Divergence 03

As part one and two, any relationship of characters in this story to actual people is entirely coincidental.

DIVERGENCE 03

Regenerative Love - Back Where We Belong

I was approaching forty when my life changed yet again. I had sworn off women. Curiously I felt a free man. Free of the chains of love and relationship. If there had been any real romantic love at all with Katelyn it was extractive, draining my emotional energy. In the end I was exploited. It left me with a paternal guilt but the reality was she was not my daughter she was a grown woman who chose me and her aspirations were enabled by my vulnerability.

I was never overly jealous of her extra curricular activities outside our marriage. This was probably a fundamental weakness in our relationship as reasonable jealousy is a glue that binds a marriage. It was always more about paternal concern and care. Her infidelity was never seriously paraded in my face. That would have been humiliating and insulting and would have been sure to get an angry reaction from me.

However, two failed marriages and the horrific night at Harry Mill's house and its fallout had scarred me badly. I blamed myself somewhat for Katelyn. She was a virgin when I met her and I had literally coached her to become a whore. That's how I saw it. Probably unfairly when I look back on it but that was how I felt at the time.

The vast project on the waterfront still took up my time and caused me huge stress and frustrations. With the change of government our detractors had received satisfaction when the buggers shut down the gallery and the events centre. It was controversial and resulted in large demonstrations. We had completed the foundations, which was a huge job in itself, but they were now capped with a landscaped slab. The opposition in parliament took up our cause as the costs of shutting down the project and breaking contracts were huge and the savings in the end miniscule despite the government's projected claims. We had already designed the building and the project had been tendered and commissioned so the resulting renegotiation of contracts and compensation for cancelled orders further eroded any savings. In the end we were left with the final finishing of the tower and a set of works making good the precinct that contained the projects.

Through necessity and keeping the business viable, we were able to bring in other work. We had bought out Brendon Chan but he remained the source of much of our work in Asia. We also had an office in Sydney. Our principal directors included Nick, Suki and Gaspard. We called ourselves Architects Nisugac. We just played around with the first letters of our Christian names to make an unusual and memorable name. Gaspard finally married Consuela and had sought New Zealand citizenship. Markel had married a Kiwi girl and had returned to Bilbao vowing we had not seen the last of them. We maintained parametric design as a significant tool in our larger projects but our methods had diversified.

During this period I became one of those lonely bachelor types, joining various institutions and committees to fill up my life with time consuming subcommittees. It did allow me to escape the studio and meet interesting people. It was my celibate period. I did not sink to the depths of becoming some misogynist incel but I was not interested in any romantic attachment.

As part of my committee activities I got involved in social and community development. I was no longer wedded to big iconic architecture and was dipping my toes into more socially orientated developments. The mental battering my fragile ego took during the water front project left me scarred so although the firm was still in the hunt for leading global architecture, I began to look more locally.

Along the way I was made a fellow of the New Zealand Institute and I had taken up various professional duties. As part of these I was involved with the yearly awards that were given for architects. As most of this was a marketing tool we also had a system of awarding medals for outstanding architecture.

The awards were initially arranged regionally culminating in a national award for the best of the best.

I was to be convener of the panel to undertake the national awards. For that reason, I attended the visits of all the regional submitted projects on the short list, their assessments and the award ceremony. This was to ensure consistency in the evaluations.

Because of the territory to be covered by the visits and to fit in with the busy schedules of the other practicing architects it was undertaken over weekends. This required travel by chartered plane and rental cars over the hectic two days.

I had little information about what I was visiting. There would be a limited few paragraphs outlining the architect's intent and some photographs contained in their submissions.

One project caught my eye. One photograph showed the bulk of the building form as a large female head with a veil across the face. You apparently entered the building under the veil. The extraordinary feature of this head is that it mimicked those sculptured marble heads with veils representing the Madonna I had seen in Europe. Even though the folds of the veil and the features of the face were carved it gave the illusion of the veil being diaphanous.

It was unlike any building I have ever seen. The practice producing it was one I did not know. It was called Atelier Hoahoanga. I thought the running together of the word atelier and the Māori word for architecture was strange but architects often use the word atelier to describe their studios so I thought little more of it.

The project name was Chateau Meri. It was the visitor centre for a winery. The simple explanation for the winery name was that it was named for a Māori nun that once worked among the local Maori tribe.

Our judging panel was composed of a mix of architects and a savvy media celebrity well known for her commentary on architecture.. It was a dry dusty late summer day as the panel was driven up the winding road to the visitors centre in two cars. Not a bad day for the visit, the sky was a hazy blue with some build up of high cloud over the distant ranges, the hills in the foreground were grey brown coloured by the dry grass of the late summer. Through the valley below a braided winding river, its grey blue waters sparkled slightly providing a superb backdrop to what greeted us as we rounded the bend. The huge veiled face loomed over us, commanding its dominion, the valley below and contrasting with the sky behind as it stood jutting from below a knoll.

When we drove up to it we were met in the carpark by a Maori woman and a pakeha. As we got out of the car the Maori woman emitted a high pitched chant of welcome, a karanga. We weren't prepared but fortunately one of our team, a pakeha woman was able to reply.

The pakeha guy was the winemaker. He gave a semi-formal speech of welcome in Maori and English and I, as the senior, replied. Then we all shook hands or as with the maori woman we performed a hongi, pressed noses sharing our breath. The winemaker sounded a good Kiwi bloke and explained that he was not the owner. The Māori woman introduced herself as Maia Baxter and the architect. She wore a tattoo on her chin, a Moko Kauae. I was surprised at the formality of the welcome but talking to Maia it became obvious that she was a Wahine toa, a strong Maori woman and she was forthright with her views. When I looked up at the veiled head I could plainly see as part of the illusion a moko on the chin. It gave the remarkable edifice another layer in the apparent impossible construction. The face was also plainly maori as well. Recognising the features I turned back to Maia. "You are obviously the model," I said . She seemed a little embarrassed, dipping her head before humbly confirming my impression.

It was a truly amazing piece of architecture, but I kept my thoughts to myself as we went through some double height automatic sliding doors under the veil into the visitor's tasting hall. The interior did not disappoint. The design was reminiscent of the early carpentered gothic of early New Zealand churches but unmistakably contemporary, The detail was intricate and superbly crafted.

I have to admit that with my background in parametric architecture I was distracted by the form. I was aware the building had some sustainability features but they were not fully described in the notes we were given. The notes did say the material composing the head was primarily composed of material infused with a fungus. Blocks of this were cut with a large 3D cutter and sealed and coated. I mentally thought of this as a new material and never took it seriously except as something I should follow up. There was mention of it being an example of bionic architecture but I had always regarded my tower design as being an example of that. While Maia was talking to the assessors I did hear the phrase regenerative architecture a few times. I was aware of this term but thought our own firm had environmental and sustainability issues well covered in the standards of the time so it was not a core interest.

I was not the convenor of this panel and not officially part of it. My presence with them was simply to represent the central organisation and inspect the sort list for myself in preparation for the national competition ensuring consistency with the other regions. I did not want to interfere with the judging panel deliberations nor did I want to lead their conclusions, but I did carry a clip board with the same list of criteria as they to monitor their responses against my observations.

We only had a short time to visit each project so I left the panel to ask their questions while I observed as we moved around the building and into the large underground cellars where there were numerous wooden barrels.

This building was purely the visitors centre to showcase the wine. The wine was actually made elsewhere. This building was stage one and Maia explained that it was hoped to build a restaurant and later some up market Air BnBs that would look over the vineyards on the slopes of the valley below and the large winding river terrace.

We were soon out and driving to our next venue. One of the panellists, an architect, was proving to be loud and opinionated. As we were driving, he began dissing the building we had just visited. It was obvious he was highly prejudiced for some reason and was totally out of line. As he was intent on misdirecting the other panellists I felt obliged to speak up. I pointed out the project ticked all the boxes on the objective criteria on the list. Its credentials for construction, economy, sustainability, functionality and environmental sensitivity were second to none.

It was the aesthetic he did not like. His opinion was subjective and of course open to debate. I cornered him on this reminding him that all evaluations had to be objective and stand up to scrutiny. He obviously did not regard the building as fashionable and the aesthetic was at odds to what he thought a visitors centre for wine should be. I then reminded him that the face represented the Maori Nun the vineyard was named after and it was a great iconic and memorable statement symbolizing the wine. The picture of the head also appeared on the label.

He claimed that such figurative symbolism had no place in architecture and he expressed the opinion that the use of the architecture as an advertising medium demeaned it as serious architecture. This made my blood boil. Saying I disagreed entirely. He then started muttering about an Austrian architect Adolf Loos who once said Tattoo was a crime, he did not finish the statement. I know where he was coming from. He personally liked minimalist modernism architecture, which I thought would just render this another anonymous structure.

I was probably out of line as it was not my place to give my opinion to the panel, but I confess, I exploded. "I can't believe what I am hearing, what makes you think that some ignorant naïve Austrian at the beginning of the 20th century would have anything relevant to say about New Zealand architecture in the 21st century." I challenged him saying " if you thought the mutterings of an early 20th century architect had relevance to New Zealand because you don't like symbolism then you condemn all Maori architecture. I went well beyond my brief of being neutral but it shut him up.

I sat there silently after my passionate outburst wondering why this conversation was important to me at all?

It was because I felt an inexplicable connection to this building. It was parametric architecture but it was at a level of near perfection in my eyes. In all the work I had done with the greats and with our winning competition I had never created anything of this quality and this provincial douchebag was dissing it. It was both uplifting and depressing at the same time. I wondered who had been working with the architect we had met and what software and construction method they had been using to create it. It had obviously been 3d printed but even with the relatively moderate scale of the building the finesse of the detail seemed beyond anything I had experienced locally and this myopic loud-mouthed creep could not open his eyes and see it.

For some reason this building excited my passion for Architecture again. Something that had been waning. For the rest of the visits, I sucked it up and endured the creep that infested our group and there was plenty he liked but nothing to me compared with what we had just seen. Throughout this conversation the issue of the fungal infused construction blocks or regenerative design never surfaced. I don't think anyone on the panel had the knowledge to understand the significance of it.

The building stayed in my mind and I shared my views with Nick and Gaspard but although I meant to go on line and follow up the architectural practice, Atelier Hoahoanga, my daily distractions did not allow me the time.

I was reminded when I reviewed the findings of the panel. The findings were pretty much as I had expected. I did note that my douchebag friend did try to score Chateau Meri down but it held up across the panel to the extent that it would be the paramount winner for this region.

*****

Then came the awards night. As it was a regional affair I had no role but I did attend. It was held in a grand old wooden building that had once been a seminary and had been repurposed.

The form for the evening would be wine and finger food held in a large foyer, then we would be ushered into a large room with three large monitors where reels of the winners would be shown. Following each reel the successful architects and their clients, group by group, would step up to receive their awards.

The foyer was quite crowded and I knew quite a few of those attending, either as architects or through my involvement with the industry and various organisations.

There was a moment where I was standing by myself scanning the room when my eyes settled on someone I thought I knew. Could it be Justine? It had always been a thing with me, briefly recognising someone as her on the street or in our crowd, only to be disappointed. It can't be her, I thought I was mistaken again.

However from a distance she held herself erect and with the grace that Justine always had. I had difficulty in properly comprehending it was her. She was totally out of context. She should have been in France, why here in Napier, New Zealand of all places? I had almost made myself believe that I was hallucinating when I realised she was standing next to Bernard, her father. He looked older but still with that look of energy he always exuded. On her other side was somebody I did not recognise who seemed to be socially claiming her with his hand behind her back.

I studied her, she was wearing glasses that initially put me off as she used to wear contacts in our day. She was as slim as always and her dark hair tumbled down to her shoulders.

She had not seen me staring at her until the guy she was with left her to replenish their drinks at the bar. She turned then and our eyes locked. It literally took my breath away. I felt a wave of warmth envelope me. We both broke into simultaneous grins as I moved through the crowd to her as though on autopilot. As I approached, Bernard saw me and he grinned as well. He spoke first "Ahhh, Christopher, Bonjour, mon ami it is so good to see you here. "

We kissed on both cheeks.

"Bonjour Bernard, what brings you here?"

He gestures to Justine and I turn to her, my words failing me. I had an urge to take her into my arms and I struggled to make an appropriate response.

She spoke over my wordlessness. Fixing me with her glass magnified brown eyes, the ones that had captured my heart so many years ago. "Bonjour Christopher, what a pleasant surprise to see you here, how have you been?" We kissed on both cheeks our hands finding each other's"

"I am here on an official capacity but what are you both doing in New Zealand?"

"Oh, we both live here now."

"Again I was lost for words, finally stuttering. How long? Is your husband here?"

"Sadly divorced... again. And you, did you marry your Japanese girlfriend?"

"Japanese girlfriend....? no I never..... Oh shit that was Shanghai, so long ago, a two week affair, who told you...?"

"Oh." She pursed her lips." Did I have that wrong?"

At that point I noticed the guy who had been with Justine was holding two drinks discussing something with someone. He was staring at us and when he saw me look at him, he marched resolutely through the crowd and handed a drink to Justine. He turned to me quizzically as Justine introduced him, "Sorry Christopher, this is Peter, my fiancé."

My face must have dropped along with my heart. This Peter seemed to puff up with my reaction. I was suddenly unable to hold a conversation and I made my apologies, lying that I had some official business to attend to. I then swiftly retreated.

My official business was to the loo. I stood in there struggling with nausea. I had just been kicked in the guts again. Why does this woman keep doing this to me? I splashed my face with cold water then dried it with a paper towel. Outside, the master of ceremonies was announcing the commencement of the presentation of awards. I made my way out carefully avoiding meeting Justine and Bernard. I found someone I knew at the back of the presentation hall and settled to watch the presentations.

The three big screens came to life and there was a musical intro. The first winner was announced and after the screens demonstrating the project finished a little entourage was invited forward. The music volume was lowered as they made a speech and then on to the next.

Through all this I was not concentrating. I was thinking about Justine and why she was here. Then it dawned on me, Chateau Meri, surely not. A weird feeling came over me. I remembered the connection I felt there. Was it something I recognised in the project, were there telltale details in that project that harked from the artwork that Justine and I worked for the exhibition. We tried to have the exhibition brought to New Zealand after New York but it was blocked by the French for some reason I never understood.

Yes! This project was a culmination of all that. Justine had made a thought into something that is beyond an exhibited installation into a working piece of architecture. And Justine is here in New Zealand, why is that? And what role did Maia have?

Finally, the regional supreme award was to be awarded. The crowd goes silent as Chateau Meri is announced and its architects Atelier Hoahoanga. It was as though the prize was awarded to me. I was suddenly buzzing with pride as I saw Justine move toward the podium along with Maia and Bernard. When they both held the award high after receiving it, a cry went up from a group of Maori supporters who broke into a Waiata Tautoko, a traditional song of support.

There was no sign of that guy Peter. That at least produced a feeling of relief. I felt myself grinning as the crowd broke into applause and a couple even breaking into a haka as the two left the stage. There were whistles and the odd cry of Ka pai and kia ora Maia and Justine. The guy next to me murmured "that was a popular choice," and seeing my grin asked, "Do you know her?"

"Sort of, from a long time ago," I replied.

"She is exceptional, that woman, French isn't she?"

"Yes she.... yes she is."

Any thought that Justine had rejected me did not exist at that moment. It was clear to me I was still in love with her, and here she is in my home country. Where could this lead apart from more heartbreak? But in the moment, all such negative thoughts were furthest from my mind.

Justine gave a brief speech referring to Maia when she was back in the crowd. Unfortunately I couldn't hear it in its entirety. Then as she left her group she was surrounded by admiring architects wanting a piece of her. I thought of going to congratulate her but I couldn't get near.

I meandered around the crowd with dark negative thoughts coming back to me. I felt unsettled, frustrated, so I thought it better to leave. I was about to go through the doors when there was a hand on my shoulder. It was Bernard. I turned.

"Christopher, it is bon is it not. You should know. You, this country, inspired her."

My reply must have sounded bitter, " A lot of good is that to me, She discarded me, did she not?"

Bernard seemed unperturbed by my tone, "Christopher you and I need to talk. Are you still here tomorrow?"

"No, I am leaving about lunchtime, flying out, I have one meeting with a local architect in the morning."

"Then come with me to the vineyard. Change your flight to the next day and stay the night."

"Justine?"

"No, she will not be there. She has to fly to Auckland, she has a lecture."

I thought for a minute. Justine aside, I really liked Bernard. Yes, I would.

*******

The next day Bernard picked me up from a hotel in the art deco district of town and we drove south. After settling in and fastening our seat belts he moved off. Bernard broke the ice by asking after my parents and family.

We then discussed my current architecture. He had not been aware of our big competition win. He had seen the construction on the waterfront in Wellington but did not know I was connected with the design consortium on the billboard. He congratulated me on my winning design saying he knew I had the talent.

I quickly tired of talking about me and asked him how he came to New Zealand. He said when he travelled here with Marie and Bastien, they had toured the wine regions. He had in mind the risks of climate change. France was beginning to experience droughts and big wild fires so he thought it prudent to look at alternatives globally, to diversify and lessen the risk of a catastrophic loss of the Chateau winery.

He explained, "there was a farm property for sale near the town of Waipawa. We decided to visit because there were a number of vineyards in the region. The property was largely on a north facing slope but extended out onto a stoney river terrace. At the southern end there was a limestone knoll. There was a story that went with the property. Once there was a small mission on the property occupied by some French nuns who were working with the Maori. The land was then gifted to the nuns by the local tribe. Unfortunately, a flood took away the main buildings and the nuns returned north with a young Maori girl who was training to be a nun. She eventually moved back to work among her people and settled in the only remaining structure of the old mission, a small cottage. She often used to walk to the top of the knoll to meditate and pray there. As a result the knoll was named after her, te puke-o-meri.

Well we walked, Marie and I, up to the top of the knoll and the view, it was magnifique. Marie loved it. It was the favourite place of her Maori namesake and immediately wanted to purchase the property. But it did not end with that. As we drove into the property along the river terrace there was a small gully to our left and at the bottom of that was where Meri had her cottage. The cottage was lost long ago but the remains of the fireplace were still there. At the bottom of the gully beside it was an ancient grape vine tangled in some scrub. I asked the farmer about it and he said he knew nothing about it having always been out of reach of the sheep so it had survived. I eventually took cuttings off that vine and discovered it was unique. So, we have established the vineyard here based on that grape, along with some malbec, merlot and cabernet franc on the slopes. We also grow some cabernet sauvignon on the river terrace gravels.

I think we have established a unique assemblage of grapes here to create a french style chateau wine using this new grape. We have given the grape a Maori name, 'Karepe a Meri.' I have a dream of creating a local appellation using it.

We have built the visitors centre here but I have established the main winery close to town. I am living in the old farm house but Justine has drawn up some plans for a new house."

I was so surprised that all this had happened without my knowledge. Ok then, the big question in my mind was what happened to Justine's marriage and why was she in New Zealand.

Bernard went quiet when I asked him and thought about it a while before saying. "There are some things I do not understand about 'les dames.' Her marriage? Well, you would have to ask her about that.

I think she needed to get away from Bordeaux, I was here so why not come here. Then there is you."

"Me? But she broke off her marriage."

"Non, I don't think she ever did. Not in her mind. She signed the paperwork but it was not what she wanted. Marie, her Maman, was dying. It is no secret that those two fought like the dogs all their lives. When her mother became ill I think she was driven by guilt. Marie had always wanted her to marry Philippe. But Marie changed her mind when she met your parents and fell in love with this country. Justine did not see that, she remembered always that Marie wanted her place in society and a son in law from one of the largest chateau in Medoc would give her that.

You may not know but after your last visit she had a breakdown. She was so torn between what she thought her mother wanted and her love for you well... she just couldn't take it.

I believe she would not have married Philippe. She would have found some way of coming back to you but she heard from someone that you had a new girl, Japonaise, I think, and you would marry."

I wondered who told her that and where they got their information. I was astounded at the irony. Cruel circumstances had conspired to drive us apart, to drive our divergence.

******

We arrived at the farmhouse located on the river terrace below the visitors centre. As I alighted the car, I looked across at the vineyards aligned along the terrace. I noticed some sheep wandering among the vines. " Hey, Bernard , you seem to have some sheep loose in there."

He arose from the back of the car where he had been retrieving the bags.

"Ah voila. Of course. They belong there. I am operating regenerative viticulture. I look after the soil, grow crops and run sheep in the winter. I did that in France. Maybe you did not notice. I introduced it here, I was surprised your winemakers did not widely do it themselves."

That was typically Bernard, as a businessman he was always astute, up with the play. He had the fortitude to move to a new country introducing something new. He never failed to impress me.

Later that night Bernard prepared dinner. He was eager to show me what foods would complement his new wine.

He had alternative assemblages of wines and a wine that was Karepe-a-Meri alone.

Before we settled down, I remarked how important the design of the visitor centre was to creating the wines' identity.

"Oui, it has already worked for us, but it goes deeper. It is both Justine's and Maia's design, you know. Maia had the idea, Justine had the means of creating it. Meri is in Maia's family history, her whakapapa they call it. Maia is a local Maori as Meri was.

We see this chateau as a blending of Maori and French tradition, but for Justine the visitors centre goes deeper. It is Justine's way of making peace with her mother."

I was taken with these connections and I thought it would be a logical Neo-Boheme response in Justine. But what Bernard said next astounded me.

"Did you know that Maia is an expert in regenerative architecture? That is how I met her and I introduced her to Justine. She was completing her doctorate at the time based on using biological materials in architecture, algae, moss and fungal mycelium,.. et tout le tralala."

"What?" I wasn't sure what he meant.

"ah , no matter! You should ask Maia about that. Maia is from the local tribe and is connected to this land. She was interested in my regenerative vineyard and came to see me."

That left me deep in thought. I was beginning to realise that Justine had moved on into something deeper with this Maori woman. Bernard brought me back from my thoughts with his first love, "And now let me teach you about this wine."

Before long Bernard had a tray of Bordeaux glasses as we sample various blends. He said that they had a DNA test done on the grape vine. It seemed that the DNA put it as a grape from Asia minor, Lebanon or perhaps Armenia but the characteristics of the wine it made did not match any known wine from the region. Bernard suggested it was more similar to a Greek or Italian wine in that it was aromatic but with high tannins, again it was different from those wines as it was much darker in colour.

"This grape is truly enigmatic. Because of the high tannins we have a blend with merlot to soften it. Because it is aromatic it goes well with say lamb. Maia says it goes well with Titi (mutton bird). A dish with Titi tastes a little like anchovies, it is salty and fatty, yes I think these two go would well together.

And that is how the evening went as we swirled our glasses, rolled the liquid around our tongue and all the ritual one does to understand the characteristics of the wine.

It was years since I had last done this with Bernard and understanding his passion for the wine, my frustration grew. Did I come here for wine or was it to do with Justine. Of course it was Justine, but why were we both avoiding the issue.

When I thought I had given Bernard enough time to indulge his passion I brought Justine back to the conversation.

"Bernard, this evening has been fascinating but I must admit it has been a long week and I am a little tired. I need to get something straight before I go to bed. Obviously after all this time I still feel strongly for Justine. What is your opinion about Justine and her fiancé?"

"Poof! He is not her fiancé, she was just saying that."

"Why would she just say that? Justine is not a person to lie."

"She knows she has hurt you badly, Mon dieu, she nearly destroyed herself. She is afraid."

"Afraid of what?"

"Of it all happening again."

"Why would it happen again?"

"It wouldn't. You have both learnt a hard lesson. She is a woman, you understand. They do not think like us men. You must go to her and make her believe that it would never happen again."

"What about this Peter?"

"Forget him. He is not half the man of you or I. He is, how you say, no contest."

"So what am I supposed to do, call in to her office and say hi?"

"Maybe, just do it with a bit of panache. You will win her; she wants you back even though she says she doesn't."

"The question is, do I want her back? She crushed me."

"Of course you do. You were made for one another. I know that. Marie came to realise that. Have you met anyone better?"

"I thought of Katelyn, what could be worse. I thought of Justine and our happy times and realised I could just , maybe make this work, if Justine was willing."

******

On the ride back to the airport the following day Bernard and I did not talk about Justine, nor did we talk about wine. We talked about Bernard's other great love, rugby. Justine's brother Bastien would often come to New Zealand and when here for a length of time, he would play for a local club. Bastien now ran the winery business in France with Bernard looking in from time to time. Bernard never mentioned what his brother Michel was doing.

Bernard was an avid follower of the Hurricanes Super Rugby team and would travel to Hurricanes games with Bastien when he was in New Zealand. Justine apparently would often go with Bernard especially when Bastien was not in the country. They would try and get to all the home games in Wellington and one was coming up. Bernard suggested that since I was living in Wellington he and I could attend the odd match. I hadn't followed Rugby since I left France, but why not, I thought.

That gave me an idea. Justine would probably attend the next match with Bernard as Bastien was back in France. That's it, I would give Justine a ring. I obtained her number off the company website and rang her. I nervously built myself up to ring her, pacing about, rehearsing what to say. The first time the phone went to voicemail. Damn! I almost chickened out with that. I did not leave a message and she wouldn't know my number. However, I tried again an hour later.

She answered,

"Justine Lafont speaking."

"Bonjour Justine, it's Christopher, Hi, how are you?"

"Really? Why are you ringing?"

" Hey when you are next in Wellington..."

She cut me off. "I do not go to Wellington."

It was curt, it was rude but worse Justine lied. For the second time, counting her comment about being Peter's fiancé. This was strange, Justine never lied, not when I knew her.

With the tone of her voice I lost all inclination to carry through.

I just replied, "Oh sorry to disturb you. I just had an idea, forget it, Au revoir Justine," And rang off.

I was left standing there in my living room. The phone loosely in my hands. I had an urge to throw it at the wall but I restrained myself.

Another kick in the guts. Why did I do this to myself, what is it about the fucking bitch, which makes me keep coming back for more.

I suppose a saner guy would have called it quits at that point, but not me. She had made me angry and with the anger I became determined. For the first time I was absolutely determined to win her back. I felt a surge of adrenaline, bizarrely the French Marseille crossed my mind, " allons enfants de la patrie ...."

I needed a new strategy. I rang Bernard.

"Bonjour Bernard, what gives. I just rang your daughter and she cut me down..."

"Bonjour to you too Christopher..."

There was an awkward silence.

Bernard broke the silence quietly asking , "What time did you call?"

"Oh about 12:30."

"Then perhaps she was having lunch with Peter."

"Oh yeah, shit maybe you're right."

"I will ring her if you like."

"No don't Bernard, it is entirely on me, I will ring again later."

And I did.

This time I didn't get as far as bonjour. She had my number now and immediately replied.

"Christopher, do not ring me. I do not want someone stalking me, I have promised Peter, I will no longer be going to the rugby with Bernard... finis!"

In anger I replied, "Justine I did not know you had become so submissive. Just where is the equality we once shared? You lied to me twice now and that is not the Justine that I loved and still love. All I wanted to do was talk. To find out if we still felt for one another, loved one another...." With that she hung up.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It got worse.

A little while later my phone rang. I did not recognise the number.

"Is that Mr Shand?"

"Yes, who is this?"

"It is Maia Baxter from Atelier Hoahoanga. I am ringing to tell you on behalf of Justine Lafont that harassment by an ex-husband is not appreciated. If you ring again Ms Lafont will have you reported to the police. This is the last warning."

"Police, me? Last warning..."

But she had rung off.

I sat back in my chair and sighed with despair. What do I do now? I can't give up. She can't love this idiot, I could see that by her body language when I first saw them.

*****

Bernard did come down and we attended a home game. The Hurricanes had won so that cheered us a little. It was filthy weather but at least we were under cover at the stadium.

We were walking along the long open concourse into the biting southerly sleet before I brought up my phone call with Justine. Bernard said he knew about the phone call as he wanted to know whether she was coming. Bernard had a couple of season tickets and he'd have to make arrangements if there were going to be three. Apparently, this Peter didn't like rugby and thought it was just organised violence played by thugs."

"Does he follow anything?"

"He follows the football," Bernard replied with a sniff.

"What does he have over Justine? She never was that submissive in the past."

Bernard had noticed it, "I don't know why she is like that. It happened with Philippe. It was terrible but that is a story for her to tell."

"I think she wants babies. That is what her mother would have wanted. It will not be long and she will not be able to have them. But this Peter is not good for her. I think he would be another like Philippe. He is very controlling. He likes to be the big man and I think his intelligence is beneath her."

"It sounds like desperation. Did she tell you if I rang again she would have the police charge me with stalking."

"No, we did not talk about you. I am trying not to interfere. You know what she is like, she would just be stubborn."

"Yeah, I know, she would dig her heels in. I saw her like that with her mother."

"What did you say to her, Christopher."

"I appealed to our old love, our equality. I said to her she was being submissive."

"You have given her something to think about. If I were you I would wait and let her think about it. It always worked for me if she became stubborn."

We left any talk on Justine for the night. Bernard stayed in my spare room in my inner city apartment for the night. We were now firm friends once again and he left the following morning after breakfast. I spent yet another restless night. I could not get out of my mind, what she said or the threat to call the police. It sounded to me like the end."

******

It must have been another month, I was sitting in front of a large format monitor rotating and examining some details in 3D. I was at the waterfront site office. A temporary satellite office that houses the site administration.

There was a call from the front office that there was an architect to see me. I wondered who it was. I usually operated from the main office but that was remote from the project. One of the final project phases was coming to the end and there were some design changes requested. To resolve this required close observation on site.

I did not hurry to see whoever it was. I had been deep in thought and felt a little angry at being disturbed. That was until I turned the corner and my anger turned to shock. A pleasant shock.

Standing there was a coy Justine Lafont standing in a tan coat with her hands clasped pensively in front.

"Oh my god Justine," I could not help grin, "Wow, what can I say? come in, come in."

It was then I noticed the nervous smile and the tear trickling down her cheek. Something new from 'she who never cries.'

"Is everything OK?"

I reached out to her and she shuffled into my arms without a word. Instinctively I hugged her there was still a little chill from the outside but as we embraced, she began to warm.

I noticed others in the office looking at us and I could not help announcing.

"Hey everyone, meet the famous Justine LaFont. And for some reason there was applause."

"Justine playfully beat me on the chest. I turned to her and said "I'll get my coat, and we can find some place to get coffee and talk privately."

We strolled across the new plaza to a central pavilion, an outdoor events structure called Atamira hakari. Another building we had designed in the urban precinct with our main buildings. It had on its first floor a unique and very desirable café with outdoor green landscaped and sheltered alcoves just right for this still clear crisp morning.

We ordered our coffee and chose some pastries.

Pulling out her chair, I took Justine's coat and she sat down as I took my place facing her, I lent across the small white square table. "Is there something wrong Justine?"

I had noticed from the time we met she had been tense and jittery. There seemed to be something else, more than just meeting me.

"Peter and I had a huge argument and he hit me."

"Oh my god really. Are you OK?"

"I'll be good, but he is becoming like Philippe."

"Like Philippe?"

"Suspicious, controlling."

"What were you arguing about?"

"You."

"Did he know about my phone calls?"

"No, he has been like it since he saw you with me at the awards. He thinks you will take me from him."

I could think of nothing better at the time but I kept my powder dry. Probably best not to push it, I thought.

It was then we were called for our coffees.

Once we were settled, I probed her. "So, you have come to me. Last time you spoke you threatened to call the police."

"That was Maias's idea. I got very upset."

"You do still have feelings for me, then?"

"Oui, mon amour." She murmured

You have no idea how those three little words caused me to feel. My back straightened and I could feel the hairs pickling on my neck.

"Has Peter hit you before?"

" He hits me in the stomach so nobody sees a bruise."

"When was the last time before then?"

"The night of the award."

"Justine, he's fucking abusive. You are more intelligent than that. Why haven't you left."

"I am afraid to. Napier is a small city. He is well known and popular."

"Have you ever been afraid of me?"

"Only when I told you that night in the café that I was leaving you."

"Did I do anything? Have I ever done anything that would make you afraid of me."

"Non." She said in a little voice.

"What else? Is he faithful to you."

"Not really, he worries me. He says he likes French women because they allow their husbands a friend with benefits."

"What? A friend with benefits?"

"It's his words, he means affair. It's like he's joking but I am sure he has cheated on me. I have been told he has."

"The more I hear about this guy the more I think he is a waste of a human."

"You know you could get a protection order against him."

"How would I do that?"

"Go to the police I suppose."

"I would need evidence, wouldn't I?"

I thought for a bit.

"Record him on the phone. Set to record when he does not see you then provoke him. You'll know what buttons to push."

"Oui, mention you." She sniggered nervously. "Then added, it's a risk though. He could kill me."

"You really think he could do that?"

Justine nodded.

"Ok, where's Bastien? Is he back in the country."

"He's been back a month."

"A month? Bernard has not mentioned that."

"Oh, he's back to play his club rugby and Papa and he ... well... and of course, Bastien is married now and Elea is with him."

"Ok have him there in the bedroom or something when you do this."

"Isn't this dishonest, setting him up."

"Hitting you is not exactly legal. What are you doing today.? Do you have an overnight bag?"

"Yes, but I have not told Maia I am staying the night."

" Ring her and tell her. You stay at my place, I have a spare room. "

"Are you not seeing anyone, I don't want to..."

"No, I have been celibate for some time. I have a bottle or two of an excellent wine called Chateau Meri, which I am sure you will enjoy. I'll give you the code and a card for my apartment. I am sorry I have inspections and meetings today. I will see you say six. I don't have too much food; we can perhaps go out. We have so much to talk about ."

It was after five when I had a call from my office in town. One of the younger female graduates rang me and was extremely agitated.

"Chris, we have some guy in reception and he is extremely angry, he is asking for you and a Justine Lafont. I told him you have not been in since early this morning and nobody by the name of Justine Lafont has been here. He called me a liar. What should I do?"

"Has he threatened anybody?"

"He's made all kinds of threats; one was to kill you."

"He actually said that, did he? The idiot, Shit, is anybody senior there."

"Nicks in."

"Excellent, get him on the phone."

Nick came on the phone and I told him to tell the guy that everything he had just said has been recorded on our CCTV. Tell him to leave immediately as they are calling the police and if he returns, he will be trespassing. Tell him that you are obliged not to give out my address or number and suggest he go home. He should copy Peter's tantrum from the CCTV recording onto the phone, send it to me, and I will get Justine to take out a protection order.

Nick expressed surprise that Justine was with me and I told him not to tell anyone.

I got back to my apartment and I was relieved to see that Justine had bought some food. I did not relish the idea of spending time outside with a psychopathic maniac loose in the streets. Justine had cooked some smoked sausages in lentils and veggies, good winter fare, and accompanied by Chateau Meri of course. I remarked on how nice the dinner was and how we used to cook together. I mentioned that this meal was a step up from what we managed when we were first married.

Justine beamed and seemed more relaxed with me now. Despite the day's travailles her tension seemed to have dissipated.

After dinner and more wine, we relaxed onto the sofa. It was time for a talk. I told her of my life with Katelyn, how after hearing of Justine's marriage to Philippe I went a little mad. I explained that I was being stalked by this young beautiful woman. She seemed to be the antithesis of Justine and a young trophy wife to boost my ego. I had always held out hope for reconciliation and with the marriage that last vestige of hope was gone. I felt devastated and angry. Dating Katelyn was like an act of revenge. She was available, looking to step up as she saw it, she was so easy. Looking back on it the relationship lacked romance, as well as everything else as I had been sexually frustrated. "Yup, a definite case of a relationship on the rebound."

Justine listened in silence nodding from time to time.

I did not go into much detail about my marriage with Katelyn but described how we were so focussed on our work and our ambitions that we grew apart. With the fading sex there was little glue to hold us together. On top of it all Katelyn was young, precociously successful in project management but lacked a worldliness that enabled some, who did not have her best interests in mind, to take advantage of her.

With her sexual appetite she was drawn into a world of drugs and dare I say it, debauchery. By that stage we were way far apart and I was too absorbed in my work and I did not see it. Although I suspected she was playing around I was in denial, not wanting to complicate my life.

On top of that, we had married without me actually understanding her. She had unresolved issues attached to her sexuality that were probably the significant underlying cause of her behaviour. I never came to understand it until the day we parted. In short, the whole thing was a disaster."

As I told Justine this, I sat on the sofa looking down, not looking at her. I had not noticed Justine moving closer to me and by the end she had her arm around my shoulders in an act of empathy. I finished and became conscious of her closeness. I turned and our eyes met. I stared into her brown eyes, glasses discarded, she took my face in her hands and kissed me on the lips. Not sexually, just compassionately.

We sat in silence. Part of me wanted to tell her about the night I discovered Katelyn at Harry Mills and the scene of disgusting depravity but I knew that talking about that would thrust our new developing relationship into a minefield with no good outcome. There was no good way she would understand what I did.

After we had each taken a sip or two of wine Justine cleared her throat and said that she had better be as honest as I had with her. She said some of what she had to say was going to be difficult for her as it goes right back into her teenage years. She thought that if we have any future together, even if it is only friendship, she needed me to understand what might have been the motive for her actions.

In her words. "You must understand Philippe was my first , I hesitate to say love, maybe infatuation. He was slightly older and glamorous. Ma mere, encouraged us together. Looking back on it he was arrogant from the start but I thought that was just how boys were. He and my brother Michel were best friends. They went from teasing me to Philippe making advances. One day he caught me alone in the house and he took me in my bed. I found out later that my brother Michel had arranged it. Once he had taken my virginity, he professed his love for me but he pestered me for sex all the time. I was terrified of getting pregnant. I was certain maman would not allow me the pill. He was experienced, while I was not, but he would not use a condom. He decided we should have sex anally. We worked out a way of doing it.

Maman was happy I was going with him and trusted us together but it was all about sex for him. He came from a family in Medoc. They were ostentatious and Maman thought it would be good for us socially for me to marry him. But I was not his only one. When I realised I was not really in love with him and I decided I really did not like him and I broke it off. It was easy as I was leaving home to attend the Malaquais in Paris.

Since then, I never really had a lover until I met you. Oh, I had the occasional boyfriend, I was not without experience but I gave my heart to nobody. Occasionally Philippe and I would meet up but it would just be sex, there was no romance.

So, when I gave my heart to you it was new to me. I thought sometimes I had gone mad, my desire for you was intense. Mentally it interfered with my work. As we grew closer together, and we worked together I became at peace with you and I was the happiest I had ever been.

My mother was not happy and was always telling me about Philippe who used to still ask after me. Even my brother Michel would tell me that I was the one that Philippe wanted to marry.

When we went to China everything fell apart. You know this, I felt isolated there. We could not work together. Our apartment was confined. It was claustrophobic. Then Maman fell badly ill. My family wanted me in France. You were so absorbed in your work and we were not communicating well.

All my life I had argued with my mother. I found her overbearing, she would try to control me and I would rebel. I would do things just to make her angry. I would turn to my Papa, I was always his daughter.

When Maman became ill, I felt so terribly guilty. I so wanted to make it up to her before she died.

Philippe started to come around. Suddenly he and Michel seemed sympathetic. Philippe could be very charming and he was at his very best and attentive to both Maman and me. Both Michel and he were so very nice to Maman and me and they helped us a lot.

I realised I had been so homesick in China, I wanted to return to Bordeaux and be with my family and friends. I did not want to go back to China but I knew that you were committed to your contract. I did not think it was good for me to work overseas and when the professorship came up in Bordeaux, I thought it a dream come true. Unfortunately, this would not work for you. For your career you had to be where the most prestigious Architecture was. I did not see a life in China or the middle east living like we did in Shanghai, so I thought I should be here with my family and friends. Les neo-bohemes welcomed me back and made me feel wanted again to advance the cause.

By then of course Maman had grown to like you but I knew she had always wanted me to marry Philippe so she encouraged Philippe to come around. Oh, she was sympathetic for you but she said that some things cannot work out.

I thought that even if I did not marry Philippe, it was better to marry a French man. So I decided it was better for both of us that we divorce.

After you came back that second time, I realised I had made a huge mistake. I could not control my feelings for you. I broke down after you left. But you were so far away and could not help. Papa was very sympathetic and even suggested I should go to you. He thought that surely you and I could work something out. If you truly loved me you would find a way of coming back and even living in France."

At that point I nodded. "I would have. When I had that coffee, the last time, I came with that intention but as we talked there seemed no way in. Your mind seemed to have been made up"

"I was mixed up, confused. I just felt I had destroyed us. I got drawn into Philippe's family. His mother was formidable. They live a very wealthy lifestyle and for a while it was very seductive. Philippe was the perfect gentleman.

It was when I heard that you had someone, I think Suki's sister and you were to be married that I finally decided there would be no way back."

"Who told you that?"

"Helene heard about it from Gaspard I think."

"You trusted Helene? She would have heard something and embellished it, I shouldn't wonder. Hiroti and I were never an item. We got together for a couple of weeks while she was visiting Suki."

"Oh, I was depressed following that news. At this time my mother was in remission. Philippe proposed and a lavish engagement party was held at their chateau with all of Medoc's society.

Then between Maman and Philippe's mother they proposed a big wedding and no expense was spared."

"Yes, I heard that it was at Cassis. When I heard it was like a kick in the guts. Cassis was our special place after we were married."

"That was Philippe's idea. He knew we had gone there for our honeymoon. I had no say in the matter. He knew we had stayed there. He said we had been like a couple of primitive backpackers so he was going to show me how a wedding with him in Cassis would be more sophisticated and stylish and what I really deserved."

"I can't believe that. The idea was so petty."

"That is what he was like. That was only the start."

"I found I was totally under his and his family's control. I only found out later that they had financial problems and the intention was to take over my father's business interests through Michel but at the time my family did not know that."

"Once married Philippe's charm disappeared except when it was on show in society. I discovered he had a long term woman, which he planned to keep on in our marriage. I found he could be cruel and vindictive. He wanted me to stop work, he wanted children and the pressure went on me. I went off the pill. Then it got catastrophically worse. Michel was over for dinner one night and he and Philippe got hopelessly drunk. They drugged me with a date rape drug.

Both of them raped me that night. I knew little about it until I woke up in the morning battered and bruised and bleeding. I had been used in every way possible. Both of them were in the bed with me and had passed out. I managed to get out of the bed without waking them, got dressed and left the house and hid down the road. I rang my father who came and collected me.

I was taken to hospital and the local gendarmery was advised. I was found to have Rohypnol in my system and DNA from both their semen.

The whole thing got into the press and it was a huge scandal. On top of everything I found I was pregnant and most probably from that night. But I had a miscarriage.

By this time my mother had died. Thank goodness she had died before the scandal broke but I was carrying the grief of her loss as well. I also had to resign my professorship; I had barely been functioning at a competent level as it was.

Eventually Michel and Philippe both went to prison and Bastien took over running the winery from Michel.

It was papa who came up with the idea of me coming to New Zealand. I was aware they had bought property here but not the full story. He was already spending time in New Zealand and he said he would accompany me and spend as much time as possible there conducting his business. The original intention was that he would train me into the business but he introduced me to Maia who had been visiting papa's vineyard. I was so impressed with her work and as we had complimentary skills we decided to join forces and open our combined architectural practice. I remain involved with papa's business but architecture is my first love.

So briefly that is what you missed."

I was stunned speechless at the end of her tale. It seemed that Justine's and my life apart had both been parallel disasters. She began to cry and I drew her in and hugged her tightly. We stayed like that for some time sharing our pain. I thought of the coincidental similarity of what had happened both to Justine and Katelyn. The difference was that I thought I could have prevented what happened to Katelyn, I had no control with Justine. But I resolved that I needed to learn from my inability to support Katelyn and stand by Justine in every way. That is if I am given the opportunity.

I brought up Peter.

"Oh, Peter was my next mistake. I thought it was just a casual friendship. His father is in real estate and was a potential client of ours. He got serious very quickly. I noticed he was becoming very proprietary of me and controlling. After my experience with Philippe, I was trying to stop him from becoming serious. I was trying to think of a way to let him down gently when I saw you at the award."

"Why did you say he was your fiancé?"

"I was shocked to see you. After everything that had happened, the hurt and what I had done to you I was afraid that you would want revenge and with Peter, I did not want complications. I said that on the spur of the moment but the remark only encouraged him. He has been coming on hard since and talking about marriage and babies."

"Well, we have to see him off. Do you think he will stay around Wellington or go back to Napier.?"

"I don't know. I am afraid of what he might do."

We left it at that.

Somehow the coincidental and unlikely pairing of our experiences drew us together. For me, it was the guilt of not being able to prevent Katelyn from sinking into her private hell. Justine was seeking protection from the cruel events that fate had slung at her. The urge to help Justine came from a need to atone for my past inadequacy. I was determined to do my best for Justine, to do what I could. I had a second chance. There was no way I wanted to blow it.

She snuggled into me, at ease in my embrace, trusting me that I would look after her.

Then it was time for bed but I was reluctant to take our new togetherness too far.

I prepared the spare bedroom for Justine and we spent the rest of the evening trying to watch some mindless movie on the TV. We would deal with Peter in the morning.

*****

The next day Justine elected to stay in Wellington so I called into work to say I would be out of the office. On the basis of Peter's ranting in the office reception, we managed to put in an application for a temporary protection order. We contacted Bastien and told him the story. Justine had an apartment in Napier overlooking the inner harbour. Sebastien went as promised to contact a locksmith to change the locks. Later that day he reported that when he visited the apartment he thought he saw Peter along the waterfront nearby. Justine said he frequented a bar there so I asked Sebastien whether he could muscle up some of his club rugby mates to warn him off but definitely not to threaten him. Sebastien said he could think about it.

Justine rang Maia to tell her what was going on. Later on, she rang to say she had seen him near the office at lunch time so we confirmed he had returned to Napier. She was still nervous about going back to Napier so we went shopping together for some clothes to tie her over.

Justine told me she would feel safer in Wellington for a while. I asked about what projects she had on. She said that there had been some interest following the award win but the work load was light.

I suggested that I could commission her to undertake some contract work for us. That would give her a workstation and she could work remotely on her projects as well as ours. Justine jumped at the idea and began pacing about making plans.

I was consumed with helping her but I had given no thought to our relationship. Looking back on it, we just slipped into sync as though all the years between did not exist. Despite the traumas both of us had experienced it was as if all that had all just evaporated.

There was a line though. We were like a brother and sister who had spent a long time apart. There was no romance and there was no sex but there was warmth and there was affection.

She settled into a spare workstation in the project office. Nick, Suki, Consuela and Gaspard all came around to see her. It was like the old team. I gave her direction of what tasks there were for her. The pared down waterfront project was nearing completion. Much of what she would be doing would be defects inspections and a number of modifications for tenants. Justine was also working on her projects and these I found fascinating. She had obviously progressed from the days we had worked together.

Maia and her Chateau Meri project was parametric in its own right and had been developed using Maia's face as a model. Nick and I quizzed her on the applications she had been using. They were advanced from what Nick had developed. Apparently Justine had worked with a French protégé of Nicks, Serge Merle, from Bordeaux days, who had joined the university staff under Justine while she was professor.

We could not fire it up with our computers but Nick was keen to travel up and work with her once she could return to Napier.

What had brought Maia and Justine together was even more fascinating. Maia's field was regenerative architecture, the creation of buildings as ecosystems. My work has always incorporated sustainable architecture but this was not just sustaining but restoring and improving the environment. Justine explained that as a result of her doctorate Maia had been working with a global community. They had developed a new building material composed of clay that was modified by fungus to be durable, breathable and non toxic. It was developed to support moss but its properties had made it ideal for cutting and sculpting in its own right. The visitors centre at Chateau Meri was composed of this but instead of being covered in moss it had been sealed to give it the marble like finish.

We wound up in an intense discussion about the possibilities of regenerative architecture that so fascinated the team that it was taken out of the office and into a restaurant where we pumped Justine on what she knew and her sources. It was an inspiration and it sparked speculation on what it could bring to our work.

Meanwhile I got a call from Bastien. He told me that over the weekend they had discovered Peter in a waterfront bar. When he went into the men's, three of the forwards from Bastien's Rugby team followed him in and two of them took the urinals each side of him. Bastien assured me they did not threaten him. Bastien told me word for word what happened. When they moved in next to Peter they said, "What's a pencil dick like you got, that a classy lady like Justine could possibly want." With that Bastien could not help laughing and I had to snigger at that myself.

Bastien said that they then told Peter that under no circumstance should he come anywhere near Justine, her work or home. He assumed they were threatening and they said no. They said, " pencil dick, we are not threatening you, bro' the cops are doing that with the protection order. So, if you ever break the terms of the protection order it is our civic duty to do anything we can to help the cops. And we know your old man is a big shot and we know you have mates at the soccer club, but we have some mob mates. We really can't control our mob mates. When they don't like someone and you ever end up behind bars we will not be looking after you."

I relayed a slightly abridged version of this to Justine. The incident made Justine feel better about going back to Napier but just the same she stayed around a month before returning.

Peter was seen with another woman so it was assumed he had another distraction and his stalking had ceased. Bastien ran into him in the bar and had a word himself. He told him to look after his new woman. Peter assured him that he was backing off and Bastien said they shook on it.

Seeing Justine move back to Napier jolted me in a way that I had not been expecting. Pangs of longing surfaced. I discovered that my latent feelings for her were emerging once again. It must have been the same for her because we were on the phone together constantly, any excuse.

Nick and I went to Napier, on the surface to acquaint ourselves with her parametric modelling applications. It also gave us a chance to get to know Maia and learn more about regenerative architecture. We stayed over for the weekend when Suki arrived and we spent a day with Maia and her partner in her house across the hills outside the town. Bastien and his wife Elea were there as well, along with Bernard. It was a poignant weekend with them as they were due to fly out to France and I would not see them for a while.

Maia's partner Nikau and I manned the barbecue. Nikau explained to me how Maia had been a gifted student and had been impressed by a guest lecture that Justine had made at the university. Coincidentally she met Bernard who brought them together. He said, from there they climbed the poutama together (Stairway to knowledge). They seemed to inspire one another. Justine had been learning Maori and had even been talking about doing a language immersion course. I was not surprised. He continued, "Your Wahine Wiwi is a remarkable woman. She respects kaupapa maori and has made good friends as a result."

That was the open minded Justine I was proud of, always curious, always looking to expand her horizons.

As we continued to wrangle with the meat I couldn't help thinking of us as the cliché, men on the meat and women on the greens stuff, but there it was. It gave me a chance to understand how the unlikely (to me at least) relationship between Maia and Justine evolved.

In all it was a great afternoon. Maia's place was close to a river so we adjourned for a swim and to watch the eels surfacing in the shallows. Afterward we were back at the house having our last drinks, Chateau Meri of course. Suki was on driving duty with an SUV to take us townies back to Napier and Elea was to drive Bernard and Bastien down to Waipawa.

It was Maia who asked us if we were getting back together again, "I mean you look so good together."

I remember Justine and I looked at each other and smirked and Maia exclaimed," See, you are, I can tell."

With that Justine kissed me smack on the lips and it lingered and there were whoops and whistles from the others.

Bernard chimed in, "before we say our au revoir, I think it is time for a toast."

We raised our glasses.

Bernard said it was wonderful to have us all back together, and to now have Maia and Nikau in the fold. But especially to have our two lovers here together where they belong. Then he raised his glass. "So, a nos retrouvailles, here's to friends reunited."

From then on, our romance was back on track.

*******

That evening I stayed with Justine, but not in the bedroom that Bernard usually uses, I slept with Justine.

It started as we arrived back. My head was fuzzy having probably more wine than I should have and Justine was probably the same way. We had just entered the door and Justine closed it behind me then faced me, taking my face in her two hands. Her signature opening, she had done countless times when we were married. She gave me a long lingering kiss. It is difficult to express how good that felt. From the time we had reconnected we had danced around one another, nothing overtly romantic and no sex. But today it was as though our friends and family had given us permission to do what we had both secretly longed for.

You hear a lot of cliched nonsense about reconciling spouses. For us I discovered we were not two different people despite our experiences. We had reverted to the people we were, like two old close friends who had not seen each other for twenty years, we picked up where we left off.

It was as though that horrible night at the café in Bordeaux had never happened, it had all just been a bad dream.

It was never going to be a night of mad sex, by two frustrated partners boiling over restraining their animalistic urges. It was a night of rediscovering ourselves, of making love, romantic love. As I stared into her intelligent eyes, I saw a woman I could trust and relax with. Someone who would always have my back. The bitch that announced she was to divorce me had disappeared, an aberration, an irrelevance to how we now felt.

We both sat on her bed preparing ourselves, helping one another remove our clothes, disbursed with kissing and embracing and just touching and caressing. Naked, she was as adorable to me as she had always been. Even more beautiful because she was back after having been missing for so long. We both shared her ensuite having a shower and brushing our teeth. A ritual that we had shared so many times as husband and wife, afterwards we retired to make love in our bed. The ritual was imbued with a familiarity, an experience that you had once savoured and missed for so long that you could now enjoy again as you once did.

I held her naked in my arms in the low light of the room and stepped back to admire her body, which hardly seemed to have changed. I pressed her to me again feeling her tiny breasts and hard nipples against me, her lush comforting bush pushing into my erection as I lowered her on to the bed.

Rather than a night of wild sex we did it missionary so that we could study each other's faces expressed with joy and ecstasy. I went down on her, tasting her through the salad of unruly hair, and she on me. There was no pressure, no need to prove anything, just a lazy move from here to there taking and absorbing each caress resounding through my body. I would not know how many times each of us came. We finally spooned, my dick clamped between her legs. And we talked, how we talked. We revived our future together and we revived our hopes for a family. But there would be one major change, we committed to be together, our aspirations would not be allowed to diverge.

I think I summed up that day when I said, "What a day! I have learnt enough about regenerative architecture and now I have discovered regenerative love."

This got Justine's attention, who turned and faced me, "I agree mon amour, regenerative love and all the love we have missed in ourselves to work with."

*******

Coming together seemed to have been easy. Handling the seismic shift in our lives, not so easy. Justine was building her practice with Maia and they were well on their way.

My involvement with the giant waterfront project was coming to an end. The business side of our practice Architects Nisugac had begun, largely dominated by the needs of Brendon Chan. I had phased myself out of the Asian projects. I had lost interest in the travel required. I was yearning for stability and a local focus. As a result the practice expanded with layers of management without me. I still had a significant shareholding but I was no longer the design lead. I acted more as a consultant and a lot of my activity was engaged with local and government authorities and institutions.

I still needed a design outlet and, in a way, Justine arrived just in time. I went into negotiation with Maia and Justine to become part of their practice.

Negotiating with my ex wife; that was an interesting turn of events.

Maia was rightly concerned that I could dominate them. On my side, by retaining my interest in Architects Nisugac I brought the resources of a very large company that would assist their small practice in larger commissions. In the end I became a sort of sole practitioner but contracted to either practice as required. My shareholding in the larger practice gave me a regular dividend that enabled me independent means. I now had the luxury in indulging myself in projects that took my interest rather than delivering against strict time frames and budgets.

Justine wanted to base herself with me in Wellington but it meant regular travel to Napier, as this developed Maia found herself in Wellington more often than not as their exposure following their national award had led to countrywide commissions.

Oh I neglected to say. Soon after Justine and my reconciliation, Justine and Maia won the supreme national award. It also came with a gold medal and a citation acknowledging this as a groundbreaking project. I took great joy in attending the award dinner in Auckland and who should I see there but one obnoxious assessor that I had locked horns with so many months before during the regional awards assessment. He hadn't said a good word about the visitor centre and did his best to undermine the scoring. I caught his eye and smiled but he quickly looked away.

*****

A year later there was a change of government. The new green dominated coalition wanted to reactivate the events centre. Its mothballing had remained controversial as the scheme had always been promised as part of the rejuvenation of the city after the catastrophic earthquake. It was an amenity that the city lacked and the lobbying for it had never ceased.

Also under consideration was the revival of the final component of the original competition, the National Gallery; the design had never proceeded beyond the concept stage due to governmental costs concerns. The new Governments approach was a purpose led one rather than the previous government's narrow financial approach. Their purpose was to restore Wellington as a viable city as it was before the earthquake. The work only partially done had not been achieved because of strict financial parameters that made no sense in terms of achieving the outcome desired. The new governments set out to structure the finance to suit the purpose, that would provide the most financially viable result.

Gaspard approached me saying that the firm had been approached by the Minister of Infrastructure noting that as we held all the documentation. They enquired if it was feasible for us to complete the project as we had originally been contracted.

Gaspard had replied that it was but he would want the original leadership team for the project. In theory we were never discharged nor were we fully paid for the documentation we held.

In addition Gaspard said the Minister had asked if the scheme could be modified to reflect the new governmental values and specifically mentioned a regenerative architectural approach. They dropped a bombshell by specifically asking if the firm would be willing to act as a collab with Atelier Hoahoanga not knowing of our existing connection. It seemed the minister was well aware of Atelier Hoahoanga's work.

Of course, Gaspard had every intention of agreeing and was rounding up and confirming the team for the rejuvenated project. The modification would be significant and expensive but entirely feasible. It would be the project to cement all our futures. It seemed the old team was back on the road but this time enhanced by Atelier Hoahanga.

*****

In the meantime, following our reconciliation, Justine had planned a 2 month visit back to Bordeaux. I was firmly of the opinion that I should go too. I wasn't going to let her get away, I said, and Justine happily agreed. The idea grew wings as Nick and Suki; Gaspard and Consuela were interested in joining us. Nick had in mind visiting Serge Merle who had collaborated with Justine in upgrading Nick's parametric applications.

Just before we went I proposed to Justine. She had no inkling that I would do it. I had kept her rings from the divorce. I did it as a surprise reception with our friends at our apartment in Wellington. I called it our re-engagement party. We had talked about getting married but we had not figured out how to do it so I took the initiative.

The trip back to France turned into a grand reunion of the whole team as we met in San Sebastian with Markel and his wife.

Justine also made time to give a guest lecture at her old university on her work in New Zealand. In fact, winning the award in New Zealand made its way into the local media and she had become a kind of hometown hero over it.

For most of the time we stayed at the chateau with Bernard, Bastien and Elea. We decided that we would have a tiny wedding there and we would use our old rings. I am not sure why I kept the ring . I wouldn't have dared use them with Katelyn and Justine needed some reassurance. "I just felt," I told Justine, "that despite all that had happened, I had never totally given up hope." I added that we were both the benefit of that. I got smothered with kisses when we discussed it. Justine admitted she never really had either.

Well we registered our marriage and had a catered dinner, just the seven of us. Including Sera, her oldest friend, and Sera's partner. As a wedding present Bernard made Justine and I partners in the New Zealand wine operation. When Justine first moved to New Zealand Bernard had been grooming her for that but she veered off into the Architectural practice with Maia. I felt somewhat of an imposter over it. I was hardly the expert in the area but we had all the support of Bernard and Bastien.

While in France, we never went to see Michel in prison. He was now persona non grata to the family. Only Bernard out of a sense of duty ever visited him. He had been totally wiped from any form of inheritance over his behaviour.

Justine and I decided to start a family at that point. Justine was spooked about the often cliched biological clock so went off the pill and there was a corresponding increase in our sex life. We took a short honeymoon down to Biarritz sitting nicely with Justine's ovulation.

While there we were lying on a rather large bed after dinner and too much wine. The night was exceedingly hot, the day had been a furnace outside and we had retreated from the beach to the airconditioned hotel. The air conditioning did not seem to be working so well as we laid spread-eagled on the bed. Although conducive to being naked the heat was not so conducive to sex so we amused ourselves with the remnants of our wine talking about it.

Conversation started casually with architecture, sort of. Justine, who had been giggling about this and that, spontaneously came up with what was supposed to be a serious topic. It started innocuously with a bad joke about the heat.

"Mon dieu, it is so hot."

"Not half as hot as the Architect next to me."

Justine sniggered, "oh la la, practicing your dad jokes, are you?"

"Oh, I think we need more sex in architecture, don't you? We shouldn't be keeping it to ourselves, we should open it to the world."

"You are terrible, mon amour."

Saying that she began lightly stroking my leg resulting, invoking a pleasurable response. Then came the serious bit.

"Oh did I tell you, Papa wants us to recommence the design for the rest of the complex at Chateau Meri."

Justine had managed to raise my erection with her stroking and I immediately replied, "Is sex part of the brief then,"

Justine snorted, "ppfff," acknowledging the unintended juxtaposition of our comments.

I waved my now erect appendage. "We could have a tall building based on my dick."

"Alors! That is so cliché. Instead, think of the Qatar stadium that Zahar Hadid designed. A giant vulva to play football in."

"Yes but we don't have any stadiums on our books."

"How about a giant vaginal entrance like a gothic cathedral."

"The Sagrada Familia has a spectacular vagina."

"Oui , tres bon, keep it coming."

"Arc de triumph."

"Alors, too much. I was thinking that Maia wants a waharoa, an entrance way to the extension of the complex at Chateau Meri. It represents birth, Bah voila! That would be perfect"

"Fuck me, you can be naughty Justine."

"Naughty but traditional and appropriate, so why not."

"Really? I think I have an idea."

'What is it?"

"Just humour me. Come straddle me."

"What are you going to do?"

"Ssssh, you'll spoil the feeling. Come on, cowgirl. It's too hot for anything else."

As instructed Justine squatted, lowering herself herself onto my high rise. My dick, its head now fully exposed in all its towering glory, disappeared into her dark tangled undergrowth. Justine began to thrust her hips backwards and forward until her pink glistening lips began to show. As the moisture began to lubricate my dick I sensed that old familiar aroma, eau de Justine.

Justine began swivelling her hips as she lifted and compressed . While she did this, I reached up and tweaked her nipples. It took a bit of work but, despite all the odds in the heat, I came. Justine dismounted and I went down on her to reciprocate. I pulled her pussy lips wide exposing her dark pink folds beneath. As I stretched her lips her lacy vagina began to open, my cum beginning to show and ooze. I leaned in and enclosed it all in my mouth. It was warm and creamy, a Christopher- Justine cocktail; a taste sensation.

Justine became increasingly animated as I cleaned up her saturated folds with my tongue. Lifting my head I then worked two fingers into her portal curling them under her pubis while she worked her tiny tits and brown outsize nipples. As we continued, I could feel her getting increasingly aroused with light shudders, her vulva softer, wetter and swollen. I briefly withdrew my fingers from her now fully gaping vagina.

"Ok, here comes my idea, are you ready?"

"What are you doing now?"

"Creating architecture."

I began stretching and pulling the lips around the vagina and clit until I had a composition with the right proportions and shape. I see a tympanum with the clit at the keystone forming the gable with a deeply recessed curved entrance flanked by colonettes , oh yes! I looked up at Justine announcing " I have it here now, the ultimate model for our new architectural gateway, a magnificent inspiration to be enshrined in perpetuity. An everlasting monument to Justine's cunt. We should give it a 3-D scan immediately. Laughing, Justine gave me a slap to the head. She didn't realise I was being serious.

"I thought to myself, 'yes! we will do this."

We settled, our ardor deflated in the heat.. We lay and I eventually drifted asleep until I was awoken by a horny Justine, whispering in a husky voice, "I have been saving something for you," She said, "just for you, something that I have never done for anyone else. Shall we continue, can you do it again?"

That got me wondering as she shuffled about and arranged herself in a new position.

"Then I remembered,"My god it's the, whatsit, can you still do it."

"L'huitre viennoise. Yes, I can still do it but I have saved it for you. "

"The sight of her in that frame of arms and legs, Her brown eyes glinting in the moonlight from the window, her birdlike features. And I was aroused, oh how I was aroused. I shuffled up on my knees to take her, and before me she had made herself vulnerable and helpless to my desire. I could feel her trust and faith in me as I entered her well lubricated portal. And me, my cock was stiff and aching for her as I slipped into her depths.

Then concentrating on my task I had her on song once again, giving little shudders now and again. As she squirmed she fought for space and her posture began to unravel, untangling, turning this way and that. "You want it from behind?" I huskily whispered."

"AAAH, oui, mon amour." She groaned breathily in reply, oh that phrase and the accent I will never tire of, never resist.

She turned, wriggling over and I entered her. She pushed back at me as I began, in and out, in and out. She clenched her butt, trapping my dick then wiggled and twerked. The thought of Katelyn crossed my mind, Justine was no slouch in the erotic arts herself.

We continued, Justine working me as I did her, then I could feel her shudder. She was cumming and it was all too much for me, I let out a groan. She stiffened with a sudden gasp and squealed followed by a couple of short spasms. Justine compressed back onto the bed, as I discharged into her, my back arching as her arms flailed and her legs pumped at me. We collapsed and rested in post-coital silence, I slumped across her.

Justine broke it with that old female trope, "What are you thinking about mon amour."

"I was wondering, have you ever used kegel balls?"

"What are kegel balls?"

"Never heard of kegel balls? Do I have a treat for you?"

******

Epilogue

Ten years on. Justine and I, with our two children Marie and Gaspard, are in the stands at the Wellington Stadium with Bernard. Bernard was now quite elderly but still would not miss a test match even if the French weren't playing. Today the All Blacks were playing their old rivals the Springboks and Brenard was wearing a black supporters jacket proudly with the silver fern. He sang the New Zealand national anthem. Something he would never do if his beloved Les Bleus were playing. Then it would be all about Le Coq Gaulois and La Marseillaise.

We sat with our hot chips smothered in tomato sauce, a treat only to be had at rugby matches, with our beers in hand... Well, soft drinks for the little ones. I noticed an odd couple with, I guessed, their daughter manoeuvring along two rows in front. I thought I recognised one. Somewhat older but apart from slightly greying hair hardly changed from when I knew her. I nudged Justine." I think I know her, that's Lauren."

"Who is Lauren?"

"She was a friend of Katelyn's" As I said that I was wondering who the guy she was with.

Then Lauren's guy broke into an unmistakable grin through the stubble. It was Katelyn and without that grin I would have never have recognised her.

"Hey Chris," she yelled out to me. "Long time no see."

Katlyn had bulked out, wore close cropped hair and had obviously had a breast reduction. She was wearing a men's plaid shirt over a white tee and jeans.

"Wow Katelyn, I didn't recognize you for a second. I never knew you came to rugby matches. Who is the little one?"

"It's Lisa. She plays Rugby. Hey Lisa, say hi to Chris. He is a very old friend of mine."

Lisa turned and giggled, eyeing Marie and Gaspard.

"This is Marie and Gaspard and this is their mum, Justine."

"Hi. Those are funny names," Lisa replied

Katelyn began to admonish Lias.

I cut in. "It's Ok, Those are very special french names." I responded.

Just then the rugby teams started to run onto the field. The roar went up, drowning out any chance of conversation. Then it was the national anthems. Silence finally came to respect the haka at the beginning of the game. Nobody was going to speak during that. Once that was over the roar went up and the contest began.

Somehow, we were consumed by the gladiators before us and Katelyn and I never reacquainted.

It was the last time I ever saw Katelyn but at least she looked happy. Far happier from when I last left her. And she looked totally relaxed and comfortable with her little family.

I think the last vestige of regret left me at that time. It looked to me that she had found her place. Lauren had been good for her. Justine would quiz me a little after the game but there was little to say, I had found my place too, and I was content with that.

*********