dirt.’
‘Well my dear, no point in beating about the bush. When you’re beautiful and rich, rising out of a cloud of dust up into the clean air on nob hill ain’t too difficult. All it takes is a few manners and customs learned and a voice that don’t sound like a cockatoo. But I must be frank my dear, at twenty-five you’re well past the marrying age even though you’re a beautiful and desirable woman.’
‘But a half-caste, eh?’ Hinetitama interjects.
‘Yes, no point in denying that. So, if we’re going to find you an ‘usband of the right breedin’ stock, with the right pedigree, it’s going to take a fair bit of money and manners. I’ve got the money but you have to learn the manners. Though, Gawd knows, I’ve searched the length and breadth of this accursed island and what’s available and respectable we’ve already had to tea and you’ve rejected the bleedin’ lot. The whole bunch o’ would-bes if they could-bes! Whatever am I to do with you? Maybe the mainland, what say you?’
‘But, Grandmother, if you should find me one, what if I don’t love him?’
‘Love? Tush! T’ain’t necessary. Love’s for shopgirls,’ Mary says dismissively. Then she becomes aware of the distress in Hinetitama’s eyes. ‘What do you know about love, eh? You ain’t gunna miss what you ain’t never had, my dear.’
‘But I have! I have loved,’ Hinetitama protests.
Mary sniffs dismissively. ‘That’s news to me. Hawk didn’t say nothin’ about you being in love.’
Hinetitama looks defiantly at Mary. ‘Hawk don’t know every thing about me!’
‘Doesn’t know,’ Mary corrects. ‘Who’ve you loved then?’
‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter!’ Hinetitama sulks.
‘Yes, it bleedin’ does! Tell me, my girl.’
‘Why? You wouldn’t like him?’
‘Like him? What’s my liking got to do with it?’ Mary sighs. ‘I’m an old woman wot’s filthy rich, Hawk won’t marry and you’re twenty-five years old and ain’t got a man yet, let alone children!’
Hinetitama looks confused and hurt. ‘I don’t understand?’
Mary shows her impatience and decides in her frustration to come clean. ‘Who’s it all gunna go to, eh? Who is gunna carry on with it, with everything I’ve worked for, built? I daresay Hawk can go on another few years, but what then, leave it to the bleedin’ Salvation Army? You, my dear, have no idea of business and don’t show the slightest interest in bookkeeping.’ She looks beseechingly at Hinetitama. ‘I simply must have great-grandchildren prepared and ready to take over when Hawk dies.’
‘But that will be another twenty, maybe thirty years! You’ll be long dead, Grandmother?’
‘Not too long, I hope,’ Mary sniffs, then she lifts her hands towards her granddaughter showing her crooked fingers. ‘But what I did with these, with me own hands, won’t be dead! The Potato Factory, me beloved brewery, must carry on. I don’t care much about the other things, they’s nice, but the brewery, that’s different, that must continue!’ She takes a deep breath and gives a resigned smile. ‘Now tell me, my precious, who is this man you say you love?’
Hinetitama looks shyly up at Mary and says softly, ‘He’s a Dutchman, from Holland.’
‘A Dutchman, eh? Me old man was a Dutchman,’ Mary exclaims. ‘A tally clerk down at the East India docks.’ She thinks of her poor drunken father and how she loved him despite his constant betrayal and state of inebriation.
‘He isn’t what you’d call a true merino, he isn’t the right breeding stock and he hasn’t got no…’ Hinetitama corrects herself, ‘…any pedigree. He ain’t… isn’t what you’re looking for, Grandmother.’
Mary ignores her protest. ‘Tush, go back a generation or two and we’re all scum on this island, even the free settlers come from a pretty dodgy lot, scratch one o’ them and you’d be surprised what you find underneath. How old is this Dutchman of
‘Well my dear, no point in beating about the bush. When you’re beautiful and rich, rising out of a cloud of dust up into the clean air on nob hill ain’t too difficult. All it takes is a few manners and customs learned and a voice that don’t sound like a cockatoo. But I must be frank my dear, at twenty-five you’re well past the marrying age even though you’re a beautiful and desirable woman.’
‘But a half-caste, eh?’ Hinetitama interjects.
‘Yes, no point in denying that. So, if we’re going to find you an ‘usband of the right breedin’ stock, with the right pedigree, it’s going to take a fair bit of money and manners. I’ve got the money but you have to learn the manners. Though, Gawd knows, I’ve searched the length and breadth of this accursed island and what’s available and respectable we’ve already had to tea and you’ve rejected the bleedin’ lot. The whole bunch o’ would-bes if they could-bes! Whatever am I to do with you? Maybe the mainland, what say you?’
‘But, Grandmother, if you should find me one, what if I don’t love him?’
‘Love? Tush! T’ain’t necessary. Love’s for shopgirls,’ Mary says dismissively. Then she becomes aware of the distress in Hinetitama’s eyes. ‘What do you know about love, eh? You ain’t gunna miss what you ain’t never had, my dear.’
‘But I have! I have loved,’ Hinetitama protests.
Mary sniffs dismissively. ‘That’s news to me. Hawk didn’t say nothin’ about you being in love.’
Hinetitama looks defiantly at Mary. ‘Hawk don’t know every thing about me!’
‘Doesn’t know,’ Mary corrects. ‘Who’ve you loved then?’
‘Never mind, it doesn’t matter!’ Hinetitama sulks.
‘Yes, it bleedin’ does! Tell me, my girl.’
‘Why? You wouldn’t like him?’
‘Like him? What’s my liking got to do with it?’ Mary sighs. ‘I’m an old woman wot’s filthy rich, Hawk won’t marry and you’re twenty-five years old and ain’t got a man yet, let alone children!’
Hinetitama looks confused and hurt. ‘I don’t understand?’
Mary shows her impatience and decides in her frustration to come clean. ‘Who’s it all gunna go to, eh? Who is gunna carry on with it, with everything I’ve worked for, built? I daresay Hawk can go on another few years, but what then, leave it to the bleedin’ Salvation Army? You, my dear, have no idea of business and don’t show the slightest interest in bookkeeping.’ She looks beseechingly at Hinetitama. ‘I simply must have great-grandchildren prepared and ready to take over when Hawk dies.’
‘But that will be another twenty, maybe thirty years! You’ll be long dead, Grandmother?’
‘Not too long, I hope,’ Mary sniffs, then she lifts her hands towards her granddaughter showing her crooked fingers. ‘But what I did with these, with me own hands, won’t be dead! The Potato Factory, me beloved brewery, must carry on. I don’t care much about the other things, they’s nice, but the brewery, that’s different, that must continue!’ She takes a deep breath and gives a resigned smile. ‘Now tell me, my precious, who is this man you say you love?’
Hinetitama looks shyly up at Mary and says softly, ‘He’s a Dutchman, from Holland.’
‘A Dutchman, eh? Me old man was a Dutchman,’ Mary exclaims. ‘A tally clerk down at the East India docks.’ She thinks of her poor drunken father and how she loved him despite his constant betrayal and state of inebriation.
‘He isn’t what you’d call a true merino, he isn’t the right breeding stock and he hasn’t got no…’ Hinetitama corrects herself, ‘…any pedigree. He ain’t… isn’t what you’re looking for, Grandmother.’
Mary ignores her protest. ‘Tush, go back a generation or two and we’re all scum on this island, even the free settlers come from a pretty dodgy lot, scratch one o’ them and you’d be surprised what you find underneath. How old is this Dutchman of
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