Aunt Dimity Down Under

“Bree went to a fine school,” Cameron offered. “She was an excellent student.”

 

 

“School was her only escape from the hell Ed created at home.” Amanda clenched her jaw. “If I’d known what was happening . . . But I never dreamed . . .” Her words trailed off.

 

“I thought she was a tramper,” said Daniel.

 

I looked up, startled. I’d been so absorbed in Amanda’s story that I hadn’t noticed Daniel’s return. He carried a wooden tray laden with four tall glasses and a glass pitcher filled with freshly made lemonade.

 

“There’s a bush walk not far from here,” he said, placing the tray on the table. “It leads to a waterfall. When Bree turned into our drive, I thought she was a tramper looking for the waterfall.”

 

“But she was a daughter, looking for her mother,” Amanda murmured.

 

Daniel sat beside his wife and put an arm around her.

 

“How did she find you? ” Cameron asked.

 

“She read an article about me in an art magazine,” Daniel replied. He looked at the yellow blossoms dangling overhead. “The article featured a photograph of me and Amanda, sitting here, beneath the kowhai.”

 

“Bree recognized me straightaway,” said Amanda. “She’s a bright girl. It didn’t take her long to track me down.”

 

“If she knew where to find you,” I said, “why did she take the job at the Copthorne?”

 

“She didn’t want me to think that she’d come here, wanting a handout,” said Amanda. “She wanted to prove to me that she wasn’t like her father.” Sunlight rippled on her dark hair as she shook her head. “As if I needed proof. . . .”

 

Daniel filled the glasses and passed them around, but no one drank.

 

“It took my wife a long time to recover from her marriage to Ed,” he said. “When I met her, she was ready to begin a new life. We married and started a family of our own.”

 

“We have two boys and a girl,” said Amanda. “They’re at school now, but they were at home when Bree turned up.”

 

“We asked her to stay, to become a part of our family,” said Daniel, “but she didn’t want to intrude.”

 

“I think she was crushed when she saw our children,” said Amanda, “especially our daughter. Bree must have felt as if I’d replaced her. I’m sure it’s why she quit her job at the Copthorne. She couldn’t stand to be near me. She felt as though I’d abandoned her all over again.” Amanda swallowed hard, but her gaze was steady when her eyes met mine. “What do her English aunts want with her?”

 

“I don’t know for certain,” I admitted. “The letter they asked me to deliver was originally meant for A. J., but I arrived too late to give it to him or to his son. Since Bree is A. J.’s granddaughter, they want me to give it to her.”

 

“There’s a bit of urgency involved,” Cameron chimed in. “Bree’s great-grandaunts are quite elderly now, and they’re seriously ill. We’re racing the clock to find Bree before they run out of time. Do you know where she went after she left the Copthorne? ”

 

“Ohakune,” Amanda answered promptly. “She told me that she had a friend there who could find her a job.”

 

“Did she tell you the friend’s name?” I asked.

 

“Angelo. He owns a café, apparently,” said Amanda. “I didn’t press her for details. At this late date, it would have been presumptuous of me to claim a mother’s right to pry into her business.”

 

Cameron turned to Daniel. “How did Bree get here? Does she have a car?”

 

Daniel nodded. “An aging Ford Laser. Half red paint, half rust.”

 

“It was A. J.’s,” Amanda put in. “Bree said it was all he could afford after Ed gambled away his savings at the track.”

 

An uncomfortable silence fell. I had no idea how to conclude such a painful conversation. I wanted to jump into Toko’s car and take off for Ohakune immediately but “Thanks a bunch, gotta run” seemed a tad insensitive. I breathed a sigh of relief when Cameron found the right words to say.

 

“Is there anything you’d like us to tell Bree when we speak with her?” he asked.

 

“Yes, please,” said Amanda. “Tell my daughter that I’ve held her in my heart from the moment she was born. Tell her no one else can fill that space. Tell her she has always been and will always be my taonga.”

 

“My treasure,” Cameron murmured to me.

 

“Tell her . . .” Amanda’s voice betrayed not a quiver of emotion, but tears filled her green eyes and spilled down her cheeks as she reached for Daniel’s hand. “Tell her that our home will always be hers.”

 

“We’ll tell her,” Cameron promised.