This individual, Lachlan, seems to be mentioned in everyone’s journals eventually. Yes, he is key . . .
From the first week of settling in, I had dived into restoring the musty, abandoned family home. My Nandy helped when he could, but was growing tired. Either from old age or melancholy it did not matter, Nandy Cameron had earned the right to rest. Suffering from an abundance of youthful energy, I worked tirelessly. It warmed my Nandy’s heart to see his grandson alive with purpose.
While in Dutch Cape Town, Nandy felt he was ever so slowly losing me. Troubling dreams and night sweats had increased in frequency, and these bouts of insomnia had begun to affect my grades at school.
Some ethereal force was summoning me to return to Aotearoa, “Land of the Long White Cloud,” a magical New Zealand.
When I had confronted my Nandy, after a morbid nightmare, about returning home there was no resistance. Without hesitation we Thorpe men packed our lives in boxes and headed for our homeland. I had my first week of solid sleep on Kiwi soil in the heart of tranquil Kaikoura.