Authors: Shayne Parkinson
Tags: #romance, #historical fiction, #family, #new zealand, #farming, #edwardian, #farm life
‘But I just had one on Saturday,’ he
protested.
‘We have baths more often at Aunt Sarah’s.
You’ll have to put on your good clothes for dinner, too. No, it’s
no good making a fuss about it, Eddie, you just have to.’
Eddie grumbled half-heartedly, but he was
somewhat mollified by the sight of the huge bath. He splashed away
enthusiastically, getting a good deal of water on the floor and on
Amy. Even the mouthful of soapy water he got when he decided to
talk just as she was emptying a jug over his head led to hiccuping
laughs rather than complaints.
Amy persuaded Eddie to leave the bath by the
simple expedient of pulling out the plug. ‘So, do you like Aunt
Sarah?’ she asked as she dried him off.
‘She’s a bit bossy,’ Eddie said in a
measuring tone. ‘But she’s nice, too. Yes, I like her.’
‘Good,’ said Amy. ‘I think she likes you,
too.’
*
After a fine dinner, Amy was feeling the
first signs of drowsiness, but Eddie still looked bright-eyed and
alert.
‘It’s just about Eddie’s bedtime, but I’ll
keep him up a little while longer,’ she told Sarah. ‘He’s had such
a lot of excitement today, I don’t think he’d settle yet.’
The three of them went through to the
drawing room, where tea had been set for Amy and Sarah, and warm
milk for Eddie. Amy was on the point of suggesting that Eddie go
and fetch the book Sarah had sent him for Christmas, when Sarah
called the little boy over to her. Beside her stood a low table,
with a wooden box resting on it.
‘I’ve something you might like to play
with,’ Sarah said. ‘But you must be very careful—they’re quite old,
and they’re… well, they’re rather special.’
She raised the lid of the box. Eddie peered
in, reached in a hand and pulled out a brightly-painted lead
soldier, mounted on a rearing horse. ‘What are they?’ he asked,
turning the toy round and round in his hand and gazing at it in
wonder.
‘Soldiers and horses—you’ll find a cannon or
two in there, too. You can line them up and… I don’t know, pretend
to have a battle, I suppose. Whatever you like, as long as it
doesn’t involve breaking anything.’
‘They could be in a
story
,’ Eddie
breathed, pulling out another figure with elaborate care.
‘I’m sure they could.’ Sarah took her seat
beside Amy, where the two of them watched Eddie as he lifted the
toys out one by one.
Amy tore her gaze from the pleasant sight of
Eddie so happily occupied. ‘Sarah, are you sure it’s all right for
him to play with those?’ she asked, keeping her voice low so Eddie
would not hear. ‘You told me your… your father,’ she said, the word
coming out only after an awkward hesitation, ‘didn’t want them
disturbed.’
‘It’s perfectly all right. Father wanted to
keep them as Maurice had left them, as something for him to
remember Maurice by. But I don’t think he would have wanted them
treated like sacred objects for all time, as if Maurice had been
some sort of saint. Father was a sensible man. I’d like to think
he’d have been pleased to know another little boy was enjoying the
soldiers. Especially when the little boy concerned is my
nephew.’
Eddie played with the toys for almost an
hour, devising a complicated series of stories that began with a
battle (he announced that a rather splendid general mounted on the
largest of the horses represented Eddie’s own father), but soon
owed more to his favourite fairytales. He persuaded Sarah to allow
a brass vase to be used as a castle, while one of the more
diminutive soldiers had a scrap of lace wrapped around him and was
pressed into service as a princess (naturally called Daisy) who
needed rescuing from a monster in the guise of a paperweight.
He provided his own commentary to the tales,
though quietly enough not to disturb Amy and Sarah’s conversation.
Occasional glances told Amy that he was content to entertain
himself; they also alerted her when Eddie began to show signs of
sleepiness. His speech grew slower and his eyelids drooped. Not
long afterwards he came over to the sofa where Amy was sitting and
plumped himself down. She slipped her arm around him and he
snuggled in against her. It was only a minute or two before he was
sprawled with his head in her lap, fast asleep.
‘Are they all like that?’ Sarah asked.
‘Small children, I mean—running around as if they don’t know what
it means to be tired, then falling asleep all in a moment?’
Amy stroked Eddie’s hair. She had combed it
while it was still damp from the bath, and for a brief period it
had been looking almost tamed. Now it was returning to its usual
state of wildness. ‘Boys generally are, anyway.’ She rubbed Eddie’s
shoulder gently; he wriggled, but showed no sign of waking. ‘It’s
time I put him to bed.’
She cradled Eddie’s head in her hands while
she extricated herself, then crouched beside the sofa to lift him
in her arms.
‘May I?’ Sarah asked.
‘He’s quite heavy,’ Amy demurred.
‘All the more reason I should be the one to
carry him.’
Amy moved aside and let Sarah take her
place. Sarah scooped Eddie up somewhat awkwardly; when she stood,
Amy guided her arms to take a more secure hold.
Eddie stirred a little. He flung one arm
around Sarah’s neck, and moved his head to nestle against her
shoulder. Amy knew the comforting feel of a child in her arms, all
softness and trust; to Sarah it was something new and startling.
She blinked in surprise, then cautiously traced a finger along the
curve of Eddie’s cheek, down to the corner of his mouth. He nuzzled
against her more closely.
Sarah lifted her eyes to meet Amy’s smiling
gaze. ‘He’s so warm,’ she said, a trace of wonder in her voice. She
shifted Eddie’s weight slightly. ‘And he
is
heavy,’ she
added, setting out towards the stairs.
Amy undressed Eddie and put him to bed by
the light from the passage, keeping his little room dim so as not
to disturb him. She opened the connecting door to her own room so
that she would hear him if he woke in the night, then she and Sarah
went out into the passage.
‘I know it’s early, but I think I might go
to bed myself,’ Amy said, stifling a yawn. ‘It’s been a big
day.’
‘An early night’s a fine idea—but can I
persuade you to stay up just a little longer? There’s something I’d
like to show you. It’ll only take a moment.’
Mildly curious, Amy allowed Sarah to lead
her along the passage to its furthest end, till they stood before a
closed door. Sarah opened the door and entered ahead of Amy, turned
on the light, then beckoned her in.
Amy found herself in a room that was almost
square. The walls were painted pale cream, bright and fresh in the
electric light, and with a hint of new paint smell. Large windows
along the front wall suggested that the room would be light and
airy in the daytime. A high shelf ran along two walls, and a
blackboard had been mounted on the remaining one. There was a plain
table, low enough to be comfortable for a child, but still
convenient for an adult, with two wooden chairs pulled up to it. A
slate and several pieces of chalk rested on the table, as well as
sheets of paper, pens, pencils and inkwells.
‘I’ve made you a schoolroom,’ said Sarah.
‘Do you think it will do?’
Amy stood in the centre of the room, gazing
about her quite lost for words.
‘I know it looks bare,’ Sarah said. ‘But I
thought it would be nicer for you to choose what books and so forth
you’d like to use. Paints and drawing things, too. And you’ll want
maps and pictures for the walls—I’ve had them left plain so you can
put whatever you want on them. We can go out shopping tomorrow if
you like.’
‘You’ve done this just for me?’ Amy said,
regaining her voice at last.
‘Yes. I knew you’d want to go on teaching
Eddie, and I thought you might like to have a real schoolroom of
your own. And—this is completely up to you, of course—but if you
felt you wanted one or two other pupils, I’ve had acquaintances
with young children remark that they’d dearly love to send them to
you for a term or so rather than straight to a big school. Emily’s
oldest, for one.’
‘They want me to teach their children?’ Amy
asked, scarcely daring to believe it.
‘And why shouldn’t they? You’re obviously
doing a fine job with Eddie. He might enjoy the company of other
children, too, until you feel you want to send him to school.’
A schoolroom of her own. As many children to
teach as she wished. That spark of excitement when a child first
made the link between scratches on a page and the words of a story
would be hers to share in over and over again. And in the meantime,
a proper room to use for teaching Eddie, not a corner of the
kitchen table that had to be cleared as soon as it was time to
prepare the next meal.
‘Thank you,’ Amy said, feeling the words to
be hopelessly inadequate. She sank onto one of the chairs.
Sarah took the other chair. ‘I do realise I
can’t keep you here all the time. I know I’ll have to share you
with Dave and Beth, and Daisy, and goodness knows how many more
children that might come along.’
‘There won’t…’ Amy hesitated; was it correct
to tell anyone else about this? But Sarah was family. In any case,
people would notice soon enough that Daisy was not being joined by
brothers or sisters. ‘Do you remember me telling you we were
worried about Beth when Daisy was on the way? She’s come right now,
more or less, but… well, they think it might be best if she doesn’t
have any more. So there’ll just be Daisy.’
‘Oh, I see.’ Sarah sounded thoughtful rather
than concerned; she must be blissfully unaware of the contrivances
and sacrifices the resolution demanded of David and Beth. She gave
a small laugh. ‘I’ll admit I’m selfishly relieved. I think I’m
capable of becoming as fond of two small children as an aunt should
be, but I wouldn’t like to be put to the test if Beth were to
follow her mother’s example.’
‘Daisy’s a lovely baby, I’m sure you’d like
her.’ Amy knew that Sarah was not overly fond of infants, but
Daisy, with all her charms, must be an exception.
‘Perhaps I would—we shall have to see. I
expect you’ll want to visit the farm several times a year, and it
will no doubt suit Eddie to run wild there as a change from
Auckland.’
‘He’s very fond of Daisy, he’ll want to see
her again before long. And they seem grow up so quickly, I don’t
want to miss too much of that. I wouldn’t like to be away too long
and have her forget me.’
‘We’ll make sure there’s no danger of that.
I shall have to manage without you—and I suspect the house is going
to seem very quiet when Eddie’s away!’ Sarah smiled. ‘But I think I
may invite myself to go with you occasionally—perhaps at
Christmas.’
‘That would be lovely! As long as you didn’t
mind sharing with me—they haven’t got a lot of room.’
‘Oh, I expect I could put up with you for a
week or two,’ Sarah teased. ‘I find myself wanting to make Daisy’s
acquaintance, although I know she won’t be much of a
conversationalist as yet. I hope you realise that I fully intend to
interfere in the case of Daisy?’ A glint of mischief lit Sarah’s
eyes. ‘Once she’s exhausted the possibilities of that little school
in the valley, I want to see that she goes to High School, at the
very least. My interference will, of course, extend as far as
insisting that I be allowed to pay for it. But I won’t hear any
nonsense about girls not needing a proper education.’
‘I’d like to see Daisy go to High School—and
I don’t think Beth would say she couldn’t. Beth’s not one for
saying girls shouldn’t be allowed to do things—she goes out on the
farm with Dave, and she gets him to help her in the house so she
can manage to do both. And if Beth says it’s all right about the
High School, Dave’ll go along with it.’
‘Very sensible of him. But I think I can
safely delay any interference in Daisy’s future for a good few
years yet. It’s Eddie who’s uppermost in my thoughts at the
moment.’
‘This will be such a lovely room for his
lessons.’
‘I’m glad it suits. Whatever else you need,
you’ve only to ask.’ Sarah stacked the nearest sheets of paper into
a tidy pile, and placed several pencils on it. ‘So yes, you’ll go
and visit Dave and Beth, and you’ll make sure Eddie’s able to spend
time with his cousin. But I want you to consider this your home
from now on, Amy. You and Eddie both.’
‘You’ve gone to so much trouble. Getting him
a pony and everything!’
‘Oh, my motives were purely selfish, I
assure you. I was simply thinking of what might help Eddie settle
in. I knew I wouldn’t be able to persuade you to make your home
with me if he wasn’t happy here. That, of course, was before I met
Eddie,’ Sarah said meditatively. ‘Now I find myself thinking rather
further ahead.’
‘What do you mean, dear?’
‘His education, for one thing. Of course
you’ll teach him here for as long as you wish, but we’ll look into
a good school for when the time comes.’
‘Not a boarding school,’ Amy said
quickly.
‘Certainly not. I want Eddie to be brought
up by you, not a succession of schoolmasters. No, a primary school
as close to home as we can find one we like, then whatever we
decide is the best grammar school for him—Auckland Grammar’s
closer, but we might prefer King’s College. And university after
that.’ She saw Amy’s dazed expression, and smiled. ‘Oh, yes, I have
grand ideas for Eddie, though we’ll leave him in blissful ignorance
of them for now. I’d like him to study enough law to know whether
he’s being properly advised or not—I see that as a necessary
preparation. Beyond that, he can choose whatever subjects take his
interest.’
‘University?’ Amy echoed faintly.
‘Preparation? What for?’
Sarah arranged pieces of chalk around the
edge of the slate. ‘I don’t intend to marry. I’d see that as
diminishing my own comfort, and probably the comfort of any man
foolish enough to take on the challenge. The one thing I might have
felt I lacked was companionship.’ She put her hand over Amy’s.
‘I’ll never lack it as long as you’re here.