Chapter Seventeen
Elora
The door opens to reveal the guy in the photo that Linc showed me. He’s tall, like Linc, and of the same build, so broad shouldered but not too big. His dark hair is gray at the temples, and he has a neat gray beard. His eyes are a bright green, just like Linc’s. Oh my God, there’s absolutely no doubt in my mind at all that this is his real father.
The two of them stare at each other for a moment. I remain quiet, letting them drink each other in. Edmund looks amused, presumably at the likeness, and curious. I glance at Linc. His eyes are wide, and he’s breathing fast. I know he’s super nervous; he’s been like it all day.
Edmund finally smiles and holds out his hand. “Well, hello at last.”
“Hi,” Linc replies softly, and he slots his hand into Edmund’s. The two of them shake, then stop and laugh. Edmund pulls Linc toward him, and to my delight he puts his arms around Linc and gives him a big blokey bearhug.
Linc holds his arms out to the side, obviously shocked, then returns the hug, and they stand there for a moment, both enjoying this first contact. Emotion rushes through me as I think about what Linc must be feeling. For so long he’s lived in the shadow of Don Green. How absolutely fantastic to finally step out into the sunlight.
Eventually, they release each other with another laugh, and Edmund steps back and says, “Come and meet Isabel, she’s in the living room, just down there.”
Linc walks in, and I step into the house and smile at Edmund. “I’m—”
“Elora,” he says. “Of course. How nice to meet you.” He shakes my hand. “It was kind of you to come with Linc today.”
“He’s very nervous,” I say softly. “This means so much to him, you have no idea. Thank you for reacting to the news so well, and asking to meet him.”
“Well it’s not every day you find out you have a son you didn’t know about,” he says with Linc’s easy manner, closing the door behind him. He gestures for me to go ahead of him along the corridor, and I walk down to where Linc is standing at the entrance to the living room, hesitating.
Edmund slips past me, goes up to Linc, and says, “In you go.”
Linc walks in, and I follow him. A woman is in the process of putting a coffee plunger and cups onto the table along with a plate of biscuits. She’s in her fifties, with a mass of curly salt-and-pepper hair that reaches past her shoulders, and she’s wearing black cut-down jeans and a loose white top.
She straightens as we enter and stares at Linc. “Oh my God,” she says, and then she laughs. “Well, that’s got rid of any doubt.”
Linc just stands there, flustered, and suddenly he’s the fourteen-year-old boy I remember who hadn’t yet developed his social skills, and who was baffled by everyone else’s casual ability to do small talk.
I smile and walk forward, holding out my hand. “I’m Elora, Linc’s friend. It’s so nice to meet you—thank you for inviting us to your home.”
“Aw, you’re very welcome.” She shakes my hand, although her gaze slides to Linc, who’s still standing there awkwardly.
“He’s all right,” I say. “His brain’s just shut down for a moment. He’ll be back in a minute.”
Isabel and Edmund laugh, and Linc gives a bashful smile.
“Come and sit down,” Isabel says, gesturing to the sofa. “Can I get you both tea, coffee, or a cold drink?”
“Coffee would be great, thank you,” I say, “and I’m sure he’ll have the same.”
She nods and begins pouring as we sit on the sofa, side by side.
Edmund sinks into the chair opposite us, leaning forward, elbows on his knees and his hands linked. “Hard to know where to start,” he says, his brows drawing together.
I can understand why everyone feels so awkward. Even though Isabel has obviously been positive about the news and supportive of her husband, I’m sure Edmund’s worried that Linc is going to ask questions about how he met his mother all those years ago and what happened. It might have been before he met Isabel, but I would expect that few people are comfortable with talking about ex-partners like that.
Linc is still tongue-tied, and I remember him saying, I always say the wrong thing and put my foot in it , so maybe he’s worried he’s going to do that now.
I give his hand a quick squeeze, then say, “I understand you’re both teachers. At the local high school?”
Edmund nods. “Both history teachers.”
“That’s wonderful,” I say. “Linc and I are mad about history and archaeology.”
“You work in the field too?” Isabel asks, placing my cup in front of me.
“Yes, in the National Museum in Wellington. My brother’s the director there. I do some conservation work and help with the exhibitions. I’m doing a Masters, specializing in Osteology.” I don’t want to monopolize the conversation, but I know that Linc needs a few moments to gather himself.
“She’s being modest,” he says, having apparently found his tongue. “She’s the smartest person I know.” He smiles at me. “Elora was the one who first got me interested in archaeology.”
“Oh yes, Edmund said that you told him you grew up together. At Greenfield, right?”
Linc nods. “Yeah. I was sent there when I was fourteen.”
“Why so?” she asks.
“Isabel,” Edmund scolds. He gives us an apologetic look. “She’s very direct. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“That’s okay,” Linc says. “I don’t mind. It’s not a pretty story, that’s all.”
And so, as we all sip our coffee, he tells them the tale of how he ended up at Greenfield. At first he keeps it brief, without going into much detail, but Isabel asks a lot of questions and I encourage him to answer, and eventually he reveals it all—Don’s continual abuse, his mother’s refusal to intervene, and eventually the moment it all came to a head, when he was taken to hospital.
Isabel covers her mouth, and Edmund leans back, an elbow on the arm of his chair, and massages his forehead.
“When I first saw him, sitting outside my father’s office,” I say, “his face was covered in scars.”
Linc’s eyes meet mine, his brow furrowing, as if he’s only realizing now how much it pains me to remember that moment.
“That’s awful,” Isabel says. “I’m so sorry you went through all that. So Don knew you weren’t his son?”
“Apparently,” Linc says. “I don’t know why he stayed with my mother, or why she stayed with him. None of it makes any sense to me now. He punished me to punish her, I guess. Anyway. It’s all in the past now. If it hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have met Elora and her family, so… silver lining and all that.”
Edmund and Isabel exchange glances; I can only imagine what they’re thinking.
“So, anyway,” I say cheerfully, “my father has always been interested in archaeology, and he brought me and my brothers up the same way. We’re all into it—Fraser, he’s the oldest, runs the museum, and Joel is an underwater archaeologist. Back then, we all used to watch Raiders of the Lost Ark and pretend we were Indiana Jones.”
“We used to tease Lora that she couldn’t be Indi,” Linc says, covering up his emotion. “She had to be Lara Croft.”
“That wasn’t a hardship. Lara Croft is cooler than Indi.”
“Is not,” he says, and all four of us laugh.
“So eventually you left Greenfield,” Isabel says. “What made you leave New Zealand?”
“I wanted to travel,” Linc says, not looking at me, “and Atticus—Lora’s father—got me a place with TAG18—The Archaeology Group. They place students in excavations across the world. I went to Cairo, and Israel, and Germany, and Scandinavia, and eventually England.”
He lifts a hand and scratches the back of his neck, right over his wings. I don’t know if he realizes he’s doing it, but it makes me soften as I think of him getting that tattoo because he missed me.
“This is the first time you’ve been back to New Zealand?” Edmund asks.
Linc nods. “I’d been asked to speak at the annual Australia and New Zealand Archaeology Society conference—this year they’re combining it with a cruise around the two countries. It was a long way to come, but then I found out that my father—I mean Don—had died, and I thought I’d combine the funeral with the cruise.”
“I’m surprised you wanted to go to the funeral,” Isabel says.
“I wanted to make sure he was really dead,” Linc says flatly.
There’s an awkward silence.
“Well,” I say, “they cremated him, so we can only hope.”
Linc looks at me for a moment, then bursts out laughing, and Edmund and Isabel start smiling, too.
“We were wondering…” Edmund glances at Isabel, who gives a small nod. “You don’t have to, of course, but we wondered whether you would both like to stay for dinner this evening. I was going to throw some sausages on the barbie, and Isabel does these really nice seafood kebabs. And Marie is going to call in around six thirty. She’d like to meet you. But of course, we understand if that’s a bit much for now. It’s entirely up to you.”
Linc swallows hard and looks at me. I just smile. His lips curve up a little. Then he looks back at Edmund. “We’d like that very much,” he says, his voice husky.
*
It turns out to be a lovely evening. The seafood kebabs are tremendous, although Edmund burns the sausages a tad. Linc was once left in charge of the barbecue at Greenfield and burned all the sausages black, so I’m able to tease them that they’re like father, like son, which makes them both smile.
Isabel has made a huge bowl of potato salad and a green salad to go with it, and we eat it out on the deck, then have coffee while we watch the sun sink slowly toward the horizon and turn the sky the most beautiful shades of pink and orange.
Marie turns up just after six thirty. She’s a younger version of Isabel, with the same wild curly hair, only hers has yet to show signs of gray. She’s bright and bubbly, an obvious candidate for a primary school teacher. Her eyes are full of curiosity when she first shakes hands with Linc.
It’s interesting watching him with her. I can tell he’s nervous, but he covers it with professional charm, making her smile immediately as he teases her about being a scientist rather than a historian. She teases him back that he’s not just funny, he’s pre-hysterical, and that kind of sets the scene for the rest of the evening.
At one point, while Isabel goes indoors to fetch some citronella candles to keep the bugs away, and Marie makes yet another pot of coffee, Linc visits the bathroom, leaving me alone with Edmund.
“Thank you for this,” I tell him. “It means so much to Linc.”
“The girls like him,” he says. “I’m glad. He seems like a nice guy.”
“He’s a wonderful guy,” I reply. “You should be very proud of him.”
He studies me with a slight smile that reminds me so much of Linc that I almost blush. “He’s clearly very fond of you,” he says.
“Oh, well, we’ve known each other a long time,” I reply, flustered. “We’re almost like brother and sister.”
“I don’t think he sees you that way.”
I rub my nose, thinking of the way he kissed me back in the car. “Maybe not.”
“He told me that you saved him,” he says. “When he arrived at Greenfield.”
“My dad is the chaplain there. It’s his job to provide emotional support for all the students, but he was exceptionally fond of Linc and kind of took him under his wing.”
“What happened? Linc mentioned being sent away, but he didn’t elaborate, and I didn’t like to ask.”
I hesitate, not sure whether Linc wants me to reveal those events. Then I think, what does it matter? We didn’t do anything wrong. “Linc and I were very fond of each other, and my father disapproved, mainly because of our age difference—Linc is four years older than me. It was very innocent—I was only fourteen. My father caught us having our first kiss and went ballistic. He took Linc away that night. We weren’t even able to say goodbye.”
Edmund’s brow furrows. “That’s harsh.”
“It’s very harsh. But it’s a reflection of how much my father liked Linc and thought of him as a son. He saw it as a betrayal of his trust. The worst thing is that he told us all that Linc had walked out. I cried for weeks.”
“And you’ve only just found out that it wasn’t his choice to leave?”
“Yes. I’m very angry with my father at the moment. But I’m trying to understand that he did it with the best of intentions.” I glance at the door, where I can hear Linc talking to Marie. “He’s been through such a lot. He hasn’t told you half of what Don did to him. Although that last assault was the worst, he told me other stories of terrible physical abuse—being beaten with a belt, being kicked, and once Don held Linc’s arm over the stove—he’s still got the burn, just under the elbow.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. It was vicious. Nancy never tried to stop it; I don’t know why. And then my father abandoned him, too. It’s just… I want you to understand why meeting you is so important to him. His face when you rang him to explain the results of the test was a picture. He can’t believe that Don isn’t his father. He said he wants to get ‘liber sum’ tattooed on him somewhere.”
That makes him smile. “I had a cancer scare a couple of years ago. It all turned out fine, but if I was to get a tattoo, it would say Carpe Diem. Life’s too short for anything else.”
I look up as Linc exits the house and smile at him as he crosses to sit back beside me. “We were just talking about tattoos.”
He stretches out his arms to look at his. “My passport.” He grins.
“Very impressive,” Edmund says. “I’m too much of a wuss to get one.”
“Me too,” I reply.
“Isabel and the girls all have one,” he says as they both come out, Isabel with the candles and Marie with the coffee. “They all got matching butterflies.” The two women reveal them on their inner arm, above the wrist.
“What a lovely idea,” I say genuinely.
“I can see the appeal,” Edmund continues. “Maybe we should get matching ones,” he jokes to Linc. “Two pictures of Churchill or something.”
“Hey, I’m up for it if you are,” Linc teases.
“You’re running out of space,” I scoff.
“Still some places I haven’t got one,” he says, and waggles his eyebrows.
“Maybe we should both get the Leaning Tower of Pisa there,” Edmund says, and we all burst out laughing.
We stay for another hour, until the light starts to fade, and then Linc says it’s time we made a move.
We offer to help them carry the cups and plates inside, but Isabel brushes us away. We walk through the living room, then stop in the hallway to say goodbye.
“I’m so glad you had the time to meet us,” Edmund says.
“Me too,” Linc replies.
The two guys study each other for a moment. Then they move closer and have a bearhug.
I turn to the two women and hold out a hand. “It was lovely to meet you both.”
“Likewise,” Isabel says, coming forward to kiss my cheek, and Marie does the same. Then, when Edmund releases Linc, they kiss him goodbye, too.
“I hope you’ll keep in touch,” Edmund says.
“Of course.” Linc’s voice has gone husky again. He’s feeling emotional. “I’d like that.”
“Call soon.”
“I will.”
Edmund opens the door, and we go and get in the car. Linc reverses out, and we wave goodbye, then head off back to Queenstown.
The sun has nearly set, and the mountains are turning the color of blueberries, whilst to our right someone has filled the lake with treacle.
Linc is quiet, his elbow resting on the windowsill, his fingers on his lips. I leave him to his thoughts and look out at the shops and houses on my left, thinking about what Edmund said about Carpe Diem. If something terrible happened to me tomorrow, would I have regrets? Of course you can’t always think like that. You can’t live for the moment and spend every cent you own because the likelihood is that something terrible won’t happen and you’ll have no money for the next day. And likewise, you can’t go around acting as if the world is going to end because you’ll end up taking too many risks and endangering yourself.
But I jumped off a bridge today, and survived. I was terrified, but I’m so, so glad I did it. Linc understands that sometimes you need to take a risk, because the joy it brings you afterward is worth the terror you feel leading up to it.
Nothing lasts forever. Archaeology teaches us that. Civilizations rise and fall; buildings—even stone ones—tower over cities and then crumble to dust. We’re gone in the blink of an eye, our lives—compared to the history of the world—a blip in existence. And yet we ruminate and agonize over the smallest of problems because we’re worried about the effect our actions will have, when they won’t even cause a ripple in the ocean of time.
Despite being determined not to let my assault define me, I know I’ve spent too long brooding on it and letting it influence my actions going forward. I’ve let fear govern me for far too long.
Carpe diem, Elora. Liber sum. You’re free now. You have all this time left on Earth. What are you going to do with it?
Linc indicates, and I realize we’ve reached the hotel without saying anything. He steers the car into the car park, and we get out and go into the elevator, pressing the button to go up.
We study each other across the carriage, and I think how handsome he is, more so than when he was eighteen, and he was gorgeous then. Now, though, he’s filled out, and he has a man’s build, a man’s hair, a man’s deep voice. He’s not a boy anymore, and I’m not a girl. I’m a woman, with a woman’s needs and desires, and I’m being foolish if I think I can ignore them for the rest of my life. I don’t want to. I don’t want to let fear win.
He’s watching me, a tender expression on his face. “Thank you for going with me tonight.”
“You’re welcome.” I clear my throat. “Can I ask you a question?”
“Of course.”
Just as I did on the jump platform, I summon every ounce of courage I own and take a deep breath. “Would you like to go to bed with me?”