Excerpt

Time for an excerpt. Here's one from my newest book, The Heart of Matthew McLeod.

 

THE MEETING OF the Frazier Bay Restoration Society took place in the church hall on Frazier Bay Road and had been in progress for well over one hour.

Anna Cameron sat on a wooden seat alongside her friend Tessa McLeod, surrounded by several dozen people, most of whom she didn’t know.

She focused her attention on the man standing at the lectern in front of them: the arm-waving and white-bearded Jonas Piper, proclaiming his suggestions on how to encourage more people to visit their quiet part of the South Island. His ideas were more suited to big cities rather than an out-of-the-way small town with a dwindling and ageing population but his enthusiasm was infectious.

Tessa pushed a folded-up square of paper into Anna’s hand and whispered, “Read it.”

It was like being in high school, Anna mused, except Anna had never been one to pass or receive notes. She unfolded the paper and read, Gabe’s here with his cousin. He’s looking at you.

Anna handed the note back and murmured, “What has your husband looking at me got to do with anything?”

Tessa rolled her eyes and began to write another note.

“We’re not in school, you could actually tell me,” Anna whispered. Tessa wouldn’t have been the type to write notes either. Like her, she’d have taken studying seriously. A-grade seriously.

“You girls?” Shona McHardy leant forward from the seat behind and demanded in a low voice, “Are you both paying attention to Jonas? His ideas are the sort of thing you young ones should be thinking about for Frazier Bay.”

“We’re not young ones,” Tessa muttered out the side of her mouth. “We are mature, educated, professional women.”

“Then what are you passing notes for? I may be eighty-three on my next birthday but I’m not blind, you know.”

She settled back as Jeb Fisher shooshed them, and Tessa passed Anna the new note.

“No time,” Anna said as Mayor Bob Warrington stood up from his seat. “I’m next.”

Bob made his way to the lectern, with considerable slowness due to his gout and dodgy knee.

“Thank you, Jonas,” he said wryly. “I’m sure we appreciate your hearty suggestions. We’ll take them to the committee and see which ones we can take on board.” He added, “If any.”

Bemused chuckles broke out, Jonas gave a grin as he took his seat, and Bob gestured for Anna to make her way to the front.

“Now it’s time,” he introduced, “for our last speaker of the evening. I think you all know Anna by now. She works in the library over at Kingston Falls and today she’s offered to tell us a bit about this mystery photo album that turned up. Let’s welcome Anna.”

There was a smattering of claps and an over-the-top whistle from Tessa as Anna made her way up to the stage where the laptop was set up. She plugged in her USB, brought up the PowerPoint, adjusted the data projector, and gave her notes a quick glance. They were bullet-pointed but she wouldn’t need them. She had lived and breathed the photo album for the past month and now she hoped someone here might be able to tell her something, tell her anything about it.

Tessa gave her an encouraging grin, Nessie Sweetman held both thumbs up, Anna checked the opening slide on the screen behind her, and she began.

“Thank you, everyone, for the opportunity to speak about the photo album which is, as Bob mentioned, a mystery. We have no idea who it belonged to or who the people in the photographs are, but I hope that some of you here might be able to shed some light and maybe even recognise something familiar in the photos.” She moved to a slide of the album cover itself.

“The album was handed into the library last month. It was found in a farmhouse quite a way out west of Frazier Bay. The couple renovating the house—”

“I have a question,” Nessie interrupted as she rose to her feet. “What are the ages of this couple? Are they young people with children who might like to get involved with life here in the Bay?”

Anna pictured the Kennards. “In-between,” she said. “In their early fifties, I’d say. They moved from Dunedin when their children left home, to try their hand on a lifestyle block.”

Nessie harrumphed, sat back down and folded her arms.

Anna flicked to the next slide. “Their house is an early 1900s farm house and it was when they remodeled the kitchen they discovered the album behind a fake wall. It looked as if the wall had been created to make a small storage area but at some time had been plastered over and painted with no sign of the existing door. There was furniture and there were stacks of books, including this one photo album.”

She set the slide show to move through the images. “We can date these to the 1930s and 40s from the hair styles and fashion but also because in one photograph there is a copy of the Frazier Bay Bulletin and we made out the date. January 1943. The people appear to be from the same family and were photographed over a decade or so.” She paused at a slide showing two photographs. “On the left the girl looks to be around three-years-old, and on the right, she’s maybe around twelve.”

“What a cheeky girl,” Nessie announced. “She reminds me of myself when I was that age.”

Jonas snorted in disbelief, and Anna looked away from the image. There was so much in the girl’s face and in her happy expression that reminded Anna of Sophia—

She focused on the faces in front of her. “There is nothing to identify the family in the album, no names or dates, and nothing written on the back of the photos or on the pages.”

She moved through a few more slides. “There are no landmarks that can identify where the photos were taken and there is nothing to acknowledge who the photographer was.”

“Somebody in the family?” Bob called out.

“That’s possible,” Anna said, “but these are professional photographs for their time. Everything about them screams they were taken by someone who knew what they were doing. I’ve been in touch with a few photographic experts and interestingly, there was one name that cropped up.”

She flicked to a different series of photos. “These images are the work of a New Zealand photographer called Blaine St James. He’s not well-known but in the last few years a collection of his work was discovered and museums are piecing together private donations to come up with a picture of the man.”

There was a perceptible shift in the crowd and Anna went on, “He worked in the North Island around the late 1930s but he doesn’t appear to have worked this far south at all.”

Nessie said, “Maybe he lived around these parts even if he didn’t do any paid work down here?”

“He could have,” Anna agreed, “but the problem is that he seems to have stopped photography after the war, and there are no official records of a Blaine St James living in New Zealand. We’re led to assume the name was a pseudonym for his photography work and not his real identity. He’s a mystery. Just as,” she said, stopping the slideshow on a group shot of the ten children, “this family is a mystery, too.”

“Then how did the album end up in a house around here?” Jeb Fisher piped up.

Anna shrugged. “Hard to say. I traced the history of the house back to three previous owners, thinking they could be this family, but that was a dead end. I’ve shown it to the historical society up in Kingston Falls but no one there could help. I do have some radio interviews coming up, and we’re digitising more images to go up on the library website. I’m hoping someone will be able to identify who they are.” She glanced back at the photo of the family and said, “If Blaine St James is the photographer, this could be his family. However, if any of these children are still alive, they would be well into their nineties.”

“Nothing wrong with being in our nineties,” Jeb called out again.

“Easy for you to say,” Jonas Piper protested to hoots of laughter.

Anna smiled, pleased the presentation had provoked their interest. “If any of this jogs a memory, do let me know.” She set the slide show to continue and said, “And thank you all, for your time.”

Applause broke out, Anna let out a relieved breath and she gathered her papers. The note Tessa had given her was there but she glanced up as Bob approached the table.

He gave her an appreciative wink before he addressed the crowd. “I’m opening the floor up for discussion on any other points. We need to talk about the fair on Sunday which as you all know is to raise funds for the society, and Nessie specifically wants to speak to the cake stall.” He reached for his mayoral mallet and banged it on the table. “Be warned. Stick to your time and watch your language.”

“That’s abuse of power, Mayor,” Nessie called out, and Anna unfolded the paper and read the note.

Gabe’s not looking. It’s his cousin Matthew. Seems interested!

Anna looked up curiously and scanned the small crowd. It took a moment to sight Gabe in the back row, his head turned as he chatted to a partially-obscured man next to him. Even obscured, he looked unfamiliar, and didn’t resemble anyone she’d met around here.

The person in front shifted, Gabe’s cousin came into full view, and then his gaze clashed with Anna’s.

Anna let out a low breath as the chatter around her seemed to vanish into white noise. She recognised him. 

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