Solomon's Song (10 page)

But secretly they conclude they are engaged in a simple transaction, no different to a stud bull. In return for their seed well planted, they will have no further obligations and be free to enjoy the fruits of their labour, the abundant dowry that comes with a successful coupling. Hinetitama’s half-breed status, they tell themselves, precludes any future considerations or obligations they might be expected to show her as a husband.

Nor is Mary under any illusions. She observes their greedy eyes and reads their sycophantic gestures towards her and the sloppy compliments directed at her granddaughter for what they are and she knows that the only reason the men have accepted her invitation is because of her money.

Despite Mary’s extreme wealth her granddaughter is still a half-caste and as Ikey might say, ‘Not quite kosher, my dear.’ While she hopes for a marriage based on mutual respect she knows this to be highly unlikely. Mary, though anxious that her granddaughter not marry beneath her status, is not looking for perfection. She admits to herself that the potency of the pistol the successful suitor carries between his legs is more important than his looks or even his brains, given her observation that most men seem to be more or less of equal stupidity. She has been told that the Maori blood breeds out and so, if anything, she shows a distinct preference for men of a fair complexion.

But she has not reckoned on Hinetitama’s stubbornness. Her granddaughter, while co-operating in most things, refuses to accept any of the suitors Mary introduces. No amount of cajoling or persuasion will convince her and she seems quite impervious to Mary’s temper.

‘They are all fuddy-duddies and complete ninnies and speak only of commerce, farming, hunting, horses, racing and football. Of commerce I know nothing and of the others I’ve heard enough after two minutes. They cannot sing or dance and they have no laughter in their bellies like a Maori man. I’d be ashamed to carry their baby in my stomach!’

Mary admits to herself privately that she agrees with her granddaughter, they are a poor lot, men mostly left over in the first place because of their lack of prospects or character. She thinks of taking her granddaughter to the mainland, to Sydney or Melbourne, where the pickings can be expected to be rather better, especially among the burgeoning middle classes. But first Hinetitama must have a veneer of culture applied sufficiently thickly not to arouse the suspicions of a would-be mother-in-law, that is, until it is too late and the nuptials are concluded. Whereupon the family can happily console themselves with the dowry her granddaughter brings to the marriage.

As the battle of wills rages between the two women Hawk’s respect grows for his niece, but he knows the fight is one-sided and Mary will not give up under any circumstances. Even though she is plainly enchanted with Hinetitama she will attempt to achieve her ambition for great-grandchildren at any cost.

Hawk realises that Mary is at deadly serious play with Tommo’s daughter. She watches her every lesson and makes her practise what she has learned. Although Mary is conscious of her own lack of grammar and syntax, she has always been a great reader and she is quick to correct a grammatical slip or a mispronunciation if Hinetitama should revert for a moment to her accustomed pattern of speech.

‘If you know what’s correct grammar, Grandmother, then why do you talk differently?’ Hinetitama asks her one evening after Mary has corrected her half a dozen times. It is at the time an innocent enough question but is to begin a conversation which will affect Hinetitama’s entire life.

‘Too old, my dear, can’t teach an old dog new tricks. Never had no time for all that malarky, talkin’ posh when you ain’t. Folks can take me for who I am, common as dirt, or not at all.’

‘Why then must I learn all this stuff?’ Hinetitama protests, ‘I’m common as dirt.’

‘Well my dear, no point in beating about the bush. When you’re beautiful and rich, rising out of a cloud of dust up into the clean air on nob hill ain’t too difficult. All it takes is a few manners and customs learned and a voice that don’t sound like a cockatoo. But I must be frank my dear, at twenty-five you’re well past the marrying age even though you’re a beautiful and desirable woman.’

‘But a half-caste, eh?’ Hinetitama interjects.

‘Yes, no point in denying that. So, if we’re going to find you an ‘usband of the right breedin’ stock, with the right pedigree, it’s going to take a fair bit of money and manners. I’ve got the money but you have to learn the manners. Though, Gawd knows, I’ve searched the length and breadth of this accursed island and what’s available and respectable we’ve already had to tea and you’ve rejected the bleedin’ lot. The whole bunch o’ would-bes if they could-bes! Whatever am I to do with you? Maybe the mainland, what say you?’

‘But, Grandmother, if you should find me one, what if I don’t love him?’

‘Love? Tush! T’ain’t necessary. Love’s for shopgirls,’ Mary says dismissively. Then she becomes aware of the distress in Hinetitama’s eyes. ‘What do you know about love, eh? You ain’t gunna miss what you ain’t never had, my dear.’

‘But I have! I have loved,’ Hinetitama protests.

Mary sniffs dismissively. ‘That’s news to me. Hawk didn’t say nothin’ about you being in love.’

Hinetitama looks defiantly at Mary. ‘Hawk don’t know every thing about me!’

‘Doesn’t know,’ Mary corrects. ‘Who’ve you loved then?’

‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter!’ Hinetitama sulks.

‘Yes, it bleedin’ does! Tell me, my girl.’

‘Why? You wouldn’t like him?’

‘Like him? What’s my liking got to do with it?’ Mary sighs. ‘I’m an old woman wot’s filthy rich, Hawk won’t marry and you’re twenty-five years old and ain’t got a man yet, let alone children!’

Hinetitama looks confused and hurt. ‘I don’t understand?’

Mary shows her impatience and decides in her frustration to come clean. ‘Who’s it all gunna go to, eh? Who is gunna carry on with it, with everything I’ve worked for, built? I daresay Hawk can go on another few years, but what then, leave it to the bleedin’ Salvation Army? You, my dear, have no idea of business and don’t show the slightest interest in bookkeeping.’ She looks beseechingly at Hinetitama. ‘I simply must have great-grandchildren prepared and ready to take over when Hawk dies.’

‘But that will be another twenty, maybe thirty years! You’ll be long dead, Grandmother?’

‘Not too long, I hope,’ Mary sniffs, then she lifts her hands towards her granddaughter showing her crooked fingers. ‘But what I did with these, with me own hands, won’t be dead! The Potato Factory, me beloved brewery, must carry on. I don’t care much about the other things, they’s nice, but the brewery, that’s different, that must continue!’ She takes a deep breath and gives a resigned smile. ‘Now tell me, my precious, who is this man you say you love?’

Hinetitama looks shyly up at Mary and says softly, ‘He’s a Dutchman, from Holland.’

‘A Dutchman, eh? Me old man was a Dutchman,’ Mary exclaims. ‘A tally clerk down at the East India docks.’ She thinks of her poor drunken father and how she loved him despite his constant betrayal and state of inebriation.

‘He isn’t what you’d call a true merino, he isn’t the right breeding stock and he hasn’t got no…’ Hinetitama corrects herself, ‘…any pedigree. He ain’t… isn’t what you’re looking for, Grandmother.’

Mary ignores her protest. ‘Tush, go back a generation or two and we’re all scum on this island, even the free settlers come from a pretty dodgy lot, scratch one o’ them and you’d be surprised what you find underneath. How old is this Dutchman of yours?’

‘Thirty.’

‘How tall?’

Hinetitama thinks a moment. ‘Six feet and a little bit, I think.’

‘Healthy? No coughs in his chest?’

‘Yes, he’s healthy, no coughs.’

‘You sure?’

‘I’m a nurse, I ought to know.’

‘Got all his teeth?’

Hinetitama laughs despite herself. ‘Last time I saw him, yes.’

‘When was that?’

‘When Uncle Hawk found us.’

‘He didn’t tell me about no Dutchman?’

‘That’s ’cause he kicked his arse and sent him packin’,’ Hinetitama says, her grammar reverting to type.

Mary can be seen to think for a moment, then she draws a breath and says, ‘Well, never mind, Hawk never were a good judge o’ character.’ She pauses. ‘Do you still love him?’

‘Who? Uncle Hawk? Of course!’

‘No, not him, the Dutchman.’

Hinetitama nods her head and Mary sees a sudden tear run down her cheek.

‘Does he love you?’

‘I dunno, he never said.’

‘Men never do,’ Mary sniffs. She looks wan and lowers her eyes as she thinks of Mr Emmett, the man she loved since the first day she set eyes on him when she’d been in the Female Factory. How, after all the years of knowing him, she had been too shy even to attend his funeral. ‘You spend your whole life loving them and never know what they thinks of you,’ Mary says at last

Hinetitama looks up surprised. ‘You were in love, Grandmother?’ She breaks into a smile. ‘You were! I knew it!’ she cries, clapping her hands. ‘You were, weren’t you, c’mon own up, tell the truth?’

Mary pulls her lips into a small grimace as she tries to conceal her smile. ‘Never mind that, my girl, what you don’t know can’t hurt you. Tell me, do you want to have this man’s children?’

Hinetitama is momentarily taken aback by the question and she thinks for a moment, then nods her head. ‘I suppose? I never thought about it before.’

Mary’s manner is suddenly all business. ‘Where is he to be found?’

Hinetitama shrugs. ‘Wellington, I suppose. Somewhere in New Zealand, who knows. Wellington’s where we left hum. What are you going to do, Grandmother?’

‘Why find him, of course.’

‘Find hum? Go to Wellington?’ Hinetitama says incredulously. ‘What for?’

‘Him, not hum,’ Mary now corrects. ‘To bring hum over. Why else would I bother to find hum, my dear?’ she teases smilingly.

‘Here? To Hobart?’ Hinetitama says excitedly and then, as suddenly, looks forlorn, her eyes cast downwards. ‘What if he won’t come?’

‘He’ll come,’ Mary snorts. ‘Don’t fret your little heart about that. In my experience there is seldom a man money can’t buy, and he don’t sound the sort to be too hesitant.’

‘But it’s been over a year? What if he’s forgot me or took up with someone else, he’s very handsome?’

‘Forgotten me, and taken up,’ Mary corrects without thinking. She gives a cynical little snort. ‘My dear girl, he’ll be suitably reminded then, won’t he? In my experience, wallets, in particular, are a splendid way to jog the memory, provided they are allowed to grow a little in size. If he has married someone else then it may be difficult, but if he merely enjoys different company, then a considerable thickening of his wallet will soon cause him a remarkable loss of enthusiasm for the pleasure his new partner brings him.’

‘You mean you’re going to bribe him, buy him for me? I don’t think I’d like that, Grandmother. That’s what you’ve been doing with all the others.’

‘Ah, yes, but you didn’t love the others, my precious.’

‘But what if he truly doesn’t love me!’

‘Don’t you bother your little mind about that right now. We’ll bring him over and you can decide for yourself. If he doesn’t love you there isn’t much I can do about it, is there? Besides you’re not the sort to be easily forgot, my precious little lark.’

Hinetitama looks doubtfully at her grandmother, she knows enough to suspect Mary’s devious mind is at work. ‘You promise me you won’t bribe him to say he loves me?’

‘No, no, of course I promise,’ Mary protests, thinking, if she knows anything about men, how unnecessary it is to make such a promise.

Hinetitama remembers the circumstances in which Hawk found the two of them. It is now obvious to her that he hasn’t told Mary about their drunken behaviour or the nature of her lover’s profession or their predilection for the grog bottle. She is grateful to Hawk for this, but also finds herself deeply concerned. She has managed to stay clean for more than a year and knows that if Slabbert Teekleman returns she will be lost. Hinetitama senses that Mary’s efforts to bring her lover back to her are likely to end in disaster for them both.

Hinetitama tells herself she has tried to get over her Dutchman, to forget him, but he has been constantly on her mind. Not a day passes when she doesn’t ache to be with him. Just as she knows that even though she hasn’t touched a drop of alcohol since she fought Hawk in Wellington, she still craves the gin bottle every day of her life. There is something, some evil devil, deep down in her belly, that needs it. She knows she loves her Dutchman with the same senseless and destructive passion. She admits to herself that he is, by every definition, a scoundrel, a profligate, a drunk and a gambler, but it makes no difference. She loves him, loves the excitement of being with him, and she cannot cast him from her mind. Hinetitama, her heart pounding, gives herself one last chance at her own salvation.

‘Uncle Hawk doesn’t like hum?’ she says to Mary. ‘He won’t permit it.’

‘Didn’t expect he would,’ Mary barks. ‘You leave Hawk to me, an’ all.’

But Hawk won’t hear of a plan to find the Dutchman and return him to Hinetitama. While he doesn’t know the intimate details of their love affair, he has witnessed its consequence.

‘Mama, he is a drunk and a gambler just like Tommo, only I daresay not as skilled. I found them in a hovel drunk, with her naked and filthy and him a coward who ran away and left with a curse for her on his lips. I bought him off with two sovereigns. Can’t you see what will happen if she returns to this evil man?’

Mary is obdurate. ‘Well! If that’s all you can say. Why, if she’s what you say she is, a drunk like her father, has she not touched a drop of liquor since she arrived? She’s a good girl, stubborn as a mule, that I’ll admit, but I don’t believe she’d do anything silly.’

‘Mama, there is a weakness in her. He is a drunk and will take her down with him.’

‘Nonsense! Besides, men don’t always drink from addiction, often it’s from despair at their prospects in life. As Hinetitama’s husband he shall enjoy the most excellent prospects. He seems from her description to be a strong enough fellow with good teeth and lungs, tall and fair of complexion. He is a musician also, so he may be a sensitive fellow underneath.’