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people. Luckily, we’vemanaged with the vegetables we grow, the cow and
     chickens, and your father catching fish for us. Otherwise, we might be starving
     too.’
    Mariette did start to notice things
     after that. No one could afford to have a new dress or a hat made, and so her mother
     and Mog weren’t earning any money. She became aware that they both ate like
     birds so that she and her brothers could have more food. At night they would only
     light one lamp, old dresses were taken apart and made into something else, and both
     she and her brothers were expected to go down to the shore every day to pick up
     driftwood for the fire.
    Her father spoke out in disgust about
     the relief camps that were supposed to help men feed their families. But in order to
     qualify for the pitifully small amount of relief money, they had to go to labour
     camps miles away from their homes. There they built roads with only a pick and
     shovel, cleared undergrowth, dug ditches or carried out hard, soul-destroying and
     often pointless work. They lived in tents with dirt floors, and the food they
     received was barely fit to give a dog.
    She also learned that many children in
     the cities were dressed in rags, without shoes, and that babies were dying because
     there was no milk for them.
    Tens of thousands had lost their jobs,
     shops and factories had closed down, and farmers were facing ruin. For many people
     the soup kitchen was the only thing that kept them from dying of starvation.
    Her family clustered around the wireless
     at night to hear ‘Uncle Scrim’, just as people all over New Zealand did,
     but along with the shared laughter they heard reports of hunger marches in England
     and even riots in Wellington and other cities in New Zealand.
    Thankfully, things had begun to improve
     in the last year. Men were leaving the relief camps and going home, factorieswere opening again, and the banks were
     becoming more lenient with the farmers. There was even free milk for all
     schoolchildren. Yet the only work Mariette could find was helping her mother and Mog
     with their dressmaking and millinery. She wanted something of her own choosing, but
     there just wasn’t anything else in Russell.
    She dried her eyes as she reached the
     small group of shacks at the bottom of the hill, because she knew all the Maoris who
     lived in them and certainly didn’t want anyone seeing her in tears. As she
     passed the Komekes’ house, Anahera, the younger sister of her friend Matui,
     waved to her. She was only fifteen, and heavily pregnant. Mog had commented recently
     how another mouth to feed in that family was the last thing they needed.
    The sight of Anahera’s swollen
     belly brought Mariette up sharply. What if she herself was pregnant?
    She didn’t know why she
     hadn’t considered the possibility before – after all, she’d had the
     whole baby thing explained properly to her at the age of twelve. So she didn’t
     have the excuse of ignorance as, perhaps, Anahera had.
    Fear clutched at her heart and made her
     feel nauseous. It was bad enough that she’d allowed herself to be used by Sam,
     without the thought of carrying his baby too.
    Her parents and Mog were generally
     lenient, understanding people. Mariette couldn’t count the number of times
     they had stood by people who had shocked their more narrow-minded neighbours. They
     never sat in judgement on anyone, and they were the first to offer help to anyone in
     need.
    But she couldn’t hope for
     understanding about her becoming pregnant by a rough man she didn’t even
     love.
    Mog knew something was wrong the moment
     Mariette came in. Her eyes, so much like Belle’s, had a fearful glint in them;she looked edgy, as if she was
     expecting to be caught out about something. When Mog asked what was wrong, Mariette
     said she was afraid of being late getting home to finish the wedding dress.
    Mog’s active sixth sense told her
     there was a great deal more to it than