34

 

November – December 1884

Charlie Stewart was not waiting on Ruatane Wharf, but John was, nevertheless, accompanied by someone who couldn’t wait to see Amy again. As the Staffa pulled up to the wharf, Amy saw that a self-conscious looking John was holding Thomas tightly by the hand, despite the little boy’s energetic attempts to pull free. As soon as Amy had made her rather unsteady way down the gangplank, Thomas finally broke away from John and launched himself at her, winding his arms around her legs.

‘Amy, Amy!’ he squealed.

Amy knelt down and gave him a squeeze. ‘Hello, Tommy darling. Did you miss me?’

‘He heard me say yesterday I was coming in to pick you up,’ John said. ‘Then he started driving Susannah mad wanting to know when you’d get back, so she asked me to bring him in this afternoon. You’ve been a brat, haven’t you, Tom?’

‘Yes,’ Thomas said proudly.

John smiled at his little brother. ‘Nah, he hasn’t been bad, really. He gets on Susannah’s nerves, so Harry and me have been letting him hang around with us.’

‘I been milking,’ Thomas announced.

‘Well, you’ve been in the cow shed a couple of afternoons,’ John corrected. He surprised Amy by giving her a hug. ‘It’s good to see you again, Amy. Are you feeling better now?’

‘I’m getting there.’ Amy smiled at him.

‘She’s not very strong yet, but good food and fresh air will soon put her to rights,’ said Jack.

‘Pick me up, Amy,’ Thomas demanded.

‘Oh, I don’t think I can, Tommy. You’re too heavy for me.’

‘Pick me up. Please?’

‘I’ll carry you, boy.’ Jack hoisted Thomas onto his shoulders. ‘John, you carry our stuff. Take my arm, Amy.’

Amy leaned gratefully on her father. He helped her into the buggy, sat beside her and took up the reins. Thomas squeezed between them, leaving John to sit in the back seat with their bags.

Thomas clambered onto Amy’s lap and wound his arms around her neck. ‘You got a lap again!’ he said in delight.

Amy turned her face away to hide the sudden tears. ‘Yes, Tommy, my lap’s come back,’ she said quietly.

Harry saw them from the paddocks, and rushed to greet them as the buggy pulled up to the house. ‘I’m glad you’re home, Amy. You’re looking well.’

‘Thank you, Harry.’ But I haven’t been ill. I had a baby.

‘I was going to come in and pick you up, but I took the milk to the factory this morning, so John said he’d go.’

‘You always take the milk to the factory,’ John said, grinning.

‘Shut up,’ Harry muttered. Amy was puzzled to see a smug expression on his face. She turned to John with a questioning look, and while her father was distracted with lifting Thomas from his seat John leaned close to her.

‘Jane Neill’s staying with the Forsters again this summer,’ he murmured. ‘And the factory’s right next to their place. Harry gets himself invited over there every morning after he drops the milk off. Pa hasn’t noticed yet that Harry takes ages to get home.’

Harry carried their bags into the house while John took the buggy to its shed. Susannah was in the kitchen with George; she greeted Amy with a cool kiss on her cheek. Amy thought Susannah looked rather harassed, and her hair was not quite as neatly pinned as Amy remembered it. ‘Here you are at last. How are you, dear?’

‘I’m tired,’ Amy said, trying unsuccessfully to manage a smile. She saw George hiding behind the table and peeping out. ‘Georgie, don’t you have a kiss for me? You haven’t forgotten me, have you?’

‘You’ve been away nearly three months,’ Susannah said. ‘It’s a long time for a child his age. Don’t be silly, George, here’s your sister.’ She took hold of George’s arm and coaxed him away from the security of the table. He gave Amy a shy smile, then let her kiss him.

‘I hope you enjoyed your little holiday,’ Susannah said to Jack in a voice heavy with sarcasm.

‘Humph! If you call sitting on a boat a holiday. I’d sooner have stopped home and slept in my own bed.’

‘Well, you know I would have gone if you’d let—’

‘I know. I wanted the job done properly this time. Well, we’re home now, there’s no need to go on about it.’

Susannah gave him a cold look, but let the subject drop. ‘I expect you’ll both want to get changed. That dress looks a little odd with a sash, Amy—it’s very creased from travelling, too. I’ve dinner keeping warm.’

Amy changed out of the baggy woollen dress and into a cool cotton frock that hugged her newly-slim figure. She hurried back to the kitchen to find the family assembled at the table. Susannah produced generous platefuls of chops and vegetables, but when Amy tried to cut herself a slice of bread she found it too much of a challenge for her weak arms. She poked at the leaden bread dubiously.

‘I think this bread’s a bit stale—I’m having trouble cutting it.’

‘I made it fresh this morning,’ Susannah said, looking affronted. ‘Don’t you start complaining, everyone else does.’

‘Susannah’s still getting the hang of bread,’ said Jack. He pulled the bread towards himself and sawed off several slices, though not without obvious difficulty, then pushed the bread board back to the centre of the table. Amy took a slice, and found it was almost as much of a challenge to her teeth as it had been to her arm. ‘You fellows been getting on all right while I’ve been away?’ Jack asked. ‘No… trouble?’

‘No, no trouble at all,’ Susannah said hastily, but the black look she and Harry exchanged gave the lie to her assurance.

‘There was no breakfast the first morning,’ Harry said darkly.

‘Shut up, Harry,’ John put in, but Harry ignored him.

‘We had to do a bit of waking up. Had to just about break her door down with knocking.’

‘Harry said “lazy bitch”,’ Thomas volunteered eagerly.

Susannah’s hand snaked out and slapped him on the side of his head. ‘Don’t you ever let me hear you using a word like that again, Thomas,’ she scolded. ‘And don’t make such a fuss, either,’ she said over Thomas’s wail.

‘He did! He did say it!’ Thomas protested through his sobs.

‘There’s no need for you to copy your brother’s rough habits. Stop that crying. Do you want me to tell Papa all the naughty things you’ve been doing? He’ll give you a strapping if I do.’

‘No, don’t tell Papa,’ Thomas pleaded.

‘Why doesn’t she leave the kid alone,’ Harry muttered.

Susannah turned on him. ‘You stay out of it. Teaching my child filthy language!’

Harry glared at her. ‘It’s true. She is a lazy bitch,’ he said to the room at large.

‘Do you see the treatment I get?’ Susannah demanded of Jack. ‘And you left me alone with these two.’

‘Shut up, the lot of you,’ Jack growled. ‘Can’t I eat my dinner in peace? Harry, watch your language at the table.’

‘That’s rather weak, after what he said to me,’ Susannah complained.

‘You shouldn’t have slept in, should you? I told you not to. Stop bawling, Tom, Papa’s too tired to give anyone a hiding tonight. I don’t want to hear another word out of anyone till I’ve finished eating.’

Amy was relieved at the silence that followed. It was obvious that the family had been getting on about as badly as possible. At least her father’s presence would stop them from being too openly aggressive.

She rose to clear the dishes when the meal was over, but she had only picked up her own plate when Jack spoke.

‘Leave those, Amy. You can hardly keep your eyes open, you’d better get off to bed.’

‘I don’t mind doing the dishes, Pa.’

‘I said leave them,’ Jack said shortly. He stared at Susannah as if expecting her to argue, but she contented herself with a resentful look down the table at him.

It was blissful to sink into her own familiar bed with its soft sheets. Amy stroked the crocheted bedspread she and her grandmother had worked together, then she lay back enjoying the darkness. Her bedrooms in Auckland had never been completely dark; nor had the nights been as quiet as this one. She could hear the hooting of a morepork in the distance, and the occasional lowing of a wakeful cow, but there was no noise of carriages clattering or people shouting, and no distant hints of gaslight.

Amy woke to find the early morning sun streaming through her window, and realised she had forgotten to close the drapes. She looked around the room to reassure herself that she really was home, then dressed and went out to the kitchen. She was astonished to find Susannah already there, in her dressing-gown and with her hair loose.

‘Oh, I thought you’d still be asleep.’

‘I’m not allowed much sleep these days,’ Susannah grumbled. ‘I have to get up at the crack of dawn. I thought you’d sleep in this morning.’

‘I want to get strong again, and I won’t unless I do some work. I can make breakfast if you want to have a sleep.’

Susannah considered the idea, then shook her head. ‘No, I’m awake now. But I wouldn’t mind getting dressed if you’d carry on while I’m gone?’

‘All right.’

‘I’ll only be a minute.’ Susannah disappeared into the passage.

Amy found everything took her twice as long as she was used to. She had to make repeated trips to take the dishes to the table, now that she did not have the strength to carry many at once. Lifting the leg of bacon down from its hook left her out of breath. She was leaning on the bench trying to recover from the exertion when her father came in.

‘What are you doing, girl?’ he asked in amazement.

‘Getting breakfast on. I’m sorry, I’m a bit slow this morning, but it’ll be ready soon.’

Instead of answering, Jack strode to the passage door. ‘Susannah!’ he roared. ‘Get out here.’

‘I’ll be there in a minute,’ Susannah called back. ‘I’m just putting my hair up.’

‘You get your lazy backside here right now or I’ll haul you out by your bloody hair!’

There was a moment’s silence, then Susannah practically ran up the passage and into the kitchen. ‘What are you screaming at me like that for?’ she said indignantly, but Amy noticed that she stayed well out of Jack’s reach.

‘Pa, I was only helping Susannah,’ Amy tried to explain. ‘Susannah was up before me this morning, but I wanted—’

‘Listen to me, both of you,’ Jack interrupted. ‘Amy’s been ill, Susannah, you know she has. She’s still not right, anyone with a bit of sense could see that. And until she’s got her strength back I don’t want to see her doing any heavy work. That includes hefting great legs of bacon around the kitchen. You just take it easy, Amy, get back into things slowly. You understand me? Both of you?’

‘Yes, Pa.’

‘You mean I’ve got to carry on doing everything by myself?’ Susannah said.

‘That’s right. Until the girl’s properly well again, it’s up to you to look after things. Have you got any complaints to make about that?’

‘It wouldn’t do any good if I had, would it?’

‘No, it wouldn’t,’ Jack agreed.

After breakfast, Amy sat on the verandah with a book of poems in her lap. She tried to rouse some interest in the story of the Lady of Shalott, but the memory of her little, blanket-wrapped bundle kept intruding. She looked up from the book just in time to see Lizzie striding determinedly towards the kitchen door.

‘Lizzie, I’m here,’ Amy called. Lizzie changed direction to rush up to the verandah. She dropped onto the seat beside Amy and they embraced.

‘I’ve missed you,’ said Lizzie.

‘I’ve missed you, too. I wish I could have written to you, but I just couldn’t.’

‘I know.’ Lizzie studied her closely. ‘You look awful.’

Amy gave a little laugh. ‘I can rely on you not to spare my feelings, anyway. Everyone else keeps telling me how well I look.’

‘No, you’re really pale, and you’ve got thin. You haven’t been sleeping very well, have you?’

‘Not till last night,’ Amy admitted.

‘You’ve got horrible shadows under your eyes. Still,’ she said brightly, ‘you’ll come right now you’re home. Of course you look awful, you’ve been ill.’

‘Don’t say that,’ Amy said fiercely. ‘I’m sick of everyone saying I’ve been ill. I thought I could trust you not to pretend. I haven’t been ill. I had a baby. Do you hear me? I had a baby!’

‘Shh,’ Lizzie warned. ‘Someone will hear you.’

‘They all know. Even though everyone pretends she never happened. She did happen, Lizzie. Oh, I wish you could have seen her.’ Amy closed her eyes to see again that serious little face staring up at her, then opened them to look at Lizzie. ‘I had a little girl. The most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen. My little girl. So tiny, so perfect. She had dark hair, and big, blue eyes that looked as if they knew everything.’

‘Amy, you’re going to upset yourself, going on like that.’

Amy flashed an angry look at her cousin, and saw that Lizzie was reluctant to meet her eyes. ‘I’m embarrassing you, aren’t I? I’m sorry, I’ll stop. I just thought you’d let me talk about her. No one else will.’

‘I think it’s better if you don’t talk about it, Amy.’

‘All right, I won’t talk about her.’ They all want to pretend you never happened, Ann. They want me to forget about you. I’ll never forget you. ‘We’ll talk about whatever you want.’

What Lizzie seemed to want to talk about were the everyday things that had happened during Amy’s absence. Amy had soon been brought up-to-date on all the doings of the Waituhi Valley and Orere Beach, as well as much of Ruatane, from the opening of the new cheese factory down to the new ribbons on Martha Carr’s bonnet, which were in a shade of pink of which Lizzie did not approve. Lizzie had just launched into the life story of the valley school’s new teacher when Amy interrupted her.

‘You haven’t mentioned Frank much, Lizzie. Nothing’s wrong, is it?’

‘No, everything’s fine. There’s nothing new to tell, that’s all.’

‘Tell me old things, then. I want to hear about Frank. Have you set a date for your wedding yet?’

‘Sort of. Well, yes, we have really. We already knew it was going to be April, but I’ve decided to make it as near my birthday as possible. Pa said we had to wait till I’m eighteen, but I’m not going to wait any longer than I have to.’

‘And where are you going to have it? What about your dress?’

‘I don’t want to go on about all that stuff, Amy.’

‘Why not?’ Lizzie looked down at the ground and said nothing. ‘You’re scared of upsetting me, aren’t you? Scared you’ll remind me I’ve spoiled my chances of a flash wedding like you’re going to have? Don’t be. I want to hear about what you’re going to do, Lizzie. Don’t worry about me. I had my fun.’

‘Amy!’ Lizzie protested. ‘That’s an awful thing to say when you’re only sixteen.’

‘It’s true. You always used to be a great one for facing facts, don’t look so horrified when I do it.’

‘You’re still going to go through with it? Marrying Charlie?’

‘Of course I am. Lizzie, we’ve been over all this before and nothing’s changed. It’s the only way to make things right for everyone, so I won’t bring shame on them any more. Pa’s so pleased about it, he keeps talking about my “big day” coming up. I’ve said I’ll go through with it, and I’m not going to let him down. I’ve hurt him enough.’

‘You could still change your mind. Especially now you’re not… you know.’

‘Now I haven’t got my baby any more, you mean?’ Amy fought back tears with difficulty. ‘So it would look as though I’d lied and said I’d marry Charlie just so I’d have an excuse to get rid of her? As if I wanted to get rid of Ann. I gave her your name, you know. Ann Elizabeth, I called her. I suppose you don’t like having a bastard named after you.’

Lizzie was quiet for some time. ‘I have upset you, haven’t I?’ she said at last. ‘I didn’t mean to, Amy. I’m just not very good at talking about all this.’

‘I’m easily upset just now. It’s because I’m so tired.’

‘You’ll be better soon, when you feel well again.’

‘Yes, that’s right, Lizzie. I’ve been ill, haven’t I?’

 

*

 

When Amy woke the next morning, she fretted over whether she should go out to the kitchen to help with breakfast. She decided to wait in her room until she was sure Susannah would have things well under way. An hour after waking, she went out to find her stepmother half-heartedly punching at some bread dough.

‘Do you want me to do that?’ Amy asked.

‘Not if it means your father’s going to abuse me over it.’

‘I could do it sitting down. Pa wouldn’t go crook about that, I don’t think.’

‘Hmm, that’s not a bad idea. Everyone looks down their noses at my bread, anyway.’

‘You have to…’ Amy began, then thought better of telling Susannah that the bread should have a good fifteen minutes’ hard kneading, not the two or three slaps Susannah was obviously making do with. ‘What you put into bread is what you get out of it,’ her grandmother had always said. Even sitting down, working at the bread soon had Amy’s arms trembling with the unaccustomed strain. But the thought of bread that would not wear out her jaw was as appealing as the chance to be of some use.

‘Taking it easy, are you?’ Jack said when he came in and saw Amy sitting at the table. ‘That’s good.’ He ignored the glare Susannah turned on him.

Later that morning, after helping Susannah with some baking, Amy had just dusted the parlour and was trying to decide what other work was light enough for her to be allowed to do when Susannah came into the room. ‘You’ve a visitor,’ she said brightly. She ushered Charlie Stewart through the doorway. ‘Now, why don’t you take your fiancé out to the verandah, and I’ll bring some tea and biscuits out to you. Take your apron off, dear.’

Amy stared dumbly at the stern figure before her. Susannah had to give her a small shove before she responded. ‘Yes, come out here,’ she said, pulling her apron off and handing it to the waiting Susannah. She led the way through the parlour door and onto the verandah.

Charlie sat down and Amy took the chair opposite him, from where she studied the floorboards rather than meet his eyes. ‘I thought I’d come and see how you are,’ Charlie said after an awkward silence.

‘That was nice of you. Thank you, Mr Stewart.’ Amy forced herself to raise her gaze to meet his. He was staring at her in a way that she found disturbing. It reminded her just a little of how Jimmy had looked at her.

‘You’d best be calling me by my name,’ Charlie said. ‘ “Mr Stewart” will sound foolish from my wife.’

His wife. ‘I’ll try. It might take me a while to get used to doing that.’

‘Your pa says you’re not too well yet.’

‘I got really worn out in Auckland. I’m getting better now I’m home.’

‘Good. You’ve not got much colour in your cheeks.’

‘I’ve been inside so much, out of the fresh air.’

‘Here we are,’ Susannah said, bustling out with a tray. ‘I’ll leave you in peace to have a chat. Now, you must try some of these biscuits, Mr Stewart. Amy made them herself. She’s a very good cook.’

Charlie did not comment on the biscuits, but he managed to demolish most of them without any apparent difficulty. ‘You don’t eat much,’ he said, looking at Amy’s empty plate.

‘I’m not doing much work just now, so I don’t get very hungry.’

‘That’s fair enough.’ He looked hard at her. ‘You’re getting better, you say?’

‘Yes, I’ll be quite well again soon.’

‘Good.’ He finished his tea and stood up. ‘Well, I’ll be on my way.’

‘Goodbye, Mr Stewart.’ Charlie turned and looked at her. ‘I’m sorry, I mean Charlie.’

‘Goodbye.’

That wasn’t too bad. He was quite nice, really. Well, he wasn’t horrible, anyway. Amy tried to ignore the way she was shaking with relief at being alone again.