Chapter Twenty-Four
Orson
Scarlett’s jaw sags. “What are you talking about?”
I pause, having second thoughts about telling her. She’s very upset, and this is only going to make things worse. But it’s too late now. She wanted to know everything.
“Dad told me on the night of Kingi’s party, after I confronted him with what you’d told me. I said Kingi was auditing the commune’s finances because it was struggling, and I said I had my suspicions about George. And Dad said there was something I needed to know. That his feud with Blake wasn’t just about Amiria. He said when they were in their first year at uni, one of their courses involved developing a business proposal for a university incubator program.”
“A what?”
“It’s a business development initiative run by a university that helps students turn ideas into real businesses. Because of what happened with his birth parents, Dad had this idea for setting up a retreat for women, and Blake thought it was a great idea and was really excited about the notion of helping others with their business knowledge. The initiative offered seed funding—that means a small amount of money to get started, as well as mentorship and networking opportunities. It was organized as a competition, and winning it would have meant money for their new company, as well as kudos in the business community. Dad said he brought the drive and numbers, while Blake brought the big-picture vision.”
“Kahukura was Spencer’s idea?”
“Yes, but they also both had a friend at uni who’d been abused by her partner, and Blake fully supported the idea.”
She looks dumbfounded. “So what went wrong? ”
I take a deep breath. “Blake stole from the project fund to buy materials, and he fudged the results to make the project succeed. He said they were going to win anyway, and he just gave them a little push. Dad was furious when he found out what Blake had done because he wanted to win on merit, not manipulation. He believes in hard work, integrity, and earning everything. Blake said he believed in helping people and fixing broken systems, even if it meant bending the rules. That the end justifies the means. This happened in the same month as your mum choosing your dad over mine.”
She presses a hand over her heart. Hopefully she won’t faint again.
“Blake went on to set up Kahukura when he left university,” I continue. “Dad was angry because he felt Blake took all the credit for it when it was actually his idea. He hated the way Blake made the retreat part of the commune because he felt it turned it into some kind of bohemian safe haven, as if trauma could be cured with incense and group hugs. He was convinced it became a utopian mess that was more about ideals than a place for real recovery. At the time he wanted nothing to do with it. He thought they worked together well and that they could have created something amazing, but Blake ruined it. So he walked away—both from their friendship and from the retreat. He turned his talents to making money from property, but it’s why he embraced the idea of the Midnight Circle so wholeheartedly. He believes in helping those less fortunate than himself, and he’s brought me up to be the same. But he acknowledged that despite not agreeing with many of your father’s actions, he has helped a lot of women.”
It’s a long speech, and I’m a little breathless when I finish. I so want Scarlett to believe me and to understand that Dad doesn’t think Blake is all bad.
She’s trembling now, though. Oh shit…
“I don’t…” She can’t get the words out. “Why…” She gives up and starts crying—great heart-rending sobs that punch me right in the stomach. Her knees give way, and I catch her just before she falls to the floor.
I lift her into my arms, open the door, carry her inside, and push the door shut behind me. I take her into the small living room and over to the sofa, and I turn and sit on it, cradling her on my lap .
She curls up into a ball, and I hold her while she cries, and cries, and cries. I don’t move. I rest my lips on her hair, while outside the sun sinks toward the horizon, and the shadows creep across the grass.
At one point, I hear footsteps outside. I’d texted Kingi quickly before I caught up with Scarlett, suggesting he and George give us some space, so I don’t think it’s him. It turns out to be Ana, already looking concerned, so I assume she’s heard of the kerfuffle at the office. She slips into the house, sees us immediately, and comes over.
“Scarlett,” she whispers, dropping to her knees in front of us. “Honey.” She puts a hand on her back, but Scarlett turns away from her and buries her face in my shirt.
Ana withdraws her hand. “She’s been so strong,” she says. “She’s held us all together with both hands since Mum died. She hasn’t allowed herself to grieve.”
So it’s all pouring out of her in one go.
“What happened?” Ana whispers.
I look at Scarlett, who’s still sobbing. “You’ll have to talk to Scarlett about that.”
“All right.” Ana says. “I’ll make a cup of tea.” It’s the cure-all for everything, and she goes into the kitchen.
The sound of the kettle and the clink of a spoon in the mugs somehow grounds me, and it must do the same to Scarlett, because she gradually relaxes in my arms. She turns her face and rests her cheek on my shoulder, her lips close to my throat, but she doesn’t attempt to move away. I keep my arms tight around her, happy to hold her.
Ana comes back out with two mugs of tea and leaves them on the low table in front of us.
“Thank you,” I say softly.
She smiles, her expression softening as she looks at us both. “I’m going to take a shower.” She bends and kisses Scarlett’s head, then walks out, and soon I hear a door closing.
“How are you doing?” I murmur.
“I’m okay.” Her whisper is so soft I almost miss it.
“You want a sip of tea?”
She clears her throat, then pushes herself up. She wipes her face, gets up, and retrieves some tissues from a box on the table. For a moment I think she’s going to sit in one of the armchairs and put some distance between us. But after she’s blown her nose and wiped her face, she picks up her tea, then comes to sit next to me, turning toward me. She sips the tea, then rests her temple on the back of the sofa and lets out a long sigh. She looks incredibly sad and defeated.
I unbutton my jacket, move forward to slip it off, pick up my tea, then sit back again.
It occurs to me that I don’t experience high-emotion situations very often. At work I defuse tension with humor and I’m careful to deal with any hot tempers by deflecting and distracting the upset person. Socially, my friends and family are mostly high achievers who are also keen to remove drama from their lives. Most of my relationships have come to a mutual end. So this whole experience has unsettled me. Maybe I’m more like my father than I care to admit.
I can’t imagine what she must be feeling. She hasn’t asked me to leave, but other than give her a hug, I’m not sure how to comfort her. How can I make things better, when she must feel as if her whole world is falling apart?
“Did I do the right thing in telling you?” I ask. She didn’t answer me in the office, and I feel a heaviness inside at the thought that I’m the one who’s crushed her.
She looks down at her mug and traces a finger around the rim. “I wish I didn’t know. But that’s not the same thing. It would be hypocritical to tell you that truth is the most important thing to me, then to say you shouldn’t have told me.”
“It doesn’t make it any easier to handle.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
We sit there quietly, sipping our tea. I hear the bathroom door open, and Ana’s footsteps heading down to what I presume is her room, and the door opens and closes.
There’s maybe an hour until sunset. The sunlight pouring into the room is the color of treacle. Scarlett gives a little shiver, as if she’s cold, although it’s warm in the room. Or maybe it’s a shudder as she thinks of what she’s learned today. I feel as if a cyclone has blown through the village, and now the wind is dying down, and it’s time to deal with the fallout—fixing all the fences that have blown over, and replacing the tiles that have been ripped from the roofs.
“Talk to me,” I say.
She scratches at a mark on her mug. “You said my dad thought that helping people was the most important thing, even if it meant bending the rules. Do you agree? ”
I inhale, then exhale slowly. I need to answer this carefully. “I understand why your dad took the money. He loved your mum, and he didn’t want to lose her. But I think he should have gone to the Elders and asked if he could borrow from the funds. I thought that was what the idea of the commune was about—dealing with problems together.”
She gives a small nod. “He could also have accepted your dad’s offer of the money.”
“Yes, true.”
“Pride stopped him. That stupid feud. If he’d accepted Spencer’s offer, both of my parents might still be here.” She wipes fresh tears from her face.
I don’t reply to that because she’s not wrong. Instead, I say, “How are you feeling now?”
“Hurt. Sad. Ashamed. Angry.”
“At George?”
“No. He’s a sweetheart. He just wanted to protect me and Ana.”
“Are you angry at me?”
She gives a small smile. “No, of course not.”
“At my dad?”
“No. At myself.”
Now I’m baffled. “None of it is your fault.”
“Maybe not, but I’m embarrassed and ashamed about what a fool I’ve been. Ever since we’ve met, I’ve talked to you as if we at the commune are somehow superior to you. I said you are married to money, and we are all about family, and community, and love, and roses, and blah blah blah…” Her voice holds a ton of sarcasm, and her cheeks flush.
Pain flares inside my chest. I wanted to remove her rose-tinted spectacles, but I regret it now. I loved her positivity, and the way she always found the silver lining in every cloud. I thought that her naivety would eventually cause problems, and I was right, but that doesn’t make it any easier to watch. I feel as if I’m observing a scientist carrying out vivisection on a baby rabbit. The aim might be to make sure a drug is safe for consumption, so the outcome is a positive one, but that doesn’t mean the process isn’t cruel and heartbreaking to watch.
“I feel so incredibly foolish,” she whispers. “I thought my dad was perfect.”
I smile. “Every girl does. ”
She carries on as if I haven’t spoken. “Everyone must have been laughing at me. Stupid, innocent Scarlett, thinking we’d built something worthwhile here.”
“You have,” I say firmly. “What’s happened today hasn’t changed that.”
“I thought my father had values, and integrity, and principles, but it was all just a house of cards.” Tears tip over her lashes. I don’t think she’s even aware of them.
“Do you believe there are times when the end justifies the means?” I ask. “I mean, I know you think the same healthcare should be available to everyone, regardless of whether they have money or not. So do I, as it happens. So bearing in mind that the system sucks, do you understand why he did it?”
“I understand. But he shouldn’t have stolen from his friends and family. Mum wouldn’t have wanted that.”
“No, I suppose not.”
She looks away, out of the window, across the green. “Your analogy of The Matrix was very apt.”
“Maybe. But don’t forget that the moral of the movie is that knowledge and self-awareness lead to positive growth and change, even if the truth is painful and uncomfortable.”
She looks back at me and wipes her face again. “I understand. But I wish it didn’t hurt quite so much.” She starts crying again.
I take her mug and put it with mine on the table, then pull her into my arms again. I turn and lie back on the cushions, stretching out and bringing her with me, turning a little so she’s tucked against the back of the sofa and can’t fall off.
Both her parents have died. She has a younger sister she’s obviously felt the need to look after and protect, and she also found out that she owns the land that Kahukura is built on, which is a huge responsibility. And now she’s discovered something about her father that has shaken all her core values and principles like an earthquake. She’ll have to deal with the aftershocks for a long while. But hopefully when she rebuilds, the foundations will be stronger for it.
Half an hour later, Ana comes out, leans over the sofa, and sees that Scarlett is asleep. She goes off, returns with a blanket, and covers us both.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
She gives a small smile and returns to her room .
I fall into a light doze, only stirring when Scarlett finally wakes. It’s dark now, the only light from the moon outside, which casts us in a silvery light.
“How are you doing?” I ask as we both sit up.
“I’m a bit stiff.” She gives a watery smile. “I need to go to bed. Do you… want to come with me?”
I’m tempted, but I say, “No, I’ll head back to my apartment. I think you need some time alone, and to explain everything to Ana. So I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Is that okay?”
She nods. “I’m sorry we missed the play.”
“It’s fine. Try to get some sleep.”
“All right.”
I pick up my jacket and car keys, and we cross to the door. She opens it, and I go out, then stop on the doorstep.
I turn and cup her face. “Everything’s going to be okay,” I tell her.
“It doesn’t feel like it at the moment,” she whispers.
“I know. But you’ll be fine. You’re strong Scarlett.” I lower my head and press my lips to hers, just once, soft as a feather. “Trust me.”
“I do.”
Surprised, I kiss her nose, then lower my hand and move back. We study each other for a moment. Then I give a small smile, turn, and walk away, hearing the door close behind me.