Nonetheless, by the time she crossed the Tairua River Julia was a mass of nerves. The river below her was swollen; a rolling, th
reatening, muddy brown and all around her she noticed hillside slips. In some cases she had to steer around scatterings of clay and boulders on the narrow road. What if some came down on top of the car? She crawled along, not daring to hurry in the treacherous conditions, trying to batten down her fear.
She felt almost ill with relief when she turned off the coast road to head down into the valley. Mist lay heavy on the trees and Julia’s teeth began to chatter as she neared her destination. What on earth had she allowed herself to be talked into? Hugh would eat her alive for interfering once again in his well-ordered life. He had already thrown her out of it twice! Julia moaned aloud. If she wasn’t more afraid of turning back and risking the boulders she would give up the battle here and now, without a shot being fired.
It was raining harder still as she steered gingerly down the driveway at Craemar, a distant roll of thunder accompanying her arrival; rather appropriately, she thought. Her aching legs betrayed her as she sloshed over the swampy gravel and a spasm of cramp jerked her foot on the accelerator. The car shot forward and the wheel slipped in her sweaty hands. Desperately she grabbed at it but the VW skewed madly sideways, out of control, and slipped with a dull clunk into the shallow ditch that ran along the lower side of the drive where it sloped towards the stream.
Julia could have screamed. The back wheels spun uselessly in the mud. She gave up, turning off the ignition, and stared up towards the blind windows of the house. There was smoke coming from Hugh’s chimney. His curtains were open but there was no sign of movement in the attic room. Julia looked at her watch—nearly one o’clock! It had taken her over five hours to make what was usually a three-and-a-half-hour journey. No wonder she felt like a wet rag! The mist and thunderously dark skies had forced her to use her headlights over the last few kilometres, and that had been an added strain.
Suddenly Julia saw a blurry figure in the rain coming from the garage. She wrenched open her door and squelched on to the grass, gasping as the large, cold drops of rain sliced through her thick sweater and jeans. She howled against the wind: ‘Hugh?’
The figure veered towards her, wielding a large, black umbrella against the windy onslaught. As he came closer Julia saw Hugh’s face, white and rainwashed against the collar of his dark oilskin coat; strained in disbelief.
‘Julia? What …’ There was a loud boom, and the ground shook beneath their feet. Julia screamed, and scuttled towards the only solid thing in a shifting world.
‘My God, was that thunder?’ she yelled. ‘The storm must be directly above us.’
Hugh cocked his head. ‘I don’t think …’ he broke off as a crashing, thrashing, roaring sound came to them through the sodden air, like a wild animal on the loose. He muttered sharply and started to run towards the house, dropping the umbrella and dragging Julia with him.
‘What is it? A landslide?’ she gasped, her words whipped away by the wind.
No answer. She was half-yanked, half-carried through the front door and hustled up the dim staircase.
‘What’s the noise? What’s happening?’ earned her another brisk shove in the back. ‘Now look here …’ She was propelled into the welcome warmth of Hugh’s room and ignored as he shrugged out of his oilskin and strode over to the window that looked down over the front of the house.
Panting Julia followed him, going on tip-toes to peer through the rain-distorted glass, gaping with horror at the sight that met her eyes.
A sweeping wall of slurry was smashing through the lower end of the grounds where the stream had been, snapping trees like matchsticks, bulldozing a tangled mass of fern and undergrowth before it. Behind the wall came a churning, boiling, devouring flood of water which rushed with menacing speed up the slope towards them.
Julia made a choked sound. ‘Will it reach the house?’
‘I doubt it. We’re on pretty high ground here.’ Hugh’s voice sounded rusty with disuse and Julia stared at the beloved profile, turning again with a cry as he added: ‘Unfortunately your car isn’t.’
‘Oh no!’ The brown waters swirled around the VW, nudging it slightly adrift, seething greedily around the bonnet. The roaring sound eased to mingle with the drum of the rain and Julia, who had had visions of climbing out on to the roof, was relieved to see the rise of the waters slow. ‘But where did it all come from? That stream’s only a trickle.’
Hugh swung to look at her, his eyes as grey as the skies beyond the window. In cream shirt and trousers he looked bigger than ever. There was a slight stubble on his chin, softening the hard line of his jaw and his mouth was ominously thin.
‘How do flash floods usually happen?’ What a lovely familiar ring his sarcasm had. ‘We’ve had seventeen inches of rain here in the past twenty-four hours— where do you expect it to go? There are floods all over the peninsula. The whole of Coromandel is cut off.’
‘Is it?’ Julia gulped. Thank God she hadn’t known! ‘I don’t have a radio in the Beetle.’
The skin around the grey eyes twitched. ‘Do you mean to tell me that you didn’t know? Half of Thames is flooded! There are people trapped in homes and farms waiting to be lifted out by helicopter; the whole region has been devastated! You were out there …’ he pointed, a savage jab, ‘… and you didn’t know?’
‘Why are we up here if the water won’t reach the house?’ Julia prevaricated nervously, her gaze skittering away from his intimidating hulk.
‘Because the rest of the house is cold and covered with dust sheets,’ he explained with steel-eyed patience. ‘This house has been here over a hundred years, Julia. It’s withstood floods before and I’m sure it’ll withstand this one.’
Julia shivered, hoping for a little belated sympathy.
‘Stand by the fire if you’re cold,’ she was told tersely. ‘If you get pneumonia you only have yourself to blame.’
Julia put her hands out towards the blaze, thinking that one over. ‘Look,’ she said, trying to sound reasonable, ‘so I took a little bit of a risk. There’s no need to go on about it. I’m OK aren’t I?’
‘What in the hell are you doing roaming around on the loose anyway?’
As if she was a stray dog! Julia bristled. ‘Looking for you of course!’ she snapped.
He swore. ‘You’ve come all the way from Auckland this morning?’