Call of the Kiwi (13 page)

Ben sighed with relief. But what was he to do now with the girl? He couldn’t take her over to join the raucous boys whose eight he had just led to victory. One of them would probably steal her from him. Fortunately Lilian steered them straight to the copse of trees as soon as they were out of sight of the teachers.

“Let’s go this way. It’s shady over here. Such a warm day, don’t you think?”

This last remark was not entirely true, but Ben nodded energetically. As they took a path that led through the woods, both of them felt freer than they had in a long time. He felt remarkably good with this lovely, smiling, chatty girl beside him. In her jingling, bright voice, she told him about Oaks Garden and how she, too, had been one of the youngest students when she first came.

“I was sent to boarding school with my cousin Gloria. Her parents insisted on sending her, but she’s shy, and we come from very far away. I was sent with her so that she did not feel so alone. But she does anyway. Some people always feel alone.”

Ben nodded with understanding. Lilian seemed to sense instinctively how he felt. Alone. He had had little in common with his classmates, even less with the much older boys in college. Ben was lucky that the work was easy for him and that he enjoyed it. Geology did not fascinate him like it did his father, nor did he favor economics like his mother. Ben saw himself more as a poet. As he found himself saying that aloud to someone for the first time, Lilian listened, rapt.

“Do you know any of your poems by heart? Please recite one!”

Ben reddened. “I don’t know. I’ve never. No, I can’t manage it. The words would get away from me.”

Lilian frowned. “Oh, nonsense. If you really want to be a poet, you’ll have to give readings someday. Come now.”

The blood shot more intensely to Ben’s face as he recited, turning his head from Lilian.

If you were a rose, I would swim to you through the dew.

If you were a leaf in a storm, with the wind I’d sing to you,

And I would know what you might be or who

Thinking songs for you until in dreams you might kiss me too.

“Oh, how lovely,” Lilian sighed. “So deeply felt.”

The boy looked at her sheepishly but did not detect any ridicule in her dreamy face.

“It even rhymes properly.”

Ben nodded, his eyes shining.

“How old are you anyway?”

Ben reddened again. “Almost fifteen.”

“Me too! That’s a sign.”

“That
is
a sign. Miss, I mean, Lilian, do you want to see me again?”

Lilian lowered her eyes demurely. “We could only meet in secret,” she said tentatively. “You might be able to leave the college, but
I . . .
”

“Is there no way?” Ben asked. “I mean, I could come on Saturday, you know, and say I was your cousin or something.”

Lilian laughed. “No one would believe that.” She considered whether she should tell Ben about her New Zealand heritage, but refrained for the moment. She did not want to talk with the boy about coal and gold mines, whaling, and sheep husbandry.

“But I know a way, don’t worry. If you walk a quarter mile south from the school gate along the fence, you’ll come to a huge oak. Its branches reach over the fence, and it’s easy to climb over. Wait for me there. You can help me climb over.” To which she added coquettishly, “But you aren’t to look up my skirt.”

Ben reddened again, but was now unequivocally enthralled. “I’ll come,” he said breathlessly. “But it will be awhile. I have to go to London first. As a reserve oarsman I’ll no doubt be assigned to a boat.”

“I can wait,” she said seriously—deep down finding it romantic. “But I fear we must return to the others. Hazel will be wondering what happened to me, and jealous as she is, she’ll point out to Miss Beaver if I’m gone too long.” She began to turn around, but Ben stopped her.

“Wait a moment. I know it’s not proper, but I have to look into your eyes just now. I’ve been trying all afternoon, but I didn’t want to stare. And so I couldn’t tell exactly. Are they green or brown?”

Ben awkwardly laid his hands on Lilian’s shoulders and drew her closer to him. He would never have admitted to her that he usually wore glasses.

Lily smiled and pushed back her wide hat. “Sometimes they’re green, sometimes brown, sprinkled a bit like cave pearl. When I’m happy they’re green; when I’m sad, brown.”

“And when you’re in love?” Ben asked.

He was not to find out that afternoon, as Lilian closed her eyes when he kissed her.

3

I
t can’t go on like this, Charlotte. Even Rongo Rongo thinks you should see a doctor in Christchurch.”

Jack had long hesitated to speak to Charlotte about her headaches, but when he came home after a long day and found her once again racked with pain in a darkened room, he felt he had to say something. She had tied a wool shawl around her head, and her face looked pale, haggard, and contorted with pain.

“It’s just a migraine, dearest,” she said, trying to diminish it. “You know I’ve always gotten them.”

“But this is the third time this month. That’s far too many.”

“It’s the weather, my love, but I can get up and come down to dinner. It’s just, I get dizzy so easily.” Charlotte attempted to sit up.

“Don’t get up, for heaven’s sake!” Jack kissed her and pushed her gently back on her pillows. “I’ll bring you dinner in bed. But do me a favor and don’t blame it on the weather. We’ll visit your parents, have a few nice days to ourselves, and go see a specialist who knows more about headaches than our village doctor. OK?”

Charlotte nodded. She just wanted to be left alone. She loved Jack, and his presence comforted her and eased her pain. But every conversation was a struggle. She felt sick at the thought of food, but she would pull herself together and manage a few bites. Jack ought not to worry. It was enough that she worried herself.

Lilian yearned after Ben but realized the day after the boat race that they had not set a specific date for their rendezvous. She had no idea when Ben would be waiting for her at the garden fence—or whether he had completely forgotten her. When the summer began without any sign of him, Lilian assumed the latter. But then her friend Meredith Rodhurst went home for the weekend and she saw her brother Julius, the Cambridge student Lily had met briefly at the boat race. When she came back to Oaks Garden, she was almost bursting with excitement.

“Lily, do you still think of the boy you invited to the picnic? Ben?”

Lilian’s heart beat faster, but before she said anything, she pulled Meredith into the furthest corner of the corridor leading to the classrooms. This conversation was not for everyone.

“Of course I still think of Ben. Ever since destiny parted us, there hasn’t been a minute in which I have not dreamed of him.”

Meredith snorted with laughter.
“ ‘
Ever since destiny parted us!’ You’re crazy.”

“I’m in love,” Lilian declared grandly.

“He is too,” she declared. “My brother says he’s always coming here and slinking around our garden like a lovestruck tomcat. But that won’t do any good, of course. He needs more than luck.”

Lilian’s brain worked feverishly. “Couldn’t we write each other? Your brother knows his last name, an
d . . .
”

Meredith beamed at her. “You don’t need to write him. I told Julius you’d meet Ben at the ‘escape oak’ on Friday at five.”

Lilian leaped into her friend’s arms.

“Oh, Meredith, I’ll never forget this. What should I wear? I have so much to do.”

Lilian floated away. She would spend the rest of the week making her plans. And counting the hours.

The question of which of her friends to let in on her big secret occupied Lilian for two full days. The chances of getting caught increased with each confidante. In the end, she only told Hazel and Gloria. Although the latter did not seem to care, Hazel trembled with excitement and helped with the careful selection of clothing and accessories. By Friday at four they had ruled out five different outfits, and the sixth dress, the one Lilian had finally thought suitable, proved to have a spot on it. Lilian was close to tears.

“But you can just brush it out,” Hazel said. “Let me do it. Have you thought about what you’re going to tell Miss Beaver? She’ll be furious if you skip choir.”

“I’ll tell her I had a headache. Or, better yet, you tell her I’ve been having migraines lately. It runs in the family.”

“Really?” Hazel asked.

Lilian shrugged. “Not that I know of. Although Uncle Jack’s wife gets them, so it’s not a total lie. In any case, choir is the best time to sneak out. Everyone’s busy, even Mary Jane.”

Mary Jane was Lilian and Hazel’s sworn enemy. The girls could be sure that she would reveal any secret plans to the teacher. At ten minutes past four, just after Lilian had finished putting on her dress, there was a knock on the door. Lilian had a bad feeling when she saw that it was Alison, Mary Jane’s best friend.

“You’re to go to Miss Arrowstone, Lily,” Alison reported. “Immediately.”

Lilian spun around. “You didn’t say anything, did you, Hazel? And Glori
a . . .
” Lilian could not imagine Gloria betraying her. But Miss Arrowstone had to know something.

“No one told me anything. I just happened to be walking down the hall, and Miss Arrowstone saw me and charged me with fetching you. Maybe you have a visitor.”

Lilian blushed. A visitor? Ben? Had he not been able to restrain himself and was now trying to pass himself off as her cousin? Or had someone seen him at the fence and figured out why he was there? She would not put it past Mary Jane.

“And if you don’t get going, there will be trouble,” Alison remarked. “Why are you so dressed up anyway?”

Lilian hesitated. Should she change or not? If her meeting with Miss Arrowstone was brief, she would still be able to make the rendezvous. On the other hand, Miss Arrowstone would suspect something if she showed up in her Sunday best.

“Well, get going,” Alison prodded her.

Lilian made her decision. If there was any chance of seeing Ben, she would have to accept a bit of trouble from Miss Arrowstone.

Miss Arrowstone was not alone in her office. Nor was she in a particularly good mood. She was conversing with an older man.

He turned around when Lilian entered.

“Lily! My lands, how pretty you are! As lovely as your mother at that age. You look much more grown up than in your photos.”

“Which might be because our pupils wear their school uniforms to their photograph appointments,” Miss Arrowstone remarked drily. “What gives us the dubious pleasure of seeing you dressed up as if for a ball?”

Lilian ignored her.

“Uncle George!” she exclaimed and flew into the arms of George Greenwood. The primary shareholder in the Lambert Mine had been a frequent guest of her parents in Greymouth, and Lilian’s mother had been calling him uncle ever since
she
was a child. For Lilian and her brothers he was likewise almost family.

“How nice of you to come,” Lilian said warmly. She even had some charm left over for Miss Arrowstone. “Alison told me I had a special visitor, so I changed quickly,” she explained.

Miss Arrowstone snorted, disbelieving.

“In any event, you look enchanting, child,” George declared. “But have a seat first before we get to the reason for my visit, which unfortunately is not a happy one.”

Lilian turned pale. She did not know if she was permitted to sit in Miss Arrowstone’s office. But if so, it was because exceptionally bad news awaited her.

“Is something wrong with Mummy, with Daddy?”

George shook his head. “They’re well. Forgive me, Lily, if I scared you. Your brothers are also well. It’s just that I’m concerned. I think that I’m not making myself very clear just now.”

He smiled apologetically.

“But what is it then?” Lilian asked, still standing, and shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

“You may sit,” Miss Arrowstone said graciously.

Lilian sat down on the edge of a visitor’s chair.

“Maybe you’ll be pleased about what I’m here to tell you,” he remarked. “Though your parents told me that you’re very happy here. That speaks well for your motivation and this school.” Another nod, this time in the direction of Miss Arrowstone. “But nevertheless, I’ve been charged with taking you home on the next ship.”

“What? Home? To Greymouth? Now? But why? I, I mean, I just have one year left.” But she was thinking only of Ben. The room seemed to spin.

“Haven’t you heard of the assassination in Sarajevo, Lilian?” her uncle asked. He looked at Miss Arrowstone, this time punitively, when Lilian shook her head.

“On the twenty-eighth of June. The heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne was murdered.”

Lilian shrugged. “I’m very sorry for Austria-Hungary,” she said politely, but completely disinterested. “And naturally for the family of his imperial highness.”

“His wife was also shot. Well-informed circles in Europe are afraid it will lead to an outbreak of war. The government of Austria-Hungary has already made an ultimatum to Serbia to put the assassin on trial. If that doesn’t happen, they’ll declare war on Serbia.”

“And?” Lilian asked. She only had a vague idea of where Serbia and Austria were on the map, but as far as she knew, both countries were far from Cambridge.

“Several alliances will come into play then, Lilian,” George informed her. “I can’t explain the details here, but war’s been smoldering in several parts of the world. Once the fuse is lit, Europe will go up in flames, perhaps the whole world. It’s unlikely there will be fighting in Australia and New Zealand, but your parents and I don’t think England will be safe, and certainly not the sea. That’s why we want you home before anything happens. Maybe it’s overly cautious, as your teacher here believes”—George indicated Miss Arrowstone with his chin—“but we don’t want to take any chances.”

“But I want to stay here!” Lilian screamed. “My friends are here an
d . . .
” She blushed.

George Greenwood smiled conspiratorially. “And perhaps a boyfriend? Perhaps all the more reason to hurry you home?”

Lilian said nothing.

“Well, it doesn’t really matter how you feel about it,” Miss Arrowstone remarked with drawn lips. “Just as this gentleman and your parents seem rather indifferent to my opinion on your completing your education in New Zealand. If I have understood Mr. Greenwood correctly, a ship is leaving London on July twenty-eighth for Lyttelton. A ticket has been booked for you. You’ll be traveling to London with Mr. Greenwood tonight. You may skip choir. Your friends can help you pack.”

Lilian wanted to throw a fit, but saw that there would be no sense in it. Then something struck her hard.

“What about Gloria?”

“So the war has begun?” Elizabeth Greenwood asked, balancing her teacup delicately between two fingers.