Saturday, 19 January 2013

Restorations

Here's a happy thought: restoration is underway at one of Auckland's oldest homes. Hulme Court in Parnell Rise was built in 1843 - the early days of settlement here. I have such affection for this plastered piece of our history - now safe in the hands of an enlightened owner. May the spirit of the place revive as the fabric is repaired and prosperity flow to all who have a hand in the project.

Photo by John Field, auckland art gallery

Peggy Spicer "Hulme Court"

thanks to flickr.com for this recent image


Drawing From Life Chapter 15

Rhona had two further afternoon sessions with Justin at an Auckland studio, but the pace was much more relaxed than Easter weekend had been. He had a light handed, self deprecating sort of humour that brought out a mischievous streak in her- one that she had forgotten was part of her character.
At the end of their final set Justin asked her to join him at his hotel the next morning. He was leaving Auckland the next day and wanted to take the only opportunity for what he called a “debriefing session.”

When she walked in from Grey St Justin was in the hotel lobby waiting for her. He presented her with a loose posy of orange gerberas before they went through to the lounge. He talked of his plans for the winter launch in New Zealand of part of his range, and of his negotiations with an Auckland department store. He  asked her to keep in touch with Anna, who had decided to settle in Auckland.
Over coffee, Justin began a review of their work together. At one point he complimented her on a consistent level of performance despite “the unpleasantness on Easter Sunday.”
Noticing her heightened colour he laughed suddenly “Yes yes, I’m nearly done. What I am saying is that you could make a career in this field.” Apparently advertisers, along with any number of other businesses, wanted to reach the baby boomer generation. He offered to arrange introductions- if she chose to pursue it.
Rhona could only gape. She threw her hands out in a helpless gesture before she started to laugh in earnest. Justin waited patiently for some composure to return.  “That means no I take it.”
 He reached across the table to clasp her hand “You know best what is right for you. I expected it quite honestly.” In a brotherly way he continued “There is something I must say to you- confidentially.” She sobered quickly as he started to talk about Charlie, describing how long they had known each other. “I guess I’m saying keep watch. Sometimes he doesn’t realise how much is too much. Then when his guidance is rejected he gets hurt.”


Joe arrived just after five  that night.  He was already at work in Rhona’s kitchen when Gracie came home from Francie’s place. Rhona heard her whoop first and then the front door burst open- with the gear bag hitting the floor at the same moment. She bounded in. Joe turned in time to be hit by the full force of teenage enthusiasm.  
 “It’s fish again - hapuka steaks for tea” he stated, smudging her nose with his floury forefinger. “So beat it sprat they won’t take long.” She collected her pack and raced up the hall to her room. 
Joe found the wine in the fridge and passed Rhona a glass. “Take that chardonnay and sit somewhere out of the way– not too far though- seeing I’m doing all this to make a good impression.”
Rhona perched on the stool, perfectly happy to sit there and watch him cook. Joe stayed focused on his pan for a minute or two.
Abruptly he brought the spatula sharply down on the bench and turned the heat off. He spun around to lean his lower back against the bench, bracing his weight on his hands behind him. His expression made her pause mid- sentence. He was steeling himself to speak.
He reached out, moving in towards her. “You like me don’t you?”
Instinctively she asked herself: is it right to encourage him?
He stepped back a little to see her face clearly. “Well?”
She dropped her gaze. “But I’m older than you.”
Gracie chose that moment to come hurtling out of the bathroom. She called down the hall “You can serve now. I’m ready.”

Joe switched neatly back to joking and sparring with Gracie as they sat down to eat. Rhona was quieter and gladly left him to carry the meal and the conversation.
When Gracie had finished she sat rolling her glass between her hands. She remarked that Joe must get sick of driving from having two jobs- the lecturing and his architectural work. She wanted to know what he did in the weekends.
 “I take theatre sports for the borstal kids. My friend Niven Marsh comes in to help sometimes. You’d like him Gracie. He sorts out the comedians from the drama queens every time.”
He was so animated when he answered. Rhona could see he had big dreams for the project. Most of their resources were donated though, and uncertain. The whole discussion gave her  much food for thought.
Alone together after dinner, Joe draped himself comfortably over most of the sofa. Once she was settled he took one of the chocolates laid out and unwrapped it with scrupulous care “Why pick age as a stumbling block eh?”
Rhona smoothed her skirt against her knee, watching the fabric move under her hand. “Because you seem to me like a family man. You still have that in front of you- a lovely young woman, babies, I thought…”
He looked at her blankly. “You thought wrong hey. If that’s what I wanted I would have done it by now.”
She sensed he meant every word.
He swivelled her around to face him, resting one arm along the back of the sofa.  “I like a good bit of time on my own- I have to have it- to keep on an even keel see? I noticed you’re a bit the same.” That explained a good deal. He saw that in her face. “So, next issue? How about things you can’t say- like “race” for instance?” She just gave him a pitying look. They both knew she was no bigot.
 His “So?” was still demanding an answer
Rhona was biting her lip. “I have to send men away on a daily basis you realize.”
Joe heard the Yes there, smiled, and was satisfied.

He left shortly afterwards, to stay with his sister at Orakei.  Rhona thought it strange- how relieved she was. He hadn’t asked to remain with her instead. There was the smell of a mistake about- whether hers or his she couldn’t yet say.

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