Mud and Gold (7 page)

Frank gave her a grateful peck on the cheek
when he thought Edie was not looking, then hurried out the door and
after Arthur.

‘Wait a minute, Mr Leith,’ Frank called when
he was close. ‘Can I walk with you for a bit?’

‘Frank! I’m flattered,’ Arthur said,
laughing. ‘Now, why am I suddenly more interesting than my
daughter?’

‘I like talking with you.’

‘You don’t need to butter me up any more,
Frank. I’ve said you can have her, and it’s a bit late to change my
mind now.’

‘I’m not trying to butter you up—I really do
like talking with you.’

‘Just don’t get me mixed up with Lizzie and
try to kiss me.’ Arthur gave Frank a friendly slap on the back.
‘Now, what do you want to talk about?’

Don’t muck about, Frank told himself. Come
straight to the point. At least it wouldn’t be as hard as asking
for Lizzie’s hand. Arthur wouldn’t hit him for asking this. He
might laugh, though.

‘I… I’m really glad me and Lizzie are going
to get married,’ he began.

‘I should hope so. Lizzie’ll make you a fine
wife.’

‘Yes, she will. But… I’m glad I’ll be part
of your family as well. That means a lot to me.’

Arthur gave him an indulgent smile. ‘It
means a lot to me, too, Frank, even if you can be a bit stupid
sometimes.’

‘Thank you,’ Frank said absently. ‘I mean…
well, I was pretty young when Pa died, so I haven’t had a father
for a long time. I’m really glad you’re going to be my pa now. I
sort of think maybe… can I call you Pa?’

‘Well, you could wait till next week! Now,
I’m only joking, don’t look so crushed. Call me Pa. I’d like you
to.’

‘Thanks, Pa. You know, I’ve been thinking,
maybe my pa would be telling me some things now. I sort of wondered
if… if maybe you could tell me them instead?’

Arthur looked at him blankly. ‘What are you
talking about, Frank? What things?’

‘Things about getting married.’ There, it
was out now.

‘Ah. Right. You want some advice about
marriage, do you?’

‘Yes, please.’ This was going well; Arthur
had caught on beautifully.

‘Hmm.’ Arthur looked thoughtful. ‘Let’s sit
down for a bit,’ he said when they neared a fallen log. They sat
beside each other, and Arthur was silent for a few moments.

‘Now, Lizzie’s my daughter, and she’s a good
girl really, but it has to be said—she’s bossy. All women like
their own way, but Lizzie’s keener on it than most. I don’t know
where she gets that from, I’ve never had much trouble with Edie,
but it’s a fact. You’re going to have a bit of bother with
her.’

‘I am?’ Frank asked in confusion. He seemed
to have lost track of the conversation rather suddenly.

‘Unless you get things sorted out early on.
That’s the secret, Frank—never let a woman rule you, and let her
know you’re not going to allow it right from the start. If she
thinks she can get away with her nonsense she’ll get worse and
worse. The first time she tries it, you’ll have to come down hard
on her.’

‘Ah… how do I do that?’ This wasn’t really
what he needed to hear, but maybe it would be useful. It might get
wearing, being told what to do all the time.

‘Now, mind, I’m not talking about being
rough, Frank. I don’t want to see my daughter covered in bruises.
I’d have something to say about it if she was, husband or no
husband.’

‘Bruises?’ Frank echoed in alarm.

Arthur patted him on the shoulder. ‘I don’t
really need to tell you that, do I, Frank? You’re not a violent
man, any more than I am. No, there’s no need to be cruel just to
show a woman who’s boss. One or two hidings, that’s all it should
take.’ He stopped and thought for a while. ‘Though being Lizzie, it
might take three or four.’

‘Are… are you saying I should hit Lizzie?’
Frank asked hesitantly, hoping he had misunderstood.

‘Not all the time, just until she gets the
idea. She’s not stupid—she’s pretty smart, come to that. She’ll
catch on soon enough. After that you just need to give her a look
or a sharp word if she plays up, just to remind her.’

‘I don’t think I could,’ Frank admitted. ‘I
mean, I’m fond of Lizzie—I don’t want to hurt her.’ That reminded
him of the real reason for this discussion, but Arthur was not to
be diverted just now.

‘Of course you’re fond of her—that’s why you
want to do the right thing by her. It’s not natural for a woman to
rule a house, Frank. You’ll only end up both being miserable if you
let that happen, you mark my words.’

‘Will we?’

Arthur nodded. ‘Did you ever hear any good
of a house where the woman wears the trousers? She’d make your life
a misery, and you’d be a laughing-stock. It wouldn’t make her
happy, either, though she might think it would. Women need a man to
tell them what to do, even the bossy ones.’

Frank chewed at his lip. ‘How would I do
it?’ he asked. It was hard to imagine Lizzie meekly standing still
to let herself be hit. And even harder to imagine himself doing the
hitting.

‘It’s important to be fair, remember that.
Give her a warning the first time she plays up, then the next time
you let her have it. You can use your hand…’ He stopped and studied
Frank. ‘Though you’re not all that much bigger than Lizzie, are
you? You might have trouble making a good job of it with just your
hand. No, you’d be better to use a belt or a strap. I don’t approve
of using a stick on a woman, that’s too harsh.’

Would this really be the best for Lizzie?
Frank wondered. He wanted to make her happy, but… ‘Where’s the best
place to do it?’

‘Bedroom, of course. It’s the only place
private enough.’

‘No, I meant sort of… where on her?’

Arthur laughed. ‘On the part with the best
padding, of course! Right on the backside. You’re not aiming to
damage her, remember, just make her take a bit of notice of
you.’

‘Hmm.’ Try as he might, Frank could not
picture himself taking a belt to Lizzie. She would just tell him
not to be so stupid.

‘You’ll get on just fine, Frank, as long as
you start as you mean to go on. All right? Has that been any help?’
Frank could see that Arthur was ready to stand up and move
away.

‘Well…’ Frank said, ‘I think so—I mean, I’m
sure it has, but…’

‘Hmm? What else do you want me to tell you
about?’

‘I was sort of wondering… I don’t really
know…’ Now the right words refused to come. Frank took a deep
breath and tried again. ‘Lizzie and me are getting married next
week.’

‘I know that, Frank. I should know, it’s
going to cost me enough money.’

‘We’ll get married, and then we’ll go to my
place.’

‘That’s the general idea, yes.’

‘That’s right. We’ll go to my place, and
we’ll… well, I suppose we’ll go inside, maybe make a cup of tea or
something.’

‘I don’t think you’ll bother with that,’
Arthur said with a knowing smile.

‘Maybe not. Maybe we’ll just…’ Frank trailed
off and felt himself redden. ‘Maybe we’ll go straight to bed,’ he
said to the ground between his feet.

‘I expect you will. Lord knows I’ve made you
wait long enough, you’re not going to want to waste any more
time.’

Frank nudged at a clod of earth with one
foot. ‘So we’ll go to bed, and then—’

‘Yes, yes, we don’t need all the details,’
Arthur interrupted. ‘I think I’ve got the general idea. You don’t
need to ask my permission, you know.’ He peered at Frank’s
expression. ‘Is something wrong, Frank? What’s on your mind?’

‘I don’t…’ Frank raised his eyes to meet
Arthur’s, and was reassured by the friendly concern he saw there.
‘I don’t know what to do,’ he said in a rush, then looked down
again.

There was a long silence. ‘I see,’ Arthur
said at last. ‘Well, I needn’t have worried about you two getting
up to mischief, eh? So you’ve never been around the back and
upstairs at the Royal Hotel, then?’

‘Where the whores are?’ Frank asked,
shocked. ‘No, never!’

‘And a good thing, too,’ Arthur said
quickly. ‘That’s not a fit place for married men to be going—I
wouldn’t like to think of you spending your evenings there. Still,’
he looked thoughtful, ‘it’s not a bad place to find out—no, that’s
enough talk about whores.’ He lapsed into silence once more, until
Frank began to fear that the conversation might be over. Arthur
cleared his throat and started speaking again.

‘The most important thing to remember,’ he
said portentously, ‘is to be very gentle with her.’

‘Yes, right,’ Frank said, storing Arthur’s
remark away. This was certainly more encouraging than talk of
making women yell.

‘Very gentle,’ Arthur repeated. ‘Start off
nice and slow, then just sort of gentle her along a bit.’

He was becoming disconcertingly vague. ‘Ah,
what exactly should I do?’ Frank asked, desperation overcoming
reticence.

Arthur seemed reluctant to meet his eyes.
‘Well, you’ve been around animals all your life, Frank. You must
have the general idea.’

‘I suppose so,’ Frank said doubtfully.

‘And of course you’ve heard the men’s talk
out in the paddocks? That’d tell you a bit, too.’

Maybe it would if he could understand any of
it. ‘Yes,’ Frank said miserably.

‘Right, then. So all you have to do is…
well, you get her into bed with you, then you have a bit of a
cuddle, then you… well, you just do what comes naturally.’

If only he could be sure it would come
naturally.

‘Remembering what I said about being gentle,
of course,’ Arthur added.

‘Of course,’ Frank echoed.

‘So, you’re all sorted out now. That’s
good.’

‘Thank you,’ Frank said, feeling that some
sort of response was expected.

*

Amy saw Frank riding home while she was
carrying a bucket of water up from the well. She waved, but Frank
was obviously too absorbed in his thoughts to look away from the
road in front of him.

He’s thinking about Lizzie
, Amy
thought fondly.
He’s going to make her a nice husband. She was
right to pick him. And I thought I was so clever—I used to think
Frank was boring. Serves me right
.

The bucket banged painfully against her leg,
diverting her thoughts from their fruitless course.
Carrying
this water’s going to get hard soon, when I start getting big. If I
am having a baby—maybe I’m just really, really late. I don’t know
how long it takes for the bleeding to get regular again
. She
did her best to ignore the voice that told her she would have to
face the truth soon.

A whinny from the horse paddock startled her
as she passed it. ‘Hello, Smokey,’ she called to the grey gelding.
‘Are you a bit lonely in there?’

Something about the way Smokey tossed his
head did not seem quite right. Amy put down her bucket and walked
over to the paddock. She looked down and saw that the horse had
entangled his front fetlock in a coil of rusting wire lying near
the fence. ‘Oh, poor Smokey, no wonder you’re frightened.’ She
reached through the lower two rails and tried to grasp the twisted
wire, but it was just beyond her reach.

Smokey tossed his head and snorted
nervously. He stamped his foot, rattling the wire. ‘Stop that,
Smokey—you’ll make it worse. Oh, I’ll have to climb over and
untangle you.’

Amy started to clamber over the fence,
holding on to a post and careful to avoid the section of the top
rail where the wood had split into two jagged spikes. Just as she
reached out towards Smokey’s halter, a gust of wind caught her
skirts and set them flapping. Smokey whinnied in alarm and tried to
rear, then let out a horsey scream of pain as the end of the wire
bit into his leg.

‘What the hell are you doing?’ came a shout
behind Amy. ‘Get away from my horse!’

Amy turned to see Charlie running towards
her. ‘He’s caught in some wire—I was trying to get him out of
it.’

‘Trying to cripple him, more like. Get down
off there.’ He yanked at Amy, pulling her off the fence. She heard
her skirt rip as the split in the wood caught it. Charlie pushed
her away from him. She lost her balance and fell to the ground.

Charlie made soothing noises to the horse,
caught him by the halter, and tethered it to the fence with some
twine from his pocket. He soon had the wire safely away from
Smokey’s leg. He threw it over the fence, climbed back to Amy’s
side, and untied the halter. Smokey moved off with only a slight
limp.

Amy picked herself up and raised her eyes to
meet Charlie’s. She winced at the anger she saw there. ‘I’m sorry,’
she said in a small voice. ‘I was only trying to help Smokey.’

She cried out as Charlie smacked the back of
his hand against her cheek. ‘You had no business interfering with
my horse! You keep away from my animals, you stupid bitch! The
kitchen’s your place. You could have lamed him!’ He caught her
another blow, this time across the side of her head, making Amy’s
ears ring, then took hold of her bodice and shook her. ‘I’ll teach
you your place!’ He slapped her hard on both cheeks, still gripping
her bodice with one hand, while Amy sobbed with pain. When he let
go she sank to her knees and cradled her face between her
hands.

‘I’m sorry,’ her voice came out
indistinctly. ‘I’m sorry, Charlie.’

He snarled a curse at her and stalked away,
bumping against Amy’s bucket of water and knocking it flying as he
went.

Amy crouched on the ground until the roaring
in her ears stopped, then fumbled for her now-empty bucket.
I’ve
done the wrong thing again. I’m going to have another bruise
now
.
I hope it’s gone before Lizzie’s wedding
.

April 1885

On the day before his wedding Frank managed
to persuade his brother to take the milk to the factory, giving
Frank a valuable hour or two alone. It was best that Ben did not
see what Frank was about to do.