Mud and Gold (22 page)

The final meal preparations were soon
complete. Amy and Susannah left the food to keep warm on the range
and joined the men at the table. Amy picked Malcolm up and sat him
on her lap, but he whined at being held.

‘He’s rather a grizzly baby, isn’t he?’
Susannah remarked. ‘He’s always cried a lot.’

‘He doesn’t cry much now,’ Amy said
defensively. She gripped Malcolm more tightly as he struggled to
get free.

‘Give him here,’ Charlie said, and Amy
passed the little boy over to him. ‘Stop that noise,’ he told
Malcolm. The grizzles stopped abruptly, and Malcolm gave his father
a dubious look. His face broke into a smile as he tugged at
Charlie’s beard.

Amy studied the two of them. ‘He likes his
Papa best,’ she said.
Much better than he likes me. But that’s
only fair—I didn’t even want him before he was born. Charlie’s
wanted a son half his life, I think
.

‘He’s talking a bit now,’ Charlie said.
‘Walking, too.’ He stood Malcolm on the floor between his knees.
The little boy took a few steps on tiptoe while Charlie held his
hands.

‘They grow up fast, eh?’ Jack said. ‘It only
seems the other day you were starting to walk, girl,’ he said,
smiling at Amy. ‘Now you’ve got one of your own.’

Two
. An image of her tiny,
dark-haired daughter rose sharply in Amy’s mind. To hide the sudden
stab of memory she took hold of Malcolm’s hand as Charlie lifted
him back onto his lap. ‘Show Grandpa what you can say, Mal,’ she
coaxed. ‘Come on. Who’s got you? Papa’s got you.’

‘Papa,’ Malcolm repeated. ‘Papa. Papa.’
Charlie looked smug.

‘There’s nothing of you in that child, Amy,’
Susannah said. ‘He’s just the image of his father.’ Amy knew she
did not say it to be kind, but Charlie looked more pleased with
himself than ever.

‘It’s about time he started walking,’
Susannah added. ‘He’s a little bit slow to be just starting
now.’

Charlie looked affronted at the slight to
his son. He turned to Amy for reassurance. ‘No, he’s not!’ Amy
said. ‘He’s just average. He’s so big, too, it’s harder work for
him to walk.’

Susannah looked doubtful. ‘I suppose that
might be right. Oh, I expect he just seems slow to me because my
children were so forward.’

‘They were not,’ Amy said. ‘They were about
the same as Malcolm.’

‘Oh, I don’t think so, Amy,’ Susannah said.
‘I’m quite sure Thomas walked before he was this age.’

‘He didn’t,’ Amy insisted. Susannah was
going to upset Charlie, going on like this, and she was talking a
load of rubbish anyway. ‘Tommy was thirteen months when he walked,
exactly the same as Malcolm is now.’

‘Well, I do think I’m more likely to
remember when my own child started walking than you are,’ Susannah
said haughtily. ‘What makes you so sure you’re right and I’m
wrong?’

‘Because I taught Tommy to walk,’ Amy shot
back.

Susannah’s composure was shaken for a
moment. She looked away. ‘Oh. Perhaps you did, I don’t remember. Of
course I would have been busy with George—I was probably rather
ill, anyway. Perhaps it was George who was early walking. Anyway,’
she said, continuing the attack with renewed vigour, ‘they both
started talking early. They were certainly saying quite a few words
by that age.’

‘Leave the girl alone, Susannah,’ Jack put
in, forestalling Amy’s retort. ‘There’s nothing wrong with this boy
of hers.’

‘I didn’t say there was anything wrong with
him,’ Susannah said. ‘I was just saying he was slower than my
children.’

‘Well, you’ve said it. Keep quiet about it
now. When’s lunch going to be ready?’

‘It’s ready now. As soon as Harry and Jane
decide to turn up we can all eat.
If
they turn up.’

‘They’ll be here,’ Jack said.

‘Humph. I
thought
Jane was going to
come this morning and she didn’t.’

‘Harry’s stomach will tell him lunch is on.
We’ll wait a couple more minutes.’

‘Well, all I can say is don’t blame me if
lunch is ruined, standing on the range for so long. Is it too much
to expect people to turn up on time to eat it? The meat will dry
out, and—’

‘Shut up, Susannah.’

‘I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve
being spoken to like that. After slaving all morning in this hot
kitchen. Just because I said—’

‘Oh, for God’s sake, Susannah,’ Jack
interrupted. ‘Give us a rest from it.’ Susannah glared at him, but
said nothing.

The ensuing few minutes’ awkward silence was
broken by an oblivious Thomas. ‘I’m hungry, Mama. I want
lunch.’

‘Me too,’ George chimed in.

‘Your father says you have to wait for your
big brother, darlings,’ Susannah told them, casting a meaningful
look at Jack. ‘We’re not allowed to talk about it, or Papa will
growl.’

Jack barely suppressed a curse, then sighed.
‘I’m fed up with waiting for those two myself. Amy, how about you
hop down and give them a hurry up?’

Amy looked at him in alarm. If Harry and
Jane really were having an argument, she had no desire to become
part of it. As if that weren’t enough, she caught Charlie’s eye and
realised she would have to ask his permission in front of everyone
to ‘wander’ off by herself. But there seemed no way of avoiding
it.

‘Is it… is it all right if I go down to
Harry’s?’ She spoke as quietly as she could, but she felt Jack’s
and Susannah’s eyes on her, then saw them exchange a surprised
glance. She cringed with embarrassment.

John spoke up, startling her. ‘I’ll come
down with you, shall I, Amy? It won’t take long.’

Amy looked a question at Charlie, and he
gave a nod of approval. She smiled at John, grateful that he had
broken the unpleasant moment.

‘I’ll go too,’ Thomas announced.

‘No, you won’t,’ Susannah said, noticing the
grubby state of her sons for the first time. ‘Look at the two of
you! You look like nasty, rough children. I told you not to get
dirty.’

‘I want to go with Amy!’ Thomas
protested.

‘Well, you can’t. Come along, I’ll have to
wash your faces again.’

‘Let me go with Amy, Mama,’ Thomas
pleaded.

‘Don’t want my face washed,’ George said,
looking rebellious.

‘Do as you’re told!’ Susannah gave each of
them a sharp slap on the bottom to reinforce her words, then
dragged the yelling children out of the room.

‘Have another beer, Charlie,’ Amy heard her
father say wearily as she and John closed the back door on the
uproar.

‘Thanks for saying you’d come with me,
John,’ Amy said as soon as they were clear of the house.

‘That’s all right. I wanted to get out of
there, anyway.’

Neither of them referred to Amy’s need to
ask permission merely to leave the house by herself, but she knew
that John had noticed. ‘I think maybe you’re the only one in the
family with any sense,’ Amy said, trying to make her voice light.
‘At least you haven’t rushed and got married.’

‘Well, maybe it’s not something to rush
into.’

‘Have the rest of us put you off, then?’

John looked thoughtful. ‘Not exactly,’ he
said after a time. ‘I guess it’s made me… careful. I sure wouldn’t
want to end up with a… with someone like Susannah.’ He gave a
laugh. ‘There must be something good about it, eh? Otherwise people
wouldn’t keep doing it. That Harry looks pretty smug half the time,
when Jane’s in a good mood with him.’

‘Yes, he does. They’re not really like Pa
and Susannah.’

‘What about you?’ John asked, with a
casualness Amy suspected was feigned. ‘Are things all right with
you and him?’

‘Yes, they’re fine,’ Amy said, wishing she
could raise a more enthusiastic tone. ‘He loves Mal, he really
does. We get on all right, as long as I’m not stupid about things.
I haven’t got anything to complain about.’

‘You’re easy enough to get on with. Charlie
must think he’s pretty lucky.’ If he did, Amy reflected, he hid it
well.

They reached the last small stand of bush
before Harry and Jane’s two-roomed cottage and came to a halt. Only
a low murmur came through the open window that faced them. ‘What do
we do?’ Amy asked. ‘Knock on the door?’

‘I suppose so,’ John said uncertainly.

As he spoke, they heard two voices suddenly
raised in altercation. They were close enough to distinguish Jane’s
soprano shrilling over Harry’s deeper tones.

‘I’d just as soon not go and knock,’ John
said. ‘Maybe we could start talking loud so they’ll hear us from
here.’

‘We’d have to make a lot of noise.’

‘Mmm. Let’s just wait a minute, they might
stop.’

They stood and listened to the commotion
Harry and Jane were making. It was difficult to think of it as
eavesdropping when the contenders seemed to have no concern over
whether or not they were overheard. The noise soon resolved into
intelligible words.

‘How do you expect me to keep this place
clean when there’s great huge puddles all over the floor every time
it rains?’ they heard Jane yell.

‘A bit of water, that’s all. You’re making
all this fuss over a few drops of water. Why didn’t you put
something down to catch it, anyway?’

‘You’ve got a cheek saying that. How could I
know the roof would leak again? It’s
your
fault.’ There was
a sharp crash.

‘Aw, Jane, that was the last cup. Why have
you got to throw things all the time? You nearly got me with that
one.’

‘You’d drive a saint to it! You
said
you’d fixed it last week. You stamped about on the roof for long
enough.’

‘I thought I had.’ Harry sounded defensive,
but his volume did not drop. ‘That was a real storm last night, it
must have lifted the iron.’

‘Storm!’ Jane said derisively. ‘It was a
shower, that’s all. If you’d built this house properly in the first
place you wouldn’t have to fix it now.’

‘There’s nothing wrong with this house! It’s
a bloody good house.’

‘Don’t you use that language to me, Harry
Leith. And if it’s such a wonderful house, why does the roof leak?
Why does the door stick in the wet weather?’

‘Why do you moan all the time?’

‘I don’t moan! Anyway, you’d moan if you had
to clean up all this water whenever it’s wet.
And
I’m sick
of you stamping around in the house with your dirty boots all the
time.’

‘I do not! Not for ages and ages,
anyway.’

‘You did it yesterday! I’d just scrubbed the
floor and you tramped right over it.’

‘It’s my floor. I’ll walk on it when I
want.’

‘Your floor? I have to scrub it, don’t I?
And I have to mop up the water when
your
roof leaks. Just
look at these puddles. Look at them!’

‘Water, eh? You’re sick of water. You’re
moaning about a couple of little puddles. I’ll give you something
to moan about. I’ll show you water.’

‘You keep away from me. What are you doing?
Don’t you dare!’ Jane gave a shrill scream. They heard the sound of
furniture scraping against the floor, as if Harry was chasing Jane
around the room.

Amy turned to John in alarm. ‘Maybe you
should stop him.’

‘Me?’ John looked at her in amusement. ‘No
thanks. It’s none of my business, anyway. They can sort it out for
themselves.’

‘But…’
he’s going to hit her
. But
John was right: it was no one else’s business what Harry chose to
do with Jane. Amy wondered why on earth Jane would want to bait her
husband so; surely she knew he would hit her. Amy did not want to
hear Jane’s screams when he did. ‘I want to go back now, John.’

‘Why? The fun’s just starting.’

‘Fun? But he’s going to hit her.’

‘Course he isn’t! Harry’s all talk, he
always has been. You should know that.’

Amy shook her head. What John said of Harry
was true enough, but it did not fit her own experience of
marriage.

Jane screamed again and the cottage door
opened noisily. That door
did
stick, Amy noticed with a
corner of her mind. Harry burst through the door with a loudly
yelling Jane slung over one shoulder.

‘You put me down!’ Jane demanded. ‘You put
me down this minute.’ She pummelled at Harry’s back with her fists,
but he took no notice. ‘What are you doing? Stop it!’

‘I told you. I’m going to show you some real
water. That’ll stop your moaning.’

Harry strode down the hill in front of the
cottage, walking a little unsteadily under his struggling load. Amy
and John saw where he was headed much earlier than Jane, whose head
was upside down against Harry’s back. It was only when Harry
reached the bank of the creek that Jane realised what he
intended.

‘Don’t you dare! You put me down!’

‘All right,’ Harry said agreeably. He
grasped Jane around the waist and slid her forward over his
shoulder until her feet were almost on the ground, then he thrust
her out over the creek and let go.

Jane’s yell of protest was cut off abruptly
as water entered her mouth. She went right under for a few seconds,
then sat up coughing and spluttering, water streaming down her face
and hair on to her soaking bodice. Harry doubled over with laughter
as he watched.

‘You beast!’ Jane flung at him as soon as
she had her voice back. ‘Look at me—I’m wet through!’

Harry was too convulsed with mirth to speak
for some time. At last he gasped out, ‘Are you wet enough now? Has
that cooled you down, you little hothead?’

‘You’re horrible! Look at the state I’m
in.’

‘That’ll teach you not to moan all the time.
You just remember—aw, Janey, don’t do that,’ Harry said as Jane’s
face crumpled. ‘Don’t start crying.’

‘I c-can’t help it,’ Jane choked out through
a sob. ‘You’re annoyed with me. I hate it when you’re annoyed with
me. I shouldn’t have gone on about the house, I know. I didn’t mean
to. Ohh, this water’s cold,’ she said, hugging herself.

‘Get out of it, then. Hurry up, Jane, I
don’t want you to get cold.’