After the Fall (51 page)

The twins stomp around the polished floor, their hair sculpted into wild bed shapes, palms and noses pressed to the glass wall of the terminal as they watch the plane being refuelled. It will carry its precious cargo from Napier to Auckland, and by this afternoon they will have left New Zealand.

‘There’s Sacha’s bag,’ whimpers Charlie. He’s holding Blue Blanket to his ear. ‘That man just threw it down a hatch. Why are you going away, Sacha?’

Finn’s arm is still in a sling, but his hair is already beginning to grow. ‘You and Grandpa had both better be home in time for our birthday,’ he growls fiercely.

‘I’ll be back soon,’ says Sacha, and then she quickly turns away. There are bruised hollows beneath her eyes, and her skin has no bloom. I hold her thin frame against my chest and feel the tears burning holes in my eyelids. I can’t let her go. I can’t bear the thought of life without her.

The call comes too soon. I’m not ready. I’ll never be ready.

‘That’s us,’ mutters Dad, and feels in his pocket for boarding passes.

Panicked, Sacha and I cling together. Perhaps I can keep her with me if I hold tight enough. I feel Kit’s hand on my shoulder. ‘Martha,’ he says gently. ‘C’mon, you have to let go now.’

At last I give her up. She kneels on the floor, and her brothers clamber over her as other passengers file past. Then Kit rocks her in his arms.

‘We’re going to miss you like crazy,’ he murmurs.

A girl stands slightly apart from our group, unwilling to intrude. She has wavy hair and arched eyebrows like a pre-war Hollywood film star, and her face is geisha pale. When we hear the final call, Sacha rushes to embrace her. This isn’t the mascara-streaked hysteria of those classmates over a year ago. It’s far more profound.

‘I’ll come back,’ promises Sacha, wiping her friend’s tears. ‘I’ll come back.’

The man at the gate looks at us, then at his watch. He holds out his hand for boarding passes. We’re out of time.

Just as they’re passing through the gate, Sacha stops dead, and turns around. Dad has taken her arm but she shakes him off and runs back to me, crying helplessly. I hold her face in my hands and kiss her, one last time.

Let her go
, says my mother. There’s compassion in her voice.
If you love
her, let her go.

‘Go on,’ I whisper to Sacha. ‘It will be all right. Get well.’

I watch them hurry across the tarmac and up the metal steps. My father. My daughter. There’s a fresh wind, and it dances in Sacha’s hair. As she reaches the aircraft’s door she looks back at us and waves frantically, then ducks her head and disappears. I notice Dad say something to the young cabin attendant, see her smile. Still smiling, she reaches out and shuts the door behind him.

Kit takes my hand, and we race up to the viewing platform and wait in thin sunshine, trying to work out which little round window has Sacha behind it. We pretend we can see her face. The aircraft begins to move, taxiing away from the terminal building. At the top of the runway it slowly turns, and its engines roar.

I’m waving. We’re all waving. Bianka stands beside me, tears glinting on her cheekbones. I put my arm around her shoulders.

‘She’s not coming back,’ she says. ‘Not really.’

And that’s when my heart finally breaks.

Sacha’s plane sprints along the runway and into the air, and we wave still more desperately, with all our arms. We’re crying out to our girl. We want her to see that we love her. We’re waving as she becomes a speck over the crumpled blanket of hills. We are still waving as she disappears into skeins of light cirrus.

Hawke’s Bay Today
Local News

Yesterday marked the anniversary of the death of Napier-born Daniel Colbert,
who was murdered on the streets of Wellington ten years ago. It is a date which
his parents used to dread. Last night, however, they marked it with the launch
of the Daniel Colbert Conservation Trust. For Daniel’s father, Jean Colbert, it
was an occasion of new beginnings as some of the region’s most talented musicians,
together with local artist Kit McNamara, came together to create an
evening of entertainment and hope.

‘For the past decade I have focused too zealously on the cause of Daniel’s
death,’ Mr Colbert told supporters who attended the concert in Napier’s
Century Theatre. ‘My wife has been very patient! But now it is time to celebrate
those things which made his life unique. He did not live to see his twenty-fourth
birthday, but it is for those who loved and admired him to ensure that those
twenty-three extraordinary years are not wasted on bitterness and mourning.

‘Daniel was a devoted conservationist whose last project was the protection
of the tara-iti, or fairy tern. One of his constant worries was that of funding.
That is why Pamela and I have set up a trust in his name, to fund academic
teams whose aim is to further the understanding and protection of New
Zealand’s unique fauna.’

Mr Colbert declared the Trust’s first fundraising event a resounding success,
thanks to the generosity of local performers. He warmly thanked celebrated
Hawke’s Bay artist Kit McNamara, whose work is currently on sale in Dublin
and New York as well as Napier’s Portside Gallery. Kit donated a series of
paintings, each inspired by the landscape of Hawke’s Bay. They excited considerable
interest and were sold by auction during the course of the evening,
raising over ten thousand dollars.

A highlight of the event was an atmospheric performance of Debussy’s flute
solo
Syrinx
by nineteen-year-old British flautist Sacha Norris. The young
musician’s technical fluency and mature interpretation held her audience
spellbound. Sacha is the stepdaughter of Kit McNamara, and has spent the
past fortnight in Hawke’s Bay visiting her family. It is likely to be her last such
visit for some time: next week she will return to her home in the UK where she
has gained a place to study medicine at Birmingham University, embarking
on the long road to becoming a paediatrician.

‘I’d like to thank my family and friends for their incredible support and forgiveness,’
she told the audience. ‘I made some epic mistakes when I was younger,
and hurt the people I most love. I also hurt myself. But they stood by me.’

Referring to a year she spent living with her family in the isolated coastal
community of Torutaniwha, Sacha had this to say: ‘Torutaniwha is a paradise,
and my heart is still there with my parents and wonderful little brothers.
I miss them every day. I learned a lot about myself in that year, and I’ll never
be the same person again.’

However, asked by the master of ceremonies whether she has plans to
return permanently to New Zealand once qualified, Sacha looked doubtful.
‘There are some people who can handle living in paradise, and some who
can’t. And you know what? I can’t.’

Sacha dedicated her performance to Anita Varga, who died earlier this
year, at the age of forty-five, after a long battle with cancer.