Chapter 14

It has been a busy week for both Mikaere and me. I ask him on Thursday evening when he thinks he will go down to Tuakau, thinking he might ride down on Friday evening. But no, he’ll ride down on Saturday morning and back on Sunday afternoon. He does seem very comfortable living with me. He talks of the trip as mainly being to pick up more of his stuff. He knows I’ve told Aroha about his change of course plans. He asks again whether I thought she was angry about it.

“No. She thought you should have told her yourself, but didn’t seem to mind too much about the course. She’s a very wise woman, you know.”

“Yes, I know that really.”

After dinner on Friday, Mikaere wants to practice making me up again. Really I would rather do something else but to support his new profession I agree and he becomes very conversational, asking me how I’m adapting to a new country and a new job. Such questions are often asked in an empty kind of way but I feel that he is genuinely trying to put himself in my shoes. He has made a big move in his life and I think he sees a parallel with my big move. Of course, he has no idea about some of the things that are on my mind but I try to treat him as a friend and answer his questions seriously. I talk about how I hadn’t found out much about the university before I came such as how young it is. I tell him about my only previous experience of New Zealand, the interview in the Koru Lounge at Auckland International Airport. I mention escaping the Trump presidency.

Then, perhaps rashly, I mention that I had broken up with my partner Maria. It turns out this is what interests him most. He asks if I am exclusively gay. Clearly he doesn’t know the answer to that already.

“Mostly, I think,”

He then says that he thinks he is gay. I have previously informally counseled young women about their sexuality, but not young men. I try to dole out some standard advice while keeping the tone light and matter of fact. “Don’t let others define you. You can find out who you are, in your own time.” As we are on the topic of sexual preference I think I can ask if the other boy in his course is gay.

“Oh yea, as soon as you see him, no doubt at all. When the girls talk about their boyfriends he joins in talking about his.”

“Do you think you’ll be friends,” I ask tentatively.

“Yea, we could be mates.” He is happy to let the subject drop and focus on the task of transforming my appearance.

It is Saturday morning. Mikaere seems in no special hurry to get off but fires up the Lambretta soon after 11 am. I was waiting for him to get off, looking forward to having the house to myself, but then I miss him. After a bit, I settle down to some work, though I do distract myself with some emails. Also, I look online to catch up with some US news. The Trump White House has certainly been through some turbulent times. The resignation of Michael Flynn as National Security Advisor is already old news. Jeff Sessions’ decision to recuse himself from investigations into any Russian involvement in the 2016 election stays in the news, as Trump can’t let the matter go. I manage to get back to some work.

Even though it is only 5.30 pm, I think I will walk to an Indian restaurant on Saint George Street and order some take out food. Naturally, the restaurant isn’t busy and the kitchen produces my food quickly. After about three quarters of an hour, I am nearly back at home when I see a middle aged man in a dark hoodie and jeans going round the back of my house. He is carrying a small bag. I reach into my jacket pocket for my phone to call the police but I find the phone that Maria had left for me. I locate ‘Willy’ in the contacts and call the number. She answers reasonably quickly. I tell her what is happening and she says to walk straight past my house as if I don’t belong and not to return until she calls me back.

I walk for a while, conscious of the saag paneer, naan bread and pickle in my take out bag. I find a place to sit in front of a church and try to eat the food, but it becomes a bit messy. My patience has about run out when Hope Wilson phones me back and says my visitor has gone. I can return but they want to quickly check over the premises before I do so. It should take no more than half an hour. I walk around a bit more and then return. On my way back, Hope calls again and says they have located three listening devices: in the living room, the kitchen and my bedroom. They are going to leave them there for the time being.

“Carry on as normal, don’t talk to me on this phone in the house and be aware that they are very good at blackmail.”

No blackmail potential in this bedroom. Wrong brother. I’m not very happy being overheard, but there is nothing I can do. Entering the house I feel a chill. I look around to see if anything has been obviously disturbed. I don’t notice anything, but I don’t have an eye for detail, unless it’s in a piece of writing. I heat up the remains of my meal as I am still a bit hungry, but it doesn’t taste so nice reheated. I wish Mikaere were here, but really it's best that he isn’t as I don’t fancy explaining to him what is going on.

In fact, what is going on? Sammy might have been a government agent but which government? Presumably Zoltan was in some way involved with his death. I knew him from a long time ago, but apart from that it doesn’t concern me. The New Zealanders must somehow have found out my connection to Zoltan, so needed to check me out. But he made things worse for himself by having me brought to see him. That gave me something to tell, while otherwise I had little. He must have thought it was no accident that I arrived on the scene when I did. Both sides seem to think I am some kind of secret agent. Mostly, I am just an accident prone academic.