Dark Mirror. Daphne Clair
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effort, Fler wrenched her mind around to business. For the past few years the university in conjunction with local groups had run a three-week summer school from the end of January into February, based at Hurumoana.
Some tutors were local, but others from the university staff stayed at the guest house, and the motor camp just five minutes’ walk away accommodated many of the students. It meant the guest house was fully booked when the peak holiday season was just declining.
* * *
It wasn’t always easy to get to Auckland but Fler made sure she visited Tansy several times in the following months. To her relief, the girl seemed to be working hard—too hard? Fler wondered anxiously, noting her thinness and hollow eyes.
When Fler tentatively asked if she had seen Kyle Ranburn, Tansy gave her a rather peculiar look and said, ‘I’m in his class on social factors in nineteenth-century New Zealand. Of course I see him. But I don’t embarrass him. I know he’d hate that.’
‘Well, good,’ Fler murmured rather uncertainly. It galled her that Tansy was still more concerned about that unscrupulous exploitative male than about her own feelings. But clearly she would brook no criticism of her idol.
Tansy said, ‘I had a talk with Kyle. He was very understanding. Those pills, you know...it was just a way of getting attention. Nothing like that will happen again. From now on I’m going to be an adult.’
Fler didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But she supposed that was good news. She hoped Tansy was able to live up to her resolution.
* * *
Exam time came and then Tansy was home for the long Christmas holidays. She looked tired and pale and slept a lot the first few days, but said it was just the stress of examinations. She helped out around the guest house when the usual holiday influx arrived and, as she had for the last few years, Fler put her on the payroll.
‘But I can’t stay through until February,’ Tansy told her. ‘I’ve put my name down for an archaeology dig in the South Island. Someone found a pioneer village buried in the bush down there, from the days of the Otago gold rush. They need students to help, and it’d be good for my course credits.’
Swallowing disappointment, Fler said, ‘It sounds fun. Will they pay you?’
‘Uh-uh. But it’s experience. And...well, I want to go. You don’t mind, do you?’
Of course she didn’t mind, Fler assured her. ‘If you need some money for expenses, I could help out with a small loan.’
‘Thanks.’ Tansy gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘My courses are costing you enough as it is. I’ll try to do without a subsidy for this.’
She didn’t mention Kyle Ranburn all the time she was home, and Fler thought, That must be all over, thank goodness. When Fler saw her off in time for the South Island trip, Tansy looked almost glowing with anticipation.
‘Will you miss me?’ she teased as Fler kissed her goodbye.
‘Of course I will.’ Fler smiled back at her and touched a fingertip to her nose as she used to when Tansy was a little girl. ‘You behave, now.’
Tansy laughed as she clambered aboard the bus lugging a bulging red pack. It was good to see her so happy, Fler thought. Quite her old self again.
* * *
The next week was a busy period for the guest house. As visitors moved out the rooms had to be prepared for those shortly moving in. The local organiser of the summer school who liaised with the university course co-ordinator was continually checking on this detail or that.
Rae and Fler allotted rooms for the tutors and the course co-ordinator. There was to be a creative writing course and one on European influences in the Pacific, as well as a geology group, print-making, a marine biology class and a course in video filming, all taught by visiting tutors from the university. Advanced pottery and two art classes were being conducted by local and visiting artists, and a saturation course in spoken Maori was to be centred on the nearby marae.
The course co-ordinator, a smartly dressed young woman with an air of brisk efficiency, arrived driving a van full of assorted teaching materials. She was followed within minutes by four of the tutors sharing a car. Fler was ushering the co-ordinator into her room while Rae did the same for the others, when they heard another car draw up in the courtyard outside.
The young woman peered out the window and said, ‘That’ll be the other tutor arriving now. Oh, by the way, you’ll have Mr Hathaway down for a room, but unfortunately he couldn’t make it after all. He made sure we got a very good replacement for European influences in the Pacific, though. It won’t make any difference to you, anyway, will it?’
‘None at all,’ Fler assured her, as the bell at the reception desk rang. ‘If you have everything you need...?’
‘I’m fine.’ The young woman put a bag on the bed and looked about. ‘I’m dying to use the loo, though. Will you tell him, please, that we’re all going to meet in the lounge in half an hour?’
‘Yes, I will. There’s a coffee machine there. I’ll make sure it’s refilled before then.’
‘That would be lovely. Thanks.’
The bell pealed again. Along the hall, Rae was still talking to one of the tutors who was asking where the nearest pub was.
Fler made for the stairs, and turned at the bottom to cross to the desk at one side of the entrance hall.
The man who had been lounging against the counter, idly studying one of the guest house’s address cards that he’d picked up from there, turned to face her as she approached. For a moment his expression was blank, then his hazel eyes suddenly darkened with shock and he straightened abruptly. ‘I don’t believe it!’ he said in stunned tones. ‘What in hell are you doing here?’
CHAPTER FOUR
FLER blinked. She felt pretty much the same way, herself. ‘I’m the proprietor,’ she said. ‘If you’re looking for Tansy, Mr Ranburn, she isn’t here.’ It gave her some satisfaction to be able to tell him that. Tansy might have been pleased to think of him coming after her, but Fler was convinced this man was nothing but bad news for her daughter.
‘Tansy?’ he said blankly, as though he’d forgotten who that was, and Fler immediately wanted to hit him. She’d like nothing more than for him to stay well away from Tansy, but he didn’t have to make it so obvious that he didn’t really give a damn.
Before she could say anything he glanced again at the card in his hand. ‘”F.H. Daniels, proprietor”,’ he read aloud. ‘I thought you were Mrs Hewson.’
‘I answer to my ex-husband’s name sometimes,’ she told him. ‘Especially in matters concerning Tansy. It saves explanations.’
He was still looking at her as though hoping she was going to disappear in a puff of smoke. The feeling was mutual, she wanted to assure him. Instead she said crisply, with only the forlornest hope that it wasn’t true, ‘If you’re not here to see Tansy, I presume you’re one of the tutors for the summer school. The others arrived ten minutes ago.’
‘Well, good,’ he said absently, looking as though he was trying to think of an excuse to leave. She wished he would.
‘Do you need any help with bags?’ she asked him.
‘Ah...no. No, I’ll manage. Thank you,’ he added, belatedly. ‘Tansy—’
‘She’s in the South Island,’ she told him. ‘Until the end of February. If you’re ready, I’ll take you to your room. You can sign the book later.’
She didn’t want to discuss Tansy with him. Didn’t want to discuss anything with him. Didn’t know how she was going to bear being in the same house with the man for the next three weeks. But she could hardly throw