A Second Chance (14 page)

A generous supper had been set out on a
table against one wall. In the centre of the table was an elaborate
floral arrangement, surrounded by bowls of fruit that seemed
intended more for decoration than consumption. Spread around them
were plates of dainty sandwiches, sliced meats, and pieces of fish,
as well as meringues, fancy pastries, and half a dozen kinds of
cakes and biscuits. The musicians stood awkwardly for a moment
after Mr Vincent had put his violin in its case and they had tidied
away their music, but Sarah gathered them up and led them to the
supper table, where the guests were already serving themselves.

There seemed to be nothing to drink but
wine. Amy took a glass so as not to stand out, but did no more than
moisten her lips with it. People began moving to sit down; Sarah
slipped her arm through Amy’s and led her to a sofa to sit by
Emily, while Sarah took a chair opposite them.

The seats made a rough semi-circle, with
some placed closer together than others, designed to encourage
conversation among the whole group while also allowing two or three
people to talk quietly together. Emily beckoned Miss Farrell to a
chair on Amy’s other side, and Mr Vincent took the last free seat,
which happened to be next to Miss Farrell’s.

Emily leaned towards Miss Farrell and asked
her opinion of how the concert had gone, managing to imply a
certain nervousness on her own part over whether she had done the
compositions justice. Miss Farrell, her eyes noticeably brighter,
assured her that the songs had been much improved by Emily’s
performance of them. Martin engaged Mr Vincent and Mr Lewis in
conversation, though Mr Vincent seemed too awed to contribute more
than a word or two. Sarah shifted her attention from group to
group, adding a few words wherever discussion seemed on the point
of lagging, and encouraging return visits to the supper table by
anyone who cast a glance in its direction.

‘I must thank you, Miss Farrell, and you, Mr
Vincent, for your fine performances this evening,’ Mr Lewis said,
nodding to each of the musicians in turn. ‘I can assure you that
such music would be well-received in any drawing room I’ve had the
honour to visit in London.’

Miss Farrell gave her thanks, accompanied by
much nervous fluttering of her hands, while Mr Vincent seemed to
have lost the power of speech.

‘Do you find Auckland society very different
from that you were accustomed to at Home, Mr Lewis?’ Sarah
asked.

‘Well, I arrived rather too recently to have
a well-informed opinion on the subject. Of course I’ve been made
aware that one can meet with many cultivated people here in the
Colony, and there are opportunities to discuss music and books and
the like. I must say I’m relieved not to encounter suffragettes, be
it in drawing rooms or on the streets,’ he added with a smile.
‘There have been some unpleasant episodes at Home.’

‘We’ve no need for suffragettes here,’ said
Martin. ‘Our ladies gained the vote some time ago.’

‘And we value it highly,’ Sarah said. ‘I
took great pleasure in casting my vote for the first time last
year. I’m sure you vote, Amy?’

It took an effort for Amy to speak to the
room at large, but there were only friendly, interested faces
turned to her. ‘Yes, I do. I voted the very first time women were
allowed to.’ She smiled at the memory of how she had managed that
feat, after Charlie had at first so firmly refused his
permission.

‘I was
so
annoyed that I couldn’t
last year,’ Emily said, pulling a face. ‘It seemed so unfair—I
turned twenty-one just after the election.’

‘Your politicians are obviously very
forward-thinking men, to be so much ahead of ours in England,’ said
Mr Lewis. ‘I’ve been told Mr Seddon takes great pride in the
progress that’s been made under his leadership. I understand that
the ladies gained the vote without any great difficulty?’

He addressed no one in particular, but Amy
was aware of several pairs of eyes on her as the person likely to
have the best memory of those days. Sarah was smiling
encouragingly; Amy met her eyes for a moment to boost her courage,
then turned her attention to Mr Lewis.

‘I wouldn’t want to say anything against Mr
Seddon,’ she said, choosing her words with care. ‘I know he’s done
a lot—and he’s getting quite old now, I don’t think his health’s
what it was. But I followed it all in the paper, back when they
were trying to get it through the Parliament, and… well, Mr Seddon
wasn’t very keen on women getting the vote. It was the other men,
really, like Mr Ballance and Mr Stout, who wanted it to go
through.’

It felt a long speech to have made in front
of people she had just met, but Sarah beamed her approval, and the
other guests looked impressed.

‘Mrs Stewart’s quite right,’ said Martin.
‘My uncle was in the House at the time—I’m happy to report he
supported the cause himself—and I’ve often heard him say similar
things. According to him, there were remarks made behind closed
doors by certain Members that were less than flattering to the
ladies in question.’

‘How very interesting,’ said Mr Lewis.
‘Well, no doubt England will catch up with its offspring
eventually. There’s been talk of perhaps allowing married women the
vote—they’re already permitted to vote in local elections.’

‘That’s because they think married women
will vote the way their husbands tell them to,’ Amy said,
emboldened by the respect with which her opinion had been
received.

‘I do look forward to having you tell me how
to vote next time, dear,’ Emily told Martin, her eyes
twinkling.

‘I rather get the impression that colonial
ladies have no difficulty forming their own opinions,’ Mr Lewis
said.

‘We certainly don’t,’ said Sarah. ‘We even
have the audacity to believe our opinions can be as sound as those
of men.’ There was a hint of steel in the smile with which she
delivered her words.

‘I can quite believe it.’ Mr Lewis’ own
smile, while perfectly polite, suggested a certain wariness.

Discussion turned to such innocuous subjects
as the weather, and Mr Lewis asked Martin about his work at the
Customs Department. The evening was wearing on, and Amy had to make
an effort not to show any sign of the sleepiness creeping up on
her. She was content to be an interested observer as conversation
flowed around her, contributing only an occasional few words when
politeness required it.

After sitting in complete silence for so
long that the very air seemed heavier in their corner of the room,
Miss Farrell and Mr Vincent had at last begun conversing together.
It had started as no more than a few polite remarks on each other’s
performance, but as Amy sat and listened she noticed that they were
becoming more animated. She heard words like “modulate” and “first
inversion”, and decided that they must be speaking of music in a
language that, while it appeared on the surface to be English, was
all but incomprehensible. As far as Amy could tell, Miss Farrell
was describing a musical sequence that was giving her difficulty in
a composition she was developing; it made no sense at all to Amy,
and she turned her attention to conversations elsewhere in the
room.

To her embarrassment, she realised that she
would need to use the lavatory. She chose a moment when no one
seemed to be looking in her direction, got up as quietly as she
could, and slipped from the room.

When she returned, she found that the
musicians had taken their discussion over to the piano. Miss
Farrell was seated at the keyboard, quietly trying out different
combinations of notes, while Mr Vincent stood close to her, leaning
forward slightly to catch the sound. As Amy watched, Miss Farrell
tried a sequence that clearly pleased her, then looked up at Mr
Vincent, her eyes bright. ‘That’s just right,’ she said, bestowing
a warm smile on him. ‘Thank you so much for suggesting it—I was
quite at a loss how to finish that phrase.’

‘I was only building on what you do so
cleverly in the first few bars,’ Mr Vincent said. Amy noticed what
a pleasant voice he had when it was not shaking with nerves.

Emily had moved to sit with Sarah, and they
were talking quietly. Amy saw Emily glance in the direction of the
piano and smile at what she saw there. Emily placed her hand on
Sarah’s arm, and indicated the two musicians with a flick of her
head. Sarah followed her direction, then turned to Emily and raised
her eyebrows in mock exasperation.

Tea was brought in; this seemed to be a
signal that the soirée was nearing its end. Mr Lewis took his leave
soon after finishing his second cup, thanking Sarah with what
seemed genuine appreciation. Emily and Martin went soon afterwards;
they insisted on taking Miss Farrell, whose boarding house was only
a little out of their way, in their carriage. Mr Vincent left
immediately after them, staying only long enough to thank Sarah
profusely, barely allowing her a moment to thank him in her turn
for his performance.

Late though it was by the time their guests
had all gone, Amy and Sarah lingered over cups of warm milk in
Sarah’s room, talking over the events of the evening.

‘I kept the guest list short tonight,’ Sarah
said. ‘I didn’t want to overwhelm you at your first soirée.’

‘Everyone was very nice—and the music was
lovely.’

‘Yes, Mr Vincent played a good deal better
than I feared he might, from the state he was in when he got here.
He seemed to come into his own once he was playing. Of course
neither he nor Miss Farrell would be able to perform at all if they
couldn’t control their nerves.’

‘It seems a hard way to try and make a
living,’ said Amy. ‘Just hoping people will get you to play at
their houses.’

‘I wouldn’t say either of them shows signs
of living particularly well. But I’ll do what I can to make the
evening worth their while. I’ll pay them for their performances, of
course, but what’s probably worth more to them is the attention
they’ll receive. I’ll see that an appropriate item appears in the
newspaper. “A most pleasant evening was had at the home of Miss
Sarah Millish lately. Musical performances by Miss Jean Farrell and
Mr Alfred Vincent gave much enjoyment to those present, who
included”, etcetera, etcetera. That should help them become better
known around Auckland. I suspect Emily will take Miss Farrell under
her wing, too.’

‘I liked Emily very much,’ said Amy. ‘She
was so easy to talk to. I felt as if I’d known her for ages.’

‘I thought you’d like her. She and I got on
well at school—Emily always seemed to have more sense than most of
the other girls. Of course then she would go falling in love, but I
must say she could have done a good deal worse than Martin. Miss
Farrell’s songs were rather too sentimental for my taste, but Emily
liked them—and she certainly sang them beautifully. She’ll praise
them to everyone she knows, and that should help Miss Farrell sell
her work.’

‘I’d never heard of a lady composer before.
I hope it turns out all right for her. And for Mr Vincent, too—I
thought he looked quite thin.’

‘I doubt if he’s actually starving, but that
suit he was wearing verged on the threadbare. Of course a man
living on his own mightn’t notice such things. Emily says he needs
a wife.’ Sarah rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve no doubt she’ll be offering
subtle guidance to Miss Farrell in that direction—I’m sure you
noticed her interest in the two of them this evening? Emily’s been
like that ever since she got married, thinking it’s the answer to
any problem.’

Amy nodded. ‘Yes, I saw her looking at them
when she was talking to you.’ She took a sip of her milk, and held
the mug between her hands, enjoying the warmth. ‘Mr Lewis was nice.
He must be very clever, too, to be a teacher at the university. Did
you like him?’

‘He was pleasant enough. I’d been introduced
to him before, of course, but tonight was the first time I’d had
any real conversation with him. There’s a little too much of the
sophisticated gentleman condescending to visit the land of
Britain’s uncultured offspring about him, but he’ll get over that,
and be the better for it. I think he was rather startled at how
well-informed we colonial ladies are.’ She smiled at Amy. ‘You
certainly helped our cause there.’

‘It was nice to meet people who’re
interested in talking about things like that. So do you think
you’ll have Mr Lewis around again?’

‘Quite possibly. He seemed to mix well
enough. Why do you ask?’ Sarah’s eyes narrowed. ‘Amy, are you
trying your hand at matchmaking? Because if you are, it’s to stop
at once. Emily’s bad enough without you joining in.’

‘I wasn’t really. He just seemed like
someone who might suit you. I mean, he’s clever, and polite, and
interested in some of the same things as you.’

‘And no doubt expects to run a household as
he does a classroom, with him at the head, giving instructions to
an admiring wife. I wouldn’t suit him, and he certainly wouldn’t
suit me. Can we agree that there’ll be no more talk of such
things?’ Sarah’s mouth curved into a mischievous smile. ‘You’d best
watch yourself, Amy, or you might find you’re on the receiving end.
“Have you met that pretty little widow who’s staying with Sarah
Millish? She’s still rather young, you know. She’d be quite a
catch.” I’m sure there’d be plenty of men capable of appreciating
your fine qualities if they were noised abroad.’

‘Don’t tease, Sarah,’ Amy said, smiling in
her turn. ‘I know you don’t mean it. Anyway, I wouldn’t marry again
whoever asked me.’

‘I should think not! And I’ve no desire to
try the experiment even once.’

‘You might change your mind later. When I
was young, I didn’t think I wanted to get married, either. I was a
lot younger than you are, though—I’d had four babies by the time I
was your age.’

Sarah shuddered. ‘I don’t think I’ll change
my mind. I’m quite set in my ways, and comfortably so.’ She
frowned, puzzled. ‘Are you really so eager to recommend marriage?
Forgive me, I know you don’t like to hear me speak ill of that man,
but I would have thought your own experience had done little to
endear you to the state.’