mother deemed it necessary to give her the information that he was unmarried and in some kind of relationship with a most unsuitable woman? It was none of her business after all. Maybe she was heading into a situation she would regret.
She couldn’t regret her impulsive decision to try a new start in a totally new part of the country, however. Maggie completed the last few kilometres of her journey towards Queenstown completely awed by the magnificent surroundings. Some of the Southern Alps’ most impressive peaks towered over the deep, glacier-gouged lakes in the area and Wakatipu, the huge and icy-cold serpent-shaped lake she was approaching now was the most famous. Reading up on her destination recently, Maggie had been intrigued to learn that the lake ‘breathed’ with a rhythmical rise and fall of its water level every five minutes. Maori legend had the lake being formed when an evil, sleeping giant had been set on fire, melting the snow and ice of the nearby mountains to fill the eighty-kilometre-long lake. That the movements were caused by variations in atmospheric pressure was an explanation of far less appeal.
Hugo lived right on the shore of the breathing lake and Maggie suspected that he would present the scientific version of the peculiar phenomenon. Not that Hugo was unimaginative or stuffy, but he had always been a fount of knowledge, and old and wise enough to be completely trustworthy. He had been more than a big brother figure. Hugo Patterson had been the only man of any significance in Maggie’s early life and she had loved him as much as his sister Felicity had.
Far enough removed in years to have seemed always adult, Hugo had been there whenever it had mattered. He’d helped with child care, homework and transport. He’d put up with the girls’ teasing, ignored the minor pranks and applied appropriate justice when needed for the major ones. In retrospect, Maggie knew he’d been fair in reprimanding her more than Felicity on most occasions and she’d accepted those judgements eventually. She knew that an undercurrent of strong affection had tempered any disapproval and the fact that she had returned his affection had made the agonies of puppy fat, pimples, braces on her teeth and that appalling hair all the harder to bear.
Yes, his affection had been returned. And more. But Maggie had never admitted to that teenage crush, even to Felicity, and it had been easy to hide once Hugo had been away at medical school. Felicity’s death had finally severed their connection and the estrangement had hurt. The ultimate judgement had been that she had been in some way to blame for the tragedy and Maggie had been devastated enough to accept it without ever having the courage to challenge more than her own interpretation.
Maybe Hugo’s invitation to stay was an indication that the past was finally behind them. That they could both find the closure that had been somehow elusive despite the passage of so much time. The notion was welcome but it was also rather nerve-racking and Maggie freely admitted to herself that she was nervous. What she wasn’t prepared to admit was that part of the nervousness had nothing to do with having to relive past traumas. Maggie was drawn to this reunion for reasons she would never try to analyse too deeply.
It could be disguised as mere curiosity. The only photo she had of Hugo was nearly fifteen years old. Had age dimmed the strong lines of his face? Faded the rich dark brown of his hair? Had he gone bald perhaps and started wearing spectacles? And what kind of man was Hugo now? Maggie’s memories had built him into a yardstick by which all other men had eventually failed to measure up. What if she’d wasted the last ten years looking for a replica of someone who didn’t actually exist?
Nervousness was not an emotion that Maggie tolerated for long. Action overcame fear and Maggie had never lacked the confidence to take action. These days she had learned to think a little more carefully about consequences, however, and she was optimistic that she had made a good choice in coming to Central Otago. That she was going to see Hugo and possibly renew an old friendship was a bonus. She was looking forward to the responsibilities and challenges in taking up the job she loved passionately in a new and exciting place.
So new that Maggie had no idea where she was going and missed the turn-off at Frankton. Taking advantage of the error, she carried on into the township of Queenstown, promising herself a cup of good coffee after making the prudent purchase of a more detailed map of the area. The lack of any discernible twilight was disconcerting, as was the darkness when she finally doubled back along the main road, but Maggie simply gave herself a mental shake. She was going to have to be able to locate obscure addresses in the area at night soon enough. At least this would be a practice run without a potentially life-threatening emergency waiting at the other end.
The hospital complex was easy enough to spot and Maggie noted the ambulance station on site. She didn’t slow down for a better look, however. Hugo had probably been expecting her to arrive well before this and she didn’t want to add to any nuisance value her visit might already have caused. Spencer Road was also easy enough to find but driving over the rough shingle road that led off to the right felt like a venture into the totally unknown.
The darkness was a blanket, the empty spaces of paddocks on either side vaguely threatening, and the silence when Maggie stepped out of the car to open a wire gate was oppressive. This was the back of beyond, and somewhere at the end of this road lay a lake that housed a sleeping giant and a dwelling that housed a man that Maggie was suddenly almost frightened of seeing again.
‘Sorry I’m late. Something smells fantastic.’
‘It smelt a lot better half an hour ago.’ Joan accepted Hugo’s brief kiss and the bottle of wine he was holding. ‘Mmm. A white Burgundy. That’ll go perfectly with the fish. Or what’s left of it.’
‘Sorry,’ Hugo repeated. ‘I got held up. There was an MVA up the Cromwell gorge.’
‘Oh.’ Joan’s murmur was understanding, now. ‘How bad was it?’
‘Nothing serious. We just had to exclude a cervical fracture by X-ray. Bit of minor suturing. We discharged them both.’
‘I heard the sirens.’ Joan lived in the tiny settlement of Frankton, between the hospital and Queenstown. ‘But that was hours ago.’
‘It took a while to tidy everything up,’ Hugo responded. ‘You know what those cases can be like. Then I had to duck home for a bit.’ Hugo sat down on a cream leather sofa with a relaxed sigh. Joan’s apartment, a small unit in a complex overlooking the holiday camp, was a space that Hugo was now quite familiar with. Not as relaxing as being at home but pleasant, nonetheless. Not that he was given much time to unwind. He had to stand up again almost immediately as Joan placed a steaming platter on the dining table.
‘We may as well eat this before it dries out any more.’
The continued reminder of being later than he had forecast was irritating. So was the ‘please explain’ expression on Joan’s face.
‘Why did you have to go home?’
‘I was expecting a visitor. I thought she might have arrived and found the house locked up.’
‘She?’
‘Maggie.’ Hugo watched as Joan served a portion of what looked like an exotic mix of steamed trout and herbs. ‘She wasn’t there so I just left the house unlocked and a note telling her to make herself at home. I said I had an important date I didn’t want to miss.’ Hopefully, sharing the inspired if somewhat inaccurate content of the note would improve Joan’s uncharacteristically reserved mood.
Joan added little bundles of carrot slivers and green beans tied up in some kind of plant material to their plates and then sat down.
‘Who’s Maggie?’
‘An old family friend. My mother asked me to put her up for
