We approached from the right, where two big aluminum sheds flanked the track. No overgrown grass or discarded equipment here, just tidy lawns, freshly cindered track, and neatness. Beyond the sheds, the house backed up against the hillside, with a stand of tall eucalyptus behind it that would let the light in, and a row of pines marching away down the hill beyond it, so you wouldn’t know anybody else existed and the west wind couldn’t touch you. The house faced south, toward the sea, and its front garden was planted with native bush. Cabbage trees and flax plants and some agapanthus and calla lilies just coming out, and green lawn in between, mowed and edged. The track kept on around the garden, past more pines. Another windbreak, probably, because the land must extend a fair way down there. I could just see the faint line of silver that was the sea.
The house itself was the absolute opposite of the glass cube. It was a pretty white bungalow that had to date back to the Otago gold rush a hundred fifty years earlier, with a tin roof and ornamental iron fretwork like lace along the top of the wide covered porch. Three dormer windows stood in line like sentinels, breaking up the expanse of silver roof, and an old brick chimney, painted the same white, ran up one side. On the other end of the house, I could see a black iron stovepipe. Firewood was stacked neatly along one side of the porch, together with an enormous, sleek gas barbecue that was the only thing that did look like the Gray I’d met. The front door was painted dark green, the front windows were tall, and the whole thing was as cozy and welcoming as you could imagine.
“Oh,” Obedience said on a sigh. “It’s so beautiful.”
“It’s really not,” Gray said. “It’s a terrible house. You’ll see. Fortunately, you don’t have to live in it.”
Gray
Now that we were here, I was nervous.
I should be nervous that I wasn’t at work yet. Daisy was right: the decision to bring them here had been mad. I did not have time for this kind of complication.
Since I didn’t seem to be coming to my senses, though, I swung out of the ute, opened the back door, and told the dog, who’d been lying between Obedience and Fruitful like it was her appointed mission to make them comfortable, “Come on, girl. Come see your new home.”
She was grateful, anyway. She raised her head from Obedience’s lap, gave me that worshipful, soulful look from her brown eyes, got past Obedience with a mad scramble, and jumped down with her tail going in a full circle. After that, she ran to the grass, squatted for a long, luxurious wee, then ran back to me and did some more happy wagging, forcing me to give her a few thumps on the shoulder. By that time, Obedience had climbed out, too. Fruitful hadn’t, maybe because she was in her stockinged feet.
Instead of putting her shoe back on at Daisy’s apartment, she’d taken off the other one, saying, “I don’t want to wear these ever again, and I can’t walk anyway.” Daisy had chucked them into the bin, and Fruitful had looked absolutely satisfied.
Now, Daisy started hauling bags out of the back, and I said, “I’ll get those.”
“No,” she said, loading herself up with six of them—six, three in each hand, like she was a pack horse. Or like she’d always assumed it was down to her to carry anything that needed carrying. “You’ve got all the dog stuff, and you need to go to work, I’m sure. It’s nearly noon. We’re all good. Grab my suitcase, Obedience. Fruitful, we’ll come and help you in a minute. Oh—and I’ll bring dinner over for you tonight, Gray, if that would help. And let us know if we can help you in any other way. Cleaning, or anything.”
I stood back and folded my arms as she moved off. “Where are you going?” I called out.
She turned. “Oh. Behind the house?” When I kept standing there, she said in exasperation, “Then point me.”
I sighed. “Fruitful,” I told her, “I’m grabbing you.”
“OK,” she said.
I got her out of the car, hefted her into place, and told Daisy, “If you let me lead the way, you’ll actually find out where you’re staying and won’t have to wander about calling to each other, lost in the bush. And if you refrain from shoving me