From the Ashes Read online

  ‘I’m watching my figure anyway. So, you’re not working at the moment, Kura?’

  ‘I was,’ Kura said. ‘We were both in the kitchens at Auckland Hospital, then Wiki got the boot when she started to show and I left not long after.’

  Ana caught a quick glance between Kura and Wiki, but didn’t ask what it meant. If they wanted her to know, they’d tell her. ‘I haven’t worked at all in Auckland. I’ve been looking after Jack, but he’s in the hospital now.’

  ‘Ae, we heard he was sick,’ Wiki said. ‘That’s no good, eh?’

  ‘Where is he?’ Kura asked. ‘That Kingseat?’

  ‘No, Auckland Mental Hospital, over by Point Chevalier?’

  ‘They’re all bad, those mental places. Full of kehua. What did you put him in there for?’

  ‘He belted Peter, and I couldn’t cope with him.’

  ‘You should have said. Me and Wiki would have helped.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Is he coming home?’ Wiki asked.

  Ana sighed. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Poor old Jack,’ Kura said.

  ‘Least you’ve got your days and nights back,’ Wiki said, ever the pragmatist. ‘Remember when Henare’s Auntie Tuku went a-roro, Kura? What a nightmare.’

  ‘Ooh, it was, eh?’

  ‘So you can get a job, now, if you want one,’ Wiki said to Ana.

  ‘If I can find one, you mean,’ Ana said.

  ‘Well, I can’t find a decent job,’ Kura said. ‘There’s the factories but the pay’s nothing to write home about, unless you do the long shifts. I’d have to be away early and home late, and who’d look after my youngest ones? My big girls are all out at work now.’

  Ana said, ‘I don’t fancy working in a factory, but unfortunately I can’t do anything particularly useful. Probably not much call for mustering, sorting fleeces and fixing fences here in the middle of Auckland.’

  Wiki and Kura cackled with laughter, giving Vincent a fright. Wiki lifted him onto her shoulder. ‘I’d like a job I can do at home. Then I could look after this one at the same time.’

  Kura said, ‘Pity no one will pay us for our knitting.’

  ‘They did, though, eh? How much did we get again?’ Wiki said.

  ‘Twenty-three quid between us?’ Kura replied. ‘I can’t really see me feeding and clothing my lot on eleven and a bit pounds a week, can you?’

  ‘Wiki was telling me about that,’ Ana said.

  ‘Ae, we took some to a shop that sells crafts and clothing and the like,’ Kura said. ‘It was just baby clothes and blankets.’ She giggled. ‘Me and Wiki got a bit carried away before Vincent came. Got told off for it too. Now we can’t afford to buy the wool. We’ve been unravelling things the kids can’t fit any more.’

  ‘What else do you reckon you can knit?’ Ana asked.

  ‘Anything, I suppose,’ Wiki said. ‘All sorts of baby things. And we’ve done cardigans and jumpers for us and for the whanau, and vests and hats, and gloves and shawls. I’ve done a few women’s jackets. You did a dress once for Patricia, didn’t you?’ she said to Kura. ‘Pity we can’t knit groceries or a car.’

  Ana said, ‘Well, I can knit just about anything.’ She thought for a moment, the excitement of an idea beginning to rise within her. ‘Tell you what, can I come back one day soon, and we can talk about this some more? And I might bring Pauline’s sister, Allie, with me.’

  ‘Be lovely,’ Kura said. ‘For morning tea?’

  ‘That’d be nice,’ Wiki agreed, ‘but why would we be having a meeting about knitting?’

  Ana grinned. ‘Because I’ve thought of a way we might all be able to make some money.’

  Chapter Fifteen

  Kura and Wiki had half-guessed Ana’s idea, and Kura couldn’t resist going up to the shop on Ponsonby Road. It was a little place packed with all sorts of things produced by people hoping to make a few pounds, like tatted doilies and embroidered tablecloths and pot mitts and aprons, and pyjama bags and dolls’ clothes and people clothes and little bits of woodwork, and it was run by a big Samoan lady called Mrs Siosifa who wore bright shapeless dresses and a flower in her hair.

  ‘Morning, dear!’ Mrs Siosifa called as Kura went in.

  ‘Morning. How are you?’

  ‘Oh, pretty good. You?’

  ‘Not bad.’

  ‘That’s nothing to complain about then! Now, what can I do for you?’

  ‘You know those baby things I brought in a few weeks ago, some little knitted outfits and a few blankets?’

  ‘Ioe, they went really well. Got snapped up straight away.’

  ‘Well, would you take more?’

  ‘Crikey, yes. ’Specially in white or cream.’

  ‘Ae? Why’s that?’

  ‘Well, it was the Island ladies that bought everything. We like our babies to look pretty in church, you know, and we only wear white or cream to church. Also the ladies like to shop here ’cos everyone knows that everything’s made by brown hands.’

  Kura looked around. ‘Is it?’

  ‘Ioe. So you won’t see a white person shopping in here. They might think they’ll catch, what’s your word for them?’ Mrs Siosifa scratched her head vigorously, dislodging her flower.

  ‘Kutus?’

  ‘That’s it. Kutus from the wool or the fabric, or something worse.’

  ‘Well, that’s . . . rude.’

  Mrs Siosifa shrugged and tucked her flower back behind her ear. ‘It’s the way it is, though, eh? Those white women don’t want anything made by Maoris or Islanders touching their babies. Or them, either.’

  ‘But not all of them?’

  ‘The ones with money to spend.’

  ‘How do you know?’

  ‘Because they come in, ask who’s made all this, I tell them and they walk out again. I should lie, eh, but I can’t because I’m a church-going woman. But yes, I’ll take as many baby clothes and blankets as you can make, especially those fancy ones you did last time.’

  Mrs Siosifa reached under the counter and offered Kura a paper bag containing homemade biscuits. Kura took one and bit into it before she was out the door, but didn’t really taste it. She was too busy thinking.

  *

  ‘Right,’ Wiki said, adjusting Vincent on her breast, ‘can we start this meeting?’

  Ana had introduced Allie (calling her Mrs Allie Manaia) as Pauline’s big sister and experienced in sales, which made Allie blush, and explained that she was also in the market for work. She was welcomed immediately then had to spend several minutes fielding questions about Sonny’s general genealogy — the usual.

  ‘Wait on, I’ve forgotten the lamingtons.’ Kura jumped up and dashed into the kitchen.

  Raising her eyebrows at Allie, Ana said, ‘Lamingtons? We are spoilt.’

  When Kura returned it was with a plate of cakes loaded with cream, which she set on a tablecloth on the floor next to the fresh scones, jam, more cream, a teapot and cups and saucers.

  ‘You’ve over-whipped that cream,’ Wiki observed.

  ‘I have not. It’s just right. You always under-whip it.’ Kura handed out plates. ‘Help yourselves, girls. Sorry we haven’t got a table. Tea for everyone?’

  Ana saw that Allie, bless her, was refraining from looking too pointedly at the state of Kura’s front room. It was a horrible little house — as bad as Wiki’s — and should probably be condemned, but her cousin had done what she could with it, and there wasn’t a speck of dirt to be seen. There wasn’t much furniture, either, which was why she was sitting on a beer crate topped with a cushion. She felt awful for her relatives having to live in accommodation like this, especially when she knew that the houses they’d left in Hawke’s Bay were so much more comfortable. They weren’t flash, but they were well built and homely and everyone had their own space and enough of it. She wondered why they didn’t just pack it in and go home.

  Wiki said, ‘Bit of a dump, eh? Like mine.’

  Uncomfortable, Ana replied, ‘I’ve see
n worse.’

  ‘Bet you wouldn’t live in it,’ Kura said. ‘We wouldn’t either if we could get something better.’

  ‘Honestly, if things are so bad,’ Ana said, ‘why don’t you just go home?’

  ‘I’d like to, but it’s for the kids.’ Kura looked at Wiki. ‘Eh?’

  Wiki agreed. ‘There’s not much for them at home any more. Or for us. You know that. The kids’re better off in the city, where they can get jobs, make a bit of money and learn to get on.’

  ‘Learn to be Pakeha, you mean?’ Ana asked.

  Kura said, ‘Not really, ’cos they’re not Pakeha, they’re Maori.’

  ‘Because that’s what’ll happen to them, you know,’ Ana went on. ‘They’ll still be brown but they’ll forget what it is to be Maori. They’ll forget all about who they are.’

  ‘Well, have you?’ Wiki said. ‘You’re three-quarters Pakeha and you haven’t.’

  ‘And there’s the Maori Community Centre,’ Kura added. ‘They do things the Maori way there.’

  ‘Rubbish,’ Wiki said. ‘Rock and roll and jive isn’t the Maori way.’

  Kura said, ‘But singing and dancing is, and they have big feeds with puha and fish heads and Maori bread, and kowhaiwhai on the walls just like in a wharenui. No booze, either. Johnny goes all the time and so do my big girls. Do you go, Allie?’

  ‘No, actually, we’ve never gone.’

  ‘Suppose you don’t need to, eh? Your man already has his marae and all that.’

  ‘Have you been?’ Ana asked her cousins.

  Kura looked at Wiki and they burst out laughing. ‘Can’t see Joshua throwing me over his shoulder in the jive, can you? It’s more for the young ones.’

  Wiki said, ‘I’ve seen you doing the jive, Kura Apanui. But they do have some good steel guitar bands at the MCC. That’s more for the oldies.’

  ‘You can do a nice waltz or a quickstep to the steel guitar,’ Kura said. ‘But Joshua doesn’t dance.’

  ‘Neither does Henare.’

  And neither would David, Ana thought, so there would be no point to them going, though it sounded like fun.

  When everyone had tea and something on their plates, Wiki said, ‘Now we can’t have a meeting ’cos we’re eating.’

  ‘Well, talk with your mouth full,’ Kura suggested. ‘Has that baby finished his kai? Shall I take him so you can drink your tea?’

  Wiki tidied herself, handed Vincent — now happily nodding off — to his auntie, and bit into a scone. ‘Not bad. Could have done with a few more minutes in the oven.’

  ‘I’ll put you in the oven,’ Kura muttered.

  ‘You’ve always made a good scone,’ Ana said. ‘Jack loved them.’

  ‘David coming right?’ Kura asked.

  ‘Yes and no.’

  Wiki said, ‘What about the kids?’

  Ana sighed. ‘Well, they were frightened of him so it’s a bit of a relief having him gone, to be honest. But I think they miss the old Jack.’

  Kura raised her eyebrows. ‘And you?’

  ‘Oh, you know me.’

  ‘Soldiering on,’ Kura said. ‘You’re just like your dad, eh?’

  ‘I’m not as stubborn as he is.’

  Kura and Wiki both laughed.

  Ana sipped her tea, washing bits of coconut out of her teeth. ‘Anyway, knitting. I’ve been thinking. That shop you took your baby things to, do you think they’d be happy to sell more?’

  Kura said, ‘Ae, I’ve already asked.’

  ‘Did you sell them on commission?’

  Kura nodded. ‘But she didn’t take that much. I forget what the percentage was.’

  ‘Well, why don’t we set up a little knitting circle and see what we can make selling our things in shops like that? If there’s one shop keen to take good quality hand-knitted clothing there’ll be others. In fact, why not go for gold and try the babywear shops? Hell, why not the department stores?’

  ‘Excuse me,’ Allie said, ‘I’m sorry if I sound negative, and I don’t mean to, but doesn’t everyone knit? Why would people buy knitted things when they can just get the wool and make them at home?’

  ‘Hang on a minute.’ Wiki rummaged through a bag at her feet, then passed Allie a pale blue, long-sleeved baby gown, jacket, bonnet, mittens and booties. The pattern matched throughout and was so fine and intricate the set looked as though it were made of lace.

  ‘You knitted this?’ Allie said, holding the gown up to the light.

  Wiki nodded. ‘Size eighteen needles, single ply merino.’

  ‘God, this makes my knitting look like a potato sack.’

  ‘A potato sack can come in handy, though,’ Kura said.

  ‘And all of your knitting’s like this?’ Allie asked. ‘You know, this is as nice as anything we had at Smith and Caughey. Or Dunbar and Jones.’

  ‘Not all of it,’ Kura said. ‘Just the best stuff. It takes a while to make something like this. Two days, maybe?’

  ‘The little gown?’

  ‘No, the whole set.’

  ‘Well, we wouldn’t want to concentrate completely on garments of that quality anyway,’ Ana said, ‘though we could certainly put a good price on them. It wouldn’t be commercially viable.’

  Wiki and Kura looked at her. Wiki said, ‘Get you and your big words.’

  ‘Well, I do know a little bit about business,’ Ana said. ‘From the farm.’

  Kura said, ‘Explain?’

  ‘She means if we spend all our time making beautiful things like this,’ Allie said, ‘and charging a moderately high price, we still won’t make much money because we won’t have the time to make a lot of other items we can sell at a lower price. You have to get the balance right between quantity and quality.’

  ‘Ha, I knew you’d be useful!’ Ana said. ‘You can be our retail consultant, as well as knit our potato sacks.’

  Kura put a lamington on her plate. ‘This is all lovely, but we can’t knit anything if we can’t afford to pay for the wool. And we can’t.’

  ‘That’s the other part of my idea,’ Ana said. ‘It’s too early for raw wool from this year’s clip, or I’d suggest getting a bale sent up from home, but why don’t we buy a bale, or even just a half-bale, from a wool store up here? Wiri’s probably our best bet.’

  Allie, Wiki and Kura stared at her.

  ‘What? We can dye it all sorts of colours and spin it into any yarn we want. Can any of you spin?’

  More blank looks.

  ‘Well, I can, and I know how to dye wool as well.’

  ‘Don’t you need all sorts of special gear for that?’ Allie asked.

  Ana shook her head. ‘Just a copper, a fire, water, your dyeing agents, somewhere to hang the wool to dry and a bit of elbow grease.’

  ‘We’ve got plenty of that,’ Kura said.

  ‘Wiri’s still not that close,’ Allie said. ‘How would we get the bale here?’

  ‘On the train.’

  ‘That’s true,’ Kura said. ‘Joshua’s on the railways. He could make sure it gets off all right when it arrives.’

  ‘And we could borrow Sonny’s truck to bring it home,’ Allie said.

  ‘Can you drive it?’ Ana asked.

  ‘No, but I’ve been meaning to learn.’

  Ana laughed. ‘I can. I drove the farm truck, and the tractor.’

  ‘Where would we do all this?’ Kura asked. ‘In the washhouse?’

  ‘Best to do the dyeing outside, if we’re doing a biggish batch. It can stink a bit.’

  ‘Might as well do it here, then,’ Wiki said. ‘It always stinks in this part of town.’

  ‘But we can knit anywhere,’ Ana added. ‘You’re all more than welcome at our house, you know that.’

  ‘It sounds like a lot of work,’ Allie said. ‘Especially for you, Mrs Leonard, if you’re going to be doing all the spinning. Not that I mind working hard.’

  ‘I mind you calling me Mrs Leonard, Allie. It makes me feel old. It’s Ana, please.’

  ‘Ae,’
Kura said. ‘And I’m Kura and she’s Wiki.’

  ‘Thank you very much,’ Allie said. ‘And I wasn’t meaning to sound rude or lazy, but if we spend too much time making our garments from scratch, we won’t be able to make enough. That’s assuming we can find a successful market for them.’

  ‘You are a clever girl, aren’t you?’ Ana remarked. ‘But I have thought of that. Right now we can’t afford to buy yarn, so we’ll process our own wool, do a really good job of it and make some beautiful clothes. Are we agreed we’ll start with baby things?’ Nods all round. ‘Good, because they’re fairly quick because they’re so small.’

  ‘Blankets aren’t,’ Kura said.

  ‘But they’re not complicated, are they?’

  ‘No. I can do a pretty one in a day and a half.’

  ‘Then, when we’ve built up a bit of money, that’s when we start buying yarn ready for knitting,’ Ana said. ‘It means the money goes straight back into the business rather than our pockets, so no one will be any better off for a while, but we probably won’t be worse off, either. It’s just whether everyone can hang on long enough till we start to benefit financially. And if we do, it’ll be lovely because we’ll be running our own business. Think of that!’

  ‘I like the sound of that,’ Wiki said.

  Kura stood to hand a sleeping Vincent back to her, then changed her mind. ‘Do you want a hold?’ she asked Allie.

  ‘Ooh, yes please,’ Allie said, and settled the baby in the crook of her elbow.

  ‘What if one of us has to get a job?’ Kura asked as she sat down again. ‘It’d be nice to have our own business, but we’ve still got kids to feed and rent to pay.’

  ‘Then you take the job,’ Ana said. ‘You could still knit for the business outside of work hours.’

  Kura beamed. ‘Ae, I could, eh? Rather be right in the middle of it, though. Knitting and gossiping and drinking tea. That’s not work, that’s fun!’

  *

  James and Lucy Murdoch got out of the taxi and James paid the driver. Too late, James wondered as it drove off whether he should have asked the man to wait.

  ‘Not a very nice part of town.’ Lucy observed.

  James agreed. ‘It does look a little run down.’

  They’d stayed the past two nights with Kathleen, Jonathan and the children, telling them James was in Auckland on business. Lucy had wanted to tell them the real reason for their visit but there was obviously something going on between Kathleen and Jonathan, so they’d decided to tell them later. Kathleen hadn’t seemed happy at all and Jonathan had been hitting the booze even harder than usual. Lucy said she’d given their daughter plenty of opportunities to talk about what might be bothering her, but nothing had been forthcoming. She’d always been like that, though, Kathleen, close-mouthed about her problems. There was a new housekeeper-cum-nanny too, an older woman called Mrs Wright. James wondered where the last one had gone, the attractive young one, but hadn’t asked. Perhaps that had something to do with the frosty atmosphere in the house.