A Second Chance (54 page)

She saw David’s brow furrow. ‘So Mal… was
that Mal?’ he asked, getting the words out with obvious
difficulty.

Amy shook her head. ‘No, Mal was your
father’s son. No, he said he wanted to marry me, but he didn’t want
the baby, not when it wasn’t his. And I didn’t know… you can’t know
what it’ll feel like to have your own baby. Not till you see it
there in your arms.’

‘That’s right,’ Beth whispered.

‘So the grownups talked about it among
themselves, and I just went along with what they decided. Aunt
Susannah organised it all. She took me up to Auckland, and I stayed
there till the baby was born. I had a little girl. The prettiest
little girl you’ve ever seen—as pretty as Daisy.’

Again she had to pause for some time before
she could bring herself to go on. Beth was leaning forward,
listening avidly, while David still looked dazed.

‘I was allowed to keep her till she was
nearly three weeks old. Then I woke up one day and she was gone.
The nurses had taken her away while I was asleep, and she’d been
sent off to be adopted. They told me she was going to have a new
mother. A good mother, not a bad girl like me.’

Beth rose from the sofa and took a step
towards the bedroom all in one movement, as if afraid Daisy might
have been spirited away from under her nose. She turned and stared
at Amy, her mouth an O of horror. ‘They took your baby?’ she
breathed. ‘How could you bear it, Aunt Amy?’

Amy spread out her hands in a gesture of
helplessness. ‘I don’t know. It was like having my heart torn out.
I felt as if I wanted to die. But I found out you don’t die just
from wanting to. You just carry on, because you have to.’

‘But it wasn’t
fair
.’ Tears were
streaming unchecked down Beth’s face. She crossed the room and sank
to the floor, resting her head on Amy’s lap. Amy stroked her hair,
then retrieved a clean handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at
Beth’s cheeks.

Beth raised her head, sniffed, and reached
out a hand to David. ‘Come here, Davie.’ When he did not
immediately respond, she took hold of his hand and tugged at it
until he came and sat on the floor at her side.

Amy looked from one upturned face to the
other, Beth’s eyes still brimming with tears and David’s expression
unreadable. ‘I came back home, and I got married. Mal was born the
year after my little girl, then you came along, Davie. I tried to
make the best of things—and there were good things, as well as the
hard ones. Especially you—and Mal, of course,’ she added belatedly.
‘But not a day went by when I didn’t think about her, and wonder
what was happening to her, and if she was happy.’

‘Of course you did,’ Beth murmured. She
placed her hand over Amy’s and squeezed it.

‘And then last year the most wonderful thing
happened.’ Amy felt her heart lift as she recalled that day. ‘She
found me again. She sat here in this very room—just where you two
are sitting—and she told me she was my daughter. My little girl,
come back to me after all those years.’ She closed her eyes for a
moment to savour the memory, then opened them to meet David’s.
‘It’s Sarah, Davie. She’s your sister.’

Beth had her hand up to her mouth, while
David’s was hanging open in astonishment. ‘Sister?’ he echoed.
‘I’ve got a sister?’

‘Yes, you have.’

It was done now. She had offered up her
secret, and it was in David’s hands how he chose to judge her. Amy
felt a sudden weariness, and an overwhelming need to be alone. She
freed her hand from Beth’s grasp and stood up. ‘I’m going to bed
now.’

Beth rose, took hold of Amy’s arm and walked
with her to the door, so solicitous that Amy realised she meant to
put her to bed. ‘I’m all right, Beth. You stay here and talk to
Dave.’ She was sure they would be discussing what she had told them
well into the night.

She hovered in the doorway, hoping to catch
David’s eye. He was staring down at the floor, but as she watched
he lifted his gaze and met hers.

‘That’s why Pa used to talk how he did,
isn’t it?’ he said slowly. ‘Calling you names and all that.’

‘He stopped doing that in the end. But yes,
that’s why. He knew before he asked to marry me what had happened,
but… well, it was hard for him.’

David nodded. Amy stood and waited,
wondering if he would speak again.

‘He… he shouldn’t have said those things,’
David said at last. ‘He shouldn’t have talked to you like that.
And… and I’m glad about Sarah and everything,’ he finished in a
rush.

Relief flooded through her. ‘Thank you,
Davie. That means a lot to me.’

It was now a settled thing that Amy would go
to Auckland, but there seemed any number of reasons that she should
be in no hurry to do so. Beth and David wanted her to be there when
the first Jersey calves were born on the farm; something they were
a good deal more excited about than she was.

‘And you should stay for Davie’s birthday,’
Beth urged. ‘Twenty’s quite a big one.’

Amy drew the line when they suggested she
wait until the new house was completed; at the current rate of
progress, she was not convinced that would happen before the end of
the year. But she let herself be persuaded to wait till after
David’s birthday. That was less than two months away; it would be
easy enough to wait those few more weeks. In the meantime she and
Sarah were exchanging letters more frequently than ever. Amy could
tell that Sarah was looking forward to the imminent move with as
keen anticipation as she herself was.

Amy was quietly relieved when David added
his own urging to Beth’s. In the first days after her revelation he
had been a little subdued, and there was still sometimes an
awkwardness in his manner towards her, but she could now allow
herself to believe he still cared for her. She felt a weight had
been lifted now that David knew her secret.

Her move to Auckland was never far from her
mind. She was thinking about it one afternoon, enjoying the thought
of seeing Sarah again and imagining the long talks they would have,
catching up on the things that had happened to them both in the
months they had been apart, and which had not made their way into
letters. Beth was out on the farm with David, having taken Daisy
with her, so Amy had the kitchen to herself. As well as scones and
biscuits, she had made a small batch of the fudge that had always
been a favourite treat for her boys.

She moved about the kitchen, clearing up
after her baking, the room and the tasks so familiar that her mind
was left free to wander. So caught up was she in her thoughts that
the knock on the door took her by surprise. She had not heard the
sound of hooves or wheels, and when family members visited they did
not wait to have the door opened for them.

She peeped out the window, but there was no
sign of a horse; her visitors must have arrived on foot. Wondering
who it could possibly be, Amy opened the door…

…and clutched unsteadily at the doorpost for
support. For Malcolm was dead and buried half a world away. How
could he be standing there on the bottom step, scowling at her in
the way she remembered so well? But not the sixteen-year-old
Malcolm she had seen riding away on that fateful night; this was
Malcolm as a little boy, before he had even started school.

For the first time, she became aware that a
young woman was standing beside the red-headed child, holding his
hand firmly as if afraid he might run off. ‘What… who…’ Amy began,
then trailed off, unable to find words.

The young woman’s face softened in evident
relief. ‘He’s like him, isn’t he?’ she said eagerly. ‘He’s just
like his dad.’

‘His dad?’ Amy echoed. She gave her head a
small shake. ‘You’d better come in,’ she said, opening the door
more widely.

‘Come on, Eddie,’ the woman coaxed. The
child gave Amy a dubious look, then allowed himself to be led up
the steps and into the kitchen. Just inside the door he came to a
sudden stop. ‘No,’ he said, thrusting out his lower lip in a deeper
scowl, and looking more like Malcolm than ever. ‘I don’t like it
here.’

‘Please, Eddie,’ the woman pleaded. ‘Be a
good boy for Mama—you said you’d be good.’

With an effort, Amy took her eyes from the
small boy to his mother. She looked to be in her mid-twenties, with
brown hair and a broad face, wind-reddened after the long trek she
must have had. The hand that was not clutching Eddie’s carried a
shapeless bundle tied with a length of rope. Her boots and the hem
of her dress were caked in mud, her hair was escaping from its
pins, and she looked close to exhaustion.

Eddie held his ground stubbornly. With a
flash of inspiration, Amy darted to one of her cake tins and
returned with a slab of fudge on a plate.

‘I bet you like fudge, don’t you, Eddie,’
she said, holding out the plate so he could see what was on it.
‘Come and sit at the table to eat it, then Mama can sit down and
have a rest.’

He looked at her doubtfully, but the fudge
won him over. He allowed his mother to lead him to the table, sat
down, and took a large bite.

The young woman sank into a chair at his
side, letting her bundle drop to the floor. ‘It’s a long way out
here. And I had to carry Eddie on the last bit, he said his feet
were hurting. He’s been growing that fast, he probably needs new
boots again.’

Amy took her own seat and stared at the two
of them. ‘Is this… is he really…’ She hardly dared ask the
question, for fear the answer might be “no”.

‘He’s Mal’s son,’ the woman said, and Amy’s
heart leapt. ‘Thank God he looks like him—they wouldn’t let me put
Mal’s name on his birth certificate.’

‘But how—I’m sorry, I don’t even know your
name,’ said Amy.

‘I’m Milly Dobson. I know you’re Mal’s ma, I
used to see you in town sometimes when me and my ma lived
here.’

‘And you and Mal…’ Amy looked at Eddie, but
his attention was completely devoted to the fudge. ‘I didn’t… he
never…’ She shook her head helplessly.

‘We went around together, right up to when
Mal went off to the war. Me and Ma lived in Elliot Street, around
behind the carpenter’s yard. Mal and his mates used to hang around
there at nights, drinking and stuff, and some of them’d race their
horses and jump the fence, things like that. I’d go out there when
Ma was asleep and watch them, and give them cheek if they saw me.
Then I started hanging around with them.’

‘I knew Mal sneaked into town some nights,
but I never knew there were girls there,’ Amy said, still finding
it difficult to think straight.

‘I was the only one,’ Milly said, a mixture
of defiance and pride in her voice. ‘I went with a couple of the
other blokes before Mal—Eddie’s Mal’s, though,’ she added
quickly.

‘I can see that,’ Amy said, careful to keep
any disapproval out of her voice. This young woman was the mother
of Malcolm’s child; that covered a multitude of sins. ‘It’s written
all over his face.’

Eddie finished off the fudge, slid from his
chair and climbed onto his mother’s lap, from where he watched
Amy

‘I couldn’t put Mal down as his father,
’cause we weren’t married, but I put it in his name. He’s Edmund
Malcolm—Edmund after a little brother I had, he died when he was
only two or three. And Malcolm for his dad. They couldn’t stop me
giving him his dad’s name.’ Milly stroked Eddie’s hair.

‘They were a rough lot, most of those
blokes,’ she said, pulling a face. ‘I didn’t like them much.
Especially that Liam Feenan—he tried to get me to go with him once,
but I just wouldn’t. Mal was the pick of them,’ she said
proudly.

It seemed to Amy a dubious honour to be
considered the best among a group led by Liam Feenan, but she kept
that thought to herself.

‘Was Mal really eighteen?’ Milly asked.

‘Eighteen? No, he was only sixteen when he…
when he passed away.’

‘I thought as much. He told me he was
eighteen—that’s just because I was eighteen, I reckon. He didn’t
want to let on that he was younger than me.’ Milly gave a
conspiratorial grin. ‘He told me he’d been with girls before, too,
but I could tell he hadn’t. I just about had to tell him where to
put the thing the first time we did it.’

There was no denying it: Milly was not a
girl Amy would have chosen to have in her house, let alone as
someone who might have been her daughter-in-law.

‘He was like a big kid, Mal was,’ Milly
said, smiling fondly. ‘He wasn’t like the other blokes. He was sort
of wild, you know? Never scared of anything. When he was riding
that horse of his he’d have a go at jumping anything—if he fell off
he’d just laugh, and if he made it he’d be that excited. He put his
whole self into things. He was the same between the sheets,’ she
added smugly. ‘He never held back there, either.’

Amy winced. She searched for a polite way of
suggesting to Milly that this was not an appropriate subject of
conversation, but nothing came to mind that would not sound like
condemnation. ‘Mal was always very good with horses,’ she said, her
voice sounding prim in her own ears.

‘That’s my dad’s name, Mal is,’ Eddie put
in. ‘He could ride a big horse.’

‘That’s right, Eddie,’ Amy said, settling
gratefully on the distraction.

‘He was the best rider in the whole world,’
Eddie said.

Amy smiled. ‘Well, I don’t know about that.
But yes, he was very good. He won a special race once, and there
were much bigger boys than him in it.’

Eddie was staring avidly at her. It was
clear that Milly had made his father a hero to him. When Amy
glanced from Eddie to Milly, she saw the same eager expression in
Milly’s brown eyes that was lighting up Eddie’s blue ones. Whatever
Milly might lack in social graces, there was no doubting she had
genuinely cared for Malcolm.

Amy heard voices outside the door, and it
opened to admit David and Beth, with Daisy in David’s arms. David
and Beth seemed to have been in the middle of an animated
conversation, but they fell silent at the unusual sight of
strangers in the house. David nodded politely to Milly, turned to
Eddie and blinked in surprise.