable to sleep after the day's events, she remembered how as a young child she would jump into her bed from as far away as possible, fearing being sucked under it by some unknown force. She hadn't thought of that primal apprehension for a very long time.

She jumped suddenly when she felt an arm touch her shoulder and

Robert whispered, 'I'm sorry.'

'I thought you were asleep.'

'I'm thinking about that bloke who defeated the odds. Bloody amazing.'

'That's what scared me so much - he was a big boy too you realise.' Robert pulled her on to his mat and said 'Let's play grown-ups,' and she shook with the relief from tension.

'And we won't be pretending,' he hissed in her ear.

## Chapter 39

'A foray into the comfortable diplomatic lifestyle might interrupt my acceptance of austerity,' said Min as she brushed her eyelashes in front of the mirror in the bathroom. 'This will be a test of my commitment perhaps.'

'Or else you'll realise how much more interesting it is to do your apprenticeship in the art of making do,' Peter said between vigorous brushings of his teeth.

'And you'll be able to tell me whether it's more interesting to take a holiday among the proles or enjoy the delights of home away from home with tropical extras.'

'I think I know the answer already but I'll tell you when I've sampled the high life here.'

Ronan had offered to pick up his guests at six-thirty so they could look around the garden at the commission house before dark. When she saw the white Japanese car, Min had a flashback to that day when the very same car had sped by her as she trudged home laden with books, in the burning sun. Was that the day when she began to renounce the ideal of self-abnegation and decided that she'd had enough of God's grace? None of these thoughts was conveyed to the other two but she couldn't help smiling at the serendipity of the situation. Looking back to those confused sentiments of moral righteousness and envious bewilderment she felt justified in the present clarity of her position. Put into words, it might be summed up as "Bugger hardship".

They drove up to the compound of attractive wooden houses separated by lush tropical growth. The timbered interior was open and light, shaded along one side by a verandah supporting a huge bougainvillea. They were offered a selection of spirits and deliciously cool white wines which they sipped gracefully enfolded in soft-cushioned chairs. Min found herself stroking the airy cushions like big compliant pets.

'This is like floating on air,' she said respectfully.

'I know what you mean,' Ronan was instantly understanding. 'I've served my time on those mead hall thrones in the fales but you can enjoy this minor luxury only where there's air conditioning.'

Peter added that the local buildings and furnishings were examples of harmony with the environment and he'd noticed that the local bodies also were perfectly adapted to sitting cross-legged for ages.

'I wonder how many of the people here have knee replacements.'

After the meal which had the double charm of home-grown lamb and somebody else's culinary touch, they talked about the car which Min agreed to buy on the terms offered.

'You'll have to change the diplomatic plates,' said Ronan apologetically.

'Of course. I don't need diplomatic immunity anyway,' replied Min with a straight face.

The evening went quickly as they talked about mutual friends and some recent gossip. Ronan asked Min if she played sport and she said she didn't unless you counted jumping to conclusions. Peter verified that and then asked about scuba diving.

'Have you done it before?'

'Now and again but I'd need some supervision.' He was interested to hear about a course available.

'I can let you use my gear until I leave as long as I get it back in time to pack it. You wouldn't want to pay excess baggage anyway - would you?'

'True. When exactly do you leave?'

'In a couple of weeks or so - you can collect the car on the Friday night if you like.'

Min expressed some doubt about driving on the right but was assured that it was soon mastered. Then to Peter's complete surprise she told Ronan about the accident in which her partner had been killed, and sudden tears, as if released by the words that she had not spoken before, gushed forth without warning. Peter took a handkerchief from his pocket and went over to hand it to her not knowing what else to do. He looked at Ronan whose uneasiness prompted him to pour Min another drink. She shook her head trying to overcome her hysteria, gasping out 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.'

Why this came upon her so unexpectedly when she had been feeling relaxed and at home she had no idea. Perhaps the prospect of driving again after so many months and the subtle reminders of home and its unavoidable memories had aroused feelings suppressed until now in the alien environment. As she tried to calm her sobs she heard Peter telling Ronan the bare facts of the accident in which they had both fallen asleep and Min had woken up in hospital. Although he knew all the facts, he did not mention that they had been married one month and were going to visit her parents who had not attended the wedding because it was in a registry office. Hugo was not religious and Min had never confronted her parents with her loss of childhood faith knowing what their reaction would be.

Later at home they had tried to understand why Min had been so overcome. She said that her emotions just erupted and perhaps it was the first time she had felt permission to release them. The company had been so empathic.

'There's something you don't know Pete, because I've never told anyone. It's so shocking. My mother told my cousin who is devout and therefore acceptable, that Hugo's death was probably punishment for my sin. Can you imagine that?'

'It's sick and you know it Min,' Peter said passionately.

'I know it rationally, but others' heartlessness is too pervasive to ignore when it's in your own family.'

'Promise me Min that you won't allow yourself to ever think of that shit again. It's not worthy of your intellect.'

Min got up to give him a hug on her way to bed. 'You've been good for me Peter dear and I'm so glad you're here.'

He smiled and let his head drop supported by his clasped hands. He had been disturbed by Min's revelation and needed to sit quietly for a while and reflect in silence. It dawned on him with clarity that mental abuse was as damaging and more subtle, than the now widely recognised physical kind.

## Chapter 40

There was not a soul on the beach when they headed for the river mouth to see where the tide was. It was still high but not too high for them to cross holding their lunch things above their heads and then depositing them under the mangroves.

Peter was as charmed as Min thought he would be and he jumped into the river to be carried by the swift out-going tide. Min followed after a while and they drifted pleasantly letting the wash of cool stream water carry them out into the warm lagoon. Min dived under the water in an attempt to exorcise her recent stress. She was still shaken by her inexplicable reaction during what was a most enjoyable evening but she reminded herself that "the heart has its reasons which the reason can never know". She was sure however, that somewhere in the mystery Peter had played a role as catalyst in what she hoped might be a milestone in her journey.

She lay on her back luxuriating in the supportive salty water and gazed at the cerulean sky; she wondered if she would be as moved by her surroundings if she could understand why the sky was so blue. Did a deeper knowledge enhance the beauty or in demystifying it, reduce the wonder?

Preoccupied with such contemplations she slowly became aware of voices coming from the mangrove area. She stood up and as she wrung the water out of her hair she saw Peter squatting on the sand talking to a young man. She could also hear the voices of children and a wave of resentment replaced her dreamy mood in which she had been alone in Eden. She waded back to the shore and sat on her towel looking out at the lagoon with her back to the others. Shortly afterwards, Peter called to her to come and meet Fono who lived in the village further up the river. In the face of his broad smile her churlishness abated a little and when Peter asked him to share their lunch she simply thought of how he would divide the meagre spoils. No sooner had they started to munch on the chunks of white bread and tinned corned beef than a bevy of children crept out from behind the mangroves and squatted nearby.

Peter asked Fono if he should give them some of the food but he was told that it was customary for the adults to eat their fill and the children would have the leftovers. Min was discomfited by the eager faces watching her and lost her appetite while Peter seemed unaffected. When Min mentioned the fact to him later he scoffed gently at her sensibility.

'You need to grow another skin,' he teased.

When the picnic had been totally consumed Fono invited them to visit his village which he said was near the sea. Min remembered that points of the compass were expressed in this part of the world, simply as "near the sea" or "away from the sea". Therefore, she had no idea how long it would take them to reach the village through the dense vegetation but Peter was undeterred and accepted enthusiastically. She would decouple her plans and go with the flow.

It was very quiet when they reached the small collection of houses because people were sleeping off the midday meal. They were shown the plantation of taro and pineapples and the few cocoa plants which had survived for several generations. Fono shrugged uninterestedly when Peter asked him if they grew enough cocoa for export. He didn't think so. By this time the children had lost interest in the strange couple and must have joined their parents on their sleeping mats. Fono gave Min and Peter two pineapples and drinking coconuts and before they said goodbye, Peter broached the idea of meeting in town.

Min was reluctant to be a witness to these negotiations which for her were delicate, so she walked off on her own to allow Peter free rein. She was ignorant of the protocols of man to man mating rituals she was thinking to herself and in fact they did not interest her. This was the significant area where she and Peter parted company. Her experience in the relationship game was limited and her belief was stranded somewhere between the nuns' naïve counsels about keeping yourself pure for the good Catholic boy who would offer you a lifetime guarantee of married virtue and her innate rebellion. She felt as if she was floundering in uncharted waters.

When Peter caught her up on the overgrown track he told her that Fono sometimes worked in the big hotel in the town so they could go there for a meal one night soon in case he was there. It had not been possible to pin him down to times as they didn't seem to mean much to him.

'There's more to communication than mere words and it can be misleading when you think you've said one thing but it has been interpreted differently by the listener.' No, she was sorry, but she couldn't think of any examples off hand.

'Perhaps long-term appointments which we take for granted are not part of the culture, especially in the villages further away from town commerce.'

Nothing more was said about Peter's new acquaintance. When they got back to their little encampment their things were as they had left them and the tide was out.

'I'm starving,' said Min, 'so let's carve up the pineapple.' They sat under the mangroves and let the juice pour down their arms and over their knees in a state of happy abandon. This was a bonus and proof that going with the flow had its rewards. It was a longer walk out beyond the warm shallow water to have a last dip and wash the sugary juice off with the brine. Peter was in an exultant mood and he dived under the water to grab Min's legs and then give her a hug as they surfaced together.

'You are right - this is a blissful spot and I've had a perfect day. Perhaps we'll come again.'

Min was glad that she had not let her inflexible will win the day.

## Chapter 41

Just as Michael was tucking his airline ticket into his wallet he heard a "Yoohoo" from the other side of the road. Looking up, he saw Dinah with a young girl who had the longest blond pigtails that he'd ever seen. He waved and crossed the street to catch up on the latest news and Dinah introduced her niece from Queensland.

'Lucky - this is Tasha.'

The girl looked confused as she held out her hand.

'My real name's Michael,' he smiled at Dinah who queried him with surprise.

'I'm planning a holiday in New Zealand and I don't think an Australian called Lucky would go down terribly well there,' he replied by way of a simple explanation.

'Are you going with Min?'

Michael explained the genesis of his trip and heard that Dinah's sister, brother-in-law and niece were staying for a few weeks before the worst of the wet season set in.

'How about coming out to a barbie tomorrow evening to meet some fellow countrymen?'

Dinah drew a map on the back of Michael's airline folder without the benefit of street names.

'You just follow the lines I've drawn and you won't go wrong.'

The first of the rains came the next day and Michael rang to see if the barbecue was off. There was a generous carport beside the house so no change, he was told.

While he was driving along the last straight stretch of road, the rain which had been pounding the island all day became an almost solid sheet of water blinding his view. He was about to stop when he felt the car take a sideways plunge and his upper body slid into the passenger seat. Once the shock moment passed he began to curse loudly in a useless defence against the pounding rain and his awkward position. For a few more moments he lamely accepted the impossible and then told himself that he must do something. He remembered that there was an old plastic coat in the glove box and if he could manoeuvre himself out of the car somehow, he could struggle through the watery curtain to find help. This felt like a shipwreck in the middle of the ocean.

He finally levered himself back into the driver's seat and tried to open the door. The dual forces of gravity and rain proved too much at first so he slumped back again into the hopelessness he'd felt minutes before. It was a burst of anger which enabled him to open the door and to scramble through to find the road some feet away. The door slammed heavily and he put on the poncho and began to walk into what felt like the heart of darkness. The only sounds were the rain hitting the protective plastic and his gasps for breath. It was an eternity of pointless trudging and he began to laugh. He was King Lear in a Russian film he had once seen and he started to shout ecstatically and hopelessly.

Into this scenario came two points of distorted light and his first thought was that he might be run down by a vehicle. What should he do - step aside or stand in the road? As the machine came closer and he realised that its speed was restricted by the conditions, he bellowed and went towards the centre of the road waving his arms in a moving X formation. As Robert described later for the amusement of his guests, there was this sudden disturbance of the relentless sheets of rain in his field of reduced vision. He stopped and a semi-wild figure looked through his window mutely.

Michael climbed into the pickup like an exhausted swimmer and massaged his lips before saying a word.

'You're not on your way to a barbecue by any chance?' Robert's dry question made Michael snigger limply.

'How did you guess?' he croaked out of his rain-battered mouth. Robert asked where the car was and whether Michael had his keys.

'Somewhere back there in a ditch and no, I haven't.'

When they arrived at the house Robert pointed to the rain-swept carport and told Michael he'd come on a wild goose chase. Dinah was concerned at the sight of their bedraggled guest and asked Phil her brother-in-law, if he had a spare pair of trousers. Dry clothes and a shower restored Michael to his urbane self so he could meet Linda and Phil on equal terms. Robert however, did not want to lose a chance to describe the meeting in the pitch dark on what he hoped was the road.

'It's hard enough to find your way through the labyrinth of signless roads but on a night like this it's a wonder we met at all.' Michael, in the back of his mind was wondering how he would get home and how he would rescue the car but he made no mention of these practicalities. The conversation veered in another direction entirely as they sat around the table of food and local beer.

'Linda and Phil are trying to persuade me and Robert to move to Queensland and set up a business there. Tourism is booming apparently.'

'What sort of business - anything in particular?'

'Perhaps a scuba diving thingy. It's really popular with the Japanese.'

'I'm more of a bushman myself,' said Robert, stubbing out a cigarette on a plate.

Michael expressed surprise. 'I didn't know you smoked Rob.' Dinah rolled her eyes.

'Only when I'm under stress,' he replied and Michael wondered if he was joking. Perhaps he was not keen on living in Queensland in spite of its top rating by its inhabitants.

Tasha spoke up suddenly to say that it had stopped raining. Had anyone noticed? There was even a watery moon making brief appearances through scudding clouds. Michael wanted to try and pull his car out of the ditch if the weather stayed clear so Robert who had a rope in his pickup, offered to give it a try. He would drive Michael home if necessary. It was then that the latter had an idea.

'Look - I'm off to New Zealand in a day or two. Perhaps you three would like to mind my house and you could use the car once it's in an upright position.'

The suggestion was enthusiastically received all round and Robert, Phil, Michael and Tasha who was aware of a lot of dishes to be washed, went off to find the car and inspect the damage.

'Now for a nice therapeutic pile of dishes,' laughed Linda as she turned on the tap and swished the detergent fiercely.

'We're a most efficient dish-washing team - you might recall?' said Dinah as she put her arms around her sister from behind.

The offer of separate accommodation had come at an opportune moment because Robert was feeling the pressure of moving to Australia rather overwhelming.

'Your old man's a taciturn sort of bloke I must say.'

'We're a good team all the same,' admitted Dinah defensively, as she kept up the pace with the drying.

## Chapter 42

Since Min had been taken up with her visitor and the car business, she had not seen Polly to hear all about the village weekend. She was also interested in introducing her to Peter.

They arranged to meet at the market one afternoon when they were doing their shopping. Polly was surprised and rather envious to learn that Min had bought a car inducing another bout of misgivings in that sensitive soul.

'Are you allowed to take rides with friends?' asked Min with false humility.

'You bet. Anyway, I'm not going to enquire so feel free to take us wherever you want.'

Peter looked around at the crowd of buyers and sellers and commented on the fact that a group of elderly men were sitting in a circle at one end of the market for no apparent reason. Compared with all the hurly-burly around about, they were singularly unanimated.

'If you look carefully,' said Polly confidentially, 'you'll see a kava bowl in the middle of the group and they're slowly advancing towards nirvana.' Peter said he was keen to do the same and how could he get an invitation.

'What's the news of Jim's mother?' said Min, ignoring his question.

'She's responded to the treatment and he plans to come back soon after Christmas.'

When Min told Peter about Polly's language interest and her weekend immersion in her teacher's village, he turned away from his study of the kava circle to ply her with questions about it. Polly told him that she had stayed with the pastor in a two-storeyed house which she had suggested was "bit of a copout" but was as much as she could manage the first time.

'I really admire people who sleep in a village fale on mats with other people. Next time perhaps...'

'And Eturasi's brother - what's he like?'

Polly blushed slightly, highlighting her trademark freckles and later, Peter asked Min if she'd noticed. She admitted that she had but it was probably the direct way that she had asked the question.

'I bet you a tin of fish that there's something going on there.'

When Polly and Min had done their shopping and Peter had hovered near the kava circle which reminded him of a pub back home where beer and cigarettes were agents of mateship, they invited Polly to the big hotel for a drink. The first person they saw was Dinah who was ordering drinks from the cheerful barman. She was wearing a lei of frangipani around her neck and the perfume was so heady that Peter asked her where he could get some for his friends. Dinah led them over to meet her relations and pointed out the little girls who were selling them. There was only one left after that and they put it around Peter's neck. He gave them all his change and they ran off excitedly. The perfume was overpowering.

'Is there any news of Michael?'

'He rang on his second night away to ask about the car but nothing since,' said Linda, who went on to recount the story of his horror drive in the rain. She said that the car had not been damaged but was seriously wedged in the mud and had to be towed out. Dinah explained to her sister that Peter was the person who had arranged Michael's accommodation in New Zealand.

'So you are responsible for our good luck in having a house - and a car!' Linda smiled wide-eyed at Peter. 'Let me buy you a drink.'

Polly and Dinah swapped village stories to the amusement of the others but Dinah had the same reaction as Min.

'A house - and a flushing loo I presume!!' She shook her head and Polly said 'OK, OK - you win the hardship crown.' And Dinah bowed her head in acknowledgement.

Dinah asked what Min and Polly were doing for Christmas which would be hot and sticky with no sign of the man in the red suit she hoped.

'It's bad enough in Australia seeing all that tacky false snow and papier mâché reindeer. I certainly hope there's nothing of that ilk here.'

Polly said she'd miss the traditional Christmas which they celebrated with every known trimming at home. And Jim would still be away; it was beginning to sound like a non-event.

Dinah said that they turned on some special entertainment at the hotel so how about they book in now for whatever was on offer. There was general agreement although Peter thought he'd be leaving before Christmas.

'Have you got your ticket?' asked Dinah, 'because the planes will all be booked up by now probably. Half the country travels overseas to spend Christmas with their rellies.'

'It looks as if you might have to stay Pete.' Min tried to look sad. 'And the fares have probably gone up by now - life's one big disappointment.' She waited for him to react but he just outstared her and the others looked confused. The others were trying to interpret the subtext.

Dinah went to reception and booked a table and when they left, Peter, Polly and Min hired some swimming gear and repaired to the pool. They didn't notice the dark flocculent clouds ready to dump their summer payload because they were indulging in adolescent hi-jinks. Polly asked Peter if he'd heard about Min's impromptu dance routine and she suggested that Min give them a demonstration. Feeling mellow, Min obliged and stood beside the pool and went through her paces. Just then, there was a hiss of lightning followed by an explosion and the sky poured forth. She flopped into the water and Polly and Peter rushed to grab her and to bounce up and down hysterically with their leis swinging, while they were bombarded by the ferocious elements trying to force them to behave sensibly and run for cover.

Everyone else had long since fled the impending storm leaving the lunatic trio (folie à trois, as Min called it later) to vent their pent-up energy in the privacy of the tumult. Rationality slowly returned and they ran to the bar where a few bemused patrons were still holding out against the noise of cascading rain. In their bedraggled state they sped to the hotel exit wearing the hired costumes and leis and climbed into the car with breathless relief.

'Come round later if you feel like it,' shouted Polly as she struggled out with her basket. But once they were home and dry Peter and Min fell into an exhausted sleep accompanied by the continued drumming of the rain.

## Chapter 43

The rain was an insistent presence and the dampness in clothes and books increased the weightiness of everything. The heavy pungency sapped energy and slowed the pace of life further. The slow gait of the locals was an adaptive feature which conserved energy to a degree, while the visitors who arrived from cooler climates coiled up and ready to spring, were stopped in their tracks by the heavy humid air.

When Michael arrived back from a New Zealand summer with its often crisp evenings after warm dry days, he felt as if he were entering a sauna full of bodies.

The airport terminal building was packed with expectant relatives there to greet those who were coming home for Christmas. Dinah's blond head was freakishly placed among them and could be seen from the enclosed customs area where imported household appliances were being given the once-over. Michael was hoping that his single jar of honey would pass scrutiny.

'How was your time among the kiwis - riotous?' Dinah gave him a quick embrace.

'Interesting and different I have to say.'

As the luggage train trundled into the concourse Dinah asked which television set was his. He smiled and picked off his modest suitcase and described the carrousel at the other end of the journey as a conveyor belt of oven packs. The airline carried an unofficial import-export cargo for the comfort of locals wherever they happened to live.

Robert was waiting in the shade of a tree not far from the car and handed the keys to Michael who asked how it had performed since the night in the ditch. He commented on its clean condition after the state he had left it in.

There was a pleasant note on the table in his house, which was much more spruce than he had left it, with money in an envelope which Dinah said was for electricity usage.

'Let's splash out on a meal down town - the food on the plane left a lot to be desired - and I have a couple of bottles of wine which I got from a vineyard near where I was staying.'

Over the meal Michael described the house he'd stayed in which was within the roar of the Tasman Sea.

'There was a huge fireplace in the main room which would have been great in winter but the days were warm and I retired early in the evening to read. There was an oldish television set but I didn't bother turning it on. I've got used to living without it here anyway.'

Dinah wanted to know if the house was clean and if there were creepy crawlies to deal with and shuddered when Michael said there had been a visitation by rodents at some stage.

'According to some rules on the kitchen wall there was everything needed in the cleaning line but things had to be replaced. I gave the benches a scrub down and found clean bed linen in a cupboard. Obviously the place was used a lot and the owners are going there straight after Christmas. The beach is wonderful and there's good fishing. Have you been to that part of New Zealand Robert?'

'When I was a kid. Did you manage to swim?' Robert grinned. He expected to hear that the cool temperature was too daunting after the blood heat in the tropics.

'Y'know - there's something to be said for that bracing coolness. It tones up the skin and you feel great afterwards.'

At the recall of his regular plunges into the slight surf Michael mopped the back of his neck with his handkerchief. He hadn't sweated since he left.

A young waiter was smiling and listening, waiting for the break in the conversation to hand out the menus. Michael gave him a bottle of sauvignon blanc to open while they chose from the usual offerings.

'No fish for me,' said Michael, 'because I want to remember the wonderful stuff I caught and cooked almost every day. A German bloke offered me some of his gear and advice and it was spot on. Can't remember the name of the fish - it had a Maori name.'

'Kawahai?' suggested Robert.

'I think that's the one. I was able to give some of it away.'

Robert said he was starting to feel homesick and he reminded Michael about the idea that he and Dinah move to Queensland. The relatives had been full of the opportunities to set up business in the tourism industry. Michael was less enthusiastic.

'They're a mixed blessing - tourists. I hope the spot I've just visited is never spoilt by busloads of shutter-clickers. Next come the developers eyeing the coast as real estate.'

Robert agreed, saying that in his opinion so-called environmental tourism was a contradiction in terms. The preservation of habitat was the number one priority and anything which threatened that had to be controlled. The genial waiter appeared with large plates with colourful salads taking up much of the surface.

They poured the wine into tumblers and raised them to toast the future. As she negotiated her fork around her plate Dinah said that she would be bored to death in some backwater because she was a city girl at heart.

'Rob and I wouldn't last five minutes if I couldn't shop and enjoy good coffee. Living here is hard enough at times and my sister reminded me of that.'

'It's quite different for me,' said Michael. 'I've discovered that nature is all important - as long as I have access to books. And that's a problem I admit.'

'You two should go and join a monastery.' Dinah was beginning to sound exasperated.

Robert chipped in. 'Steady on old girl - I didn't say anything about celibacy, did I?'

Michael held the wine up to the light. 'Not a bad drop, wouldn't you say?' There was a mumbled agreement as the other two picked up their glasses.

'Monks always have a plentiful supply of this stuff so that wouldn't be a problem.'

Dinah smiled and put her hand on Robert's who cast a glazed glance in her direction.

Was she trying to tell him something?

## Chapter 44

Christmas came and went without the hoop-la that the expats were used to and Peter said it had been a welcome change. He had been unable to get a seat on a plane and remarked to Min that there would probably be plenty of other more familiar settings - even the white variety perhaps. 'The fia fia at the hotel had been a lively affair and to his surprise he saw Fono in the entertainment squad. He had sought him out before going to Michael's house and he asked him if he was staying overnight. This being so, he arranged to meet him the following morning before Fono returned to his village.

Nothing was said during the evening at Michael's although Min had an idea that Peter was on tenterhooks. Their relationship had developed over the weeks to the point where each one was very sensitive to the other's mood.

Peter drove to the hotel with the intention of taking Fono for a drive to a place he could choose, but as it happened the offer was turned down. So they sat under the verandah outside the bar and while Peter drank beer his young friend was content with fruit juice. Away from his own territory and surrounded by post-Christmas revellers the young man seemed shy. He was interested in Peter's life at home and asked him if he had a family. When he heard that Peter lived alone his face broke into a smile for the first time.

'Is it your wife here in our country?'

'She is not my wife.'

'She's your girlfriend then?' Peter leaned back in his chair and stretched out one of his legs wondering how he would explain his relationship with Min. He looked up from studying his beer and said 'I'm gay.' Fono giggled at this revelation but said nothing. Peter could feel the conversation going astray and temporised by offering another drink and something to eat.

They sat in silence for a while picking at the pretzels which Peter found soft and unappetising, until Fono asked if he could get a job in New Zealand. Feeling frustrated Peter made discouraging remarks about the job market and tried to explain why. His talk of privatisation and its effect on the workforce generally and on unskilled jobs in particular was obviously a foreign language and Peter found himself feeling a certain vindictive satisfaction which he later regretted.

Peter had noticed the waiters looking surreptitiously in their direction from time to time and he tried to figure out what they would be thinking. He was pretty sure that they were a more sophisticated breed than his friend and he began to feel awkward. Which of them had been more naïve? he thought ruefully. They had both misunderstood the other's motives so they had talked past each other.

Fono started cracking his knuckles.

'My idea is not good,' he laughed nervously looking at his very large hands. Peter was immediately mollified and told him that one day the job market would improve and he could consider emigrating.

'You have such a beautiful village right near the sea - why do you want to leave to go and work in a factory?'

'We have no telephone or electricity. We go to bed early every night. I have no money.'

That was the dilemma. Dissatisfaction with one's lot. Greener grass on the other side of the fence. But Peter was sure that leaving home at this point would end in tears.

When they shook hands to say goodbye, Fono glanced briefly at Peter with a small jerk of his head and Peter felt another stab of attraction. He was such a beautiful young man.

He wrote his address on one of the table menus and took some notes out of his wallet. As he handed them to Fono he said to himself in a wave of self-justification, 'I've done the right thing even if it was for the wrong reasons and all's for the best in the best of all possible worlds.'

Min was taking a siesta when he arrived back at the house so he decided to go to the seafront and hire some snorkelling gear. A visit to the undersea world would distract him from the morning's exercise. It was almost unbearably hot and sticky and escape from that discomfort was essential. Min was a reluctant diver so she would not complain when he told her where he had been. On the other hand, she would be curious about his morning's absence and he was unsure as to what he should tell her.

There was no one in the hiring booth and Peter was miffed. He had noticed over the weeks of his stay that it was better not to have great expectations that what is supposed to happen, would happen. Min told him however that the corollary of that was a mysterious accomplishing of tasks with a minimum overt display of activity. So far she had been unable to divine the mystery at the heart of things but had learned to exercise patience when things did not get done when, and in the way that she wanted.

It was too hot to sit in the car to see if anybody turned up to open the hiring booth and the coral in this area was razor sharp and lethal so Peter decided to drive to the surf beach and submit himself to the brutal wave power which he missed during the gentle immersions in the lagoon. He remembered that Polly had also ventured into the surf at this spot for the same reason and was issued with a warning by a rogue wave. He felt like taking a risk after the strange morning and the long lazy days he had spent over the past two months. It was time to get the adrenalin pumping.

There was no one in sight and he sat on the sand watching the water churning and thrashing - a law unto itself and for itself - to the point that he was mesmerized by it. He was watching the ocean's ambassadors arriving and retreating and performing the task of connecting the land masses of the planet endlessly, tirelessly, until the dissolution of the world. He started to feel drowsy and lay down on the sand lazily clawing its glistening grains with his fingers.

Against the roar of the sea he thought he heard voices so he propped himself up on his elbows and looked around. The sun's glare was still blinding even though the afternoon was quite advanced. Just as he decided that he was still alone, he saw two heads appear above the rocks nearby. Then he heard his name and he saw Polly approaching through the glare with somebody following a few steps behind.

## Chapter 45

When Eturasi returned from New Zealand he was keen to know how the language classes had gone so he called on Polly one afternoon on his way home from his first day back at the newspaper office. Jim had just returned too and was looking stooped and tired. Polly on the other hand, looked very healthy and even more attractive he thought. His first question was a tentative enquiry after Jim's mother and he was relieved to know that she was still alive but had undergone treatment which Jim said had taken its toll on her. On Jim too, thought Eturasi.

'She would have been in good hands no doubt,' said Eturasi who had a positive notion of western medicine especially in the United States.

'My mother has never had much faith in the medical system,' explained Jim wearily, 'and she finds it hard to communicate with the doctors. It was complicated by having to deal with several of them too. And how are your folks in Noo Zealand?'

'They're well on the whole,' he said, 'but the job situation at the moment is worrying - thanks to an economic upheaval which is cutting jobs right left and centre. It's hard on our people who are usually employed in things like the car assembly industry which is looking shaky.'

He went on to say that unskilled foreign workers were received with open arms when they were needed but they were looking expendable now. He sounded bitter and said he thought many of the migrants would be better off coming home.

Polly was sitting absorbed in the conversation but she suddenly realised that she had not offered Eturasi anything to drink.

'Jim has brought back some very nice coffee.'

Eturasi smiled and said he'd got used to good coffee in the various cafés which had sprouted up in Auckland since his last visit ten years' ago. He added that the local markets were selling much more ethnic food than earlier too.

He finally got around to asking about the language study.

'I wondered if you'd like me to take over from Jupeli now that I'm back and not going anywhere as far as I know.'

'It's been great,' Polly sounded flustered. She had got used to Jupeli's style and wanted to continue with him. But how was she to put the idea tactfully?

'We're delving into a small project,' she lied, 'so perhaps I should see it through with Jupeli.'

'Oh - what's the project?' Polly's fib caused her to detect a note of scepticism. Wasn't it always like this? You try to spare someone's feelings and end up getting into real strife. She gave her coffee a stir and took a sip her mind racing.

'Jupeli is showing me a Polynesian view of the heavens - it's incredibly interesting.'

'I had no idea that he was particularly clued up in that department.'

'He's become fascinated since I asked him the names of the constellations.' She was on the verge of being lyrical and made Eturasi smile.

'Polynesians were great navigators weren't they?' offered Jim who had been convinced by Polly's quick thinking.

Eturasi confirmed this point and described how the Maori had navigated over several latitudes across the vast Pacific as far as New Zealand, using the stars and currents as guides.

Polly in the meantime was deliberating how she would let Jupeli know about their project. She asked Eturasi casually if he had seen Jupeli yet.

'He's coming around tomorrow after the market delivery I think.'

The next afternoon Polly cycled off in the baking heat to the market and found herself a plastic chair where she had a view of the comings and goings of pickups. She bought a glass of the garish green lime drink and sipped contemplatively and very slowly. A mixture of cooking smells wafted around her and she began to feel squeamish. Her face began to perspire so she went to one of the near stalls to buy a fan. Jupeli saw her there and asked her what she was doing and her explanation made him laugh loudly because he had already heard about the project from Eturasi and worked out what was going on.

'I guessed that you wanted to continue the lessons with me! I'm hot stuff, ha!ha!'

This was the last straw. 'You're devious,' she said through clamped teeth.

'What do you mean?'

'Never mind. I need to get home \- I'm feeling unwell.'

He put her bicycle into the back of the pickup and drove her home. He was less ebullient than at first and Polly felt guilty. She had set this whole scenario up and had only herself to blame. However she couldn't help feeling frustrated by the poor communication that was obvious between her and Jupeli. He was flattered by the knowledge that Polly had chosen him over his brother and apparently insensitive to the complications which ensued. She was almost sure that it would be impossible to convey the vexation which she was feeling. Would it be any different with Jim? She couldn't answer that but she was almost certain that Min would understand how she felt.

The first thing she needed was a cool glass of boiled water to dilute the saccharine green liquid she had subjected her body to. Her mind was in turmoil and she lay down on the bed to gather her wits. She would tell Min the whole story because she was a good listener who gave her full attention to a situation. In Polly's experience few people listened with the empathy required to help the speaker to clarify their own thoughts. Rather, these interlocutors bided their time preparing to launch into an experience of their own - not to illustrate their understanding but to parade their own obsessions. Min was not like that, and Polly wondered all of a sudden why. And the corollary of being a good listener in her opinion was discretion.

## Chapter 46

Things had moved quickly for Yushi and wedding preparations were under way in Fanua's village. It was going to be a lively affair and Yushi sometimes felt incidental to its momentum. Whenever he went to the village these days the talk was about dresses, food, church decorations and speeches. Although he had not been to a wedding in his home country the image of a traditional Japanese wedding was clear in his mind: heavy robes, white makeup and a semblance of puppetry. He found himself wishing they could dispense with all the trappings and the more he thought about them the more he felt alienated. He was even having doubts about marriage itself.

He had seen very little of Min during the rainy season while she had been on holiday and entertaining her visitor. So one afternoon after Peter had left he scooted over to her house with the intention of talking to her about the shape of things and as it turned out, about his misgivings.

His mercurial engagement with life interested her and did make her wonder about his seriousness in regard to getting married. His infatuation with Fanua had a touch of the adolescent about it but it was not Min's business to play the duenna - if that was the right word. (She thought with distaste of those self-appointed moral arbiters dotted among her mother's friends who proclaimed their certainties ex cathedra.)

It was difficult for Yushi to be oblique in his revelations and yet he was not able to be direct either. She watched him fiddle with his keys and glance at her occasionally. When he tried to describe the flurry in the village he shook his head slowly and sucked in his teeth. She was not sure how to interpret this mannerism so she trusted her instinct and asked him directly if he really wanted to get married. Her question nearly undid him and he shifted on the chair and laughed uneasily.

'Of course,' he said, still looking intently at his keys and Min realised that her blatant question had aroused a defensive reaction which effectively closed off the subject.

'Do you want to start our classes together again?'

He looked up directly at her and said an emphatic "Yes." His demeanour changed with the change of subject and they talked about concentrating on writing with grammar lessons arising from it. She was on the verge of asking if he wanted to learn the local language but thought better of it. Teachers were scarce anyway and it was not her concern. Instead she risked a return to the subject of the wedding and asked if his family would be coming from Japan.

'Perhaps sister - but it is hard for her to take holidays.'

'Look Yushi - if she can come, she would be very welcome to stay with me.'

This idea might smooth over her possible gaffe. He smiled for the first time and bowed in his chair. That would be very good because his sister would be nervous about travelling to an unknown country and he had already told her about his English teacher.

'My sister has studied English at school but not speak. Could be problem.'

'And I can't speak Japanese and haven't studied it at school either,' Min put on an apologetic face. 'English speakers just expect other people to speak their language I'm afraid.'

When Yushi had left Min sat for a while thinking about his apparent doubts. As far as she could surmise he and Fanua had not slept together, probably more from lack of opportunity than from moral constraints on his part. Perhaps his problem could be simplified if a preconnubial chamber could be arranged before the point of no return was reached.

'Oh stop conniving,' she told herself. 'Stick to your English knitting!'

She went to her worktable to start on her course outline for the first half of the year. The first year had gone very quickly and when she thought back to the same time a year ago she cringed and gave thanks - to whom, she did not know. This year she would keep a diary...

A knock on the door surprised her. When she saw Polly she was elated. Sometimes the right person appears at just the right time she told her as they hugged briefly.

'You look incredibly hale and hearty I must say,' said Min excitedly.

'You're not the first person to tell me that - so it must be true.' Min asked about Jim and was surprised to hear that he was back.

'He's looking worn out poor darling. He needs a holiday back here so we are thinking of going to the Big Island for a weekend. I thought you could advise us about the vagaries of the ferry.' Polly laughed knowingly.

'That's the point - vagaries, as you say, so all you can be is prepared for the unpredictable.'

When Min offered Polly a cup of coffee she suddenly rummaged in her shoulder bag.

'I forgot - Jim sent this coffee. He brought back one or two packets for friends.'

Min was fascinated by the pickle Polly had got herself into with the impromptu star project and was curious to know more about the friendship with Jupeli.

'I thought I was the only person who tied herself up in knots trying to spare someone's feelings.'

'I wonder if it's a female thing and we're too wimpish to speak our minds.'

Min said that she thought that in this case, the fact that it was Eturasi's younger brother added a twist.

'He's probably drawn the obvious conclusion. His brother is young and unattached and you're rather gorgeous.'

Polly said with or without irony \- Min wasn't sure. 'Yes - there is that. But Jupeli's triumphal guffaw at my little ruse irritated me. God - life's a series of pitfalls.'

Min said they needed something stronger than coffee to clear their heads.

'I'm missing Peter and our chats. He was good for me because he's perceptive and forthright. Sometimes you need a second opinion and I think Poll that you should lighten up and go ahead with the "star project''.' She made her little apostrophe signs in the air. 'I think you'll find the whole thing very interesting.'

Polly smiled weakly and after a short silence said 'I hope you're right.'

Min was on the verge of telling Polly about her idea for Yushi's nuptial initiation but thought better of it and they parted with discretion preserved.

## Chapter 47

Michael woke to the sound of his bedside radio playing a rich choral work. He tried to recapture his dream but it had escaped through some mysterious portal which was opened as his eyes took in the familiar bedroom scene. He was left with a feeling of displacement which was carried on by the sublime music reminiscent of elsewhere. He turned over and closed his eyes again to allow the music to fill his ears without the distraction of the pedestrian surroundings.

After the music finished he turned off the radio and lay on his back with his hands under his head. There had been no news from Australia for several months and his holiday had buoyed him up so his mood was good. He had tried to get in touch with Min to show her his holiday photos but she had been very busy with course outlines for the coming semester and she admitted that she had left them till the last minute. She and her friend Peter had spent as much time as possible driving to some of the remote villages where the night curfew descended like a shroud. The new car had given her a much appreciated freedom after the months of arduous walking.

When he rang again on the off chance Min was ready to down her tools with relief and she suggested they meet at the French café.

She arrived earlier than Michael and was greeted enthusiastically in French by Gerard who introduced her to his wife Yvonne. Min asked them what had brought them to one of the anglophone islands and how were they finding it. With a typical puff of his lips as he manipulated his shiny machine, Gerard said simply that he wanted a "changement" and that he spoke good English so why not? He turned around to mix the coffee and added that he hadn't expected to find the Eiffel Tower on the skyline.

'It's OK - not so English English. La Nouvelle Calédonie is very French as you know.' Yvonne's feelings were not made clear but she smiled politely. After he had put the coffee on the table by the window Gerard asked Min how to spell her name and said 'Man' with a question in his tone. She laughed and said it was a "soubriquet" and was pronounced 'Meen.'

'Ça se prononce sobriquet en français,' said Gerard and Yvonne frowned and said something in French which Min didn't catch.

At that moment Michael's car drove into the car park in front of the café and Min noticed that he didn't bother to lock it. He was carrying a small packet of photos which he waved at her from outside the window. She began to feel nervous and unsure whether to shake hands or give him a hug. Gerard was still standing beside the table so she put out her hand and Michael lent over to peck her on the cheek. She suddenly felt flustered and started unnecessary introductions only to be reminded that they had already met. They all three stood until Michael had ordered and Min sat down in relief with her chin on her clasped hands.

'Well - how was it?'

'Just what the doctor ordered,' he said and laughed. 'I don't usually take photos but I bought this disposable camera at the airport so I could record my surroundings.'

Min smiled as she recognised a place she had visited with her parents one Christmas and was interested in Michael's description of the cosmopolitan collection of people who had ended up in such an isolated place. Gerard came over with Michael's order and glanced at the photos.

'You speak French too, monsieur?'

'No - only Strine.' He needed to explain that it was a disparaging reference to the Australian accent and New Zild referred to the peculiarities of New Zealand English. Gerard nodded sagely with his lips jutting out but any further details were interrupted by Yvonne putting her head around the door at the back of the café and calling her husband. She smiled very briefly to acknowledge Michael but she was clearly worried. Gerard excused himself and Min continued with the photos.

They were artistic studies of various seabirds lit up on one flank by the setting sun and little cottages or shacks looking like children's drawings in their basic design. There were some inside shots of his house with its huge fireplace and a stack of wood alongside and Min said it made her nostalgic for cold weather. One photo showed a tall rangy man holding a fish with his face hidden by a large hat.

'He was an interesting bloke from Canada who seemed to subsist on fish and bits and pieces from his garden. I didn't find out anything else about him and he didn't ask me any questions. I decided it was a convention among loners and makes room for speculation.'

'Not unlike it is here, in a way,' said Min thoughtfully. 'How much do we know about our friends? Perhaps we've all got some deep secret locked away in our past.'

Min blushed as she said this and Michael tapped the photos on the table to put them back in their packet.

At that moment Gerard approached their table to tell them that their baby was "malade". She had gone very limp and was rolling her eyes in a most scary manner. He might have to close the café and find a doctor. Michael asked him if they had taken the baby's temperature and when he heard that they had no thermometer he said he had one in his car. Min asked how old the child was and whether she had had childhood inoculations. Gerard shrugged and said he didn't know but she was only fifteen months.

The child's temperature was raised only one degree so Michael said they should sponge her with a cool cloth and he handed Gerard some medicine which he had had in his car too.

'You are docteur, monsieur?'

Michael simply answered by giving him the address of one of his medical colleagues who also had a private practice in town.

'Keep the thermometer and take the temperature after you've cooled the child down.'

Gerard was very grateful and offered more coffee on the house. Min had to leave but she was going to keep in touch.

'Au revoir docteur,' she said with a smile. 'I love the photos - thanks.' And she gave a tiny toot and a wave as she drove away.

## Chapter 48

Jim waited till after six for Polly to come home for their evening meal and he was beginning to feel a worried vexation. She seemed less conscious of time these days and her apologies were half-hearted, but he was reluctant to voice his feelings that their relationship had been under some strain since his return. It was not easy to pinpoint any significant changes so he partly blamed himself and his worry about his mother. He was still feeling on edge as if there were a threat over the present even when he was thinking about something as mundane as food shopping. For him, the world had darkened and his path through it was more of a daily effort.

With less than an hour of daylight left he decided to go down to the beach and swim away his negative thoughts. As he neared the lagoon he felt his mood start to lift and by the time he entered the warm sea he was ready for its soothing embrace. He sensed freedom, being unobserved by the terrestrial world and his pettiness fell away. He turned on his back and looked into the crepuscular sky which very soon would be dotted with distant entities of which his world was only an infinitesimal part.

Darkness came on swiftly as he stood looking back at the glassy surface where the lights along the seafront now threw long reflections. How quickly the scene changed from day to night as if a cosmic switch had been flicked.

As he walked back along the road he noticed two people in front of him ambling in the same direction. In spite of the darkness he thought he recognised Polly's walking style, so he slowed down in an instinctive reaction to a possible situation he would rather not deal with. He turned off at the first opportunity and without any hesitation he entered a small unfamiliar café. He was unused to eating on his own so he bought takeaway noodles which he hoped to share with Polly when he got home. The lights were on in the house so he knew she must be there. Opening the wire door he announced himself in a jaunty voice but there was no response. Polly was in the bedroom and from the door he saw that she had been crying. He held out the paltry carton of food and asked her if she had eaten. Instead of replying she stared at him and bit her lower lip. Then she broke into tears and buried her face in the pillow. Jim stood still, uncertain. He was not used to seeing Polly in mute distress and it would be trite to ask her what the matter was. In the silence, he listened to her muffled sobs followed by long-held breaths.

Suddenly he wanted to hurl the carton which he was holding pathetically, across the room but instead he turned and went into the kitchen where he stowed it in the refrigerator. Holding the door handle he looked down at his feet and wondered what to do next. Polly's behaviour had aroused in him a resentful defence mechanism and he had the feeling that her tears were sourced beyond his influence. He went outside letting the wire door slap behind him and he lay on the stubbly grass to look up at the now glittering sky and recapture his earlier perspective. How long he lay there he was not sure because he became mesmerised by a display of shooting bodies flashing here and there like sparks.

The sound of a cupboard door opening brought him back to his present reality so he propped himself up on his elbow and called cautiously,

'Is that you Poll?'

Still she didn't answer so he went inside. Polly looked around at him from cutting bread at the bench, as if to check his identity and then carried on without conviction until he suggested that they have a glass of wine.

With a fresh onrush of tears she turned again and threw herself into his arms. Taken by surprise, he did not respond immediately but held her firmly until she stopped crying and looked at him. Her face looked distorted and unfamiliar. For the briefest of moments he told himself that she repulsed him and then her vulnerability brought out his protectiveness towards her. Still his feelings were confused and he felt as if they were being tested for the first time. No terms of endearment crossed his mind but when the paroxysm was over he conducted her to the sofa and gently sat her down. He went into the kitchen for some wine and glasses and as he poured it in front of her she said,

'Jim, I'm pregnant.'

'So what about the tears - are they for joy or misery?' He thought he knew the answer but he waited till she said,

'You must know the answer to that.'

He said that he wanted to hear it from her.

Her monologue followed a confused path of insecurity, loss of familiar structures, her attempt to appreciate the culture and to do what she thought was the right thing as she saw it. He was on the verge of asking if doing the right thing included getting pregnant but he held back the mean remark and waited to hear the most important information as far as he was concerned. It emerged more by implication of the drift of her narrative than by an explicit statement and he asked,

'Does Jupeli know?'

'No, of course not and I don't know what to do. I've thought of leaving the country but I don't want to go back to America.'

'Are you in love with him?'

'I'm attracted to him, but at the same time I love you Jim.'

Jim stared into his glass, looking perplexed. He did not want to get into the rescue business but this was not the time to say as much. He asked her if she had had the test and she nodded and said that she was about two months.

'Why don't you want to tell Jupeli - if that's who it is?' There was an edge to the afterthought.

Polly looked at him with shock.

'What are you suggesting?'

Jim mildly regretted his remark but didn't say anything. He noticed that she had not drunk any wine so he picked up her glass and drained it.

'Come on - let's get to bed and continue this talk tomorrow. You must be exhausted.'

Not long after they settled for the night, Polly went to sleep but Jim was unable to quieten his racing mind which churned endlessly until he heard a distant rooster crow. Some time later he woke and saw that Polly had gone and the sun was shining at full strength through the louvres. If it weren't so hot he'd pull the sheet over his head and try to sleep again but discomfort propelled him out of bed to make some coffee and face the day. His love of women was being tested and if it failed, so be it.

## Chapter 49

The new school year was soon under way and there were signs of the rain letting up. The grass in the college compound was knee high so for the first few days, classes were interrupted by groups of students having to do their share of machete bashing. It was an impressive sight to witness the apparently willing participation of young men and women in the rhythmic swing of tools under the hot sun. The results were soon evident in a tamed lushness around the open-sided classrooms. The staff met to discuss the year's programme and Min remembered her awful apprehension of the year before. She wondered how things would be in another year and how many of her new friends would still be around.

She was sitting in the staff room on her own after everyone had left and a voice said quietly, 'Knock, knock.'

She looked up and saw Jim standing in the open doorway, his arms full of market produce.

'Come in and sit down. Let's pretend you're a student worried about his course content this year.'

Jim smiled wryly. 'Funny you should say that. I do need some advice, teacher. I hope you don't mind.'

Min tried to carry on the jesting because she was not in the mood to take on other people's problems - especially when she was privy to both sides of the story. She leaned back and held both ends of her ballpoint pen as if to indicate evenhandedness. Jim was somewhat evasive but wanted to know if she had spoken to Polly lately.

'Yes - thanks for the coffee - sorry I forgot to mention it earlier. I hope your mother is making good progress.'

'Yeah - well - it's Polly I've got on my mind now. She seems to be very friendly with Jupeli. Has she told you about continuing with him?'

Min said she had heard about the star project but as she said it, it sounded ludicrous, she thought to herself. Jim made a small grimace and she knew that he thought the same.

'Frankly I think it's a pretext. What do you think Min? If you're honest.' Min put her pen down and leaned towards Jim. She said it was really not her business but she was sympathetic and the best she could say was to try and ride it out.

'Have you done anything about the trip to the Big Island?'

'What trip?'

Min repeated what Polly had told her and Jim was surprised.

'When did she say that?'

'When she brought round the coffee.'

'Oh.' Jim deflated slightly. It had been before she had got the test results, he realised. Min might not be aware of the pregnancy so "he would leave it to Polly to divulge that development if she chose to. Min changed the subject and mentioned the wedding of the year but Jim wasn't too interested. She was about to reveal her devilish scheme for the affianced but once more thought better of it. Jim was probably not in the mood to see the romantic side of human relations.

When Jim had left, Min finished the class rolls she had offered to copy out and went to Gerard's cafe to find out how the little girl was. Michael's car was outside and he was talking to Yvonne who waved to Min as she entered. The baby was fine now and it was a case of the teeth "piercing". Gerard had taken her in the car when he went to the market so she could not demonstrate in this moment. Min revelled silently in the quaint English.

'Yvonne wants to find an English tutor and in you walk,' said Michael who had also come to check on the baby.

The two women arranged to meet at the hotel pool and work out a time suitable to them both.

'I find docteur and teacheur togezzer,' Yvonne laughed showing her perfect teeth as she turned to prepare two cups of coffee. They sat down and Min said she was on her way home but coffee would be nice.

As the coffee machine hissed and gurgled, Michael told Min that Yvonne had asked him if she was his girlfriend. Min let her head droop in a gesture of amusement but also to hide a flush spreading over her face. When she looked up Michael said how such simple conventionality irritated him but he did feel as if they'd known each other a very long time.

'I denied it thrice,' he said. 'Anyway I can't stand the word "girlfriend."'.

'Perhaps one of my migrating forbears met one of yours for a one-night stand and we're long-lost cousins!'

'It's not impossible.' Michael looked almost serious.

'I admit that my great grandparents passed through Oz on their way to our enlightened shores. There was the small matter of gold.'

Michael passed his hand over his face and Min sensed his need to unburden himself. What is it about me that invites confidences? I'm beginning to feel like a sodden sponge. Do I look prurient or something? Is this how a priest feels at times after being privy to endless confessions? Min propped up her face and looked at Michael. He took a deep breath. He began to talk about the contingent nature of his life which prevented him from settling in to his job. He told her about his marriage which was still extant, but dead to all intents and purposes on account of a total divergence of values between him and his Catholic wife.

'She's a dyed in the wool Aussie Catholic and of course doesn't believe in divorce. Some semantic jiggery pokery appeal to the papal office of annulment is her only hope. You can imagine how I feel about that.' He bit his lip and slowly shook his head. Min was silent.

'I want to tell you this Min because I need someone to know but I hope it isn't presuming too much of your belief system.'

'I'm between belief systems at the moment as you'll have twigged. I've thrown away the crutch of dodgy dogma but I can still have a sneaking appreciation of men in drag and soaring choirs in a gothic theatre.'

'How do you feel about mercy killing?' The starkness of the question put paid again to an attempt at jokiness. She said she hadn't really had much occasion to think about it - not like abortion which most people confronted earlier in life.

Michael swallowed noisily. He was finding it difficult to find the words for an event which he had not confronted like this for months. Min put her hand on his which was twirling a teaspoon on the table.

'How about we go somewhere else? I'll settle with Yvonne and I'll join you in your car in a moment.'

Yvonne remonstrated about the payment so Min played a trump card.

'You can pay me for an English lesson,' she smiled and the deal was done. When Min joined Michael in his car in front of the café she said,

'I wonder what she'll tell Gerard when he gets back. I'll have to explain the expression "just good friends".'

## Chapter 50

The very next day Michael received from home a thick white envelope containing a letter from his lawyer informing him that he was to appear before the medical council in six weeks' time. He felt his heart speed up. After his talk to Min in the car during which he had explained his situation, he had felt some relief and her moral support had been welcome. As he thought she might, she was able to understand his motives in the administering of a lethal dose of morphine to his dying tormented and dearly-loved aunt. How much easier it would have been to follow the dictat of the state instead of choosing a personal imperative. He agreed with Min that society had to protect itself by moving slowly in a consensus rather than allowing free spirits to take the law of life and death into their own hands, no matter how passionately they held their beliefs. However when all palliative measures had failed and you were witness to the intolerable suffering of someone you loved, abstract sanctions lost their meaning. Min was moved to tears by the reality Michael had faced.

With these furies pursuing him he had sometimes found it difficult to find the energy needed to do his job. Moreover, there were the constant frustrations of nothing running smoothly and now he was going to feel as if he were marking time until his return to Australia. As far as he knew his superiors at the hospital were unaware of the history which had sent him among them. He sometimes wondered about the grapevine coming into play at the many conferences which he avoided. No doubt the facts would eventually come out and he didn't really care; he knew there were colleagues who would sympathise, if not overtly support him. Of course the strictly God-fearing would ostracise him but perhaps doubters would emerge even in this theocratic nation.

When he arrived at the hospital mid morning he was immediately greeted by one of the junior doctors who was upset by some contamination which had occurred in the customs department. A container of equipment from overseas had been opened and the sterile seal had been broken. He asked why the officers might have done that and she said that they were probably looking for illicit drugs. He would speak to the comptroller. In future it would be better to open all equipment at the hospital with one of the officers present.

Michael was full of admiration for these young graduates who returned home to work in what were less than ideal conditions when there were plenty of job opportunities elsewhere. For a moment he was inspired by being able to work with this young woman and he hoped he could come back and offer his services in a fully medical role.

The moment was interrupted by the arrival of a coffin from the workshop opposite the hospital and Michael observed drily that this side of the business worked very smoothly. The young woman smiled and said it was for poor Mr Fillipi whose kidneys had finally failed.

'I wish we had dialysis equipment here instead of sending the lucky ones to Australia and New Zealand,' she said and Michael made a mental note to try and help if he ever solved his own problem.

That evening he had a call from Dinah who sounded very chipper. (Not that she isn't always, he thinks ruefully.)There were the usual pleasantries followed by the announcement that she had almost talked Robert into moving to Queensland with her.

'How difficult was that?'

'Now now - none of that nasty state rivalry. Queensland has all the merits of this shangri-la but with skyscrapers. Anyhow he'll be going back to New Zealand for a while to sort things out and stay with his mother. She'll probably visit us there whereas she has refused to come here for some reason. We won't tell her about the snakes and cane toads.'

Dinah wanted to have a farewell get together and Michael told her he would be leaving for Melbourne in a few weeks.

'For how long?'

'Not sure. I have some things to sort out too. It's only just been decided and I was going to call you.' They made a tentative date and Dinah said she'd contact everyone and a few extras.

The next day Michael met Semese leaving the hospital just as he was arriving and he told him about the possibility of a party but was careful not to mention his leaving because he was on his way to see the superintendent. She must know first; she would receive the news with resigned equanimity because staffing was a chronic headache and perhaps God would provide. Even so, Michael was not happy breaking the news at quite short notice and with an indefinite time scale. How much the superintendent knew of his background he never enquired and he was grateful for the discretion afforded him as an outsider. It had not been difficult to slip into his paramedic role although he sometimes worried about a loss of skills if he ever wanted to practise medicine again.

He left the hospital soon after his chat with the superintendent who had expressed resigned regret and he drove to the part of the lagoon where he could descend to another world whose inhabitants, decked out in their multi-coloured finery, darted and swarmed with astonishing finesse. Transformed into a risibly clumsy undersea creature he glided around as the fish swooped and divided like giant punctuation marks in fluid form. Painted in the colours of the group they followed an ordained pattern which of its nature demanded conformity. This was unanimous genius in motion where the individual component was subsumed into the group. This stunningly beautiful world naturally secluded from the terrestrial scene by human lungs he had first encountered during a holiday with his wife on the Great Barrier reef. He had tried to convince her to join him in the submarine world but she refused to clutter herself with the equipment which made it possible. He remembered wanting to share the experience and feeling disappointed by her nervous reaction which may have been the beginning of divergence in their interests.

The silence and the colour had stopped the clock and when he clambered back into the shallows he had no idea of the time and needed to remind himself of what he had to do back in his own medium. He would answer the letter confirming his attendance at the medical council meeting before applying for unpaid leave from the hospital board. He should try one more time to contact his wife to let her know that he would be in Australia within a few weeks.

'Well well - look who's here!'

Michael, sodden and preoccupied wasn't able to react at first. Without his glasses he wasn't used to scanning faces. As he got closer he recognised Jim and guffawed amiably.

'Blind as a bat without my specs.' Jim asked why he didn't have a prescription mask.

'I manage.'

As he dried his legs and Jim put on his wet suit they chatted about the effect of becoming semi-weightless in a world of balletic perfection.

Michael watched while Jim waded over the coral and waved as he did a back flip into the water.

Elation slowly became sadness as Michael turned to leave the lagoon area.

## Chapter 51

The party at Michael's place had been a quiet affair with the unspoken regret that friends were starting to break up the circle. He would miss the wedding and he told Yushi that he had been looking forward to the experience of a ceremony Polynesian style. Yushi said he had not much idea of how it would be either.

Michael asked people to help themselves to the left-over food as they were leaving and he suggested quietly to Min that she stay until last, because he didn't want everything to be over all of a sudden. She kept thinking as she watched him making sure that everyone was watered and fed, what a different person he now appeared to her from the one she had met over a year ago at Polly and Jim's. Then he seemed not to have a care in the world and even his name had changed.

He looked at the bottle of Benedictine liqueur to see if there was any left.

'Let's finish this off - I can't take it with me.'

'God - that sounds like an excerpt from a sermon.'

'We listened to enough of them to have our discourse affected by them - don't you reckon?'

'Yup yup.' Min's eyes shone. 'Oh Michael! - isn't it amazing to share the same weird language and cock and bull stories?'

They sipped in unison and smiled across the spartan room.

'Will you miss all this?' Min waved her hand over the room, feeling mellow.

'All this and more.' He got up and walked across the room to take Min's hand.

'Let's go to the bedroom - it's more comfortable.' Michael sprawled full length and patted space beside him but Min perched cross-legged on the end of the bed clasping her glass with both hands.

'Noli me tangere,' he said mysteriously and Min looked at him quizzically.

'What are you referring to?' she said archly. 'Sounds like a sexually transmitted disease.'

He sat up and put his glass on the table and then took Min's from her. He put his arms around her in a strong hug.

'Ouch - my knees.'

'Lie down then and relax. That cross-legged position is very uncomfortable.'

They lay like 'gisants' recumbent on a tomb and both burst out laughing. Min made a grab for the last of her liqueur and leaned over to give Michael his. He lifted his head and opened his mouth so she could pour the viscous dregs on to his tongue.

'Hic est enim something or other.' She lay back and shrieked at the blasphemy and Michael propped himself up to study her. He stroked her cheek until she stopped laughing and then leant over and kissed her.

'Is there a middle point between flippancy and seriousness Min E Ha Ha?' Min admitted that he had made a very good point and she would like to be more level-headed.

'But for me life's usually either absurd or distressing and it depends on your mood which way you deal with it. Since I've been here it's been a serious business, I must say.'

Michael made no response and Min wondered if her remark had been facile and even tactless.

'Sorry Michael.' She took his hand. 'I can hardly imagine what you're facing and what you've been through. Will you have support when you get back to Melbourne?'

He said that he had one friend who might try and help but he had lost touch with most of his contemporaries from school and university. In fact the person he had felt closest to in later years apart from his wife, had been his aunt who had become a good mate when they moved to the same country town. She was his father's oldest sister who was unmarried and who had often stayed with them when they were children. She was always great fun, he remembered.

And she played the famous piano.

Then he and his wife saw a lot of her while they were getting their general practice experience after graduation.

'However, Helen my wife was keen to go back to the city after three years but we kept in touch with Eleanor and then I heard that she'd been diagnosed with cancer. She came to Melbourne for the usual treatment and she was eventually well enough to go home and resume her gardening business. We often went to see her for a weekend after that and then one day she told me that the doctor suspected that the disease had spread to her liver.

'She asked me on the quiet if I would help her if the suffering became intolerable and she didn't want it to be prolonged to an inevitable end. I was shocked at first and told her that it would be considered a crime even if I could reconcile the act with my personal ethics. But I explained that it was unknown territory for me at this point in my medical experience; at the same time I was wishing that she hadn't put me in such a situation.'

Michael stared at the ceiling and Min said quietly that perhaps he should not relive the painful experience. He turned to her and said almost angrily,

'I know now that doctors are often in this situation and they apply the "principle of double effect" which means they administer drugs to alleviate pain but which they know can shorten the life of the patient. It's a question of a very humane response to what is pointless anguish which has no redemptive features unless you're a religious zealot. I was young and still forging my own philosophy of life after the certainties of the church had become irrelevant for me. Helen on the other hand, was still as convinced as ever of the church's infallibility and my action shocked her to the core.'

Min asked Michael to promise to stay in touch and could she go to Australia if he needed her. He agreed to keep her posted and they would meet up again once this business was over. It was true that his life had been on hold for too long and who knew what lay ahead for them both. Finally when he noticed that Min had fallen asleep he put the sheet over them both and turned on his side to try and sleep too. But confronting so clearly the narrative he'd tried to put in the back of his mind he remained wide awake, so he got up very quietly and went to the kitchen to make a hot drink. He wrote a note to Min to let her know that he'd gone to the hospital to write up his log book and tidy his papers in the silence of the sleeping hospital.

In the early morning when she woke and read the note, she tidied the rooms where they had partied and washed the dishes before going home to shower and go to school. Throughout that day she kept referring to Michael's path ahead and it put any small problems which she met into perspective. It was a sort of privilege to carry the knowledge with her and she felt as close as she had for a very long time to praying for a merciful outcome.

## Chapter 52

'Sorry I'm late,' called Dinah. 'I was waiting for Rob because he wanted to come.'

Michael put his two bags into the back of the van and climbed in beside her.

'I was still cleaning up till about five minutes ago. I've written a contact address for you and I'll put the envelope in here - in case you need it.' He leaned over to open the glove box and then lay back against the headrest.

'How are you feeling?' Dinah gave him a quick glance. 'Looking forward to the bright lights and all those well-heeled go-getters?' He blew a little puff of denial which was all the remark called for.

He stared out at the overpowering vegetation and the small children running around in the villages; nostalgia for the static beauty of this place was inevitable and would throw the bustling city and its temperamental weather into perspective. Whether he came back or not was in the lap of the gods but if he did he would not be treading water and his life would be able to take shape, unshadowed.

Dinah was talking about their plans and the process of getting their exit visas.

'Has that been a problem for you?'

Michael switched on at the word problem and wondered what she meant. His mind had not grasped her context. He said simply 'No' - hoping it was the right answer.

They reached the village where Min was on one of her supervision sessions and Dinah asked him if he wanted to stop to say goodbye but he said they had had a last cup of coffee at Gerard's café the previous night. She had given him the address of her parents in New Zealand and he had given her the same one he'd given Dinah.

When they parked the van Dinah was surprised to see Robert's work pickup there. While Michael was checking in Dinah disappeared for a moment and Robert appeared. When she came back she was holding a tiny parcel which Michael unwrapped to find a plaited necklace with a tiny carved wooden turtle threaded on to it.

'A lucky charm,' she said and she gave him a peck on his cheek.

'Just the thing in the Lucky Country,' smirked Robert touching on one of his favourite topics.

Saying goodbye was more of a wrench than Michael had expected and Dinah had tears in her eyes as she gave him a final clap on the back with, 'See ya mate,' to cover her emotion.

'Ditto,' said Robert, giving him a brief handshake which verged on the painful. He walked past several knots of weeping relatives, gave a final salute and went into the waiting area to sit down. He had a jab of envy as he looked at the teary travellers mopping their eyes.

As the plane's nose lifted and rose above the plantations beside the runway a small involuntary convulsion in his throat released the built-up tension. The village school then the town dwindled into miniatures until the aircraft entered a very white cloud which obliterated everything. When it emerged from the cumulus, they were high over the reef where the Pacific collided and boiled as if against a rampart. The steady climb to the flight zenith slowly ironed out the swells and the sea became tamed and remote.

As the present became the past and he felt suspended in time and space Michael reflected on his friendships. Semese would surface somewhere he hoped, when they would be on an even footing professionally. Polly and Jim could go anywhere now that they had cracked the cultural shell and found another world. Robert and Dinah might both wind up in the tropical north of Australia but he had his doubts about Robert permanently committed to hedonism. Then there was Min - his soul mate, tortured on the same rack and trying to hide the congealed scars. As if to balance his confidences she had finally told him about the accident which had killed her husband and her bitterness in relation to her mother who construed the event as God's will. Their relationship still had a cerebral course to run but one day they might be ready to consummate it once they learned to practise the art of "joie de vivre". He smiled and closed his eyes. The drone of the engines pulsed on and off in his ears until there was silence.

Min heard the plane overhead just as she was walking around the desks looking at the children's neat work. Their handwriting and presentation were remarkable. However the substance left much to be desired and she felt the weight of responsibility for widening their horizons before the shallow gee-wizardry of American television moved in to capture hearts and minds.

'You can't make the world according to your vision,' she said to herself and she let her mind turn to her friendship with Michael who was now high over the Pacific. She would miss him and their shared experiences. She wished him well and that they would resume the relationship when his problem had been solved.

Her small study at some distance from the classrooms was cluttered with students' assignments and a colony of tiny geckoes. Their knowing little eyes darted about while their splayed hands carried them with lightning speed to total immobility in seconds. Min found them endearingly comical in spite of their indiscriminate depositing of faecal matter on her notes and folders.

Outside the louvres was a silent stillness peculiar to a school vacated by its human population. The loud colours of the plants always made her think about confidence in her function as a teacher. There had been times when she suffered from the imposter syndrome which she identified as knowing what you don't know. But in this environment she was less inclined to bouts of self doubt because she was surrounded by what appeared to her to be people convinced of their role and the blowsy confidence of nature.

The heat paralysed her to the point where she wanted to sit at her desk and cogitate or lie on the floor mat and sleep. She thought about the astringent quality of winter and craved the infusion of energy she was afforded by a crisp clear winter day in her home town. There were those at home who dreamed of tropical beaches and bright shimmering water, forgetting that for most of the population in such places work must be done and the lazy indulgence of the tourist was not a reality.

'I saw your car and thought you must be still here. Your husband will want his meal I think.' Min started slightly at the sudden appearance of the headmaster.

'Yes - I've been dreaming. That's what the heat does to me.'

'How old is your husband?'

'As old as his tongue and a little older than his teeth.'

The headmaster who was a large man with particularly strong teeth himself, looked mystified. He stared at Min and waited for an explanation which she withheld, thinking furiously how to deflect his curiosity.

'Where does your husband work?'

In this small society there was nowhere to hide or scope for untruths. Min felt trapped.

'I'm glad you called in because there is something I need to ask you about.' She joined her hands under her chin and looked thoughtful.

'Do you believe in corporal punishment in the classroom?'

'Why do you ask?'

Min, feeling rescued from her private revelations, went on to discuss the new policy of no corporal punishment by the students currently in training. To her relief the headmaster became voluble in defence of the stick and told her that he was not interested in "these American ideas". As he got up to go he asked Min for a ride to town. The subject was closed.

## Chapter 53

Yushi and Fanua's wedding day started like any Sunday in the village. The young men got up at first light to prepare the earth ovens and scrape the coconuts. The women were up early to prepare vegetables and salads for the fifty or so guests who were expected.

Fanua's sisters were the handmaidens in the traditional sense. They would supervise her dressing and do her hair which she wanted in thick loops. Then they would do each other's.

The church had been swept the day before and huge bowls of flowers and garlands of colourful foliage had been placed in every available space. Some regular spraying would maintain their crisp beauty.

Yushi had slept very little in spite of a generous tot of whisky before bedtime. Early in the evening he had gone with Min in her car to meet his sister at the airport after her two-day journey. Min had offered him the use of her car so he could greet Noriko on his own but he was too excited to go alone, he said. He kept telling Min that he was so pleased that his sister was coming and that she was staying at Min's house, conferring on her a semi-maternal role, she thought to herself.

When he woke in the house he had rented in the township the sun was already so hot that he was glad that his sister had brought him a light grey suit which she had hired from the same place as he would have hired the heavy black formal gear for a wedding at home. He got up and took his usual cold shower before spraying himself with some perfume which Noriko had brought. When he looked in the mirror and saw his thick black hair he wondered if he should have had it cut. It hadn't occurred to him until now and it wasn't Fanua's way to try and organise his personal agenda. That pleased him. He peered at himself and bared his teeth, feeling satisfied with what he saw.

Before making a phone call to Noriko he went to the tiny shrine which he had put up in his room to establish a personal space in his new quarters. This was a very significant day in his life and such gestures reassured him that the auguries would be good so far from home.

Min and Noriko drove to the house and they all had a short whisky to fortify themselves. Min had a feeling of outsider solidarity with her companions but she urged them to speak their own language when they, out of politeness, began to speak English. She was interested to observe a different Yushi, comfortable in communication with his sister after a prolonged deprivation of the familiar. Noriko was slight and delicate with proportioned features and a soft lisp in her speech. She was three years older than her brother and Min thought she detected a hint of protectiveness towards him. Yushi sensitive, looked at Min apologetically from time to time and she reassured him that it was a pleasure to listen to their euphonious though unintelligible language. (She remembered how a friend had once told her that her first desire to learn English came from listening to its sounds without understanding.)

It was eventually time to drive to Yushi's old flat to pick up his friends who were to be his attendants. Then their arrival in the village was greeted by young family members announcing gleefully that Fanua was hiding. Her parents Naomi and Filipe came towards the car to welcome them. Filipe led Yushi and his party to the church where they were overwhelmed by the fragrance and colour of the decorations. Noriko smiled at Min to show her pleasure while Min worried that she Noriko, might fall asleep from sensory overload and lack of rest. She decided to keep a close eye on her.

The church slowly filled up and Dinah and Robert came to sit beside Min and Noriko. Min introduced them and to Min's surprise Dinah spoke Japanese. A woman for all seasons, thought Min. There was no sign of Polly and Jim before the harmonium burst into the bridal march and the congregation looked around to see Fanua in her white finery. From that brief glance Min was reminded of the Lady Diana about to sail voluminously down the aisle of Westminster Abbey.

'So theatrical,' she thought to herself, 'and not for me.'

The vows were exchanged and Min strained her ears to hear Yushi's carefully rehearsed words. Dinah nudged her for no apparent reason but told her later that it sounded as if he were taking Fanua for his woeful wife. The congregation soon raised their voices in enthusiastic hymn- singing and the harmonium went into percussion mode which caused Dinah to nudge Min again. Min didn't know the words to the hymns but a kindly soul behind her passed over a book which she shared with Dinah to forestall further nudges.

The bride and groom knelt in the altar space and the pastor prayed at length first in the local language and then in English. Min went into her head space and reflected how human beings appoint another being like themselves to take on the shamanic role of intermediary between man and god. It was an easy solution to the natural desire for solemnity and ritual and there seemed to be no shortage of candidates for the role. Having been reared on ritual, Min now found it all faintly ludicrous. She longed for the next bout of singing whose lusty sincerity never failed to make her spine tingle.

Outside the church were people taking photographs and after the family groups had been assembled and then dispersed, Yushi summoned his expatriate friends along with the group of white-clad children who had managed to star in every picture so far.

Finally the party began to walk back along the road to a large fale where food was laid out and being fanned by some smiling young boys. A pig strode in front of the wedding party and Min wondered if it was a sign of good luck.

'It would be if it flew,' said Robert.

'I think it's a sign of a good meal sooner or later,' said Dinah who turned to Noriko to translate.

'Pig is important in village?' asked Noriko and Min said,

'Very. That's why it's walking in front.'

Robert thought it had got a whiff of a relative being burnt at the stake for the delectation of the wedding guests.

## Chapter 54

'I wonder where Polly and Jim have got to.'

'Maybe they got the day wrong.'

Dinah said she had spoken to Polly at the market the previous week and they had talked about the coming event and what they would wear.

'I hope nothing's wrong.'

'If so, it must have been a last minute thing.' Min felt concern for them both and recalled Jim's conversation with her when he showed little enthusiasm for the occasion.

Yushi had come over to get Noriko to meet his parents-in-law and Min watched the interaction with fascination. Noriko looked so tiny alongside the large figures of Fanua's parents who were elders in their village and whose stature matched their status. Noriko bowed several times and Yushi looked proud to have his sister beside him. Her delicacy enchanted Min who always felt ungainly beside Asian women. Whenever Min looked at Noriko to check her stamina she was smiling, as if she had stepped into another dimension and was captivated by everything she saw. Even the scrawny hens pecking around the guests' feet and occasionally on a table, had made her laugh without understanding Robert's comment about their position in the pecking order. When Dinah tried to translate his witticism, she asked Dinah where she had learned Japanese and was told that she had spent half a year as an exchange student in Kyoto and had had a wonderful time.

'I want to go back one day,' she said dreamily.

Noriko was asked to take a seat near Yushi and Fanua while the speeches were made and toasts were drunk. Yushi was handed a knife to cut the cake but before doing so he brandished it like a samurai sword causing amusement among the guests and a small mock frown from his sister. Naomi went to a nearby fale where several fine mats were waiting to be presented to the couple and Yushi after several appreciative bows, explained the significance of these objects to his sister. They would be part of their family's inheritance and were to be prized as such and used as gifts in similar special circumstances.

When darkness fell with its sudden swiftness, the area was transformed into a fairy-lit dancing space while a number of guitars and traditional log drums appeared, encouraging everybody to dance. Min walked over to chat to the bridal pair while Noriko turned her attention to some little girls who had been gazing at her with great interest. One piped up the classic salutation for foreigners -bye bye- and Noriko waved her hand saying "sayonara" which they mimicked. Min told her that they might be saying it in several years' time because words uttered by foreigners often became part of a village vocabulary with its origin forgotten. She omitted to add that some of those words were regrettable.

Before Yushi and Fanua left to go back to town, they discussed the next day's programme with Noriko including the arrangements for flying to New Zealand. Dinah was to pick them in the afternoon and take them to the airport.

The next morning Min had an early class so she was careful not to disturb Noriko hoping that she would wake in time to pack. She wrote a bon voyage note and left it on the table and told her to help herself to food in the refrigerator.

After class Min went to Polly and Jim's place to find out what had happened to make them miss the wedding. There was no answer to her knock, but as she was getting back into her car one of the neighbours came over to speak to her and to tell her that they had gone to the hospital. That was all she knew as they had not come back. Min wondered if she should go to the hospital to enquire about them but she decided to go home and wait till the evening when she would phone the house or the hospital. Her over active mind suggested all sorts of reasons for the situation, most of which she knew were unlikely. She chose a miscarriage as the most likely explanation even though neither had mentioned a pregnancy.

When at last she got a reply to her phone call Jim confirmed that Polly had had a miscarriage and had to stay for another night in the hospital for close observation.

'We missed you at the wedding and I was worried about you. You seemed so down when we last spoke.'

'Yeah - well - we had too much on our minds as it happened and Polly is very upset about everything. Things haven't been going too well since I got back from the States.'

'Can I help?'

'Could you pick Polly up from the hospital tomorrow?'

Min was glad to be able to do that as she had only morning classes and Jim would let her know what time and he would come with her.

When Min arrived at the college the next day the other staff were discussing an article which had appeared in the weekly newspaper the day before. As soon as she came into the staff room there was a hush and some meaningful glances exchanged. The paper was lying on the table and she saw the headline and guessed what they had been talking about.

She was in no mood to be the butt of a generalisation so she found herself speaking on behalf of her friends with some passion.

"Volunteer Labour in Developing Countries - a Doubtful Blessing", opined the headline under the pseudonym "Patriot".

Her colleagues looked embarrassed and one of them folded the paper and said that the article did not reflect a general opinion. Min however to their surprise, said she was glad the notion was out in the open because she had heard hints of resentment about the quality of volunteer labour and it needed to be discussed. The principal said that the writer was obviously not in the field of education and trying to fill staff vacancies and Min smiled at her saying that it was to be hoped she wasn't forced as the article implied, to take people who were rejected by their own society.

'We volunteers all have our own reasons for offering our services but I can honestly say that none of my friends would be unemployable at home. That's not to say that unsuitable people don't slip through the net.'

Min realised that she had been standing while the others were sitting and that was very bad form. So she sat down suddenly and took a very deep breath. A moment of silence was broken by a hand clap by one of the male teachers and she said, 'I'm sorry. I didn't mean to preach.' There was a general relaxation and some laughter while the principal said 'It's time to man the barricades everybody,' and the tension was completely dissipated.

'This is the last thing Polly and Jim will want to hear,' thought Min as she gathered up her books.

## Chapter 55

After her last class the principal handed Min a letter in her mother's handwriting and she felt her heart bound. Letters from her mother were rare and Min suspected that she wanted to write things which she couldn't say on the telephone.

She waited until she got home before she opened it and as if to forestall her foreboding, there on the dining table was an exquisitely wrapped gift. Her mood changed suddenly and she felt like a kid on a birthday. First a letter and now a present. She sat down and held them both, unsure which one to open first. She always hesitated before opening a beautifully wrapped gift and when she did she deconstructed it in a gingerly way to prolong the pleasure. She would read her mother's letter and let the gift console her if necessary.

'Dear Winefride,' it began, with a chilling note of formality.

'It is difficult for me to write this letter because my conscience dictates that I explain myself to you whom I love deeply but do not pretend to understand. There are things which I want you to know in case something happens to me and such matters have been left unsaid. You will probably never know (if you are not blessed with a child of your own) how I thanked God when I knew He had blessed me with a child and I dedicated you to Him from that moment. Thus I hoped and prayed that you would become a nun and by offering yourself as a virgin in God's service would fulfill one of our dearest wishes. Yes - your father has always shared my ambition even if his intentions have been less clear.

'But our hopes were dashed when we discovered that you were living IN SIN with a man. Worse still - he did not share our faith and it seemed as if you were prepared to squander that priceless gift - that Pearl of Great Price - for earthly pleasures.

While you have been away and I am sure doing good work, I have agonised about your immortal soul (I feel partly responsible for its existence) and I have prayed for you and your return to the Church. The death of your friend (I would normally say RIP and 'husband' - but that would be hypocritical of me) has given you another chance to be reconciled with God and His Church...'

Min began to shake with dry sobs and she threw the letter on the floor. Her mind was jammed with emotions of fury, persecution and hatred. She convulsed with physical and intellectual pain and was unable to summon to mind the rationale which had sustained her over the past few years. Her anger was now against this system which had created such damage and inevitable distress in a person, the fabric of whose life was knotted with misconceptions, obscurantist notions and distortions. Her poor mother! When her body and mind stopped struggling chaotically and she was able to breathe deeply to alleviate the shock, she was filled with pity for her mother and all those like her who were locked in a straitjacket of sin, guilt and fear. She was sure her father's drinking was a shield against all that and she felt compassion for them both for the first time.

She had forgotten the gift lying innocently on the table and went to her bedroom to lie down and practise the deep breathing which had helped her in the past.

She found herself in a dark place among a crowd of people who were dressed in sackcloth and shouting something unintelligible. The darkness was created by a huge cathedral which blocked out all natural light and from which came chanting and the sound of bass drums. After a while it became clear that the horde of people carrying lighted candles was moving slowly to pass a catafalque on the steps of the cathedral. When each group reached this object they raised their fists and uttered unintelligible words. She wrapped her arms around her head to protect herself from the clamour and fell down.

The sensation of the fall woke her up with a start and she felt a great relief to be where she was. She remembered Noriko's gift and eventually got up to open it. She read the card which was written in perfect English thanking her for her hospitality and then she carefully undid the package which was a cream silk blouse with fine tucks in the front and back. It really was charming and Min wondered when she would dare wear such a delicate garment. Perhaps when Noriko came back briefly from New Zealand the following week...

She picked her mother's letter up from the floor and took up where she had left off. Her strong reaction to the first part and the subsequent cathartic dream had calmed her and she now felt a sympathetic detachment as if she were a clinician reading the aberrant ramblings of a tortured soul. The letter went on to say that her mother was not feeling well and wondered if Min could come home for a visit. That proposition tested her new-found understanding and she knew that she would need to let it bed in before she put herself through the fire of vicarious religious fervour. At least she could pick up the telephone and ring home and see how she coped.

The following day, when she and Jim collected Polly from the hospital, to her surprise Jim had a copy of the newspaper with the article which Min hoped Polly would not see at this particular time. To distract her, Min started on a hyped-up account of the wedding but in spite of that Polly seemed more interested in the article which Jim read out when they got home. They were both heated in their reaction and their dismissal of its thesis. Min played it down and told them about her discussion in the staffroom, but Polly was adamant.

'It's the last straw,' she said, 'I'm outta here.'

Jim looked at Min for more palliative words but she wasn't prepared to go any further. She too had felt indignant but as so often happens another person's overreaction provokes a mild defence to allay it. Polly reminded Min of how disturbed she had felt when her brother-in-law had talked about her so-called neo-colonialist agenda, and she took the point. However she also reminded Polly that the principal had laid that ghost and again this time, her opinion was more valid than the armchair critic's.

'Her support, along with the hard slog put in by the students whose lives are often a struggle trying to balance family responsibilities, helps me to stay focused. So poof to Patriot and all his - or her - works and pomps. But,' she added, 'I can understand how you must feel when you have been so willing to try and get to grips with this culture. I'd feel the same in your shoes I know.' Min smiled at Polly who smiled back for the first time.

'To hell with cross-cultural efforts,' pronounced Jim firmly. 'Let's get stuck into the bourbon.'

'Yeah,' said Polly in a change of mood. 'I'm my own boss again at least.' Min turned the conversation to the state of Polly's health. She brushed aside any probing by saying that she felt purged and needed time to come to terms with what was indeed a shock. Jim was very quiet and meditatively sipped his drink so Min changed the subject back to the wedding and described the gift Noriko had left for her. She also took it upon herself to describe Yushi's sister and her enthusiastic interest in everything.

'She won't be here long enough for the novelty to wear off,' Jim said quietly, looking through his raised glass with one eye closed.

## Chapter 56

His arrival in Australia aroused in Michael mixed feelings of familiarity, strangeness and apprehension. The accents all around him at the airport reminded him that he was an exile and he found himself longing for the rich vegetation and general languor which he had left. Now he must face his past and hope that he could return without the sword of Damocles over his head.

He spent the first night in a backpackers' hostel on the limits of the city before travelling into the central district where his lawyer had commodious rooms. The first night furnished him with another dream concocted from the medley of his life. He could not remember any of his other dreams since the visitation of the constabulary to his old home. He was working in his aunt's garden while she lay on her chaise-longue on the verandah where wisteria festooned the iron tracery. She was smiling indulgently as she watched him work. In due course he stood up to take a break and wipe the sweat from his face and saw that her chair was empty. He was startled at first but then he thought she might be making a cup of tea. He went into the house calling her name but there was no sign of her. Instead several strangers were sitting around a table strewn with documents which they were studying. They turned to look at him with what he recognised as animosity, so he apologised and withdrew. The crash of cutlery woke him and it was daylight. Other hostellers were preparing their breakfast in the common kitchen but he lay awake, thinking about the dream and its significance. The brief meeting with his aunt was both consoling and traumatic while he wondered at the power of the subconscious mind to record and retain our meaningful experiences.

The lawyer was unable to offer positive encouragement for the short term. The disciplinary body had a job to do within the current laws on mercy killing and because he had not tried to cover his action with a plea for motives of pain relief, he did risk losing his licence to practise medicine. His only hope was to plead inexperience; he had believed in his power to find solutions and the moral imperative which he followed boiled down to that. Michael asked the lawyer about the situation with his marriage.

'Not a lot of good news there. I have a letter from your wife's lawyer stating that there is no question of divorce, given her religious convictions.'

'Maybe it'll have to go to Rome. They seem to be able to find grounds for annulment in most cases.'

The lawyer pursed his lips. 'Is it important to you?'

'No - as it happens. I have no plans to remarry and a de facto relationship wouldn't worry me. Leaving your comfort zone puts a lot of things into perspective. I meant that my wife might try the Roman route.'

Michael got up to leave after giving a temporary address with his old university friend where he hoped to stay for a while.

As the tram wheels ground and screeched around a corner, he had confirmation of returning to the industrial age like a time traveller. All the modern urban trappings were laid bare to intrigue him and take his mind off his problem for a short time. It was as if there was a metallic patina over the world and even the trees and shrubs stood in an organised relationship with each other, respecting the spaces in between. He was looking at his own city with new eyes and he felt respect for the aura of control in evidence, from the concrete towers to the traffic lights.

He fell to thinking in his hopelessly intellectual way, about the striving for mastery of the natural world which this city represented. Perhaps this was what had prompted him to wrestle with a natural threat. Pain and grief had challenged him to act within his power and he had not reckoned with the consequences for his position in the very society which had equipped him with that power. Would he do the same thing again? he asked himself and the answer was 'Yes.'

'Don't mind me.'

'Not at all,' he smiled woodenly when his intense rumination was interrupted by the buxom woman who landed beside him with a loaded shopping trundler which she tried to manoeuvre beside her in the aisle.

'I should of gone home earlier, but I met a friend I hadn't seen for ages and we stopped to chat. Yer know how it is - yer get talking and next thing yer know yu've yakked the time away. Trouble is - I hadn't seen my friend since her hubby died, God rest his soul.' She turned stiffly to look at him but had to rely on her eyes going to the limit of their sockets.

'Of course,' said Michael obligingly, feeling sorry for the bulk she had to move around, plus shopping.

'I don't drive - a thing I regret many a time - but then there's the parking. Yer can't win.'

'No,' he said, hoping to confirm her belief, whatever it happened to be.

'So what're you doing on public transport then? Lost your licence - had a bit of a run-in with the law?' She nudged him with jovial intimacy.

'Something like that.' Out of the mouths of babes and sucklings and garrulous old women, he thought.

She hadn't waited for his answer.

'Yeah - my Darren lost his licence soon after my Sid died - God rest his soul - and it was just at the time when I needed a shoffer. "Yer timing's pretty rotten," I told him. As I say - yer can't win - ya just have to battle on - Oops, here's my stop. Nice to chat...'

Michael watched her admiringly as she called out to the driver to wait while she got herself and her uncompromising trolley off the steep step, and he waved back when she smiled up at him from the pavement. Once upon a time he would have resented such a conversation but now he felt differently about a woman struggling to connect with her fellows. He remembered his intolerance with the platitudes and jokiness of some of his parents' acquaintances but now he was more like a kindly anthropologist come to engage with the natives and possibly learn from them. For some reason he thought of Min and wondered what she would be doing while he was grinding along in a tram and surrounded by concrete.

His mind had become so distracted that he had forgotten to look for the landmarks denoting his stop and found if necessary to alight and hail a taxi to backtrack. Once again he found himself in the company of a garrulous person who was full of information about his last fare. He heard how this hapless passenger was in the throes of chemotherapy and his days were numbered so had worked out how many journeys he would have to make and paid in advance. Michael felt his anger rising but the oblivious chatterbox capped his tale with 'That's what I call organised, don't you?' as he processed his credit card.

'You bloody heartless fool!' blurted Michael as he slammed the door and felt his erstwhile mood disappear with the accelerating taxi.

## Chapter 57

Polly was determined to find out who 'Patriot' was, who had sheltered under a pseudonym to get something off his or her chest without facing any friends among the expatriate community. She could sympathise with that but her suspicion that Eturasi was the author nagged at her mind and made her anxious to talk to him. She decided that it might be a good idea to invite him and Luatasi for a meal to clear the air. So far she had not seen Jupeli to arrange to go on with the language sessions because for her, the landscape had changed and she needed time to reengage with life and people around her. With Jim in particular. The miscarriage which could be viewed as a resolution of a crisis had a profound effect on her emotions and her relationship with him. To bear a child of local heritage would have been the ultimate commitment to the culture and she mourned its loss while admitting that her transient idealism would have been incorporated in the being of another person. She and Jim needed time alone together and they were thinking seriously of a visit to the Big Island which they'd heard so much about. When she suggested that they invite Eturasi and Luatasi, Jim wanted the resolution of the relationship with Jupeli first.

'After your ingenious reason for going on with him as tutor, I think you should also tell him what happened. Following up what Eturasi thinks is small beer surely?'

Polly agreed but said she was nervous about confronting Jupeli. 'He'll probably say the child was yours. You and I know it wasn't but how can I convince him?'

'By the way - do you want to carry on with the language tuition?'

'I must say I'm feeling ambivalent right now. It's awkward with Jupeli and if Eturasi wrote that stuff I'll feel awkward with him - unless we can sort things out.'

So it was agreed that an evening with Eturasi and Luatasi might be the best course after all.

The cicadas were deafening as the couple walked over to Polly and Jim's about a kilometre away. It was not often that they were able to go out together because of the demands that family and jobs put on them. Luatasi was involved with new curriculum work for the primary level and it took up most of her thinking time; she was highly motivated to change the teaching environment for their two young daughters. They had spent some weeks at school in New Zealand and sometimes complained about the more authoritarian methods at home.

As they strolled along and met people they knew, they stopped to talk and in some cases explain that they had a babysitter for the girls. That in itself was a town phenomenon and made some people smile.

'We should try and do this more often,' said Eturasi. 'Our lives are too separate these days.'

Polly had lit lots of candles around the main room and Luatasi was reminded of her liturgical past at boarding school in New Zealand. When she said as much to Polly, they laughed at the bonding effect of a Catholic education in a very different hemisphere.

'All this flickering is likely to give me a headache,' said Jim. 'Why we want to hark back to such deprived medieval times when we entertain, beats me.'

Eturasi laughed. 'Recent times for us of course - so it is interesting that it appears romantic I'm told. When I was a kid, electric light was non- existent in our village. Still is, in many.'

'We're being too prosaic.' Luatasi looked apologetic. 'We said to each other as we walked over here how pleasant it is to go out together for a change.'

'So let's drink to that,' said Jim, standing up and rubbing his hands.

The food was a mélange of Polly's mother's tortilla recipes and local fruit which they never tired of. She had made a chocolate cake because she remembered Eturasi's enthusiasm for the one she had made for him when she started her lessons. It was going to be difficult to broach the subject of the newspaper article because neither she nor Jim wanted to be contentious after all. So when Eturasi, feeling the need to get a response to the sentiments it had expressed from people he considered to be friends, asked if they had heard about it, Polly said firmly,

'Of course. We're wondering if "Patriot" is someone we know.'

Eturasi was looking down at his hand which was splayed on his knee and Luatasi gave a preparative little cough. He glanced up briefly and said it was not intended to offend the people who made a real contribution to ideas but the system was patchy.

'We have had some bad experiences in the past of volunteers sent here to carry out some project and they've been worse than hopeless. There seems to be an assumption that a person from a so-called developed country is ipso facto, a developed sort of character with the requisite skills.' And Luatasi added,

'Some teachers who've come to upskill us are less qualified than many of our own. They're more of a hindrance than a help.'

'Do you think the volunteer system is at fault?' asked Polly.

'Problem is, the salaried experts are overpaid and are sometimes not worth the money.'

'Surely there are useful things achieved in spite of the failures.' Jim looked hopefully at Eturasi who agreed and said it was embarrassing to read the entrails with two hospitable and earnest volunteers whose contribution was welcome. He looked at Polly and said her interest in the culture made her stand out from the crowd.

'As I saw it, what you said about some volunteers being unemployed at home sort of reflected on all of us and that's what upset some of us.'

The possibility of doing a stretch in an idyllic environment did appeal to some who were of a shallow persuasion but they must soon be weeded out according to Jim.

'It's not all that easy changing eating habits and doing without a decent library and the film circuit. After all, the volunteers live closer to the local people than UN folk and the like.'

When they ambled home again, Eturasi and Luatasi were too tired to talk much but they both agreed later that the discussion had been interesting and even instructive all round.

'I forgot to tell Polly that Jupeli is going to New Zealand and we will have to go back to the old arrangement - that is if she wants to carry on with her study.'

They both knew what had prompted the decision to arrange for Jupeli to leave the country but were reluctant to voice their thoughts. All in all, they would not be surprised if Polly took a while to make up her mind to resume her classes with the Patriot.

## Chapter 58

'How do you feel now?' Jim turned to face Polly as they lay separated by the clammy heat, a thin sheet over their nakedness.

'I was amused how Eturasi assumed that we knew he had written that article.'

'I agree with him to a large extent because I think some Europeans are inclined to have a born-to-rule mindset and when some of the no-hopers find themselves in an underdeveloped country they throw their weight around. I'm starting to notice it after the initial bewilderment of adjusting. I don't want to be guilty of it because I find it nauseating. Please tell me if you see me veering into a patronising frame of mind.' He stared at the ceiling fan. 'That's where I admire your engagement Poll. It couldn't have been easy to dive in at the deep end.'

Polly smiled at Jim's wording. He sounded sincere.

'Don't give me too much credit honey. My whole attitude was one of a tabula rasa to be imprinted and in a strange way, you and I have approached things from opposite positions. Perhaps my American soul is still unformed. After all my mother is Hispanic.'

'You know - while we were talking to Eturasi and Luatasi, I had a flash of insight and it was this: We're like modern missionaries with the merchandise of salvation in our bulging kit bags. But in our case, the message is that material wealth is the holy grail and the means is capitalism. How about that for inspiration?'

'But you didn't go that far with Eturasi - and why not?' Polly lifted her mane of hair away from her neck. The night was hot and still.

'Well - it didn't come to me in verbal form till just now as I talk to you. Anyway - I wonder how the missionary analogy would have gone down with those two. After all they're deeply dyed in the Protestant faith brought here by the London Missionary Society. It's so intertwined now with the ancient culture that it's not seen as political probably.'

'Isn't it the same for Catholics? My parents' religion is more cultural than theological I reckon.' She put her arm on Jim's stomach and gave the hairs a little tickle.

'God - we're getting deep.'

He was so engrossed in his thoughts that he didn't react, but went on with his speculations.

'Do you ever wonder what the world would be like if we had all stayed contentedly in our ecological niches instead of becoming a footloose species first on horseback and now on jet planes?'

Polly yawned and said, 'I've run out of abstract ideas carino. Do you love me - after all my cultural exploits? - that's about as abstract as I can be.' She turned on her side to face him and after some moments Jim did the same.

'As far as I understand the notion I do love you. But it doesn't feel like that fierce passionate thing a lot of chaps feel perhaps - or else I'd be challenging Jupeli to a duel at dawn. If that's the test of true love then I have to wonder...'

'God - you're so analytical it's depressing me. Look - I think I might have taken up the local language because I thought you saw me as an airhead.'

Jim kissed her at length and she relaxed and he felt her mouth smile.

'Airhead meets egghead. What a combination!'

They peeled apart and Jim muttered sleepily, 'Perhaps it's my turn to sample the local wares....'

There was no further dialogue because they were both suddenly sound asleep.

He was walking along a deserted beach throwing a stick to a dog which had come from nowhere but which gleefully ran after the stick and brought it back and stood with its tail wagging expectantly and his tongue lolling. His sheepskin-lined jacket with a turned up collar withstood the bracing wind coming off the water. Suddenly a voice behind him said, 'That's the stuff - make him work. There's nothing worse than a pampered pooch.' He turned around to see his father in old blue overalls and a welding mask propped up on his bony forehead.

'What're you doing here Jens?'

'Getting away from the foundry for a break. You have the right idea - getting away from it all.'

The dog sniffed at his father's boots, before taking up the position like a relay runner waiting for the baton. As the dog rushed off he watched his father looking at the sea rolling in, his eyes squinting at the refulgent glare.

'It's brighter than I expected. You're not wearing protective eye pieces I see. Think you should. Your sight is too precious to risk losing it.'

The dog had not returned from his last retrieval and he wondered if it had been stolen. That was how it felt. He had a sudden sense of loss. His father was still there, staring silently at the water. Then Jim watched him slowly bend down and pick up a stone which he threw strongly out beyond the breaking waves. He turned to smile at Jim before walking off. Jim didn't usually remember his dreams but when he woke in the morning he had a clear memory of this one as if he had stared at a painting in an art gallery until it had firmly impressed his mind. He felt the presence of his father for the first time since he could remember and it unsettled him slightly. His mind thought over the earlier conversation with Polly and he looked for a source there. But the dream's provenance was more general and might have had something to do with his freedom compared with his father's enslavement. His father's analysis of the economic system he was part of had been a formative part of Jim's education and he often wondered if Jens would have returned to his native Norway if he hadn't married Jim's mother and through her, formed a commitment to the United States.

Polly woke when Jim got up to go to the bathroom and she let out a long sigh.

'Another lovely day I see,' she said. 'I'm starting to be bored by sunshine.'

'Maybe we should go and live in Norway,' he called as he made his contribution to Archimedes' bath water.

## Chapter 59

When the telephone pinged into her consciousness Min wanted to ignore it because her body was heavy with the sleep peculiar to the afternoon siesta. She looked at her watch and the time told her that it was her parents' mealtime so it was unlikely to be them. It rang for some time as she dragged herself to the main room and picked up the receiver. The male voice at the other end sounded unfamiliar even though he had said her name. When Michael asked her how she was she was still not sure who was speaking.

'It's Michael. In Melbourne.' As if she had forgotten his existence.

'You sound different - I didn't recognise your voice.'

'I feel different. "Alienated" might be a better word.'

'How is it going ?' Min knew her question was trite and that he sounded as if the going was not good.

'I wish you could come over and bridge the gap. The city feels so sort of inorganic. I know that sounds a bit mad but it's the only way I can describe my feelings here. Too long in the jungle perhaps.'

'I'd love to come and bring you a steamy slice of paradise and swap it for a lungful of brisk cool air. Dear Michael - the grass is always greener, n'est-ce pas?' She tried to offer consolation but it was clear that Michael was depressed and perhaps lonely.

The conversation was somewhat stilted and Min felt as if their easy friendship was more strained. She said she would join him in Melbourne as soon as there was a break in the semester but it was a while before that. They agreed that he would ring again and he said that his movements were uncertain so there was no point in giving her a phone number. When they had hung up she felt deeply unsatisfied and anxious. She needed to talk to someone but thought it might be a sort of betrayal if she communicated her feelings to Dinah for instance. It was as if she had spoken to a stranger masquerading as Michael.

She made herself some toast which she usually ate when she wasn't particularly hungry and then sat down to mark some assignments which were overdue. Daylight faded and night descended during the process and then she decided she would drive somewhere to think. Her mood was somewhere between brown and grey and she wanted to tune into the natural world to put things into perspective.

She parked the car in a lay by above the town. There were houses somewhere in the trees but they were hidden and not a distraction. She got out of the car and leaned against the door so she could listen to the delicate sounds of the night world preparing for its tour of duty under the sky slowly being peppered with twinkling bodies. The Milky Way was like a dusty smear above her with the Southern Cross lying to one side. Her knowledge of the constellations was sketchy but her response to their presence was one of awe and delight. She smiled to think that Jupeli could easily know more than she did about the mysterious canopy of the southern sky, but it was the early Maori voyagers who had mastered the heavenly map and made landfall in one of the last habitable latitudes north of Antarctica.

So removed had she become from her immediate surroundings as she tried to contemplate the vastness, that she jumped with fright when a car rounded the bend in the road and its lights picked her out as it sped past. She heard it slow down further on so she jumped back into her car and locked the doors. After several moments a figure came alongside her window and tapped on the glass. With a thumping heart she stared straight ahead until she heard 'Bonsoir' through the glass and she turned to see Gerard a few inches from her face and smiling. She wound down the window and feeling silly, said 'Bonsoir.'

'I recognise your car and ask myself if there is a problem.'

'Nothing mechanical - if that's what you mean.' It was an unguarded response and she hoped he would not delve. He walked around to the passenger side where she unlocked the door and he climbed in, still grinning. After kissing her on both cheeks he asked her what she was doing in this lonely spot. Her stargazing explanation made him laugh again but then he looked perplexed. Was this the only spot where she could see the stars? Min realised that her explanation sounded lame and she couldn't be bothered trying to convey her mood so she asked him instead what he was doing in that part of the town. He told her that he had been visiting a person who had some land for sale on the other side of the hill.

'J'ai vendu ma propriété à Nouméa et je m'intéresse à en acheter une ici.'

'Oh.' Her French was blocked by her emotions and worry about Michael. She resented Gerard in her present mood and he showed no sign of leaving. Instead, he went on to mention that Yvonne had agreed to stay on now that the café was doing well and that she was keen to learn to speak English. Also it would be useful for the child to be bilingual. She would have more choices and might want to live in Australia or New Zealand, which idea seemed to amuse Gerard.

'Tu veux rester dans ce pays?'

'Non - enfin - je vais rentrer en Nouvelle Zélande quand mon contrat sera terminé.' Her words were brusque and she put her hands on the steering wheel. Suddenly he put his arm around her neck and turned her head towards him. He planted a rough kiss on her surprised mouth and then with a muscular tongue, prized open her teeth. After a brief exploration, he let go of her and patted her knee reassuringly. She was speechless and as she was making a few adjustments to her oral cavity, he opened the door and got out. With a comradely wave he closed the door and disappeared into the night. Min bent over the wheel and moaned. Her intention to raise her spirit to a higher plane had been thwarted by this visitation which conveyed a dubious message.

She started the engine and drove maniacally down the hill until she saw headlights coming straight at her. They were on a collision course and she had a flash of an idea that Gerard was playing some perilous prank for added fun. She stopped and screamed at the headlights in front of her. Then she saw a very large man cross in front of the beams and once again she checked that her doors were locked.

'Why you drive on the left? You drunk or something?' She wound down the window.

'Oh God - I'm so sorry! I wasn't thinking - honestly - it's the first time I've done that. My mind must have wandered. I'm terrible sorry!' She started to shake.

'You are Australian? You drive on the left in your place?'

'Yes,' she said. 'I must be too tired to think straight.' She couldn't be bothered to disown Australia as she so often had to. 'They can wear this one,' she smiled inwardly.

'You are lucky this time,' the saturnine face said reprovingly and he wagged his finger.

'Make sure you drive on the right side in future.'

'Thanks a lot for understanding. I promise it won't happen again.'

She waited until he had climbed back into his car and backed up to go around her vehicle. They exchanged quiets toots and Min let out a maniacal screech because she had been tempted to engage in linguistic sophistry and say that for her, the left side was the right side. She'd file it away for a more suitable occasion. She was still smiling when she drove sedately into her carport.

## Chapter 60

Min was disturbed by the strange encounter with Gerard hard on the heels of her worry about Michael and she found herself gazing out on to the now abundant grass in the compound, while the students sat their end of semester exams. Another session with the machetes would precede the new semester and she remembered how apprehensive she had been at the first sight of them. So much had happened and she was now more comfortable in her environment except for the destabilising effect of Michael's departure along with Gerard's incursion into it. "C'est la vie" would probably have explained it for the latter but that was not her style.

However, putting her life into perspective had been the effect of a telephone call from Robert to ask her if she had heard the news about the sinking of the Greenpeace ship in Auckland harbour. He was distraught that such an act of terrorism could occur in New Zealand and apparently at the hands of an allied country because two French agents had been picked up as suspects. He mentioned that two of his great uncles had died in France in 1916 and his father had fought in Europe in World War Two. Min was surprised to hear the emotion in his voice.

'Was anyone on board when it happened?'

'News is sketchy. I heard that the photographer was but I'm not sure whether he survived. God - can you believe it Min? I bet it's got something to do with our opposition to those nuclear tests in Mururoa.'

'Sounds like sheer aggression laced with wounded arrogance - if it was a

French thing. I s'pose we'd better wait till the facts come out.'

Min thought about Gerard and how he would react to the news. Would he support "la patrie" come what may? It reminded her of her angry opposition to Britain's war in the Falklands in 1982.

She and Robert had arranged to have drinks at the Seasider with Yushi and Fanua. Noriko had already gone back to Japan but there were plenty of photos of the three of them.

One or two of the students looked up from their work from time to time and some returned her smile of encouragement, while others looked away as if she were the source of their trial by pen and paper. Flashes of guilt crossed her mind when she thought of the imposition of the written mode on people with a long oral tradition. How would she have coped in the reverse situation and had had to recite screeds of stuff from memory?

But it was a pointless scruple so she closed her eyes with her chin in her hand and listened to the low hum of the overhead fan.

Yushi had been full of enthusiasm for the holiday and said that his English had been very useful. They stayed with Fanua's relatives in Auckland and then had gone south to Rotorua where he and Noriko had found the sulphur fumes unpleasant. He pointed out the picture of the geyser which had finally spouted its tall, jet stream high above their heads after their patient wait. Fanua laughed and said,

'I found out that my husband is a very determined man,' and she looked at him with newly-wed eyes.

Min asked for Noriko's address in Japan and she told them about the lovely gift she had left behind.

'I hoped to see her again to thank her in person.'

'She wants to come back one day but she has to work hard in Japan.' Fanua asked Robert where Dinah was and was told that she was busy studying her correspondence course in early childhood education and had an assignment due. Fanua said she would like to discuss it with her because she wanted to get a qualification in that area too. It was a new thing for the children in the town area and the demand was growing.

'Dinah wants to go back to Australia and she wants to have a career to fall back on - in case her diving school plans fall through.' Robert grinned with scepticism which was probably not noticed by Fanua who asked instead with characteristic directness, if Dinah wanted children. The smile disappeared from Robert's face and he looked away and mumbled something unclear.

Min turned the conversation to the sinking of the Greenpeace ship and found that the other two knew nothing about it. Their shocked reaction was directly linked to their recent visit to Auckland and the feeling of security they had had there. Min was surprised that they were also unaware of the nuclear tests which the French had been carrying out near Tahiti for years; first, in the atmosphere and after some protests from Australia and New Zealand, under the sea near the small island of Mururoa.

'Why they test in Pacific?'

'Because it is a great big empty ocean with a few unimportant islands dotted about and where the protests aren't significant in France itself.'

'But we are not unimportant.'

Min wasn't sure whether her irony had been picked up so she agreed warmly with Fanua and said she was interpreting the French attitude as far as she understood it. She looked at Robert to take up the cudgels but he was either too tired or too angry to add anything.

Yushi also was looking pensive. Min wondered if the idea of nuclear weapons was painful for him so she tried to veer the subject away from further exploration. He suddenly burst out more emotionally than Min had ever heard him by saying, 'Bomb is evil. It kill many, many thousand in Japan and many people suffer pain after.' His eyes sparkled with grief.

Fanua put her hand on his and said nothing. Min felt guilty for having brought the subject up, without thinking about the possible implications for him, and she wondered what to do.

'Let me shout us all some bubbly to say welcome back,' and she stood up to go to the bar. Robert murmured something about 'no cause for celebration' but she ignored him and singlehandedly set about cheering everybody up. When she got back with a tray of flutes she asked Yushi if she could have some copies of the photos.

'Sure. You're welcome. Mark the ones you want.'

Later she was left wondering what had gone wrong for Robert but she did not intend to ask.

The squawk of the buzzer signalling the end of the exam, brought Min back to her immediate task. The student relief meant a burden for her to bear for as long as it was going to take her to assess their output. As she watched the scripts with their decoratively cursive script stack up, she asked herself why she held out against the multi-choice examination format.

## Chapter 61

Robert's recent silences had affected Min more than she wanted to admit but she thought it was probably to do with the event in New Zealand. She too was angry but she was less likely to internalise her anger these days. She was lying on her bed meditating on various matters when she heard a car stop outside and the engine turned off. She stayed still and waited. She thought about Mr Telefono for the first time for ages. A voice she recognised called,

'Helloo,' so she got off the bed and went to open the door. She stared at Gerard as if he were an apparition. He asked himself in and she had two mad thoughts.

'He's come to apologise for the episode up the hill or for the bombing of the ship in Auckland.'

But he put his arm around her and asked her in French if she was pleased to see him. She answered in English that she was not at all sure. He smiled and held on to her while looking rather mockingly into her bemused face.

'Come on. It's only a little game which we are playing.'

'I don't usually play these games.'

'Let me teach you the rules. They are not difficult.'

With that he led her over to the couch sat her down and kissed her with the energy he had shown the other night but this time he prolonged it until he felt her relax and respond. When he let her go he asked,

'Have you any wine?'

'Only whisky.'

'I have some in the car.' He sprang up and went outside. Min sat dumbfounded and looked blearily as he held up a bottle of wine.

'Du vin de la douce France,' he crowed, producing a corkscrew from his pocket. Min wanted to say that she had sworn an oath not to drink or eat anything produced by 'la douce France nucléaire,' but she was in a state of mute shock. It was as if her earlier outburst had drained her of the needed polemic.

'First we toast, then we quaff and we kiss again with our marinated tongues making delicious contact.' Min thought to herself that here was a caricature of a French lover.

'Is this your normal technique?' she said through bruised lips.

'For the mistress - yes.'

'How bloody presumptuous you are.' She sounded limp and unconvincing and was suffering from very confused feelings where curiosity played a part, she admitted to herself later.

They toasted and quaffed (which he had pronounced 'quarf' - to rhyme with 'staff') and he took the glass out of her hand. Having put his own down with a certain deliberation he pressed his mouth against hers. His kiss tasted rich and fruity as their tongues wrestled like blind worms and she felt a mixture of repugnance and fascination. They repeated steps one and two until the glasses were empty and step three was announced.

'Now we go to the bedroom where I will remove your clothes,' (pronounced 'clothers').

'I need a shower - I feel all sweaty.'

'Excellent idea - we prepare each other in the douche.'

Although Gerard was small, he was all muscles and bones. Min rubbed his torso with her soap and it felt like priming a racing animal. At the same time he sawed between her legs, groaning quietly. She squealed when he moved up to anoint her armpits and he put his soapy hand over her mouth saying 'Shh'. She was having difficulty being transported beyond the comic antics to serious eroticism so she finished the ablutions in a business-like manner and turned off the water.

Once supine on the bed her mood began to change and she felt herself more responsive to Gerard's less laughable manoeuvres. He was suddenly gentle and murmured, 'Doucement, doucement.' Time stopped and there was nothing in the world but their bodies and a drive to union. Min heard herself groan like a baritone as they found connection. Gerard looked at her as if she were a total stranger striving for their common summit. When the synchrony of their bodies' movements rose to the apex they sighed unanimously and collapsed like rag dolls, played out. When she woke later Gerard had gone and he had put a sheet over her. Min felt as if she had dreamed the whole episode, such was the surreality which overtook her. How had she submitted to the practised blandishments of this man she had nothing in common with? Did this give him the wrong idea about her which she had done little to correct? Was her response the function of her need which she had ignored while striving for understanding?

Unwilling thoughts of Michael entered her brain so she climbed from the bed to shower again and settle down to look at the exam papers she had to mark. There was still some wine in the bottle so she poured herself a glass and sat down with purpose to read what the students had produced that afternoon. Little would they know, but she was in an indulgent mood to give them her best shot.

## Chapter 62

At the college the Principal was working in her office and Min knocked softly on her open door before checking her mail. She wanted to report on some of the amusing answers which had helped pass the evening in which she was determined to finish what was usually a tedious chore.

'I've been meaning to talk about your plans for next year Min. Is it too much to hope for that you might consider extending your contract?'

Min was taken aback - next year seemed quite a long way off.

'It's my perennial problem - finding staff and trying to keep them if they are suitable.'

'I haven't thought about it except in a passing sort of way. There always seems to be plenty of stuff to occupy my mind. But I'll try and let you know soon.'

They sat and chatted about the examination answers a few of which contained identical mistakes. Min commented on the fact that only two of the students concerned were near each other and she wondered if and how cheating had taken place. She handed over the more suspect ones and the principal said she'd have a good look and if necessary, call the students to explain.

'You know - it's really odd how the same mistake can appear in scripts where the students have been widely separated. Examination telepathy I call it.' She looked closely at Min and told her that she was looking relaxed.

'Perhaps it's finishing marking all those exam papers.'

The idea of staying on for another year might be a good one after the effort of learning the art of tropical living had been sort of accomplished. Time was going very quickly and it would be practical to recycle her hard-thought-out lectures with a new batch of students. She would be sorry to say goodbye to the ones who would be moving on.

The idea of Gerard was problematic though. She had arranged to meet Yvonne to begin regular English lessons the following week and she knew it would be impossible to do that and engage with Gerard. It might have been a flash in the pan anyway and she had no feelings for him, apart from the resurrection of her dormant libido.

As she was working out what she would do next he appeared at the staff room door.

'What... ?'

'I am here to see the Directeur,' he said before she had time to say more.

'Can you tell me where he is?'

Min got up and went to the door of the Principal's office. 'There is a gentleman here to see you.'

As soon as the Principal appeared at the staff room door, Gerard sprang up with his hand outstretched. Min introduced them and Gerard launched into questions about Min's competence to teach his wife English. The Principal looked rather bewildered by the question until he explained that it was a "leetle plaisanterie". Min laughed mirthlessly and the Principal, still in the dark, frowned slightly.

'O God - I'm not supposed to moonlight and the bugger has dobbed me in - what's going on in his devious mind?' she thought in a bit of a panic. But things became clear after this unnecessary skirmish and Gerard smiled charmingly when he was invited to take a seat.

'I have a French café - you know eet? - and I have a good idea to provide morning tea to your staff. Cheap rates - because of Meen.'

There was no immediate response from the Principal and Min looked fixedly at the papers in front of her. What would this polite woman make of this out – of - left - field situation? Perhaps she'd think that Min had a hand in the idea. She would probably find it difficult to turn it down point blank because that was not her way. Finally she said,

'Thank you for the suggestion. I'll need time to think about it. We do have an arrangement with one of the near villages who bring us traditional food on Fridays when the classes finish early.'

'I do not come on Fridays then.'

In answer to the question about the food Gerard kissed his digits in the traditional manner and said it was "délicieux – naturellement". Min spoke up and said it would probably be croissants.

'Croissants - baguettes - palmiers - you order according to taste.' He went on to explain that he imported the ingredients from overseas so they were of high "qualité". That was perfectly true and Min recalled the croissants she had pounced on when she saw them in a local bakery but had gagged on when she tasted the meat fat in place of butter.

The outcome of the discussion was inconclusive but Gerard seemed happy with that. He pranced off as if the deal was done and waved as he climbed into his van under the breadfruit tree.

The Principal laughed at his resourcefulness and asked Min how she knew him. (Did she think that her relaxed disposition had something to do with the rascal?) Min said that she had become a regular at the café and occasionally practised her French conversation which was an endangered species these days. To her surprise, the Principal told her that she had spent two weeks in Paris at an OECD seminar and had learned a few useful phrases; the conference had been translated into English, she hastened to add.

'That is why it is so good for our students to become fluent in English - not necessarily to read Shakespeare, but to be able to travel the world and participate in world affairs.'

Min confessed that she was thinking of introducing the valedictory class to Shakespeare because she thought that the issues were universal and the language strangely hypnotic, if arcane.

'I trust your judgement my dear and if you think they can handle it, go ahead. They are a good class I must say. Several have studied overseas already.'

At that moment, one of the members of that class appeared at the door, wanting to talk to the Principal. She told him to go along to her office and she would be with him in a moment. The young man bowed respectfully and smiled at Min who greeted him.

'This young man wants to become a pastor and study for the priesthood and wants my support. But I don't want to lose him from the teaching body. I think his talents are more useful there.' Min was surprised to hear this admission.

'But religion is such a huge part of life here,' she ventured, but with a sub-text of agreement.

The Principal stood up. She looked suddenly tired and overburdened. Instead of pursuing the point she raised her eyes in a gesture of resignation and at that moment Min more or less decided that she would stay on for another year.

## Chapter 63

Michael's first interview with one of the members of the Medical Council had been more relaxed than he had expected. This was perhaps because it had been an off-the-record discussion prior to a disciplinary hearing to take place in a few weeks. He hoped that this would give him time to settle back into his old environment and marshall his thoughts. He knew that the outlook was very uncertain. Perhaps his youth would work in his favour; he had not had time to become sufficiently detached from witnessing intense suffering. He had put this to the young woman who did the preliminary interview and she offered the premise that most doctors were affected by suffering and that was the foundation of the hospice movement. At the same time he felt that she was a sympathetic fellow professional who agreed that he had faced an agonising situation. However there was no dilemma because the law was clear and stood as a protection against malfeasance in regard to human life.

Michael had tentatively suggested that his inexperience had been a factor also. He knew that it was possible to administer a lethal drug with the intention of reducing pain but at the same time knowing that death could result. This principle of the double effect amounted to an equivocation in his judgement, and he had been so emotionally distraught that he hadn't considered this course of action. It was one thing to witness intolerable pain in another human being but if that being was someone you loved it clouded all consequences for oneself.

'A veterinary surgeon is vouchsafed the right to euthanase suffering animals and I know that most of them find it a difficult thing to do. But we humans, as lords of creation, are not entitled to such humane treatment. And the suffering we endure is possibly of a different order because of the power of the human mind. We have put ourselves beyond deliverance.' Michael had not expressed these ideas before but they had arisen from his sub-conscious grappling with the moral question.

'I know that such ideas would not help your cause - if I may caution you. As a theoretical proposition it is interesting but we are discussing an actual event. I suggest you get advice from your lawyer.' The woman had to maintain the hippocratic oath - the ne plus ultra of medical ethics \- and Michael agreed.

'You must also agree surely that once a situational ethic is permitted in matters of life and death, the lines become blurred and the field is open to uncontrolled abuse.'

Michael had a moment of distraction when he was brusquely smitten by the beautiful honesty in the young woman's eyes. They bore the weight of sincerity in their gaze which disarmed him and he was in danger of forgetting his thesis; he looked away, as a form of defence, - to realign his thoughts - and in the silence she too had turned her eyes on to the document on the desk in front of her. He was sure that she too had been aware of this fleeting intrusion into their discourse but unswerving professionalism took over and the interview concluded on a note of mutual respect. Michael thanked her warmly and she wished him well with equal warmth.

On the way back to his friend's house he reflected on the position he was in. He felt torn by his conviction that he had "done no harm" and the knowledge that his action could not be a blueprint for others. Could he be accused of arrogance by putting himself beyond the law? He rejected this proposition on his own behalf.

When he arrived at the apartment he was surprised to find his friend already home from work.

'I thought you'd be ready for a drink,' he said as he got up from the couch and went into the kitchen.

'Do you feel wrung out?' Michael gave a résumé of the interview and said it was less formidable than he had expected because the interviewer was charming. His friend smiled.

'That helps,' he replied as he handed Michael a glass and raised his own in a supportive gesture. As he sat down, Michael found himself wanting to describe the two people he'd encountered on his way.

'It was strange you know, to find that I had empathy with a prattling old dear who struck me as being incapable of a mean thought. But the taxi driver reminded me that hoi poloi can be as mean as the next person.'

'You'd forgotten the battlers while you lay around in exotic places.'

'Honestly I can't say I ever gave them much thought. My parents and their friends wouldn't have thought of themselves as battlers - they just did a bit of a line in platitudes.'

They finished their beer and discussed going out for a meal to a local eatery.

'I think I'll have a delayed siesta before we tackle the complexities of a local menu. What's the current culinary must-have?'

'Sun-dried tomatoes and goat's cheese. How does that grab you?'

'It'll make a change.'

Michael went off in his socks to lie down and let the impressions which were coming at him like a rain squall, seep through his mind. He was beginning to feel better about things as he adjusted to the rhythm of the city but he longed for his privacy which he had become so accustomed to.

'I think I might have become a bloody bore,' he muttered as he felt his bones sink into the comfortable bed.

During the meal he had been asked about his time overseas and found that it was difficult to know where to start. His friends there seemed so different from city dwellers. Not that they were not erstwhile urbanites but they seemed to have shed the carapace required for that way of life. He looked around at the other diners noting their chic casual style surrounded by a sort of unfeigned jollity. It was the end of the southern winter and heading into spring, so there was value in generating that physical energy which in the tropics would have enervated him. It would take him quite a while to feel that he belonged in this place once more. He was interrupted by his friend changing the subject.

'Look old chap I think you're showing signs of depression. I hope that doesn't upset you, but I feel concern for your well-being. For reasons I won't go into, I have had occasion to observe the signs on another occasion.'

Michael was not upset but apologised to his friend for being like

"death's head at the feast".

'I know a good bloke I could recommend - if it's any help.'

'I think that would be but I didn't realise my mood was so obviously out of sync.'

'As I said, I'm better placed than most to recognise depression and you have been through the mill.'

'Yeah - it's so glib to call it a personality defect. The vagaries of the mind are so easily linked to the conscience where guilt lies in wait, ready to rear its head.'

'Guilt - the universal scourge of the virtuous. The best you can hope for perhaps is a management strategy.'

'Thanks mate. You've hit the nail on the head.'

## Chapter 64

To Min's relief there was no sign of Gerard before the day she had arranged with Yvonne to meet by the pool at the hotel to begin their weekly exchange of English and French conversation. In the meantime she had rationalised the affair with Gerard as a passing fancy designed to check that her libido was in working order and for Gerard as an example of that French institution known as "the other woman".

When Min arrived Yvonne was already in the pool with Monique who was splashing about vigorously. Any formal language was out of the question with the child to watch but Min resigned herself to one of those sessions which would be a series of unfinished fragments as Yvonne did life guard duty.

'Bonjour Meen, ça va?'

It turned out that Gerard was in New Caledonia for the week and Yvonne had closed the café for two hours - "la sieste" - she explained. Then she would go home and put Monique to bed and reopen. Without any preamble Yvonne launched into her feelings and Min listened to the torrent of French which was a useful listening exercise for her and a welcome release for Yvonne. It appeared that she was unhappy and wanted to go back to New Caledonia but Gerard wanted to sell their property there and buy some land on this island. With a glimmering of "mauvaise foi", Min advised Yvonne to give herself time because the first six months were the hardest. She spoke with as much sincerity as she could muster because she sympathised with Yvonne's homesickness and lack of francophone friends.

She missed her family and the food at home while Gerard said he felt freedom in a different culture and as for the food, tant pis! Min remarked that his attitude was unusual for a Frenchman to which Yvonne replied that it was just his line of argument. He was as francocentric as the next one.

'Does he go out in the evenings?' Min's disingenuous question arrived almost unbidden.

'Quite often - on business - while he is talking to landowners.'

'Do you get lonely?'

'More nervous.' Yvonne was hugging Monique and kissing the top of her damp little head. 'But I am a grown-up he tells me - and of course – we have the child.' She looked at the little face with such love that Min was moved.

'I need a swim.' Min was feeling hot and uncomfortable so she went to change into her swimming gear and all three got back into the pool. While she bounced Monique up and down in the water Yvonne launched into a new subject about local child-rearing customs.

'I do not want to send my child to school here because she will be hit and I am extremely opposed to that.'

'But it is a while before she has to attend school,' Min said ineffectually, knowing that a pre-school education was a strong French tradition. She reminded her that Dinah was doing a pre-school course and would be looking for children to practise on perhaps.

'I want to meet her soon. Can you contact her for me?'

Min had barely agreed when Yvonne suddenly changed the subject.

'Have you news of your Australian friend? He is a very nice man.'

'I had one phone call - but he has a lot to see to and is busy.'

'I thought you must be lovers.'

'He has a wife in Australia,' Min said cryptically.

'Oh. Do you miss him?' Min was blushing. How much of an impediment was the wife? she wondered, in confusion. The brown eyes sparkled for the first time and Min was jealous of the tawny skin which would never register a blush.

'Yes I do.' Min did a few strokes away from scrutiny while Yvonne pulled the baby along in the water. She was beginning to feel more like a white outcast in this country of brown and tawny sun-resistant flesh and Yvonne seemed to read her mind when she told her that she thought she was not a happy person. It was clearly her prerogative to tell Min that she was not "bien dans sa peau".

'Stuff you,' thought Min. 'Just because you have such gorgeous, unfreckled "peau" and you make me feel like a gawky hybrid among the beautifully adapted specimens all around us, it doesn't give you a licence to analyse my personality.' (There were few advantages in being an Anglo-Celt unless you were at the blond end of the spectrum. That was the ultimate prize which Min had never coveted until now.)

This coda to their discussion had the effect of relieving Min of the full freight of guilt about Gerard but she told herself that it would be childish to be vindictive towards Yvonne. Aloud, she did resort to sarcasm and asked Yvonne what advice she could offer. Just a sympathetic glance it seemed.

As they were leaving, Min met Semese who was transfixed by the apparition of Yvonne. He managed to ask if Min had heard from Michael but his gaze returned to the vision of the naiad in front of him. Min explained to Yvonne that Semese was one of Michael's work colleagues.

'You are docteur?' she asked. He was surprised by the question and Min wondered if he thought that Michael had told others of his medical background. She tried to explain that Michael had given her a thermometer when the little girl was sick and it had made him seem like a doctor.

'Yes. I work at the hospital only.'

Yvonne left them to return to her duty at the café and Semese invited Min to join him for a drink. She felt dishevelled and out of countenance after Yvonne's analysis of her self-confidence but it was necessary to overlook it and be her authentic self. This was the answer because it was impossible for her to be any other way.

Semese wanted to know how well she knew Michael whom he still called Lucky and which seemed so unsuitable these days. She told him that they had a very similar background and had shared a few secrets.

'He has some big problems which I really hope he can solve. At the hospital he was very much appreciated but I was the only person he confided in about his training. I presume you know he has a medical background.'

'It was not long before he left that he told me that. He hopes to come back one day I think.'

Semese didn't comment further but asked Min what her plans were and she told him that she had decided to extend her contract for another year.

'We must have another party one of these days.'

They agreed to keep in touch if they had any news of Michael.

## Chapter 65

The conversation with Yvonne had made Min miss Michael more than she had since he left and it was brought home to her that his company affirmed her in some mysterious way. Ruefully, she said to herself that it was nothing to do with sex as her French friend would no doubt have thought, but was linked to a level of communication that they shared. Perhaps "communion" was a better word if she stripped it of its religious connotation.

Instead of going straight home she went to Polly and Jim's place on the off-chance that one of them might be there. Polly came to the door, wrapping a lava lava around her torso and yawning.

'I hope I haven't interrupted your siesta,' said Min, looking at her watch.

'I know - I should be in the kitchen with a clean pinny, fixing a delicious meal. Fact is - I don't feel very well.'

Min was briefly sympathetic but was too keen to tell Polly what Yvonne had said.

'You're not going to take any notice of that, I hope. Get a grip girl.' She laughed her wide laugh and went to the refrigerator to get a cool drink. As they sat down and Min looked rather sheepish, Polly announced that she and Jim were thinking of leaving. Where they would go was not decided but they were not going back to the States yet.

'And I've just decided to stay on for another year!'

Polly said that they were thinking of Hawai'i and it wasn't so far away.

'What about your language study? Won't you miss that?'

'I understand the native language in Hawai'i is similar and we don't intend to live in Honolulu itself so there may be plenty of scope to keep going in one of the other islands. Who knows? It's rather fun to sort of go with the flow.'

Min heard that Jupeli had left for New Zealand where he was going to continue his schooling with the intention of returning one day to teach. Had he come to say goodbye?

'Yeah - we met for a few minutes at the market a couple of weeks ago and I didn't mention the miscarriage. What was the point I thought and Jim finally agreed, although he said he shouldn't have got off the hook so easily.'

Jim arrived home just as Min was leaving so she stayed a while to hear how he was feeling about the decision to leave. He too wanted to know if there was any word from Michael.

'I'm keen to go to Australia before we go to our next posting so I

thought we could see Michael.'

Polly told Jim about Min feeling insecure after hearing that she seemed unhappy and he remembered how she had been knocked off her perch by her brother-in-law.

'You need a second skin.'

'According to my French friend the problem lies under the skin.' She explained the expression which as she said, was flung about by amateur psychologists and she was probably being pathetic.

'I just don't know why people think they can pass judgement so casually.'

'I think it's because you allow yourself to be vulnerable,' Jim smiled kindly.

'In that case, humans are just like pack animals ready to prey on anybody they sense as different. There's not much survival value in imagination it seems to me.'

'Maybe the imagination needs focus so we're not paralysed by too many possibilities.'

Polly was bored and wanted Min to go home but she was careful not to let her feelings show.

'I think we should go out for something to eat - do you want to join us

Min?'

Jim looked at Polly, guessing her motives and was not surprised when

Min said she had prep to do.

'OK - so what's the plan?' he asked when Min had gone.

'I get sick of these analyses. I must be a simple soul.' She stared hard at Jim who said nothing to confirm or deny. She added, 'Look - I've decided to get a tattoo. Just a little one on my wrist.'

'What's brought this on?' Jim looked baffled. 'Do you remember what you said to me when I mentioned it in the beginning? It's a form of cultural theft - or something to that effect.' He snorted.

'I know. That's a full male body tattoo. I'm talking about a small, discreet wristband or ankle one which would be less obvious back home.

I still think the traditional tattoo is only for the members of this society. It has huge significance and outsiders don't qualify.'

Jim surprised himself at his reaction to Polly's idea. It was true that he had thought that a full tattoo would be a challenge but he had changed his mind completely since gaining a deeper appreciation for what made the culture unique in the world. It was a far cry from a couple of entwined hearts on a seaman's arm. Polly was thinking of a small memento of her miscarriage but it would be tactless and almost unfair, to mention that motive to Jim.

'Funny old Min - she is such a tortured soul. No doubt she misses

Michael although no one seems quite sure what their relationship was.'

'Two tortured souls writhing on the same rack - no, that's mean - they are both very intelligent and cerebral. Sometimes all that gets in the way of mindless sex.' Jim looked at Polly and they both sniggered. 'Do you feel like a bit of mindlessness?' He made groper mouth movements and Polly went and sat on his knee putting her arm around his neck.

'Problem here is that it's too hot and sticky for serious foreplay unless you're turned on by sound effects.'

Polly gave him a smacking kiss and stood up. She headed for the shower where Jim joined her.

'Three cheers for H2O,' he shouted as they competed for the jet of coldish water and teased each other until a serious mood overtook them both.

It was dark when Polly woke and she lay on her back with an overwhelming sense of well-being.

She looked at Jim's back and decided that she was lucky to have a partner who could articulate his feelings as well as come to the party like a good man. She hoped he would stick around and keep her entertained. Perhaps she could appreciate how Min felt. You knew when everything came together and shouldn't settle for less.

She got up to make a cup of coffee which she drank outside where the stars winked at her, complicit in her mood.

'I'm feeling smug and egotistical and it feels great.' She hissed at the heavens and shuddered with pleasure.

## Chapter 66

The news of the sinking of the Greenpeace ship in Auckland had made headlines in the local papers and Eturasi had expressed outrage at the act of terrorism in what he referred to as a zone of peace. The Pacific ocean must live up to its name, he wrote. Privately he expressed concern at the incursions by big power players which were intended to create zones of influence, so any countries which were economically deprived would find it hard to resist the money which came with these zones. However the important thing was to keep the local people informed about what was going on so they would have the knowledge to resist underhand dealings such as accepting toxic waste for disposal. Education and information would keep the politicians honest and resistant to corruption, he hoped.

The killing of the photographer on board the Rainbow Warrior was a new twist and the New Zealand government looked to its international allies for support only to find that they were silent for reasons best known to themselves. The Pacific island countries rallied in support, but the French "colonies" were predictably absent from that consensus.

Robert found himself retreating into a sort of melancholy which Dinah found difficult to live with. Their plans to go to Australia were put on hold while she worked on her assignments and waited to see how Robert would feel in a month or two. In the meantime she was getting to know Yvonne and observing little Monique to help her with her course. This had cheered Yvonne up considerably and her English was progressing well.

Robert on the other hand was feeling less motivated in his job with the forestry and therefore he was less sure if he wanted to stay where he was. The idea of Australia had seemed attractive when Dinah's family had outlined possibilities in Queensland but now he was feeling more inclined to go back to New Zealand and get involved in some form of activism such as the movement there against native forest logging. He had come to the conclusion that trees were a more valuable resource than gold because of their vital role in the world's environmental health. Of course the more he thought about the big picture the more powerless he felt.

One evening as they were preparing the meal Dinah asked him if he had ever thought of having children. He was surprised at first and then realised that Dinah was getting more interested in young pre-schoolers and so the thought of having her own child was inevitable.

'I suppose the thought has flitted through my head if I'm honest but I haven't let it take hold. I think it's too much of a responsibility and I haven't had much experience of family life. What's brought this on anyway?'

Dinah stopped chopping for a moment and looked straight ahead.

'I haven't given it much thought till now either but I must say little Monique has changed that. She's such a little darling.' She went on chopping and Robert pointed out that not all kids are darlings.

'Oh Rob - you're so negative. I should have expected that and kept my mouth shut. Shit - or merde - as Yvonne would say.'

Over the meal and a glass of wine Robert apologised and told Dinah that he could probably be talked around. It was just that at that moment he was feeling that the world was not a fit place to bring kids into. It was a huge responsibility and in a way the idea freaked him out.

'Imagine a little kid growing up into a world of x number of nuclear weapons poised over every head on the planet.'

'I know,' sighed Dinah, 'but they do grow up and handle the world as they know it and not as some poisoned Eden.' They were quiet while that proposition was considered and Dinah went on to tell Robert that her "niece" Tasha, was really her child and she had been impressed by the way she dealt with her environment.

Robert stopped in his tracks and reached silently for his wine glass. Dinah went on to explain how she had got pregnant when she was sixteen and her sister was married with no kids so an adoption was arranged.

'It's been great all round, actually. Tasha knows the deal - Mum has a super granddaughter and Tessa has never been able to produce kids of her own. And I really enjoyed having time with my "niece" when they were here.'

'It looks like a good arrangement I admit but you still want to try again, seventeen or so years later?'

Dinah shrugged. 'I don't see why not.'

'As Mum would say, it's a funny old world,' said Robert, 'and all that sounds a bit like a soap opera.'

'We're a practical and - might I say - cheerful bunch, touched by the sun and surf of Queensland.'

Robert pursed his lips and said that he couldn't guarantee much in the way of cheer - or what he'd prefer to call it - realism. He asked Dinah if anyone else knew about Tasha and she said that it didn't seem relevant. He could keep it under his well-worn hat, she suggested.

A day or two later when Robert went to the lagoon beach near the township he was surprised to meet Min sitting on the sand watching some young men handling an outrigger canoe. She told him that they were her students who had invited her to try her hand at sailing one.

'It's not as easy as it looks apparently.'

The water was shallow and the boys were larking about paddling one at a time, a short distance without overturning. They beckoned Min to join them which she did while Robert sat on the sand pondering the spectacle. He asked himself if teaching was a more satisfying activity than doing what he was and if his maths and rudimentary chemistry would be welcome in the teaching body.

When Min finally fell into the water and merriment resulted he clapped his hands and walked up to the shoreline. He was wearing jeans and a white shirt which he threw onto the sand and he waded into the water. He was handed the paddle and someone held the outrigger as he climbed in; next thing he was paddling furiously and the boys splashed through the water after him. When they finally caught up with him laughing helplessly, they clapped him on the back and held up his arms as they had probably seen done to victors on television.

He rejoined Min and for the first time for a long while he felt relaxed and in tune with his surroundings. He told Min that they were a good bunch of students and she agreed and told him that she had decided to extend her contract for another year.

'A year just flies and it's hard to believe that we're in my fourth semester. Another two seem nothing and it means that I'll see one whole cohort enter and leave. Sort of tidy really.'

They talked about the Greenpeace ship and its implications and Min said she had asked Gerard and Yvonne what they thought. She understood that the policies of metropolitan France had little impact on their opinions. As long as the money flowed in, so be it. Robert said that as far as he knew New Caledonia was a very different place from Tahiti where the tests took place. They had nickel and indigenous Kanaks who had an up-hill struggle to get any sort of political recognition.

'Your boyfriend is a good sailor,' called one of the students as they dragged the canoe up on to the beach.

'You need to be better teachers,' laughed Min. 'I'm giving you two out of ten.'

The boys waved good-naturedly and Robert said, 'I think I can understand why you're staying another year.'

## Chapter 67

Since his marriage Yushi had reduced his English lessons and Min found that the regular arrangement with Yvonne was sufficient to fill up her week. Because Yushi was speaking English all the time at home he decided that he would study written English and that would depend on how much time he found to write. Min joked about his hectic home life and he admitted that having a wife kept him busy.

Soon after she arrived home one afternoon she heard a put-put sound and when she looked through the louvres there were both Yushi and Fanua, conjoined on the trusty little Yamaha. She went to the door and they waved cheerfully.

'It's great to see you two. How're things?'

'Fine. Fine. Are you busy?'

'Just the usual. I like an excuse to stop marking.' Min wondered if the visit had a specific purpose or was just a spontaneous gesture. She went to the cupboard for the whisky bottle but Yushi shook his head and explained that they had decided not to drink alcohol until after six o'clock.

'It is only four o'clock,' Fanua said primly.

'We have exciting news - is the word correct?' Yushi smiled confidently so Min ignored the question. Instead she quipped,

'That was quick work.'

Yushi didn't follow, but Fanua laughed.

'It is not a baby. It's a job.'

Yushi had heard about a tourism venture in Australia and they were looking for people who spoke Japanese and English to work there. The business was owned by Japanese and most of the tourists would probably come from Japan but there was an obvious need for interpreters. Fanua told Min that they were going to learn scuba diving and she wanted to become an instructor. Had they been offered a job?

'No - we have to go for interview,' said Yushi. 'To Australia,' he added enthusiastically.

Min said there would have to be a party soon because the end of the year was in sight and people would be leaving. She explained that she was staying on for another year but was thinking of going away during the Christmas break.

'We want to have a party at our place when we come back - if we've got the job.' Fanua sounded confident.

'When do you leave for the interview?'

'On Friday. We go through New Zealand. You can come with us.' Min laughed

'Fat chance.'

Yushi looked puzzled. Was "fat" good or bad?

'Take your pick,' Min teased, feeling a teeny bit mean. Sometimes these mini - moods swept over her for no reason and she would suddenly tire of explaining the idiosyncrasies of the language. An occupational hazard no doubt.

Min asked Fanua how her parents felt about her possibly going to live in Australia.

'They are pleased but they'd like us to come back some time of course. They can come and have a holiday with us and that makes it easier. The climate would be warmer than in New Zealand too. When they visit my auntie there they often have to wear padded jackets and my mother feels extra fat.' Fanua found the idea very amusing and Yushi said that perhaps "fat" is not so good.

'Everybody's going away and I will be the only person left of the people who came to our first party - do you remember Yushi?'

'Yes - and I remember smoking outside.' He looked at Fanua who gave him the thumbs up sign.

'Dinah and Robert are probably going to Queensland and Polly and Jim are thinking of Hawai'i. Michael's in Melbourne and now you're off. Heigh-ho. Eturasi and Semese will be staying put I imagine, but it won't be the same - they don't throw parties.'

'Is there anything we can bring back from our trip?' asked Fanua, and

Yushi endorsed the idea.

'Some duty-free whisky?' he suggested.

'That would be wonderful - I need a refill.' Min thought to herself what nice people they were and she would miss them.

'Say hello to old Enzed for me. It seems an age since I was there but I don't suppose it's changed. Except for that horrible thing in Auckland harbour - it must have upset everybody.'

Yushi bared his teeth and shook his head but said nothing and Min wished she hadn't mentioned it again. The trouble was she had it on her mind most of the time.

When the put-put had died away and she tried to concentrate on her work, she found herself distracted by the prospect of the next year when most of her friends had moved. She would have to make some new ones among the expatriates who would no doubt be arriving in the new year, but somehow it would not be the same. She would be an old hand as Robert and Dinah had been for her. There was something she would call "seasoned" about the veterans of a year or two and it was a state between naïve and cynical. She hoped she had reached that point and would resist the onset of jaded misanthropy.

The telephone rang and jolted her from her reverie. It was her mother asking her to come home because she was worried about her father.

## Chapter 68

The last few months of the year were going with depressing speed and Min hadn't organised a holiday as she had wanted to. Her mother's summons had destabilised her for a while until her father had rung to say that "Mother" had been worrying unnecessarily. When Min had sounded somewhat reluctant to down tools at such short notice her mother had reminded her that Charity Begins at Home which had made her bridle at the insinuation. Where was her home and was she doing charitable work? The word "home" particularly stuck in her craw and aroused old antipathies. First, she remembered how she had once overheard her father railing against her mother's charity which rode roughshod over his feelings and foisted lame ducks on the household. Second, the idea that that place was still her home when she had married and briefly set up her own, reduced her to imminent tears.

'You've only got one father,' her mother had told her in a shaky voice. When Min had asked what exactly the doctor had said her mother became hysterical and told her she couldn't talk to the doctor. This fear of doctors infuriated Min.

'As I've said over and over - they're human beings not bloody deities.' Her father had poured oil on the troubled waters by promising Min that he would keep her posted and in return, she said that she would come home over the Christmas break. She booked a return ticket within days. Yushi and Fanua returned from Australia with the news that they had got the job and were leaving within a month and Dinah and Robert were preparing to leave too.

The farewell party at Yushi's house gathered everyone together including Luatasi and Eturasi who seemed enthusiastic about Polly's further exploration of the Polynesian Pacific. He had an old friend at the University of Hawai'i who would be a good contact and was an interesting scholar of Maori culture.

Robert had struck a sizeable problem with the immigration department and was tempted to air his grievance as cautionary entertainment but thought better of it because he didn't want to spoil the genial spirit at what might be the last gathering of friends. Moreover it would probably embarrass Eturasi and Semese who could be put on the defensive. He hoped it would turn out to be a storm in a teacup and he would look back on the ludicrous situation and laugh.

In fact, when he had gone to get his exit visa for leaving the immigration officer sent to see the head of Customs. In all Robert's time in the country he had never met this man and this was unusual in such a small bureaucracy.

Robert stood mystified while the official rustled through some papers until he found the document he was looking for. Without engaging in eye contact he asked Robert about a consignment of hard wood which had been sent to New Zealand in his name. Robert's reaction was to hoot,

'What?' in a falsetto voice which elicited a brief glance from the officer. Then uninvited, he grabbed a chair and sat down heavily. Instead of answering, the man turned away and stared out of the window at the adjacent port as if to indicate that that was the scene of the crime. He twirled his pen meditatively and seemed to be waiting for Robert to succumb to silent pressure, while through his mind flashed the implications of not getting his clearance; he would possibly be trapped without Dinah who, fortunately for her had a different surname.

Finally he leant on the desk and asked what the evidence was for this unlikely state of affairs and was told that the customs department was informed of all the shipping business and the movements of goods.

'Obviously,' thought Robert, 'but so what!'

'If there were any truth in this preposterous suggestion why would I not have gone through official channels?'

'I don't know - you tell me!'

'No - you tell me.' Robert reminded himself that he must keep calm or he might incriminate himself further. It was a known tactic in some circles.

'And where is this timber at the moment?'

The phlegmatic person still playing with his pen, shrugged.

'On the way to New Zealand I suppose.'

Robert searched his memory for any time that he might have inadvertently incurred the wrath of someone further up the food chain, but nothing came to mind. Dinah might have some suggestions. The worst thing she said about him was that he was often a grumpy bugger. He was having trouble not resorting to that behaviour now, because the heat and the moving pen were making him feel sluggish.

'I'll have to speak to my lawyer and I'll get back to you.'

He ushered himself out of the stifling room and into the steaming oven of a November day.

'Jesus Fucking Christ,' he muttered as the thought came to him that this could be a way of extorting money from him. His lawyer was a fiction and he had no idea where to find one.

He thought of his mate Ekeroma in the department and wondered if he would still be there. He might be able to shed light on what had brought this about. He felt as if he were being sucked into quicksand.

'You're joking,' Ekeroma was incredulous but quietly amused. 'Innocent till proven guilty,' he intoned and Robert said,

'But it'll be their word against mine. And some shifty bastard might have used my name to export a consignment of rain forest timber. It'd be worth a lot of money.'

He humphed and rubbed his fingers over his creased forehead. And who was this "lawyer"?

'I know one who should be able to help.'

Ekeroma picked up the telephone but before he dialled, Robert asked who it was and if they were any good.

'Trust me.'

He managed to get through to someone and spoke in the local language for several minutes. Finally he noted down an address and telephone number and handed it to Robert saying that he had made an appointment for him the next morning.

## Chapter 69

Dinah wasn't home when Robert got there so he paced about trying to sort his thoughts into a logical order. But fury clouded his brain and all he could think of was that he might not get a clearance until he had paid someone somewhere or gone to court. He realised how little he knew of the judicial system here and whether bribes were standard practice. He had a hazy suspicion that there was a text as well as a sub text which might involve backhanders. He really had no experience of this part of society and all he knew was that his money was in the bank whenever he needed it and the mail got through. Any shortcomings like confiscation by customs, of parcels from overseas were simply examples of quaint local colour, so ,long as they weren't your parcels.

He was slumped in a chair staring straight ahead when Dinah came around the side of the house after her long wayward trip home on the bus. She always had an anecdote to relate after this brush with public transport and she was feeling particularly buoyant after picking up her latest assignment results from the Post Office and perusing its comments on the bus. When she saw Robert, she immediately sensed that something was wrong; he didn't stir and she thought he might be asleep. She sat quietly in a chair and looked at his drooping face. He slowly raised his eyes and said,

'Behold the criminal.'

Dinah was speechless for some time after Robert described his visit to immigration and the proposed visit to the lawyer but suddenly she jumped up and said,

'This is madness! Christ almighty - what's going on?'

'I've already enlisted Christ's support but it won't help - especially our sort of invocation.'

'Look - I'm coming to the lawyer's with you in the morning to hear what she's got to say.'

'At least you're in the clear with your Aussie passport and a different name.'

'Troo - but I can't go off and leave you to face some awful music on your own.'

Robert sniggered mirthlessly and said he didn't expect her to visit him in jail.

'Let's go out and get pissed. Might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb.'

Just as they were leaving, the phone rang and it was Min so Dinah gave her a brief résumé and asked her to join them in drowning their sorrows. Armed with wine and some pecans which she had wrenched from the zealous customs man, Min greeted Robert with a hug for the "accused", as Dinah called him.

'I think you need to call on the High Commission. After all, you're part of the aid package aren't you? They pay your salary don't they?'

'Sort of - but you know, this is the first time I've felt up against something I can't handle. It feels like being in one of Kafka's nightmare novels. Shit to the power of ten!'

They opened three bottles of wine and became more reckless as the night wore on. The pecans were hardly a buffer against the generous intake of alcohol and the only food left at the bar were some tiny airline peanut things. Absurdity began to take over and ideas of dark vengeance made them laugh raucously. Min had never seen Robert like this. It was as if a reservoir inside him had overflowed.

'If you go to jail,' slurred Min, 'you could write a best seller or relate your memoirs at every dinner party for all time.'

She almost fell off her chair at the idea.

'Let's hope this is a monumental piece of bluff and in the end it will have sorted itself out miraculously,' she added optimistically.

The bar people were closing and looking in the direction of the last patrons who were loud and banging the table. They had certainly downed a lot of wine and the entire stock of snacks. Dinah noticed that they were holding things up for the polite workers so she stood up and took hold of Robert's arm.

'Come on - we'll need clear heads in the morning.' She was worried that Robert would do something uncharacteristic, so desperate he seemed to feel.

Min gave him another hug and asked to be kept in the loop. She had forgotten to tell them that she had booked to go to New Zealand at Christmas. She had expected them to be gone by then of course.

The next morning when they met the lawyer they were both struck by her serene loveliness which was in contrast to their frazzlement. Dinah was glad that she had accompanied Robert because he could well be distracted, she thought to herself. The young woman was very business- like and got straight to the obvious question.

'Were you shown a copy of the bill of lading for the timber with your name on it?'

Robert had to admit that it hadn't occurred to him to ask for a copy of one of those. How obvious. He felt incompetent and slightly embarrassed but Dinah came to his rescue and pointed out that he had been in shock. There was no comment from the cool professional and Robert felt even more inept. His confidence was well on the wane and when he was told to go to the immigration office again and this time to ask for specific evidence, he wasn't sure that he could keep his cool. However he refused the lawyer's offer to go with him and thought that a good night's sleep might be all he needed. He had quite a hangover at this point but had no regrets about the mini bacchanal of the previous night. A lot of repressed sentiments had been aired in the safe company of intimate friends.

## Chapter 70

The staff at the college were appreciative of Gerard's morning teas and because the prices were very reasonable he usually sold out. He was discreet when he and Min negotiated a sale and she began to think that their intimacy had been a flash in the pan. Perhaps he had found a local woman who was more compliant and less talkative. After all, language was not an essential feature of coupling.

One afternoon however, when Min arrived home his van was parked outside the house but he was nowhere to be seen. Her imagination ran to thinking that his new amour lived nearby and he needed a decoy spot to park. She was vaguely puzzling this out when he came rushing up behind her as she unlocked her door and put his arms around her neck without a word. She called out as she turned around to see him laughing merrily at the joke which he was enjoying and which made her very angry.

'What the bloody hell do you think you're doing you importunate frog?'

she hissed in English.

'I give you a nice surprise - non?' he pouted theatrically as he let his arms go limp.

'No - you gave me one helluva fright,' she panted.

'Let me feel your heart,' he said in French as he tried to put his open hand over her chest. She slapped at it and went to the table to put her bag down. Then she turned to face the incorrigible visitor who stood at some distance smiling with false contrition and she laughed in spite of herself, mollified by the language. "Ton coeur" sounded so much more seductive than "your heart".

Gerard, detecting the thaw he was counting on walked over and took her hand, kissing it with a great smack before leading her to her inhospitable couch. They sat down and he explained that Yvonne did not want him to go out at night now that he had completed his land transactions and the café was so busy these days that they were both needed all the time.

'Monique does not sleep much during the day so Yvonne has to keep her occupied in the café. Dinah comes sometimes to watch her and my wife can have time to do some housework.'

'Poor Yvonne - why don't you find a house girl to do the chores?'

Gerard thought that was a good idea and asked Min if she knew anybody trustworthy and Min suggested that he ask at the college.

There was a lapse in the conversation and Min pursed her lips and looked sideways at Gerard whose fixed smile reminded her of a basking predator savouring the moment before attack. She jumped up and went to the kitchen to get some glasses. She gave her armpits a sneaky sniff and decided that she would take a shower before any love-making happened. Gerard had gone to the small sideboard to find the alcohol and was appalled to find that all that was in there was one bottle of New Zealand sauvignon blanc which was left over from when Rowan McInerney had sold her his car.

'Don't be such a francocentric wine drinker. You're living in the south Pacific where the new world wines are very good.'

'But why do you use French names? You should invent your own because it is France which made the wine famous.'

'Well - maybe we will before long. But if it's the name of the grape variety - p'raps that's a problem.'

Gerard took a guarded sip and Min waited to hear his denunciation but perhaps he realised that an argument would be counter-productive to his plans, so he made a surprised face and took a second more normal one.

'Not bad,' he conceded and Min just looked at him with a stony face waiting for further comment. He put the glass down on the floor and then took her glass and did the same and she knew that the ritual had begun.

'I need a shower,' she said and he smiled as if to say, 'I know the drill.' After he had gone home Min sat down and tried to recall a witty little quatrain she had once heard when some British person was lamenting the putative superiority of the French in all things gastronomical. It took her a while before it came back to her and she wrote it in her diary.

"The French have taste in all they do, Which we are quite without.

The Lord Who, to the French gave goût,

To us gave only gout" - or something like that.

Would Gerard appreciate this ironical offering if she copied it for him? Michael would have loved it of course.

## Chapter 71

The news of Robert's "crime" had started to circulate in the town and he thought people were looking askance at him as he did his shopping at the market but Dinah said it was his subliminal paranoia coming to the surface. She had applied for her exit visa and was hoping that Robert's would soon be sorted out.

In the meantime he went to the High Commission to get advice pending his return to the immigration office. He was surprised to find that the consular officer looked too young to be a diplomatic representative with his blond quiff and unworn, serrated teeth. He put out his small hand and introduced himself as Barnaby and Robert thought he saw him wince when he returned the handshake with the force of experience.

'Is this your first posting?'

'Yes - why?'

'No particular reason,' Robert prevaricated.

It was not long before his suspicions were confirmed (pretentious handle, for a start, he remarked to Dinah later) and it was clear that our man/boy was cloaked in the mantle of political correctness of "White legs bad, brown legs good". This working principle put Robert at a disadvantage so he wondered if he would get any help from this quarter. It was bad luck to encounter such a new chum whose ears needed a good towelling, he thought ruefully.

'If this charge has no foundation why would anybody try and make it stick?'

'I suggest you put the word bribery into your lexicon old chap,' Robert sounded tired.

'I'd rather not think like that,' said Barnaby reproachfully as if fending off temptation.

Robert shrugged and said he'd try and sort things out himself.

'See ya mate,' he said colloquially, 'I hope someone will visit me in the cooler.'

He needed a good strong coffee so he walked around the beachfront to the French café which was now very popular even though it was not on the main thoroughfare. Polly was sitting by the window reading a letter so he sat down to bore her with the details of his story. She asked how Dinah was feeling.

'She's her usual positive self but she's started the ball rolling for leaving - on her own if necessary.'

'That's too bad. Surely it won't come to that,' Polly's genuine sympathy clashed with her new rather cheeky look.

'I like your new hairstyle. It really suits you.'

Polly grimaced. 'Thank you - Jim hates it. He's wrapped my ponytail in tissue - can you believe it? Maybe there's a market somewhere for blond ponytails.'

Robert described his unavailing visit to the High Commission and she said she hoped they would be spared this do-it-yourself battle with the administration. The Peace Corps did all that thank goodness.

'Are you serious about going to Hawai'i?'

'Yeah - I think so. I do want to see more of the Pacific but I'll miss this place. It's been such a different experience from what I expected.'

'What did you expect?'

'You know - I can't really remember now that you ask me straight out. I think memory's like that - you forget your imaginary picture of a place once you've seen the reality.'

She said she had just been reading a letter from home asking her to come back for Christmas. Her family made a big deal of it but she wasn't keen to spend the money for a short time.

'Maybe I'll offer them a trip to Hawai'i as a peace offering - if we make it.'

She thanked Jim for the coffee refill and left, while he sat and contemplated his next move. He would have to adjust his mood for the next interview so that he kept his cool and rolled with the punches. He was about to leave when Yvonne came to say hello. They shook hands and she sat down to tell him that it was great to have Dinah to discuss early childhood behaviour with. As she said,

'Eet's not easy the first time you know.'

Little Monique toddled over to her mother's side and looked shyly at

Robert.

'Dis bonjour au monsieur,' Yvonne cajoled but the child simply stared. Yvonne said,

'You see - they don't always oblige, but Dinah says it is not too important at this age.'

Robert smiled and said hello in what he thought was the correct tone but the child continued to stare. He thought to himself how unnerving that unblinking gaze can be or was it his present insecurity which made him feel exposed? He realised how unused he was to the company of children except at a distance as he saw them here. The local kids did a great line in staring too.

On the way home he made up his mind to toughen up and get his life into perspective. Perhaps there would be a satisfactory outcome to this comedy and if he could see it like that, it might become manageable.

## Chapter 72

She was travelling on a very fast train trying to look at the scenery but all she could see was a blur of drab colours which made her feel as if her eyeballs were being sucked out of her head. She began to feel nauseated and gradually the idea that she must find the bathroom grew stronger.

Then she felt the sheet pulled from her body and she woke up just in time to rush to the john and empty the contents of her stomach. Her eyes watered and her nose ran with the effort and Jim called,

'Are you all right?'

'Just fine,' she said as she appeared at the door mopping her face. 'Just fine.'

Polly tried to remember what she had eaten the night before and she thought of the shrimp cocktail at the hotel which had looked dodgy but she had been starving so she went for it. So did Jim and all the others so maybe he'd be next. She asked him to get her some boiled water from the refrigerator.

'The salmon mousse,' he said as he handed it to her. 'Mr Death at your service.'

She glowered and took a gulp of water and lay down. She was in no mood for Monty Python.

'I'm not going to work - could you call in on your way and tell them I'm sick. They won't mind.' That was the great thing - her workmates had work/life balance down to a T.

When Jim cycled off she turned on her side and fell into a sound sleep. It was early afternoon when she woke and she felt hungry. She cut herself some papaya, her favourite fruit which had come from Eturasi's tree. It was food for the gods with its light orange flesh and abundant black seeds tucked inside, a promise of future delights.

Jim came home with some lunch from Gerard's café and was pleased to see that she had recovered. In a sepulchral voice he sang,

'The tuna cocktail,' and Polly burst out laughing and put her hands over her ears.

'Please don't,' she begged, 'or it'll start all over again.' Jim whispered the words again and pointed with a bony finger.

Then they both laughed as they recalled The Meaning of Life when a bunch of American tourists all die from eating salmon mousse and are

led to their fate by the Grim Reaper appropriately equipped with a scythe. They enjoyed some other hilarious bits of the film they'd seen not long before they left home and as they quietened down Jim said solemnly,

'Perhaps you're pregnant!'

Polly gasped and groaned 'Not again,' but the next morning she was sick again after another strange dream. This time she was surrounded by tiny little figures who had gathered around her, badgering for something she couldn't remember. She flopped back into the bed and sighed with resignation.

'Oh, God - here we go again. What'll we do? Maybe we'll have to go home.'

'I think we see a doctor. There are doctors here you know.'

Polly said she needed to talk to her mother but Jim said that she would insist on her returning to California and Polly agreed.

'I've been getting used to the idea of Hawai'i too and now this happens.' They lay under the sheet contemplating all the implications of this advent. Jim was tempted to ask if he could claim the honours this time but he was sure he could so it would be an indelicate question. Polly was thinking about her relationship with her mother and how much she did want to tell her but how much she would not want her advice.

'It's occurred to me that we're up against a microscopic opportunist and perhaps we should applaud that. Have you thought of that?' Jim was so impressed by his insight that he turned to Polly and hugged her. She was not impressed however and had a defensive reaction on behalf of the zygote inside her.

'What an unsentimental person you are James. Anyway, you're ignoring our contribution to this state of affairs by your choice of language.' Polly sat up on the side of the bed wondering if she'd go to work later.

Jim got up and punched the air a couple of times on his way to the bathroom and Polly smiled a reduced smile; he was pretty pleased and unwilling to say so.

It was a week or so before the pregnancy was confirmed and in the meantime Polly started every day with the ritual purging of the evening meal. Her late starts at the office aroused nothing more than the customary eyebrow acknowledgements and she didn't resort to Jim's suggestion that she say that they had someone staying with them. It was this sort of humour she realised that was cementing their relationship.

She wrote to her mother and got the inevitable question in reply. Did they plan to marry? Luckily Polly's sister's marriage plans were in train and would deflect the interest in her lack of motivation to spend money on a wedding. She chuckled when Jim said he expected a dowry instead.

'Who's the real opportunist would you say?' Polly hugged him and felt reassured that things would work out.

## Chapter 73

Although nothing was said or hinted at, Michael thought it was time he spared his friend the bleakness of his company unengaged as he was in life around him. He said he would return to the backpackers' hostel and there was only a lame attempt to dissuade him. Michael felt the significance and understood.

He had already had two consultations with the doctor who had been recommended and had found him empathetic and articulate. Insofar as any one person can intuit the beliefs and consequent existence of another this man was able to tease out many of the strands which contributed to Michael's present mental state. There was no power imbalance either because it was not a case of expert and disciple. His empathy in regard to Michael's central dilemma was consoling without diminishing the gravity of the situation. It was decided that talking therapy would be better than medication and Michael agreed; he wanted to stay on the path he had become familiar with in spite of the pain and until there was finality.

Christmas was not far away and the summer was heating up. The discordant hype of a season born of one hemisphere and transferred to its antipodes tended to sharpen Michael's sense of alienation. When he was a child the synthetic snow and plastic holly thrilled him with promises of booty but now he questioned the part played by such factitious trappings and religion in forming his young mind. There were plenty of cheerful survivors however, so what made him different?

On his way to the hostel he called into one of his childhood haunts. It was a busy market and near the end of the day cheap auctions would be held. The combined smells of the place sent him spiralling back to his weekly visits with his mother to get provisions and to his fear of getting lost in the forest of adult legs. He had longed for the day when he would be able to choose his favourite treats without having to pester someone else for the pleasure. That day had come and with it, disappointment.

He sat on a low wall outside the market and took off his backpack. Little had changed. He could see his mother in her old coat and hat which she seemed to wear for years. He saw her shopping trolley beside her full of healthy fruit and vegetables. He was eating his fantastic ice cream while she smoked a cigarette to which his father objected at home so they were both wallowing in their treat time. Poor Mum, he thought; she probably had to ask for the money to spend on the food but he was as unaware of her problems as he was now aware of his own.

He remembered a girl behind the sausage counter in the old white-tiled food hall where they always bought some of the spicy versions cooked by her Italian parents. She and her brother were young and good- looking while their parents were raddled by hard work and the meridian sun of their homeland. He had a sudden impulse to visit the booth where these people earned what was probably a good living, to see if they were still there and recognisable.

He walked to the hall entrance and through the coloured plastic strips, which he had always found tacky and along the worn floor to where he could observe without buying. He noticed that some of the former booths of European food were now selling Asian delicacies but she was still there! In a series of glances he saw her hair now greying under the characteristic scarf, and her slightly thicker neck. There was a man of about the same age who, Michael presumed, was her husband and not the brother he remembered. He stood with his back to the counter opposite and read their perennial list of smallgoods in between snatching a look at the busy pair. He felt as if he was witnessing contentment with life shaped by the inexorable demands of continuity. And would her parents be basking in the future they had imagined when they set out for the new world?

As he walked away he wondered if he fitted the definition of mentally ill or was he simply made restless by knowledge of life's possibilities. The old stereotype of mental illness and its accoutrements of strait jackets and shoes without laces might be based on a narrow understanding of human responses to the world. Pharmaceutical drugs used to stupefy and sequester solved the problem short term for the majority. As for Michael he was sure that he was responding to an ontological shift in his perceptions which caused him to ask deeper questions. One question he wrestled with was why in Judeo-Christianity was it such an original sin to want to eat the fruit of the tree of knowledge? Why was humanity endowed with a thirst for knowledge which, according to the story of Eden, was its undoing? Following the logic of this theory the human species was inherently damned.

With similar reflections scurrying around in his head he made his way through the outer market where the ground was littered with the detritus of fruit and vegetables. Already the busy stall holders were packing and sweeping in readiness for another day of buying and selling. This industry had a momentum all of its own. He managed to buy a bunch of bananas for a rock bottom price and he ate two to pump up his energy level. He should have bought some sausages but he had been too shy to risk recognition.

At the hostel there was a group of German tourists poring over a map of the state. After a while one of them asked if he could give them any advice about where to go in the hinterland and he said that he was thinking of going into the mountains; in fact he had not formulated any ideas of where to spend some time before the hearing with the Medical Council, so it was a surprise to hear himself specify a place. There was something about mountains which attracted him and he was able to sound genuine in his recommendation. They thanked him politely and continued their discussion.

## Chapter 74

The stifling air of the immigration office and the incessant rain sheets hitting the open louvre windows were taking their toll on Robert's resolution to stay calm. Dinah's exit visa had been granted after completing the usual formalities so she wanted to book her ticket and she urged him to try and sort out his problem.

He was about to confront the immigration officer again and was hoping that the customs mystery had been "solved" after his request to see a copy of the bill of lading which they had not produced on the spot. He and Dinah agreed to find out what it would cost to obtain the exit visa and 'to hell with it,' she said.

When the office door opened and a stout petitioner came out Robert's heart gave a small thump of expectation and he organised a bland smile on his face. The door had been left ajar so any minute the immigration officer would appear to usher him in. He was the only person in the waiting area. Minutes ticked by and the relentless drumming of the rain filled the room while his facial muscles began to resume their customary position and his smile faded. What was the fucker doing? Writing a case history? Preparing a submission for the minister?

Robert started to drum his fingers on his knees and he cleared his throat loudly to compete with the rain. Nothing. No thing. Bugger. Dinah would be waiting in the library reading some historic gossip in their ancient magazines and getting restless. He got up to knock on the door and noticed through the hinge crack that the desk was vacant. Strange. He looked around the door and there on a woven mat was the officer sleeping soundly, his face resting on one hand.

'Blimey,' said Robert under his breath and he suddenly felt tolerant all over. That was one of the charms of the place - to understand that physical needs should be met as is, where is, so to speak. There was something passive and unthreatening about the sleeper too. Another case of mañana he thought, as he walked down the rickety staircase and out into the rain.

His story reminded Dinah of an incident she had seen once when shopping at the market and she told Robert he should have tried the same tactic.

'I wanted a particular item from one of the stalls but the woman in charge was sound asleep and as I stood for a moment of indecision the adjacent woman stall-holder who seemed to be amused, biffed a lettuce at her head and woke the poor soul up. Haven't I ever told you? It was the funniest thing because both women cackled like harpies and there were no hard feelings it seemed. Can you imagine that happening at home?'

Robert laughed at the thought and said it probably wouldn't have helped his cause in this case.

They stood in the doorway of the library wishing the rain would stop. As Dinah began to put up her umbrella Robert put his hand on her arm.

'Look - I think you at least should book your ticket and we'll see how things work out for me. Come to think of it - it would be easier if you packed up first and then I disposed of the rest of our belongings.'

'OK - if that's what you want. It's no big deal if we leave a couple of weeks apart. In a way it would make life easier - for me, anyway.' She gave him a damp kiss and told him she'd be 'troo.' He always liked the way she said that word.

They half ran under the one umbrella to the airline office a block away. All the booking clerks were busy so they sat down to wait and looked at each other fondly for the first time for as long as he could remember. He would miss the girl and would do all he could to be reunited even if it had to be in Australia.

While Dinah was making her travel arrangements he took out his diary to peruse dates. It occurred to him that the cargo of timber should have arrived at its destination by now and that would be his first question to the officer when he made his next trip to the holy of holies. He noted what he was doing around the time he was supposed to have been exporting the stuff and he thought it would be a good idea to ask Ekeroma to confirm his alibi. After all they saw each other almost every day except when he escorted his replacement number to introduce him to the Big Island. Ekeroma for a reason Robert was not privy to, seemed fairly sanguine about his chances of proving his innocence and that gave him comfort.

'What a good bloke he is - I'll miss him, come to think of it.' His thoughts were interrupted by Dinah asking him to confirm the date she had chosen. It was strange how their way of life for so long, was coming to an end with a sort of inevitability which had overtaken them. First, it was Michael/Lucky - man of mystery - then Polly and Jim, furthering their Pacific odyssey, Yushi and Fanua, a two-person melting pot off to serve in a Japanese tourist ghetto and now Dinah minus Robert, back to her familiar territory to develop the relationship with her niece/daughter. That left Min the stalwart loner who had chosen to hang in and see a cohort of students graduate. Funny how she and Michael had seemed like two sides of the same coin, Dinah said. Cerebral products of that strange phenomenon called Irish Catholicism, Robert told her. Right? Right!

Dinah turned to smile as the clerk was filling out the ticket and Robert felt his appreciation of her mane of blond hair and slim body, sharpen. How often he'd looked at her without really seeing her. When she sat down beside him with her ticket in her hand he kissed her.

'It's not goodbye yet,' she said as she patted his knee and stood up. It was then that she noticed that there were tears in his eyes and she stroked his cheek and said he needed a nice strong drink.

'And a very nice fuck,' she muttered through a pursed mouth. He blew his nose, cleared his throat and growled,

'Earthy Sheila,' as they walked out into the warm and endless rain.

## Chapter 75

The regular downpours and the sticky heat were a reason for frequent plunges into the sea to cool off at the interface between the fresh and the salt water. Perfunctory attention to artifice in matters of grooming released Min's energy for relaxed physical activity. During his delivery visits to the college Gerard often arranged to meet her later at the lagoon and although negotiations were in French, Min was tense with embarrassment feeling sure that his meaning would be clear to any onlookers. He however, revelled in his blatancy.

Her ligatures of guilt were loosening thanks to the ludic nature of their encounters. They had found a sheltered and unfrequented area where they could risk speedy skinny dipping which was spiced by breaking a double taboo. Min found Gerard inventive and frivolous in the water which was a medium she was not very adventurous in and she rationalised their friendship as therapy. She often wondered how he interpreted their connivance but for her it was about innocent playfulness. Had they taken themselves more seriously guilt might have interposed itself between the fun and her conscience.

She thought often about Michael and wondered if their relationship could have developed if they had been able to shed their inhibitions mutually. He had not been in touch since she had made her decision to stay on and she regretted his not knowing. But her overriding feeling for him was concern for his welfare. If only she had a contact address and why was he unable to give her some connection, no matter how tenuous?

A side-effect of her encounters with Gerard was increasing fluency in colloquial French to the point where she sometimes dreamed in the language. She had told Gerard who had assumed that her dreams were wildly erotic and when she recounted one that she could clearly remember, he pronounced her boringly prosaic. She countered by telling him that she had a taste for narrative.

She was travelling on a train in France and she had not punched her ticket in the platform machine to print date and time so when the ticket collector saw this omission he told her she had incurred a fine. Her claim to being a non French- speaking tourist was rejected in spite of her gesticulations and pleas and then she began to speak in French to try and help her cause. The dream had ended when she was surrounded by other passengers who were explaining in a righteous chorus, that it was the LAW.

'You lack fantasy,' Gerard had told her. 'New Zealand must be a very prosaic place.'

Why she endured his constant cultural put-downs she had no idea. Was it a case of her incurable francophilia? Something gave him what she called a licence to strut and she came to the conclusion that he might be compensating for his shortish stature. This explanation would do in the meantime.

One afternoon when she called into a petrol station on her way home from her swim she saw Robert talking to the manager. He saw her and gave his trademark salute. Her salty rats' tails made her feel ugly.

'You look frisky,' he said. 'What have you been up to?' She blushed slightly and said it was obvious.

'More to the point - have you got your exit visa?'

He told her that his illegal export business had been dropped for want of evidence and once he had sold his van he'd be leaving. He was trying to do a deal with the petrol station owner.

'Tell you what - when you've finished come to my place and fill me in on the details. I'll take a shower meantime and we'll have a cup of tea.'

First, he described the abortive meeting with the sleeper and then said that his third visit to the office had been quite an anti-climax. He told the officer how he had avoided waking him a few days' before and this was a bit of a circuit-breaker, because said officer laughed and sat down to shuffle paper on his desk while he chuckled every so often. When he finally found a single sheet duly stamped from what Robert could see, he read it briefly and then looked up and said that when the ship docked in Auckland the name on the bill of lading was not Robert's and therefore it was a case of mistaken identity. Robert would have liked to know whose name it was but chose discretion in the circumstances.

'So I asked him when I'd get my exit visa because we were booked to leave in ten days' time and he said I'd need to come back in a couple more days.'

'What? Is that true?' Min sounded doubtful.

'Well, not quite. Dinah is booked but I've been waiting and we decided that I'd pack up after she's gone and follow in a couple of weeks after that. Y'know I feel like a dog who's been following a bone on a string and I won't relax till I hear those plane wheels sucked into the wheel housing.' Robert shook his head slowly. Min was sympathetic.

'I hope I don't have to go through this at the end of next year. Did

Dinah have any hassles?'

'No - after all she's blond and perhaps Aussies get a smoother ride - I

dunno.'

'You mean their aid cheque's bigger?' Robert told Min about Barnaby at the High Commission and she said 'Ugh. He must have replaced Ronan McInerney and be living among the bougainvillea on yonder hill.'

Their mutual understanding was very comforting and when Robert was on his way home he recalled how Min had changed and become quite cynical. He wondered if she realised.

'I should have asked her if I could borrow her car when I sell the van,' he thought. He was sure she'd say yes - she was a good sort and they seemed to understand each other.

## Chapter 76

Jim thought he noticed a change in Polly's attitude to marriage after she had received her mother's letter insofar as she often mentioned her sister's up-coming wedding. Finally he pointed this out to her and she was surprised at first but after some thought she admitted that she was thinking about the subject more these days. Her parents would not consider it proper if they married in a weird and wonderful place which they had no idea of. Jim said that was the nub of the issue - was marriage an event of more cultural significance than a sign of commitment?

'After all a quasi-religious commitment can take place anywhere surely?' The subject kept intruding into their conversations so it sounded quite logical when Jim said one night after particularly flagrant delight, as he called it,

'Let's beat your sister to it and get married. The folks might object but it will be too late.' Polly didn't think they would after all and she said,

'Yeah! Let's!' She added, after a moment that it would be a good excuse to say a last goodbye to Dinah and Robert as well as to Yushi and Fanua. Just a plighting of troth on the beach and a champagne knees-up back at the house would be nice for everybody. She'd ask Min and Robert to be witnesses.

She asked Min to wear a coronet of frangipani and she wanted Eturasi to be the celebrant. He declined because secular weddings were extraordinary in his culture and he suggested instead someone from the Peace Corps. Jim was sorry that it wouldn't be a truly local affair but he understood and arranged the Country Director to coordinate things. Polly said the hardest part was to pick a time when it wasn't pouring with rain. So far no one else knew about the pregnancy because as Polly said she wanted the ceremony to stand on its own rather than look like an act of social necessity. Min asked Semese if he had any idea if they could get in touch with Michael but he said he hadn't heard a thing. Jim wanted a poetry reading and he asked Min for some ideas. In default of a copy of Shakespeare's sonnets she said that one of her students wrote some good poetry. He thought that was a great idea so Min arranged a meeting and Polly asked if one of the poems could be read in the local language. Of course. There were several excellent guitarists available and Jim requested the tune they had heard on that magical evening up at the poet's grave, way back in the beginning.

Although all the arrangements were made in haste because some of the friends were on the verge of leaving, it was a jolly affair fitted in fortuitously between showers. "No shoes" was a general request which everyone observed and the variety of colourful lava lavas along with perfumed leis woven by Fanua and her mother made them feel like celebrities, Jim told the gathering. Somewhere Over the Rainbow was the anthem which nearly everybody knew - even Yushi - and it was sung several times with Semese and Eturasi spontaneously providing a rich bass counterpoint. Polly was moved to tears and as she went round the friends and thanked them for making her day she asked for everyone's address. They would receive a photo souvenir if Robert's camera worked in the overcast conditions.

No sooner had they all returned to Polly and Jim's house than the heavens opened briefly and rain came in torrents. Gerard and Yvonne with little Monique were already there and had spread out lots of French baguettes cheese and salads. Polly put her coronet on the Monique's head and she went around the company telling everyone in French that she was a bride. Gerard regretted that there was no "champagne" (too dear he said) but the "vin mousseux" from Australia was not bad. He looked at Min who lifted one eyebrow ever so slightly.

She had mixed emotions about the day remembering her own wedding ceremony which had caused such friction. Polly and Jim had stumbled on the ideal she thought - to avoid the political machinations of family interest groups and just to have a unique communal rite surrounded by well-wishers. It would be remembered for the right reasons. She stayed after everybody else had left and confessed to them how much more she had enjoyed their wedding than her own. It was then that Jim realised how little they all knew about each other's past lives and the stresses which for most, were inevitable. When Michael's name came up Min was careful to honour her promise to him to respect his confidence; when Jim hinted that their highly successful wedding formula should be repeated Min agreed with a smile.

Going back to her temporary home that night Min felt an acute loneliness for the first time since her early months in the new environment. How much she would have liked to end the day with Michael just as everybody else was returning to their place feeling the glow of contentment, she thought. There were times when she appreciated her solitude for the time and flexibility it gave her to think and to act but this was not one of those times so when she got home, she picked up the phone and rang her parents. They would be in bed probably and might think it was bad news but that would be a momentary thing. (They thought that any telephone call after nine o'clock at night was bad news.)

'Heelloo' Her father's voice did sound sleepy.

'Hi dad. It's me - Min.'

'Has something happened, Min dear?'

'I've just got back from a fabulous wedding. I just called to say hello.'

Her father took a while to understand that it was not her wedding and her mother took the receiver from him so she started all over again to explain why she had rung. She was sorry that she had disturbed them and when she put the phone down she burst into tears. There was no comfort to be had anywhere and even the stars were unavailable, behind the rain-laden clouds.

## Chapter 77

Michael stood and watched the fountain playing in the Exhibition Gardens and tried to recapture the phantom optimism of his earlier days when as a student he had often gone to read over his notes before an examination. The tranquil setting in the heart of the throbbing city used to reset his perspective while the hospital nearby stimulated his commitment to understanding and alleviating illness and misery. Now when he looked over at the unadorned façade of what was a squat cube baking in the sun he could think only of a lost ambition thwarted by a misguided act of mercy and of the many patients lying there with hope and trust in the power of medicine to relieve them. He felt deeply conscious of the weight of suffering and went further still to consider the symbiosis between that and the elevated social status of the doctors. He had travelled a road from idealism to cynicism in a few short years and now he was at the end of that road.

How proud his parents had been when he graduated even though his mother had been shocked when she realised that he no longer went to church. She refused to listen to his reasons and reproved him for rejecting the faith that his forebears had suffered fire and sword to defend. When his father died from a heart attack she asked him why he had not seen the symptoms in time and the rift which had developed was not healed before she died about a year later.

His last visit to his lawyer had been particularly discouraging and all he could do now was wait and then suffer the scrutiny of the medical council. His lawyer was in a very difficult position and had to prepare a brief based on motives with which he agreed as a private citizen but which he knew the council would disavow as a plea in mitigation. It was an open and shut case for them and Michael faced being struck off the register of practitioners and a possible prison sentence.

On his way home from the lawyer's office he visited the tourist office to find out about transport to and accommodation in the mountains. There were plenty of options. Escape from the heat and hysteria to the cool sanity of untrammelled heights was for him a staging post, so that he could to some extent blot out what lay ahead. More and more he was feeling like a tourist among the other travellers in the hostel but the difference was that he had no other home to return to. Unlike them too, he had become obsessed by the well-heeled tribes of his home town who nestled into the bedrock of wealth as much as the town itself was bedded into its basalt geology. A concordat had been established between these two and was maintained by strong family ties, religious and political affiliation, allegiance to manic sports teams and infinite plenty. His exclusion was as complete as his disillusion was pathological. Two days before he was to leave for the bus trip he once again overheard some of his fellow hostellers talking - this time about a cyclone in the Pacific. The young people who were interested, apparently had plans to visit some of the islands which from their European perspective were in the neighbourhood. The source of the information was a very brief reference on the television news to a warning which had been put out by the meteorological office in Fiji.

He thought of making a phone call to Min but because there was nothing he could do what was the point? He would at least try to keep track of what was happening. While he was living in his special island he knew that cyclones were a potential danger to the fragile land masses dotted around the vast ocean; but he also knew that their relative size reduced the risk from these perennial furies. He had even been told that collective prayer had once deflected an approaching cyclone and he wondered if the devout were being rallied to action this time. He hoped so and wished that he could be there with his friends. If only he could believe in prayer...

The general bustle in the communal kitchen was in full swing so he lay down on his bunk to wait for a gap in proceedings. He stared at the whitish ceiling and found himself on a dazzling white staircase which stretched upwards as far as his eye could see. He was slowly and arduously climbing with groups of what looked like pilgrims because of their heavy all-enveloping cloaks. They, unlike him, had stout staffs to support them and he felt denied entitlement. Each time he looked up there was no end in sight and it felt as if this journey was endless. An awful heat emanated from the staircase itself but there was no sun - only stars pricking a black void overhead. The feeling of interminable trudging in increasing heat reached a point where he screamed, begging for relief...

He woke himself up and noticed that it was dark and quiet; he wondered if anybody had heard him yell so he waited a while. When there was no reaction he got up to get some cheese and cracker biscuits in what was a clean orderly kitchen. The dream - or nightmare - had disturbed him but he was rested and thought he'd go for a walk in the quiet sleeping city. Even the everlastingly clanging trams were silent.

To his surprise, a few blocks away there were lights on in the porch and front room of a tiny house behind an iron fretwork and he could see people sitting sedately at tables. There was a strong odour of coffee which was impossible to resist. He tried the front door, found it unlocked and so stepped inside and was confronted by a young woman with an apron around her waist.

'Are you open?' he asked fatuously and looked apologetic. He had no idea of the time.

'Sure,' she said breezily for what seemed like the middle of the night.

'What would you like sir?'

He sat down to the best cup of coffee since Gerard's brew and several delicious little biscotti. It seemed as if he had stumbled on a surreal oasis of light in a black landscape and he was comforted by the ordinariness of the surroundings. When he was asked if he wanted more coffee he told the young woman that this unexpected fortune might be a hallucination. She laughed and explained simply that the rooms were part of her house and she usually stayed open as long as she had customers.

She would never know of course what a blessing she had bestowed on this discalced stranger wandering among the elect without a wedding garment. Reluctantly, he stood up and walked into the night.

## Chapter 78

For several days, all the talk in the town had been about a cyclone hovering in the vicinity of the islands but the weather was heavy and still. Eturasi was trying to keep up to date by calling the weather bureau in Fiji but they were unable to predict with any certainty what the trajectory of the weather pattern would be. As soon as the most likely one emerged they would put out a more specific warning.

It crossed Eturasi's mind to book a flight for New Zealand for the family but his misgivings about that course of action included a sense of responsibility to ride out any untoward event in a spirit of collective endurance. There was an element of curiosity in his decision to stay behind also as his only memory of a cyclone was of the divine hand deflecting the storm when he was a small boy. He could remember how his parents gave thanks and he thought then, that all future calamities could be avoided by prayer. Not so now, unfortunately.

Robert, left behind to attend to his last business matters was smitten with foreboding at what he was sure was inevitable. He wished Dinah were still with him with her indomitable optimism which, he had to admit had started to wear thin in the days before she left. Perhaps optimists were that way because they were blessed with good timing, he mused. There had been an uncharacteristic outburst when she had found that one of her suitcase locks had rusted in the humidity and wouldn't open. He, a recent convert to zen-like acceptance of what was to him a minor problem, had held Dinah's wrists while she had screeched like a banshee saying she'd never get away. He said CRC would fix the problem but she yelled,

'And where the fuck do we find such a thing in this godforsaken dump at this time of night?'

The soul of tranquillity calmly told her that she was panicking and that would solve nothing. He would go to his office and he was sure he'd find something there. He told her to sit down and he'd make her a cup of tea.

'Anyway, I bet Jim's got something - Americans are usually armed to the teeth for every contingency. I bet you a bottle of plonk that I come back with the solution. Ha Ha.'

There was nothing in the office and Jim regretted fulsomely that he wasn't a handyman. When Polly heard what the problem was she offered to swap one of her valises and they'd sort out the lock later. So Robert, Polly and Jim armed with the bottle of plonk (also borrowed from Jim) and a newish suitcase, turned up at Dinah's about an hour later. She was surrounded by what she called a mountain of stuff and when she saw Polly's valise she said it was quite wrong to exchange it for her much travelled thing. She was finally talked round by Polly who said that at least she'd look like a seasoned traveller with Dinah's valise.

As they drank a glass of wine and in Polly's case, some soda pop, Dinah made them laugh by describing the transformation in Robert's personality.

'I think he's ready now for anything that this place can throw at him,'

she joked.

'I had a vision of a sleeping man dead to the world and it changed my life,' he said with his eyes closed.

Later when he had dropped the saviours back home, Polly said to Jim that she wasn't sure how to take Robert.

'It's that deadpan humour - it takes a bit of getting used to,' Jim had explained.

Now however, Dinah was safely installed at her sister's place in Queensland and Robert found himself faced with several more mountains of stuff. The updates of the cyclone's path were not encouraging so Min suggested that he move into her place until the coast was clear. It made sense too with only one car.

The staff at the college were not particularly worried about the cyclone and one of the male staff who intended to enter the priesthood, cited the powerful effect of a population united in supplication; when Min conveyed this news to Robert he asked if there was any scientific evidence for collective prayer influencing meteorological phenomena. Together they mocked and adopted the position of Wait and See.

They didn't have to wait long. The next afternoon while Min was cleaning Robert's house and he was packing the car, the news came over the car radio that the cyclone was going to make landfall during the night at around 3 a.m. The supermarkets had sold out of bread, milk and eggs but fortunately Min and Robert between them had supplies for several days. Robert rang Dinah who said she felt guilty for having left Robert.

'Come off it old girl. It's good you got away and it might not be too severe. Keep in touch.' He thought it was less complicated if he didn't go into detail about his accommodation until after it was all over.

Min wished she could contact Michael and they both wondered if he knew about the emergency. When she spoke to her parents however, they had their ears close to the radio and sounded very anxious.

'Have you got anyone to turn to Min?' She reassured them by saying that her friends were rallying round. Her mother would not have been reassured if she'd been more precise about her living arrangements. Cohabiting could never be justified in her book as Min told Robert who had been quite specific to his mother and whose reaction had been quite the opposite.

Gerard came around to see Min and was surprised to find Robert there. He had brought some coffee which they shared like condemned men, he joked. Robert said afterwards that gallic humour and gallows humour seemed to have something in common.

## Chapter 79

Min was woken in the middle of the night by a loud roar and her first thought was that she was on the flight path of a low-flying jet. Then she remembered and lay motionless clutching her top sheet and listening. The roar became a deafening whine and rain was driving through the louvres which they had left open to reduce resistance to pressure. She called out to Robert but there was no answer. Would she go and wake him? The poor man was exhausted and she preferred to let him remain oblivious for as long as possible. There would be time enough to share the fury of the weather. She reminded herself of all the storms and tornadoes that she had read about or seen films of (they went back as far as The Wizard of Oz which had linked a tornado with fantastic excitement in her small brain) and now she was in the thick of it and feeling scared. She thought about all the times this elemental fury must have lashed these little islands over the millennia. It was a relief to know that a lot of people had hedged their bets and stocked up, judging by the empty shop shelves.

There was a horrible crash against the roof of the house and she knew it was the papaya tree where the topmost fruit was annoyingly out of reach. Perhaps now it would be all over the ground and turned to mush, she thought ruefully. She heard Robert call so she got out of bed and went to his room where the rain had come through the louvres and drenched his sheet. Even his hair was wet and he asked her to get him a towel while he moved his bed to the other side of the room. She found him a dry sheet and under blanket and went to heat water for some tea. All the while the wind howled and the rain pounded deafeningly and the kitchen was awash from the open windows. They went through the house closing every louvre and putting towels where the deluge had started and afterwards they sat in the middle of the living room on the dry pandanus mats, sipping blessed tea. There was no point in speaking and Min was thinking of the villages with their traditional houses whose design was adapted to the climate of sultry days and pleasant trade winds in season. How would they survive the present onslaught? Perhaps the solid concrete government houses and the open-sided fales were the best places to be.

When Min got up to refill their teacups and passed the telephone she lifted the receiver to see if the line was still connected; hearing nothing, she shook her head rather mournfully at Robert.

'Thank God you're here,' she mouthed through the hammering tumult and he smiled wanly and gave her the thumbs up. Her atavistic reference to God made her smile as well as reminding herself of small mercies. There might come a time to catalogue these later.

When inevitable daylight penetrated the gloom she wondered when the outside world would get the news of the cyclone's arrival. New Zealand would be the first country to know thanks to the time zone and there would be widespread worry because so many local expatriates lived there and would fear for their families. What about those villages around the coast at sea level where swells would be threatening their existence? As these thoughts occupied Min's mind Robert sat speechless and motionless, staring into the space around him in a trance.

Suddenly there was a tearing sound and he jerked his head upwards to the ceiling. Then he looked at Min who bit her lower lip.

'The roof!' he bellowed tonelessly.

'What shall we do?' she yelled back at which he started to laugh maniacally.

'Do?' he shrieked in a weird falsetto. 'Go down with the ship of course! Be a hero!'

Min looked at him in amazement. Cooped up with someone who had lost their cool was worse than being alone, she revised. Perhaps it was just his way of dealing with something out of all control. She stood up and went over and slapped his face. She looked fixedly into his staring eyes which seemed to be wired up to a different part of his brain. She waited. Then she spoke his name quietly until she saw a light flicker behind his eyes as if he were switching channels. At least that's how she described it much later to Polly who seemed to understand.

The roofing iron was rising and falling with a grinding sound at the behest of the relentless gale. How long would it be before it was swept from its moorings and sail off on a destructive path? Min dwelt on the existential isolation of this personal apocalypse when you were totally alone with your own problem of survival. Time didn't exist because only the enduring present counted while you witnessed sheer destruction of planetary origin. Suddenly the tumult altered as if an orchestra had been joined by yet more percussion and Min realised that the roof was being torn and was struggling to separate into pieces. She saw a large sheet fly over the grass and land on the trees in the property which joined hers, before it danced drunkenly and moved on. Further visibility was restricted by the volume of water driven horizontally by the storm.

Robert got up and went to the bedroom where he lay on his side with his head under the pillow. Min followed him and sat on the end of his bed with her elbows on her knees and her hands over her ears. After a while she began to shake uncontrollably and was unable to stand up and go to her own room. Robert, feeling the bed shaking got up and knelt behind her to put his arms around her and control the movement. When her teeth finally stopped chattering and her breathing slowed she leaned back with her head on his shoulder and murmured 'Sorry' into the dreadful din.

## Chapter 80

Min's parents were frantic with anxiety as they listened to the news reports of the cyclone's widespread damage. They had rung and rung hoping each time that the phone would be answered but the line was dead. They rang the newspaper office but could find out nothing more than was coming over the wires. Min's mother rushed to the church to pray and while she was there she asked the parish priest to offer his prayers also. Along with bland assurances that God would look after his own, he said he would try and contact the local parish and find out how Min was faring. (Oh Father if you only knew!)

In the meantime Min and Robert had to decide what to do. The daylight had presented them with a wasteland of downed trees and slabs of roofing lying all over the place. The holes in the roof had created huge damp patches on the pinex ceiling which had dripped into puddles on the concrete floor; the electricity had finally gone in the kitchen and the wind was still raging in high-pitched gusts which were nerve-shattering after so many hours. They were worried about their friends as well as thinking how helpless their parents at home would feel. Robert was incredulous that he hadn't thought to set up a battery radio when they were preparing for the onslaught.

Min had slept for most of the night exhausted by her shock reaction and little sleep the previous night. Robert however had lain awake for what seemed like hours tortured by the all-encompassing fury and listening closely for any reduction in its vehemence. He had recovered from his own shock reaction and was anxious to contact the world outside their embattled domain. What wholesale damage would they find when at last they could venture out? He kept thinking what an inhospitable planet they inhabited and how human endeavour was in the end powerless.

As soon as he noticed a semblance of dawn he made some sandwiches with the miscellaneous food they had stockpiled from their joint refrigerators which had now defrosted and added to the volume of water everywhere. The bottled water was warm and in short supply. (The water in the taps was full of foreign bodies and Min said it was just as well to be reminded that it could not to be drunk without boiling and once the bottled water ran out they would have to resort to milk which might be on the turn. 'Ugh.')

As they sat on Min's bed munching away on their sandwiches, she remembered that Robert had wriggled out of any self revelations when they were marooned on the Big Island. She had an idea.

'Look - why don't you tell me the whole immigration saga from go to woe because I've heard only bits of it and it'll help to make it stick in your memory. Spare no detail including your most wicked thoughts.' Robert munched silently for a while and said, his voice raised, 'I'd rather forget the whole thing actually and I can't be bothered trying to talk through this bloody racket.'

'Are you furious that you didn't get away in time?'

'Perhaps.'

'You must be missing Dinah.'

'Yeah.'

This was getting tedious thought Min and she tried hard to think of how to pass the time marooned as they were in the maelstrom. The rain was coming in squalls now and the wind was more like storm force. Although she wasn't tired she lay down to try and doze the time away. She picked up the book she had been reading - one of George Gissing's, which Michael had left behind for her. (A taste for nineteenth English literature was something else they both shared. They both came from towns with a strong Victorian heritage even though it clashed with the Irish presence in each place. They were a couple of colonial hybrids, he had once told her.)

It was impossible to concentrate on another world in the middle of this elemental raging but she tried to read the words while her mind was divided between her own near despair and concern for Robert's misery. She felt sorry for him without Dinah who by now would be worrying about him all alone and surrounded by the mountain of stuff.

She was losing track of time and when she woke from a doze she couldn't remember what day it was. They had been corralled in the wet depressing house for what seemed like a week. Her watch had stopped. She got up to go to the bathroom and attend to her "toilette" - as her grandmother used to say - and she looked into Robert's room to see if he was asleep. It seemed so.

The cold shower was a shock at first after her sleep but it was a relief to let the powerful water pressure drown out the roar of the wind. She was standing with closed eyes and letting the water pound her from head to foot when the door opened and Robert stood in front of her, smiling wanly.

She turned off the tap and asked him what he wanted.

'Nothing. What's the time?'

'No idea - Excuse me.'

She stepped out on to the mat and took her towel to dry her face. Then she wrapped it around her and went to the hand basin to clean her teeth. She looked behind her and saw Robert take off his clothes and step into the wooden shower enclosure. Somehow all this was perfectly natural as if they were castaways on a desert island where mental and physical survival were the first priority. It felt as if they had moved from bewilderment to a state of contingent resignation.

## Chapter 81

'Stand still and turn around - there - don't move - great - this'll be something to remember it by. Maybe we'll even get a laugh out of it one day.'

Jim pressed the lever of his camera to wind on the next shot.

'Now it's my turn. All you need to do is get the shot in focus and press the button.'

The window in the bathroom had been blown in and there were shards of glass everywhere. Polly and Jim had swept up as much as they could find and put it into a corner where they kept adding further discoveries depending on the amount of light coming through. When they used the bathroom they had to wear plastic ponchos and rock hopper shoes which had been packed away since their arrival but which were now de rigueur to protect them from the rain pouring through the broken window. It was this scenario which Jim was committing to celluloid.

Polly was less enthusiastic about such a souvenir; it had been a terrifying three days which she would want to forget. She too had woken first when dazzling light accompanied by deafening thunder had crashed over their heads. She was rigid with fright as the electrical mayhem shook the house and the sky opened. It was only moments before the huge whoosh of the cyclone began to hiss and whine with such destructive malevolence that she grabbed Jim and hid her head in his neck and wept. She confessed to Jim later that she was inwardly praying to the power which was tearing the world apart and begging for mercy for the little blob inside her. As Jim said the blob was like an underground animal because they were both oblivious of the tumultuous biosphere unless, of course, Polly's distress communicated itself to her tiny guest. (She remembered how her Spanish grandmother told a story about a child born with a birthmark shaped like a cat because the mother had inadvertently turned the oven on with a cat inside.)

Jim managed to get Radio Australia on short wave later on the first day of the cyclone. It was mentioned on a news bulletin as causing widespread devastation throughout their island group. But it wasn't until the second day that there was any report of fatalities which had been in one or two coastal villages exposed to the huge swells coming from the north-west. Polly was very tearful at the thought of anybody dying especially if they were children. Her feeling for young life was intensely heightened and Jim hoped that she would not suffer any after-effects of the wanton destruction wreaked on the little nation.

When, days later the wild fury began to die down Jim wanted to leave the house to check out the damage to the buildings on the beachfront. While he and Polly were discussing the wisdom of such a move they heard a car pull up outside and it was Min and Robert looking drawn and miserable. Without saying a word they all hugged each other and Polly sobbed openly. Min stroked the back of her head but still said nothing. Jim asked Robert how much damage there had been to his house and he said that he and Min had been together at her place for mutual support.

'I wasn't much use I'm afraid. I have to admit I freaked out - not sure why.'

They all described the effect the cataclysm had had on them personally. When Jim pointed out the gear they had to wear when visiting the bathroom Polly started to laugh hysterically. Min took hold of her hand and they sat down on the settee. Jim said they'd been discussing his idea of biking off to check out the damage in the town area.

'Poll's not keen on being left so p'raps you could keep her company. By the way all we can offer is some tinned tomato juice or bourbon.'

No one wanted to take wheat from blind fowls as Robert said, so in the end he and Jim went off in Min's car to see what they could find out. Min and Polly relived the shock of the onset of the cyclone and how terrifying it had continued to be for what seemed forever. Polly explained how apprehensive she had felt because of her pregnancy and Min quivered at the news and began to cry. She gave Polly a hug and muttered an excuse for her reaction which Polly mutely understood. Finally they both hugged each other and Min asked simply 'When?'

When Polly gave her an approximation of the date as far as she had worked it out, she sounded plaintive.

'God! - it's all so real. We have to be serious about getting settled in Hawai'i in time for me to contact the necessary services. This has brought me down to earth with a vengeance. Till now it's been living a dream.' She put her heels of her hands against her forehead and moaned.

'How's Jim dealing with the reality - as you call it?'

'He's OK. I'd say he's pretty pleased in a reticent sort of way.' Polly looked directly at Min.

'You'll come and visit won't you? Next year?'

Min said she'd love to in her mid - semester break, if she weren't summoned home by a parent.

'I'm going "home" - as my mother calls it - for Christmas so I should be able to go north in July. Anyway it's winter in New Zealand then...'

Polly was anxious about Eturasi and his family so Min suggested that they go and see them when Robert brought the car back.

'This is such a tragedy for this poor country and Eturasi will be distraught.'

## Chapter 82

The first thing Jim noticed as they drove on to the beach front road was the absence of the ticket booth where snorkellers bought their passes. The house belonging to the family who operated the diving business was so damaged that no one was to be seen and the normally placid deep trough, full of beautiful fish life, was a churning soup of whole trees and other vegetation. It was hard to imagine the picturesque spot ever returning to its former tranquillity. Jim remembered meeting Michael there after he'd been snorkelling and he remarked to Robert that several of their friends had had a narrow escape - notably Dinah.

'In a funny sort of way I hope I can do something to help whereas if we'd already left I would have felt helpless and even a bit guilty.'

'Maybe we could have raised money to send over,' said Robert 'but then it'd've been a drop in the bucket, I s'pose.'

They parked the car and negotiated the jetsam on the footpath. They came to the immigration office building to find that the top floor was open to the elements and the outside staircase had been ripped off. Robert snorted and Jim looked at him quizzically. Neither said anything in the circumstances - it was not the time or the place. The cathedral was intact at first glance but various sea grasses had wound themselves around the statues which were still smiling in their niches as if they were amused. Robert couldn't resist a quip,

'Makes a change from fig leaves,' and Jim said that they looked like self- satisfied sentinels. It was obvious that the sea had washed over the road as far as the church façade and when they looked inside they saw that it had drenched the back pews. There were people near the altar –some praying and others chatting while a priest in a white cassock was removing sodden pamphlets from a stand. Robert asked the priest what the latest news was and was told that an air force plane was arriving that evening with things like tents and powdered milk as well as telecommunication technicians. A reception centre was being set up in the two main hotels and volunteers to help with unpacking and distribution were going to be needed. One of the hotels had a working generator and the washing and food preparation for the hospital were being done there until the hospital generator could be fixed.

All the large windows of the supermarket had been smashed and they saw a few people helping themselves to goods. No doubt the front would be boarded up in the next day or so while at the moment the general populace was stunned by their immediate problems. The wind was still coming in wild gusts to deter all but the most curious. Robert suggested that they walk as far as one of the hotels because he wanted to register his offer as a volunteer but Jim said it was better to wait until the telephones were reconnected.

When they got back Polly and Min went to try and see Eturasi but the road to the front of his land was blocked by trees meaning that they would have to walk most of the way. Polly felt hungry and light-headed so they went back to try and cobble together something edible. As a diversion everyone nominated the food they most craved and Polly's was a saucepan full of mashed potatoes laced with butter. Min felt her mouth twitch when she contemplated rye bread and chunks of jarlsberg cheese and Jim drooled over the idea of lasagna. Robert said he had never realised what a slab of grass-fed cow meant to him because he hadn't particularly missed it during his time on the island where pork reigned.

'Jim has stockpiled salaami you'll be glad to know,' said Polly generously, 'whereas I hope to devour a pineapple.'

Min remembered the discussion on the Big Island about the unlimited culinary possibilities of hitherto unspeakable protein sources but she chose discretion in the light of their actual deprivation and the possible effect on Polly. Jim seemed to read her mind and he announced Polly's pregnancy with obvious pleasure.

'I told Min while you were out in fact,' said Polly.

'So far we haven't celebrated, so as soon as things become normalish again we must do something memorable. Any suggestions?'

'How about a picnic on the other side of the island where the cool stream meets the lagoon? Have you two been there?'

'Without a car we haven't ventured so far.'

Min told them how Robert and Dinah had taken her there soon after she had arrived and it was the nearest thing to Eden.

'That was a day I'll never forget. I fell in love with what this country had to offer me and whenever things have gone a bit haywire I've remembered that spot.'

'Don't raise expectations too high or our friends might be disappointed.'

'You're right - it was one of those moments when things came together for me.' Min looked at Robert and noticed that he was pleased to hear her eulogy but his natural caution always came into play. At some time he must have experienced a real disappointment and he wasn't going to be caught out again.

'OK - it's a deal,' said Jim, reverently unwrapping the salami and putting it on a plate. It soon disappeared and Min was embarrassed.

'You two were better prepared than we were and we're taking advantage of that. We'll provide the picnic lunch when we get around to that trip. In the meantime I'll just feel guilty.'

Jim observed that behavioural norms were still in action with politeness and guilt operating. He wondered how long it would take to shed them and Robert said he thought his manners were already wearing thin.

'When I'm hungry I feel mean I have to admit.'

'It's time to go,' laughed Min. 'Come around tomorrow and we'll make you a tuna sandwich.'

After they'd gone Polly said the very idea of tuna made her want to retch.

## Chapter 83

During the worst of the cyclone Min had wondered how Gerard and Yvonne were managing but she wasn't sure how she would show her concern. It was Robert who suggested that they go and check on them on day five but Min stayed back to try and dry things out. The sun was back on duty.

The damage to the café was extensive because it was not far from the beach front. The windows in front were smashed and the rain had drenched a large section of the table area but the coffee machine behind the counter was unscathed. The house immediately behind the café had escaped major damage but little Monique was badly shocked. She still cried a lot and kept asking if the "monstre" was coming back. As Yvonne said she and Gerard had experienced some wild storms in New Caledonia but nothing like the ferocity of this event.

'I think Monique choose the good word,' she said.

Gerard wanted Yvonne and the baby to go to New Caledonia as soon as they could arrange it because it was difficult to get the right nutrition for the child. They had plenty of powdered milk but couldn't use the tap water so Robert offered to go to the hotel and get some sterile water. Yvonne was grateful and accompanied him while Gerard tried to get rid of all the glass which was dangerous. He asked Robert if he knew how Min was and showed some surprise when he heard that he and Min had been together throughout.

At the hotel Robert put his name down to help in any way he could and he was told that the telephones would be reconnected in the next few days. Help was starting to come in from other countries and there would be a need for distribution to outlying areas once the roads had been cleared. That was going to take a long time so the Prime Minister had asked for two helicopters from Hawai'i in order to reach the most distant settlements. The local radio was issuing regular updates on what was happening and Robert was told that once the crisis was over, there would be a widespread stress reaction and a need for reassurance.

To his surprise a few market stalls were open so he and Yvonne bought up as much fruit as they could without being greedy. On his way home Robert dropped in a pineapple for Polly who hugged him ferociously.

'Manna from heaven,' she said as she kissed the prickly fruit.

Back in the car he told Yvonne about Polly's pregnancy and she was delighted.

'I have bébé clothers I can offer. How nice.'

Robert reported everything to Min that evening as they devoured a fruit salad of bananas pineapple and papaya. It was obvious, he said, that everything was going to be in short supply once current food ran out, because the hinterland was devastated and plantations ruined. Prospects were grim and perhaps they should think of leaving - sooner rather than later.

'I'll stick to my Christmas booking and I presume that the college will continue with the end of year programme, once the future is clearer.' Robert was in a reflective mood and talked about a collective trauma versus a private one. Which was more awful he asked himself. Min thought that all human suffering was equally excruciating whether collective or private but Robert said that something like the present situation evoked a collective response while a private trauma was intensified by the loneliness of it. Min thought about it for a while.

'All suffering is finally private no matter what the scale because individual responses vary and human resilience is so variable.'

But Robert pursued his thesis doggedly.

'I think that in a national crisis everybody is more or less in the same boat - especially in a communal society like this one. But even in something like say a San Francisco earthquake, there is solidarity among the citizens who all have the same fear of the same horror.'

'But what about those really unlucky ones whose family members have died or been maimed? How much comfort can they take from the community when their extra misery was random?'

Robert had to agree but reasserted his central thesis that for anyone suffering alone and surrounded by normal life it was like being poor among the affluent. Poverty like tragedy was mitigated by being shared. The night was almost unbearably hot and clammy so Min suggested that they drive up the hill to see the spectacular waterfall on the other side of the canyon; its volume would be greatly increased by the deluge unleashed by the cyclone and the sight of it might cool them down and help them sleep.

'The sight of water can act as a therapeutic distraction,' Min confessed smilingly as she reached out her hand to Robert.

The road was however impassable before they got very far and the darkness more opaque than ever with only low flickering lights in the big houses beside the road. The car lights had picked out flattened telegraph poles and small roadside shops reduced to rubble.

'I wonder what the pastors will say in their Sunday sermons this week,' Min expressed her frustration. So-called Acts of God were one thing but what capital was made of them was another.

'They'll have conjured up some nimble theology I bet.'

'As long as they pull their weight I don't really care what they say. Look

Min, don't begrudge other people their consolation.'

With a grinding of the gears, Min turned the car around and went back to the hot stuffy house where the smell of mildew depressed her even more.

## Chapter 84

The next day Min walked to the college to see what damage had been done there. The big breadfruit tree outside the staffroom was lying terminally wounded and taking up a lot of space. Several young children were filling baskets with fruit and they smiled gleefully at Min as she approached. All the classrooms were full of puddles and she looked around for a broom to try and speed up the drying out process. It seemed that none of the staff had been to look at the damage and she was worried that they were suffering too much in their own villages; most lived further away than she did. Tapa cloth had been ripped from the walls and was lying on the wet floor so Min took it outside to dry out in the sun which was almost at its summer peak. Humidity kept the air moist however.

She found a broom and was working away somewhat ineffectually when the Principal arrived to check out the damage. They embraced silently in acknowledgement of the evidence of the cyclone's fury and the huge task ahead. There were tears in the Principal's eyes when she told Min that her brother and his family could not be contacted. The damage to the livelihood of the nation was incalculable she said, and she had no idea when the college would reopen because the students would be required by their families to help with reconstruction.

'When are you going to New Zealand?'

'Just before Christmas.'

'Perhaps you should go now. I must say it's a relief to know that you'll be here next year.'

Min explained that her friend was hoping to be able to help and perhaps she could do the same at the college over the next week or two.

When she got back to the house Jim was there looking unkempt and different. He had come to borrow Robert's cut throat razor because he had only an electric one.

'I like your new look,' said Min. 'It's sort of venerable.'

He was adamant that veneration was not what he was after and anyhow

Polly hated it.

Robert had to advise him in the primitive art of shaving in cold water and finally Jim decided to stay bearded until the power came on.

'Come to think of it - what did the natives use in days gone by?'

Min was surprised to hear Robert go into detail about shells and certain tree secretions. When she asked him later how he knew all this he said he'd made it up on the spur of the moment.

'I was completely convinced you dark old horse.'

That evening she told him what the Principal had suggested and he agreed that Min should try and change her airline ticket.

'What about you?'

'What about me?'

'You need company if you're going to stay and help.'

Robert was tempted to mention martyrdom but he stopped himself in time, remembering Min's sensitivities about that word. However she anticipated his reaction.

'And I'm not being a martyr either - in case you're about to say so.'

The night had closed in and there was no moon so Min lit all the candles they had hoarded.

Robert said he wanted to get something off his chest which related to the discussion they had had earlier. Min's pulse quickened - wondering what he was about to reveal.

'I've never told Dinah anything about my early life - partly because such things didn't seem to interest her and deep down I thought she might not respect me. One has to choose one's confidantes carefully.' He glanced up at Min who frowned with a stab of anxiety. Sensitively, he was seeking reassurance and after a moment of silence said,

'It's hard to know where to begin - except...'(he stroked his face and stretched his eyes wide), 'there was a day when I was at high school - which is like yesterday - it was a moment when things changed so much.' He stared at the backs of his hands and then his fingernails as if they held his secrets. Min waited quietly while he found a starting point.

'A new bloke came to our class - which in itself is not noteworthy - but it turned out that his mother had known my father when they were young

\- y'know - late teens. I knew that my father died in England of war wounds when I was a baby so I never knew him but I was proud because he was a sort of war hero. Well - this jerk asked me how my father was and of course I said that he'd died in the war.' Robert sniffed and rubbed his hand over his forehead again. Min felt uncomfortable as she watched him uncover his hidden wound.

'The next day this creep came up to me and said that his mother had heard a different story and he wondered how that happened. I told the sod to fuck off and I tried to ignore him but it preyed on my mind so one night I told my mother what I'd heard. She started to cry and I freaked out and yelled at her and then went to bed feeling angry and hoodwinked somehow. I didn't speak to her for a while - maybe because I was scared of hearing a different story from the one I knew.' He looked directly at Min. 'Can you understand that?'

'Yes - I can,' she said quietly. She added that lying to children was legitimised by some misguided idea that they couldn't handle the truth. Robert said that he was sure that that was the reason for his anger, especially when he found out that his father had returned from the war mentally ill and had died in a psychiatric hospital not long before this episode at the school.

'I realised then, that that was why I went to stay with my grandparents sometimes - because my mother went to visit my father who was in another city.'

Min said she understood what he said about lonely pain and what a loss of trust must mean in later life. She went over and put her arm around him and he leaned his head on her shoulder. With a deep sigh he looked up and took hold of Min's chin.

'The bloody cyclone has made me soft in the head.'

'No. We are all vulnerable - that's all,' she murmured.

## Chapter 85

Within two weeks of the cyclone's ravage through the small island group the Pacific neighbours had rallied to assist and worried relatives had been able to check on family members caught up in the vortex. This first stage with its casualty statistics and requests for specific help from outside agencies, moved into another stage of counting the cost to the economy of the destruction of crops. For those faced with the reconstruction of housing and the water supply along with the replanting of crops in a wasted landscape, a period of real slog began. At the same time a cloud of mourning hovered over everything.

Eturasi was at the centre of the problems faced by the country as he tried to assemble facts and figures and instances of generosity among the people. In all his dreams of the future he could not have envisaged such a set-back but he was resolved to resist the siren call from overseas relatives - for himself at least. He and Luatasi discussed sending the girls away during the period of disruption for their educational benefit, but the older one asked to stay. One of Luatasi's cousins had lost a child in the cyclone and this might have sharpened her loyalty to the local family.

The newspaper office became the unofficial centre for information and practical assistance and Polly took leave from her easy-going job in the archives office to help with administration and record-keeping. Jim had gone to a village to help with clearing and replanting so Polly asked Min if she could stay with her when Robert left for the hinterland. So far he was kept busy cleaning and sorting at the office where part of the roof had gone. The other staff had to remain in their villages so he was relieved to be available for the town job.

Min's classes had resumed but the numbers were severely reduced. This meant that the programme had to be suspended and new work was required in the meantime. She and Robert were relaxed with each other and he had moved into a phase which they called contented fatalism. Min reflected on her relationships with her friends and rejoiced at the richness of the world as it had opened up to her during the past two years. If only Michael would get in touch. In this circumstance no news was not good news. Surely he had heard about the cyclone and would be concerned for his friends.

One afternoon as they were sitting in the Seasider which like Gerard had managed to resume a semblance of normal service, they were joined by Semese. He said that things at the hospital were more or less back to normal and some medical students from Australia had come to help over their summer vacation. Some of the regular staff were marooned in their villages. When Min asked him if he had heard from Michael he shook his head.

'I was hoping that perhaps you had. It's a worry because the last time I spoke to him on a bad line, he sounded down. I told him how much we missed him at the hospital but he wasn't impressed.'

Min was unable to talk frankly about Michael's problems with Semese, in Robert's presence, so instead Semese asked Robert if he had solved his exit problem.

'I'd hoped you had managed to get away before this calamity.'

'All is forgiven and Robert is volunteering to help when he's asked.' Min smiled as she looked at Robert who surprised her by saying that he was going to stay on indefinitely.

'All hands to the pump,' laughed Semese mirthlessly. 'I've been thinking about the grim forecasts for this part of the world if and when the seas rise. Our way of life with all our lovely coastal settlements will be history. An event like this has reminded me that we inhabit a dynamic planet where nothing is certain except uncertainty.'

'Where's your faith in God?'

Semese frowned. 'You know - he seems like an absentee landlord whose tenants are writhing in insecurity.'

'It's an interesting analogy if you believe in Him in first place.'

'Like that bloke - that Frenchman wasn't it? - I'm hedging my bets.'

When Semese had gone Min said how she envied people like him who were schooled in two cultures.

'I realise how much more problematic it is for Maori back home, whose culture has had a struggle to keep a firm foothold in the dominant culture.'

'Living here has thrown Maori culture into relief for me,' said Robert.

'God - when you think of how they found Aotearoa (as you called it) in the first place and survived in what was an inhospitable neck of the woods. Fruit didn't drip off the trees and coconuts fall at their feet. Fern roots couldn't have been that appetising.'

'What I've come to appreciate too is the brilliance of Maori art. Functionality doesn't seem to have been the motivation to the extent that it has been here - more art for art's sake.'

'We're beginning to sound nostalgic,' said Robert. 'Do you think we'll feel the same when we get home?'

'Of course. Why not?' Min took a last swig of her beer and stood up. 'I need some inspiration about what I'm teaching tomorrow. No more intellectualising - it's back to hard facts, like the inflection of the third person singular!'

'Mystification, jargon - just another form of power.' Robert leaned on his folded arms. 'I'm off back to the menial task of putting new glass in windows.'

'Good. Shall I pick you up?'

'Give me a couple of hours.'

## Chapter 86

The bus was full of excited youngsters going into the mountains for what must have been the first time. Two older people who, Michael presumed were teachers, were full of information about the flora as it changed with the gradual change in altitude. Michael was sitting behind the driver on the left and every now and again the cheerful fellow looked in the rear vision mirror and smiled in a comradely way.

During a rest stop near a takeaway bar when the coach emptied for a stretching of legs as the driver said, Michael went for a walk among the trees beside the road and he recalled the turbulent history of this now peaceful place. This was Ned Kelly country. Most Australians had a soft spot for the colonial outlaw and Michael was no exception. He recalled his recurring dream in which a mounted policeman, like a representative of righteousness, disturbed him with an unspoken accusation. Part of the Kelly story concerned the dedicated pursuit of the non-conformist Irish family by the guardians of the law.

Back on the bus the driver began a pæan in praise of the packed lunch, prompted by the sight of pies and chips and bottles of coca-cola which came on board with the other passengers. Michael heard how his mother had packed him a lunch of vegemite and lettuce sandwiches almost every day of his school career and how his mouth watered now at the memory. Even now his wife was happy to pack him lunch so that he didn't have to rely on dodgy food sitting around on shelves for God knows how long.

'As long as I can get a nice hot cup of tea I'm as happy as Larry,' he said to the mirror. Michael nodded and wondered - not for the first time - who Larry was. He wouldn't have minded swapping places with that epitome of cheer.

After the food disappeared the young students began to doze while the few adults chatted. Michael began to think about the cyclone which had been reported on the television with graphic pictures of a torn scathed land. He had seen a beachfront that was unrecognisable and he thought of his friends and colleagues trying to put things back together. He considered making a call to the hospital but in his present frame of mind he was unwilling to hear of any more misery. His self-absorption had become all-enveloping to the exclusion of compassion for others and he watched his mechanical interactions like a bored spectator. He did wonder briefly if the external turmoil would have temporarily obliterated the internal. Or it could have been the coup de grâce?

The next morning after a night in a warm lodge near the winter snowline he ate a light breakfast and preparing to walk further up, he put on the heavy boots and warm gear which he had brought. He left his lighter clothing in the room which he reserved for another night and he talked briefly to the manager when he gave Michael a pamphlet showing the various walking tracks.

The day was sunny with the crisp bracing air he had often fondly remembered when he was sweating in the clammy tropics. The welcome astringent feel it gave him lifted his spirits for the first time in ages and as he stepped out, he felt almost jaunty. With the majority of the population immersed in the headlong rush to Christmas few visitors had escaped the heat and frenzy of the cities so he was alone, except for two heavily- laden tourists who saluted him as they passed on their way down the hill.

The track he chose went almost straight up to where the vegetation thinned out and the rocks jutted sturdily. Rocks had always appealed to him for their perennial witness to the story of the planet and if he had not studied medicine he might have chosen geology. It would not have led him to the place he was now...

"Thou art Peter and upon this rock I will build my church and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it" was the founding slogan he had so often heard resounding from the pulpit; the image of the rock had also been a powerful anchor for his developing mind.

The first fleck of snow gave him a thrill of surprise and he stretched out his hand to touch it. So far the only snow he had known was the warm cotton wool in the Christmas manger. He kept walking hoping to see more substantial amounts of this novelty until he was suddenly surrounded by mist which blocked out the rocks beyond. It was suddenly icy cold and it felt like a white darkness where nothing was visible beyond his outstretched hand. He sat on a flattish rock and stared into the vapour which he hoped the midday sun would soon penetrate. It was a good time to have a drink as a displacement activity while a way up might become clear. The warmth of the coffee suffused his chest, raising his temperature and lifting his spirit. He would save the rest of the warm liquid for later, so he stowed the flask in his pack and sat motionless in the padded silence.

He felt calm and contemplative. What was the difference between the heavens (plural) and heaven (singular)? It suddenly came to him that to speak of "the heavens" was to imply a certain awe at the magnificence of the knowable. To speak of "heaven" was to posit a panacea for the groping spirit. Images of angels smiling contentedly plucking their harps on layers of cloud made him smile with one side of his mouth. Shedding these infantile images and growing up was a mixed blessing; a rational mind brought responsibilities often with little comfort.

Being enclosed in a cocoon of whiteness reminded him of the first experience he had had under water in the world of fish. It was such a different medium that a sense of panic had begun to encroach on his thoughts. He told himself to relax so that he could manage the environment and keep his brain in charge. He remembered how this had focused his mind on the beauty and not the danger of his surroundings. He had overcome the panic then and enjoyed the challenge of what was a different world - and must do the same again and allow the infinite variety of the earth to dazzle his mind.

## Chapter 87

The cyclone had driven a stake through the heart of the country and cut a swathe through the emotions of the people, because heartbreak in a small compact society is like a stone in a millpond. Even expatriates who had settled into the easy rhythm of the tropics, found themselves dispossessed of a way of living which had gradually taken hold, and in which the glitzy shop frontages and mass transit systems had been replaced by the intensely blue sea by day and the scintillation of stars by night. Everything had been shattered by what was in fact a brief and terrifying onslaught.

It became a time of questioning and decision-making. For some it was a sort of awakening to a personal reality which had been on hold for want of urgency. For the lotus-eaters it was a moment of truth. For those with family responsibilities this was a time of adjustment and endurance.

The arduous rebuilding of the economy and fragile institutions required leadership and dedication. To bail out was an option for some, but the needs of the country ruled this out for those who like Eturasi could see a role in maintaining morale.

The spirit of the core population derived in part from its continuity of occupation and perhaps from a collective dreamtime when the wrath of the gods had been made manifest. What was different in this time was access to help from beyond the country itself.

A clarion call had gone out to all those family members living overseas and they had responded with sacrificial generosity. Remittances from abroad were part of the normal economy anyway but now the funds increased enormously. A new cadre of non-government officials arrived to help with repairing infrastructure on behalf of donors, while clearance of the land strewn with fallen trees like matchsticks was a priority for replanting.

Robert and Min had reached a domestic understanding but often he did not return if he was working at a distant village. When Min's telephone was reconnected she and her old friend from the post office were reacquainted and she heard how members of his village had been cut off for two weeks by the washed out coastal road. The telephone service did not extend to that part of the island so it was necessary to wait for machinery to be brought in to move the earth barrier and it had been an anxious wait to know if anyone had died.

'My old grandfather died after the cyclone was over and it was probably shock which killed him. There was no food or water for all the time they were cut off.'

Min expressed her sympathy and asked about the supply of replacement cables. She hoped she was not depriving anybody in greater need.

'We are better off now with the extra help from donor countries,' Mr Telefono smiled in recollection. He asked about her experience of the cyclone all on her own.

She described the slow and ferocious destruction and the sharing of resources with Robert. Then the obvious question.

'He is your husband then?'

Min laughed and said, 'No he's not.'

What message she conveyed was uncertain and feeling perverse she simply did not care. She went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea to avoid more questioning. Mr Telephono to her surprise, followed her and said he was glad she had had someone with her during the worst of the storm.

When Robert came back after a few days' away he described the waste land which had replaced the lush tropical growth; the stoicism of the villagers had impressed him. He had been prepared to hear expressions of guilt from a God-fearing population who had seen the devastation in apocalyptic terms, but instead he found all the able-bodied working in well-organised groups restoring the damaged houses and water storage facilities while the huge church looked on in unscathed solidity. The pastor insisted on thanking God for sparing the spared and Robert wanted to ask him what God's intentions were in relation to those who had not been spared. Had he been able to communicate with the old people he might have heard lamentations about God's wrath. As he commented wryly to Min, such certainties had something in common with those of the meteorologists.

Min meanwhile had discovered that two of her promising students had been drowned in different villages when the swell had crashed over their sleeping quarters in darkness. There was a memorial service at the college which the students organised and once again her emotions were stirred by their vocal energy which provoked cathartic tears. The service was conducted in the local language but the feelings were universal and shared. She was asked to speak on behalf of the expatriate staff and she acknowledged the loss of potential for the families and for the country as a whole. She said she was glad to be staying on to witness the restoration of hope and the survival of the spirit. Had she been leaving now she might have carried a memory of a crushed and damaged people. Jim's and Polly's plans were shaping up for their departure in the new year when Min would be visiting her home town, so it was good to share her house with Polly now while Jim and Robert were helping in the villages. Eturasi had put them in touch with his friend in Hawai'i and they had received an encouraging letter, saying that general handyman work would probably be available on the island they had chosen to move to after the birth of the child. Polly was feeling positive and healthy at last and she and Min went nearly every afternoon to swim in the lagoon where they lay on their backs to enjoy the massage therapy of the summer rains. Afterwards with matted hair and sticky bodies they'd stagger home, laughing helplessly at nothing at all.

'This child has already experienced the worst and now the best,' laughed Polly. 'From now on, I'm determined to value life's essentials. I sort of feel that I've grown up.'

Min agreed and said she would never forget her fear of the elemental power of nature's possibilities.

'Perhaps one needs to know hardship to be fully human,' she pouted and

Polly nodded sagely.

## Chapter 88

Min had not seen Gerard since the cyclone until they met in the bank one afternoon when life had returned to a semblance of normality. He kissed her three times and said quietly,

'Quel catastrophe chérie - tu m'as manqué.'

Min asked if Yvonne was back from New Caledonia and was told that she would wait till he finished the repairs in his spare time. He had reopened for business so he had to do the work after hours. He said he was feeling lonely and would she come and see him. She told him that Robert had moved in with her and he smiled and said,

'Et alors...?'

'We're just good friends anyway, but...'

'Vous autres Anglo-Saxons vous me faites rire. Trois jours dans une prison et on reste « just good friends ». He shook his head and took hold of Min's hands.

'Ce soir chérie ? - oui - chez moi ?'

Min said she would call around for coffee but she might have Polly and/or Robert with her.

'Bof - OK - D'accord.' He waved in a gesture of resigned cheeriness and headed for the door.

Robert and Jim both came home that evening so Polly went back to their place and Robert said he was relieved to sleep in the bed he had come to call his own. When Min suggested they call around to have coffee with Gerard he demurred.

'I'm not sure that Gerard is dying to see me,' he said pointedly and Min asked him what he meant.

'Min old girl, Dinah and I have been aware of your relationship with him for some time so don't let me put a spanner in the works.'

Apart from hating the expression old girl, Min was angered by what sounded like a patronising tone in his voice. She felt like a schoolgirl with a crush who was not taken seriously and she said as much. Robert had never seen her temper flare before and apologised while not knowing what exactly provoked it.

'I didn't see it as any of my business as it happens.'

Min was unable to explain why his revelation had annoyed her except that they had been holed up for days and it surprised her that the subject had not arisen in the course of some soul-searching. Robert's casual attitude revealed that her emotional life was of little consequence to him and she suddenly realised that it mattered to her what he felt about her and Gerard, but she wasn't prepared to say so. She wasn't even prepared to ask him how they knew.

Gerard's coffee was the best she had ever tasted and his mood seemed more serious than during their former encounters. He spoke about his plans for the land he had bought and how he wanted to build a hybrid house using the basic open-plan local model but with all the modern conveniences. A large water tank was to be a priority and he was even talking about writing to somebody in France to enquire about solar panels to provide electricity for the house. He was going to try and grow some coffee and cocoa plants which he would experiment with.

'When do you think Yvonne will be back?'

'In about two more weeks.'

Yvonne's absence provided some legitimacy for a truncated session of love-making as if it was a routine to round off the evening. The playfulness which Min had come to expect was missing and she was aware of Yvonne's shadow.

On the way home in the car she took her inexplicable anger out on the steering wheel and after some meaningless expletives full of feeling she declared,

'That's it!'

What IT was she didn't know and nor did she understand her unhappiness. She seemed doomed to live in a limbo drained of comfort. Had Hugo's death deprived her in some underhand way, of faith in her entitlement to real affection and would all her future relationships be predicated on the expectation of loss?

Robert was sound asleep when she got home but there was a note on the table to say that Semese had rung. Min felt her heart miss a beat. It was too late to ring him back so she would have to spend at least twelve hours on tenterhooks, wondering if he had news of Michael.

## Chapter 89

When Michael didn't return to the hostel in the evening the manager thought it was strange that he hadn't let them know of this possibility. However he knew that Michael had warm clothing and a thermos of coffee as well as sandwiches which they had prepared for him before he left.

In the morning, he and his wife waited until midday to let the police know because the traveller might turn up at any moment and the mist had covered the peaks again overnight. A group of local search and rescue volunteers prepared to set out as soon as it cleared. Being summer the temperature at that altitude was comparatively mild, they said.

The previous afternoon when the mist had cleared and the sun dissipated his fear and cold Michael had climbed up further in search of snow. The breathtaking beauty of its increasing presence and clusters of tiny alpine flowers urged him onwards in spite of his laboured breathing. He stopped to eat the sandwiches and to finish the coffee. While he gazed up at the higher reaches where only the larger rock outcrops penetrated the snowy blanket, his mind became bewitched by the grandeur of his surroundings and self-preservation was being eclipsed by a sort of euphoric trance.

He cupped his hands and called out inchoate sounds like 'oyee', and then

'Where is everybody?' There was a tiny echo quickly muffled but no other sound and he called again,

'Heaven - how far is it?' He laughed quietly and stamped his numbing feet from time to time and then stretched his arms above his head. What looked like a gesture of supplication was intended to help his circulation. He began to sing hymns in a booming voice and then clapped his hands in applause after each fully remembered verse. His father's favourite \- Faith of Our Fathers, with its jerky intervals - kept him occupied for at least ten minutes. He had trouble with the line - "In spite of Dungeon, Fire and Sword," and resorted to "Rhubarb, Fire and Sword" until his brain released the word "Dungeon" from its memory bank. He thought about the word. "Dung Eon" or "No Egnud:" as it would appear backwards. It was strange to think about a word in a new way as if the brain was seeing it for the first time. He sat down on a smooth rock to see how many other words he could form from the seven letters and 'one - gone - den - doge – dune – nun – nudge and nog' came to him without much effort. A brief triumphal urge made him stand up but he staggered forward and when he put his arm out to steady himself there was nothing to stop his fall. A shock went through his body and he lay still with closed eyes.

'Where am I?' he mumbled. Confused notions of leaving the path of righteousness while pursuing his own lonely road, interfered with urgent rational thought and the search for a way out of his situation. Resignation to the inevitability of destiny flooded his soul which had ached for so long that he craved deliverance from its pain.

When a sudden shivering engulfed his body he realised in an instinctual flash that he must maintain his core temperature for the sake of his vital organs. He set about opening his backpack but his hands were too clumsy to manipulate the buckle. When he finally managed to grope inside it and pull out his waterproof anorak he struggled to put it on over his merino wool jumper which had almost overheated him earlier in his climb.

These near futile contortions exhausted him and he groaned breathlessly. Then with feeble anger, he made another attempt to put the anorak on and managed to put one arm in a sleeve before he lay down again and closed his eyes to recover some energy. When he opened his eyes with a mighty effort he saw that a mist was swirling soundlessly around him and he was enclosed in its whiteness. He tried to clench his muscles to sound out his legs which he was remembering, but there was no sensory response. If only he could see through the white womb all around him and fend off the confusion.

Quite suddenly, the desperate need to sleep overwhelmed him and it was accompanied by a promise of waking to a new vision of truth and salvation. Further struggle was no longer called for because finally he was justified and could enter a realm of peace.

He heard a slight rustling sound and the image of a tall figure in a flowing kaftan and semi-defined in the whiteness, imprinted itself on his retina. He had a sensation of being lifted up.

'Leave me,' he thought with a last mental thrust as his leaden being embraced the oblivion where dreams play no more part.

When the party of four had set out to look for Michael more than twenty- four hours after he had left, two took one path, while the others followed the other likely path and each pair carried a two-way radio and a thermal blanket. Human survival was their business and the frenzy of the season of getting and spending took second place to that. They more than most knew the fatal attraction of the mountains and their great hope was to find their quarry and then, and only then would they celebrate this Christmas.

Meanwhile on the plains below, the pullulating crowds were surging through the midsummer heat in a last mad dash to equip themselves with haphazard purchases and boards groaning with unseasonal food. Eventually, after the tolling of midnight bells and the singing of antique songs a soporific calm would descend on the land now replete with food and drink and encumbered by trinkets, while far above, the uncompromising peaks cradled their solitary pilgrim in peace.

## Chapter 90

Min rang the hospital the next day and was told that Semese was attending a funeral in his village. It meant another wait and she found it hard to concentrate on the reports which she was busy writing. She went to Gerard's café in the afternoon to sit in the window and recall the times when she and Michael had met there. Gerard was busy with a large group of tourists from Australia who were full of loud praise for his brew. He glanced at Min occasionally as if to say he was sorry he couldn't talk but she was contented enough to watch him performing his rites and to look out at the now peaceful lagoon. This was where they had looked at the photos of Michael's holiday in New Zealand and she had hoped that he would visit her there one day after her return. There was so much more to talk about and learn.

Semese had some interesting information gleaned from a visiting Australian doctor who, in answer to his enquiries about his colleague was able to tell him that there was a hearing scheduled for early in the new year in connection with unprofessional conduct. He hadn't recognised the name but when Michael's name was mentioned he said that he was fairly sure that was the one. Semese asked him what was likely to happen and the answer was non-committal.

When he told Min what he knew, she agreed that Michael was likely to put his case as he saw it and try to argue its compassionate validity even knowing the likely consequences. Robert shared Min's anxiety and wondered why there had been no word from the man himself.

'He must feel trapped in a sort of vortex.'

'It's the sanctity of life at all costs,' said Min, 'but if someone refuses to go to war because they will not kill, it's a different matter.'

Robert pointed out that war is self defence on a terrestrial scale and enforces its own moral code.

'Yes,' said Min with narrowed eyes. 'You're likely to be shot for refusing to kill.'

Her nights were more sleepless than ever as she tried to imagine what Michael was doing and thinking. She was about to leave for home and wished she had a contact number so she could make a quick trip to Melbourne to see him and hear his latest news. Robert had asked her to visit his mother in Wellington and she was looking forward to meeting her. She wondered about putting her in touch with her own mother after so long. No doubt their paths had diverged too much.

Polly and Jim came over for a last meal before she left and Semese joined them. Inevitably the conversation turned to Michael and the friendships which they all hoped would last. Semese suggested that they make a tentative date for a reunion within five years and he could be the facilitator. The idea was received with enthusiasm and Robert said he'd pass it on to Dinah.

It was not long after that, that the phone rang and he answered it. Everyone stopped to find out who it was. Robert mouthed the word DINAH and there was a joint raising of eyebrows. When they heard him say 'Fucking horrendous,' they assumed it was in reply to a question about the cyclone. Min glanced at Semese who simply flicked his eyebrows.

Robert explained that they were having a farewell meal and had just more or less agreed to arrange a get-together at some future date, but they were also concerned about Michael because there had been no word recently.

'That's one of the reasons why I'm ringing actually.'

'Have you been in touch?'

'No - but - and it's a big but - there was an item on the national news about a body being found in the mountains down south.'

'Why would you connect that with Michael?'

'It's bizarre I know, but I had this strong intuition. OK - it is far-fetched and I hope I'm completely wrong. But I needed to talk to you. Are you living with Min? I've tried the old number several times and it's been disconnected. And now you answer her phone. What conclusion should I draw?'

Robert felt uncomfortable and his audience was restive with questions so he took Dinah's number again and promised to ring her the next day.

'I'll try and find out more and please allow plenty of time to talk Rob dear.'

When Robert hung up he said simply,

'That was Dinah.'

When he didn't elaborate they all wondered what Dinah had said, provoking his one-sided remarks. Min looked at him expectantly but he was not forthcoming so she decided to wait till later.

It was much later after the others had left that Min prised the information out of Robert. Her reaction was predictable.

'Why on earth would that be Michael? It's ridiculous and I wish Dinah hadn't rung.'

'Well,' said Robert, rather apologetically. 'She's been ringing the old number and when I answered this phone she put two and two together. She's been wondering where I was.'

They stayed up late talking about other people's presumptions and how their absent-mindedness since the cyclone had changed their focus to fundamentals of life and death. Robert smiled at Min and asked her if they were still in shock. She thought about her episode chez Gerard and knew that her perspective had altered radically.

'I am finding it hard to resume normal functioning so perhaps we are.' She waited for him to reply but he put his head in his hands. Perhaps he was feeling depressed and lonely. So much had happened in the last few months.

'But while there's life there's hope I suppose,' she heard herself say, in one of those moments when an idea disguised as a glib platitude, expresses a deep wish.

'I wish Dinah had spared us this unlikely suspicion,' Robert sounded earnest as he got up to kiss Min goodnight. She returned the kiss saying,

'Me too.'

Once all was quiet again Min went outside to let her mind wander at will. There was no moon but the sky was peppered with those twinkling specks which put her in her place. She must be content with mysteries beyond her powers of understanding and settle for the gift of witnessing their existence. Before long she began to see Michael's destiny in the context of infinity so she went inside to sleep with that small comfort.

## Coda

A vestige of the primordial forest blanket which had once covered all the islands of New Zealand before the advent of animals (including that bipedal species devoted to agriculture), still spread its impenetrable fabric over the south western corner of the south island. The incursive power of humankind had met its match in the dense rainforest where over the millennia, birds had claimed the fastness as their own where they strode and flew about fearlessly.

Nevertheless, when adventurous humans did appear from the ocean to settle the new land they brought with them an entourage of small creatures which were undaunted by the impenetrable forest and which set about penetrating it. For these aliens the reigning birds, many of which had lost the power of flight, were a cornucopia.

Now in a new era of enlightenment, repentant humans were atoning for that ancestral sin by trying to eradicate those interlopers for the sake of the dwindling birds and their green hosts. One could only imagine the collective music which had once filled the canopy and the forest floor, but which now gamely kept up a sort of memorial chorus. And in this protected island of birdsong, few alien sounds were heard.

Once a month however, the clacking noise of a helicopter intruded into an isolated settlement in the bush to bring supplies of food and fuel to a small group whose days and nights were dedicated to the survival of the remaining indigenous creatures. These isolated workers thought of themselves as lighthouse keepers maintaining a beacon of hope for vulnerable species.

Today there was to be an extraordinary delivery...

'Here they are. Thank goodness the rain has held off.'

******

True to his word, Semese Lautusi had rallied his friends over a period of months with the intention of reuniting them and celebrating the friendship forged in the warm Pacific country where he still lived and worked. It had not been easy to decide on the venue or the date for their reunion when everybody could convene. He acknowledged however that the convenience of electronic mail had made the task so much easier and had meant that he could re-establish a network after the lapse of fifteen years. He regularly stayed late at work to further the project. The hospital had seen some beneficial changes in that intervening time and Semese reflected with some satisfaction on how technology also enabled people to be treated in their own environment. His frequent overseas journeys provided him with interesting contacts some of whom had spent time training local doctors. He often thought back to the days when his friend Michael worked at the hospital and how he had hoped to return there as a doctor with a clean slate. It was however a blessing denied and only his old friend and colleague now superintendent, remembered and was still saddened by his death. It was a highly motivating factor in carrying out the task of rallying their friends.

When Semese discussed the reunion plans with Eturasi he deliberately emphasised the social aspect of the event, whereas the latter was more inclined to want to go to Queensland where Dinah was running her very successful diving school with Yushi and Fanua as active partners. That sounded rather jolly.

'You can go there any time but the chance to visit one of the most isolated conservation estates in the world is not to be sneezed at. After all there'll be plenty of great copy in it.'

Eturasi knew that was true but what about the cold and the frequent rain in what was the subantarctic rain forest. (Semese was reminded of Michael's teasing him about the fur coat which he had bought in France those years ago and which he still had stored away with silicon gel and which he had once worn in Russia; he would take it with him and give it an airing in a very private gesture.)

'Have you heard from Polly and Jim?'

'Yes. Jim is running for the US senate in Hawai'i but the elections are a few months away and they are really keen to come. They have already visited Australia apparently so New Zealand has some attraction. The twins are in the United States with their grandparents so it's perfect timing for them.'

Eturasi had come to the hospital to see the new dialysis machine so that he could write an article for the newspaper. It was a good news story for a change. He stood up to go and find the technical man who would help him to understand its function. He hoped to see the machine in action and talk to a patient.

'I'll bring the article for you to look it over before I print it,' he reassured

Semese with uncharacteristic humility which surprised them both.

'Of course.'

It wasn't often that Eturasi needed advice.

*******

Polly was a keen sender of emails and few Christmases had gone by when Eturasi didn't hear from her. According to the photos she sent the children shared the parents' heritage. The girl Stella was dark and her brother Jesse was fair-haired. Both had tanned skin and looked extrovert with Polly's big smile. They visited their grandparents in the US almost every year and had developed close relationships with their cousins there. Jim's mother had been to Hawai'i several times - her second husband had died not long after Polly and Jim were married and Jim's sense of responsibility was back on his agenda as she got older.

Polly had built up a small export business of Polynesian artifacts so she was interested in seeing Maori art and crafts in New Zealand. The few examples which she had seen in the local museum impressed her and she was hoping to find a source for the several thriving niche markets she had established in the US.

She wrote - 'I hope you won't be disappointed in me Eturasi. I haven't studied the local language after all. English is so dominant here and I admit the twins and my small enterprise have kept me busy. Jim and I are excited about returning to our old haunt on our way further south and I hear that the tourist trade is flourishing. I wonder if you could book us in to one of those gorgeous beach fales once the dates are fixed.'

Semese had got in touch with Fanua's parents and they described the life that she and Yushi were living in Queensland. They visited them regularly and were hoping that the grandson Philip would come to live with them one day so he would get to know his mother's culture. He visited Japan quite frequently and spoke Japanese because there were so many businesses owned and run by them in north eastern Australia. Yushi was enthusiastic about the reunion in New Zealand because it meant seeing his old English teacher after so long. He remembered her as rather enigmatic in those days but perhaps now he had more of an understanding of her personality because he was fluent in English and constantly met tourists from all over the world. The cosmopolitan experience meant also that he was unlikely to return to live in Japan where he might feel an outsider.

Dinah was in a relationship with one of the school's diving instructors who was a happy go lucky Australian - in contrast to Robert - so Yushi never mentioned the latter but did wonder what had happened to him. It was somewhat of a surprise at first to hear that he and Min were living together in this remote part of the world but on reflection, he realised that their shared austerity would probably be suited to the isolation. Gerard, unlike the other contacts, tracked Min down through the internet when his daughter Monique decided that she wanted to go to university in New Zealand. He had given up the café after several years and was growing cocoa for export while Yvonne was running a popular pre-school in town. They rented a small house nearby for the times when she was too tired to drive to the plantation. Gerard had called Min and she had sounded embarrassed when she found out who it was.

'Have you been talking to Semese?'

'Semese? No. Why?'

'We are organising a reunion here as soon as it's convenient for everybody. In a way, we want to remember Michael as much as to go over old times.'

'Who is going to be there?'

'Well - so far - Polly and Jim and Yushi. Perhaps Fanua. We're not sure yet about Dinah but probably Eturasi from the newspaper - and Semese of course. Robert hopes to put in an appearance.'

Gerard was silent as he interpreted that last remark. Were they still together? He remembered that last year of Min's contract when she and Robert lived in the same house but seemed to pursue independent lives. Through force of circumstance his sexual encounters with Min had petered out although she often came to the café for a coffee fix.

'Where are you living Min? I know you are not in Auckland because of the different exchange prefix.'

'I'm in the deep south and the next stop is Antarctica. Not exactly your sort of place Gerard.'

'Are you afraid I might come and find you?'

'No - you're very welcome - but you would need to be prepared for the cool temperatures, lots of rain and real isolation. Anyway - how did you find me?'

Gerard explained and then confessed his motives were connected with

Monique.

'How about Yvonne?' Min was tentative.

'She's fine. Very busy with her kids.'

Min, in one of those curious mental flashes when the mind creates a scenario based on a misinterpretation, visualised her with a local husband and several more children. He meant her pre-school of course, which she was hoping to set up when Min left.

'That's great. I wish I could help Monique but I'm at one end of the country and she'll be at the other. It's a matter of about eleven hundred miles.'

'Perhaps she and I will come and visit you in your hideaway before she enrols at the university.'

Min felt her perch sway slightly, but she tried to sound encouraging.

'Get in touch with Semese at the hospital. He's coordinating things, the dear man.'

When she regaled Robert with the gist of the conversation he surprised her by saying how much he would enjoy introducing Gerard to the Bush which, as Min so often teased him, he thought of as his very own.

'Nowhere else in the world does the word have the unique meaning that it does here.' He rubbed his hands together at the prospect. It was a mannerism he had acquired in the new climate and it did double duty as enthusiasm and a warming technique. Min wondered vaguely why Gerard provoked this response. Some primal territorial urge perhaps?

She decided to email Semese. Things were starting to sound serious and she and Robert needed plenty of time to get permission and then to prepare for the influx. There was no corner shop for emergency supplies and she wanted this show to be an experience that everyone would remember.

******

Robert went outside to watch the helicopter descend into the clearing beyond the fence line while Min rushed around in an unconstructive panic. She smeared a gash of lipstick across her mouth for the first time for months and was horrified by the look and tried to remove it leaving a sort of clownish smudge. The rotor blades were still turning so she went to the bathroom and washed her face. It was an unvarnished middle- aged woman who looked at her from the mirror.

'Bugger. It's too late to call it off now. Here goes.'

She took a deep breath and stretched her face in a practice grin, splayed her nostrils and pulled back her shoulders. It was so long since she had faced anyone other than Robert and the other hairy conservation workers, that awareness of her image suddenly smote her.

The first person to touch down was Fanua who looked as fit as a racehorse with a baseball cap containing her thick hair. Behind her was Polly whose smile seemed to dwarf her other features as she signalled with both arms to Min. Jim looked more substantial than the last time they had seen one another and when he took off his cap to wave it madly, his baldness was a shock.

'Hello- Hello - and welcome to our hideout in the bush!'

'This is something truly special,' Polly breathed reverently.

'You look as if you belong right here,' said Jim with feeling and Min knew he meant it as a compliment.

As she hugged him she saw over Jim's shoulder, Semese and Gerard leaving the helicopter. For a split second she wondered who the beautiful young woman was, whose hand Gerard was holding as she stepped down the short ladder.

Gerard was laughing and saying something in French as he propelled his daughter in front of him to embrace this stranger in what seemed like a chilly sort of jungle. Min said - 'You must be Monique' - and thought how trite she sounded as they gave each other a double peck. Gerard almost elbowed his daughter out of the way as he put his arms around Min and bobbed his face from side to side in a quadruple salutation. Min felt herself sway on impact and took a backward step to steady herself from falling. She looked at Semese who was standing patiently with an amused smile. She wondered briefly about whether to hug him as Gerard let go of her, but he put out his hand and with the other one took her shoulder in a firm grip.

'Talofa lava. Great to be here.'

Min smoothed back her hair and took a deep breath.

'Thank you so much for all you have done. You have been wonderful to organise us all! Couldn't Eturasi make it after all?'

Semese turned towards the helicopter and then turned back to Min; he shrugged his shoulders and said that he must be still talking to the pilot. Just then the two men appeared at the gangway and Eturasi waved in a wide arc.

'This young man is married to one of my cousins - can you believe it?' he said as he shook Min's hand. She hardly recognised him now that his hair was white, highlighting his brown skin. He had also put on a lot of weight.

'What a remote place you've chosen. Steve tells me he calls only once a month and it's nearly always raining!'

Min laughed and said hello to Steve who had become a lifeline during the time since she and Robert had arrived. Today he brought the requisites which Min was hoping would be sufficient for the human invasion and about which she was now having doubts. Steve sensing her anxiety, said that he would unload the cargo while everyone else took up the threads.

'I've brought extra clothing,' he confided to Min, 'in case our friends have underestimated what they're getting into.'

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, letting her hunched shoulders drop.

'You're a pal,' she said, as she followed the others towards the house. She could hear a babble of voices and small bursts of laughter as she walked in to face the moment they had all looked forward to for so long. Robert had managed to find enough seating but Eturasi and Semese were sitting cross-legged on the floor next to Fanua who was beaming with pleasure. Semese looked at Min and said that they were hearing about Yushi's last-minute cancellation because of an influx of tourists which Dinah couldn't handle without him.

'He sends his apologies and he hopes to come and see you on his own very soon,' she reassured Min. 'He's really disappointed - and so's Dinah. They want me to give you all their best wishes.' Fanua looked around and Polly said,

'And so say all of us.'

Robert took over at that point much to Min s relief and welcomed them all while regretting Yushi's absence.

'Of course the other absence we are all too conscious of is Michael's, and in a way, Min and I would like this reunion to be a way of remembering him as a friend and a very good person. There was something about him that inspired respect and affection and his death will always be a mystery I suppose.'

Min felt a sudden chill go through her and she was close to tears. The drama of it all was overwhelming and she was having difficulty remaining calm. To distract herself, she announced breezily that it was time for refreshments.

There was a generalised murmur and Jim spoke up to thank Semese for his hard work.

'Poll and I have dreamed of seeing you all again some day, but to be situated in this remote remnant of what seems to be virgin vegetation (the alliteration is serendipitous!) is truly an unhoped-for bonus. Semese - you have done a great job in arranging everything and our thanks to Min and Robert for offering us the chance to see this amazing spot...'

A loud clap from Gerard and the word Bravo interrupted Jim's speech and "For They are Jolly Good Fellows" was instigated by Polly in a hearty mezzo-soprano voice. Monique looked bewildered and Min wondered if her father's idea of bringing her here had met some resistance. After all these people were total strangers to her. Min began to take orders starting with Monique to try and put her at ease.

'Could I have only hot water please?' Her voice was slightly accented with the pure vowels of the local language. Min was charmed.

'I suppose English is your second language, ' she said once again stating the obvious perhaps. Monique explained that she was comfortable in three languages but would have to work on her English vocabulary if she wanted to become a journalist.

Gerard was smiling with approval and pride from the other side of the room so Min asked if he would make the coffee.

'Without a machine?' he drawled, his hands in the air. He came to her side and put his arm around her shoulders.

'Of course, ma chère. Je vous ai apporté quelques paquets.' His bounce was undiminished, thought Min.

Polly had taken orders while Min was thus waylaid and she sidled over with her numbers. Min took her by the hand and led her and Gerard to the kitchen to help her. She showed them the system for heating water on a two-hob spirit stove and brought out the powdered milk to mix.

'This will be a totally new taste experience,' she told them and a flash of apprehension crossed Gerard's face.

'But interesting,' he murmured.

'Have you forgotten the cyclone?' asked Polly.

'Ah - the cyclone - yes - but now we are safe and with friends,' he said with perked-up conviction.

His irrepressible energy is such a tonic, Min thought. Over the years, I've forgotten its effect on me. Woo-oo. This is going to be OK.'

There was a certain hysteria just below the surface and Robert looked forward to a calmer atmosphere once everybody had got over the business of recognising one another and acknowledging the freight of years. He very much wanted to explain his work in conservation and he had an idea which met with enthusiasm when he mooted it.

'So much has changed - in the world and in our lives - I wondered if tomorrow we could all spend five to ten minutes giving a rundown on our current activities. I for one, would like to bore you with the programme we have running here.'

'That'd be great,' said Polly who smiled encouragingly around the room.

'Hear, hear,' said Jim, 'but perhaps we'll need a chair person to keep us on track.'

Polly nudged him.

'Keep you on track you mean. Jim's a novice politician,' she explained with a mixture of apprehension and pride.

The evening meal was a joint project of bearers, servers, consumers, talkers and clearer-uppers. When it came to organising the sleeping arrangements, Min put all the bedding in a heap in the middle of the floor and let everybody choose what they needed. She said that if anyone was cold in the night they could help themselves to the leftover pile.

When the others had retired having queued up for the bathroom facilities, Min and Robert went to sit on the outside verandah and breathe in the brisk night air while listening to the secret sounds of the Bush. Robert put his arm around her and whispered his own private little sounds in her ear. Min suddenly felt as if their souls were speaking on a level beyond words and for the first time in a very long time, she knew contentment. Somehow a circle had been joined finally in surroundings of indescribable beauty and she knew her place in the universe at last.

###

## Acknowledgements

Thanks for reading my book.

Mary Clare

maryclaremorganti@yahoo.co.nz

I wish to thank friends who read through the early draft of the book: Suzanne Dowling, Peter Joyce, Randall McMullan, John Powell, Anne Rowe and Alison Smith.

If you have acquired this publication without cost please consider making a donation to the _Wellington Free Ambulance_ or to a similar charity in your area. To donate use link: www.wfa.org.nz

Cover painting for the book was adapted by Kaivai Andrews and Emily Rowe from an original work by Vanya Taule'alo.

