My Brother's Keeper

Chapter 10



SATURDAY 24 NOVEMBER 2012

Ned’s bedroom door was shut, his jacket draped on the door handle. I’d booked a flight back to Wellington mid-afternoon, the plan being to catch a cab to the airport as soon as the meeting between Karen and Sunny was over. There was no reason to wake Ned to say goodbye.

At twelve thirty-five, I pushed open the big glass doors of Ja Coozy, the meeting place designated by Justin. Karen wasn’t there, which surprised me. I was five minutes late and I’d been sure Karen would be there well ahead of time. A coffee later and still no sign of her, I was worried. I fired off a text, reminding her of the address and asking where she was. The second coffee arrived and still there was no sign of her and no response to the text. So much for the pre-meeting. Sunny was due in a matter of minutes. I rang Karen’s number and it went to voicemail. I left a message.

‘Please don’t let Sunny down, Karen. If there’s a problem, ring me.’

By now, the coffee was corroding my stomach lining. Surely Karen wasn’t going to stand Sunny up. Surely. My only hope was that Sunny would be a no-show too. No sooner had I thought this than I spotted her swinging her way towards me. All show, she had adopted a striding catwalk lope. High heels, pendulum ponytail, layered skirt, tasselled shoulder bag; all movement, all real casual. As casual as any fourteen-year-old on her way to meet the mother who had tried to murder her could look. She spotted me through the window, saw I was alone and slowed her walk. By the time she pushed the big glass doors open, her shoulders had slumped. Her little mouth had clamped shut.

‘She’s not coming, is she?’ Sunny dropped into the chair opposite but kept her bag in her lap. Her skinny little thighs were mottled with cold.

‘She may be stuck in traffic or lost or something. I’ll ring her, okay?’

She didn’t answer but squinted out the window towards the sparkling harbour. The blackened volcanic crust of Rangitoto was stark against the expanse of blue sky. Even after Karen’s phone had switched to voicemail again I kept mine pressed to my ear. This time I didn’t leave a message. Sunny stared at her bony knees, most likely struggling to hold back the tears. Her square fingers, a girl’s hand, splayed against her stomach as if pressing a bruise.

‘Bitch,’ she said, quietly. No argument from me there.



‘She was really excited about meeting you, Sunny. I don’t know what’s happened. Something really … urgent, must have stopped her’

Sunny pulled at the hem of her skirt. ‘Yeah, right,’ she said. Whorls of purple emerged like invisible writing beneath the translucent white of her skin. Bad circulation. I wanted to wrap her up tight in a soft woollen blanket, feed her good nourishing food, keep her warm and safe from harm — from further harm. I wanted to do all this, and yet I couldn’t think of a single thing to say that would lessen the hurt she was feeling.

‘Can I get you a coffee?’ Then I remembered she didn’t even drink coffee.

The chair screeched on the tiled floor, setting my teeth on edge. I followed her to the door and watched her stumble in her high heels across the courtyard. Justin appeared and walked slowly towards her. Stopping only long enough to throw her shoes away, Sunny pushed past him and ran. Following in her wake, I picked up the shoes, held them out to Justin. He ripped them out of my hands, spluttered an attempt to say something then gave up.

‘I’m sorry,’ I said to his departing back.

I didn’t know if I was saying it for Karen or for me, but I was sorry. I was sorry to have raised Sunny’s expectations and then dash them in this humiliating way; sorry to have had any part in it. Fingers looped through the straps of her shoes, Justin walked slowly away in the direction Sunny had run. He was giving her time, I think. No doubt he’d find her weeping in private somewhere further along the wharf. She wouldn’t have gone far.



Only when they were both completely out of sight did I realise how angry I was. Furious, spitting, blood-pounding anger. I hoped the anger survived the flight to Wellington. I wanted to still be feeling this rage when I confronted Karen.