Mud and Gold (77 page)

Lizzie hurried over to the couch, took hold
of Amy’s right hand and tugged at it. ‘Poor love,’ she
murmured.

Amy stared down at her hands and saw a drop
of blood welling up on her finger. It was deep crimson, darker than
she had known blood from a finger could be, and it grew in size as
she watched.

She gave a great shudder, and realised that
she had not breathed for some time. With the movement came feeling.
Amy let out a strangled sound that might have been a shriek if it
had had any real volume. But the cry was not from the pain in her
hand; she had many times felt far worse pain than that and kept
silent.

Her loss of control lasted only moments. By
the time Lizzie had finished dabbing the blood away and tying a
strip of cloth around the finger, Amy had assumed something close
to her usual calm appearance.

‘I’m sorry I gave you all a fright,’ she
said, trying unsuccessfully to smile. ‘I felt a bit faint, that
must be why my hand slipped.’

‘It’s the heat,’ Lizzie said. ‘It’s bad in
here this afternoon. Would you like to lie down for a bit? Frank,
help her into our bedroom.’

Frank was standing over Amy, looking
concerned. He bent to slip an arm behind her back. ‘Shall I carry
you?’

‘No, Frank. Please don’t worry about me, I’m
all right now.’ She accepted Frank’s support to stand up. ‘I’d
better go home now.’

‘Have a lie-down first,’ Lizzie urged.
‘You’re white as a sheet.’

‘No, I’ve got to go, or there’ll be a fuss.
It’ll be time to get Charlie’s afternoon tea ready, it was good of
you to have yours early so I could come. He doesn’t like being kept
waiting, and I don’t want trouble today—I do feel a bit odd.’

‘You can’t walk home in that state,’ Lizzie
said. ‘Frank, you’d better take her home. You can pop her behind
you on the horse, she hardly weighs more than a feather.’

‘No,’ said Amy. ‘I’ll walk.’

‘Are you sure, Amy?’ Frank said. ‘I don’t
mind taking you, and you look pretty pale.’

‘Thank you, Frank, but I can’t. I’d never
hear the end of it from Charlie if I went off by myself with
you.’

‘Ooh, that man,’ Lizzie muttered. ‘All
right, then, Maudie can take you. Maudie, go and catch one of the
horses, then you can double Aunt Amy home.’

‘There’s no need—’ Amy began.

‘Yes, there is. Don’t argue, Amy.’

Amy submitted to Lizzie’s orders, relieved
that she did not have to attempt the walk home while her head was
still spinning. She let herself be lifted onto the horse behind
Maudie, and clung on to Maudie’s waist when the little girl told
her to.

The slow ride, with Maudie scrupulously
keeping the horse to a walk, offered few distractions. Maudie
prattled away, but she did not seem concerned whether or not Amy
answered her, and Amy took the opportunity to put her jangled
thoughts in order.

I haven’t even thought of him in
years
. If her thoughts had turned even vaguely to Jimmy, she
had imagined him in Australia, as remote as if he were dead. And
now it seemed he was no further away than Auckland.
Auckland.
Where Ann was born. Does he ever wonder what happened to his child?
Does he ever wonder about me?
The memory of loss was a raw,
open wound. Not the loss of Jimmy himself, but the things he had
taken from her: innocence; the right to stay in her father’s house
and not feel herself a shameful burden; the possibility of a life
that did not include marrying Charlie. And Ann.
My daughter. He
gave me Ann, but I couldn’t keep her because he ran away. He never
wanted me. Not as a wife, anyway. I suppose he’s got what he wants
now—a fancy wife, the sort he can show to his elegant friends. Not
a rough farm girl without proper manners. I was only good enough to
make a baby with
.

Amy thrust aside the picture of the baby in
her arms. The place for weeping was in the privacy of her own room,
not on a bright afternoon out on the road where anyone might see
her.

Maudie turned the horse off the road and on
to the farm track. Charlie looked up from the paddock where he was
digging potatoes, and shaded his eyes to see who was coming. When
he saw that Amy’s companion was only a child he turned back to his
digging, no longer interested.

‘Let me off here, Maudie, I’ll walk the rest
of the way.’

‘No, Ma said I’m to take you right to the
house,’ Maudie said self-righteously, and Amy let her have her
way.

When they got to the fence in front of the
cottage, Maudie brought the horse to a halt for Amy to dismount.
‘Shall I help you down, Aunt Amy?’

‘No, thank you, I can manage.’ Amy tightened
her arms around Maudie’s waist and leaned over her shoulder to
plant a kiss on her smooth cheek. ‘You’re a good girl, Maudie. Your
ma’s very lucky to have a daughter like you.’ She slid from the
horse’s back and waved to Maudie as she rode off.

Amy stood on the porch steps for a few
moments, watching Maudie shrink into the distance. Charlie would
come up for his afternoon tea now he had seen her returning; she
had better make a batch of scones for him. And the boys would be
home from school before long, wanting something to eat. She would
have to try and give Malcolm a reading lesson; it had been several
days since his last one. Perhaps she could slip a lesson in before
it was time to start preparing dinner. The rain barrel was almost
empty; there would not be enough in it for the vegetables and to
wash the dishes afterwards, so that would mean a trip to the well
to fill a pair of kerosene tins. The kitchen floor was due for
cleaning, too; she would have to remember to save the soapy water
for scrubbing it in the morning.

Work doesn’t get done by standing around
thinking about it. That’s what Granny used to say
. She turned
from the sight of Maudie trotting briskly away and went into the
kitchen, the heat of the sunny room washing over her like a wave.
I don’t suppose women who wear dresses all covered in lace and
embroidery ever do scrub floors
.

*

‘What’s wrong with Amy?’ Frank asked as soon
as Maudie had ridden away with Amy clinging on behind her.

Lizzie glanced at Beth watching them with
interest. ‘I’ll tell you later,’ she said, and Frank left it at
that.

Maudie persuaded her mother to let her stay
up later than usual that evening so that she could sit on her
father’s lap, and Frank knew better than to ask again about Amy
with such an attentive audience. Lizzie finally sent Maudie to bed,
and suggested an early night to Frank.

Lizzie undressed and put on her nightgown,
then sat in front of the mirror brushing her hair. Frank watched
her from the edge of the bed, wondering at her pensiveness. Perhaps
she was anxious about Amy.

‘Is Amy poorly?’ he asked. ‘She’s not
expecting, is she?’

‘No, she’s not,’ Lizzie said, not turning
away from the mirror, though the brush paused in its movement
through her hair. ‘I asked her about that again the other day, she
just laughs me off and says I’m having enough babies for the whole
valley.’

‘So why did she take that funny turn? Has
that old so-and-so been knocking her around again?’

‘I don’t think so. I don’t know if she’d
tell me if he did, mind you. But whenever I ask her if she’s having
any trouble like that she says he never hits her any more. I
suppose I’ve got to believe her.’

‘Good. That great lump of a man thumping a
little scrap like her. I’ll never forget how she was when you were
sick.’ He stood and walked the few steps to Lizzie, and rubbed her
shoulders. ‘I think she’s almost as fond of you as I am.’

Lizzie took one of his hands in hers for a
moment, then began brushing her hair more rapidly, pulling at it
almost roughly. After a few strokes she slapped the brush down on
the dressing table and turned to face him.

‘Frank, I’m going to tell you a secret,’ she
said, so solemn that Frank had to laugh.

‘Secret? I didn’t think you had any secrets
from me.’ He let his hands slide down her arms towards her waist.
‘I don’t know where you keep them hidden.’

Lizzie twisted out of his grasp. ‘No, listen
properly, or I won’t tell you. I haven’t got any secrets—not from
you, anyway. This one isn’t mine to tell. It’s Amy’s.’

‘Then you’d better not tell me,’ Frank said,
suddenly serious.

Lizzie sighed. ‘I think I had better. I’ve
been thinking about it all evening. I don’t want you upsetting Amy
like you did today. She’s got enough to put up with.’

‘Me?’ Frank said, startled. ‘I didn’t mean
to upset her. What did I do?’

‘It wasn’t your fault, you didn’t know any
better. That’s why I’m going to tell you—so you’ll know not to do
it again.’

Frank waited for Lizzie to speak, but having
announced her intention, she seemed reluctant.

‘Put out the lamp and hop in bed,’ she said
at last. ‘I don’t want to talk loud.’

Frank did as she said, and Lizzie pressed
close to him so that her mouth was beside his ear.

‘You remember that summer Jimmy was here,’
she began in a whisper.

‘I should do,’ Frank said, smiling into the
darkness. ‘That was the summer we started courting properly.’

‘Yes, we did. That was half the trouble—I
was so busy thinking about you that I didn’t take as much notice as
I should have of Amy.’

Lizzie fell silent again. ‘Well, Jimmy was
doing his own sort of courting,’ she went on after a long pause.
‘You must remember the way him and Amy were hanging around each
other all summer.’

‘I was too busy watching you,’ Frank
murmured in her ear. He cast his mind back ten years, remembering
the tall young man with the infectious laugh, and the way Amy had
been like his shadow while they were bringing in the hay on the
Leith farms. ‘I suppose they were. And at that dance—he thumped
Mike Feenan because Mike was giving Amy trouble.’

‘That’s right.’

‘But hang on, Lizzie—you’re not saying Amy
got upset just because they had a bit of a romance ten years ago
and I reminded her of it? Heck, she’s been married for years and
she’s got two kids—she’s surely not still pining for Jimmy!’

‘I hope not,’ Lizzie said. ‘He’s not worth
it.’

‘So why did she get upset today?’

Lizzie sighed. ‘It was more than a bit of a
romance—as far as Amy was concerned, anyway. Amy… well, she sort of
feels things stronger than other people. When she loves someone she
puts her whole soul into it. She loved him, Frank. He didn’t
deserve it, but she loved him. And then he asked her to marry
him.’

‘Did he? I never knew that! Did she turn him
down?’

‘Of course she didn’t! She was absolutely
besotted with him—she would have crawled a mile on her hands and
knees if he’d asked her to. She said yes, all right. She believed
him.’

‘So why didn’t they get married? Did her pa
break it up?’

‘He never knew about it. Not till it was too
late, anyway. Jimmy told Amy it’d have to be a secret engagement
for a while, and she went along with it. She was so young, Frank!
She believed everything he said. And then he ran off and left
her.’

‘Just ran off with no warning?’

‘Yes.’

‘That was pretty mean! Even if he’d changed
his mind about marrying her, he could have let her down
gently.’

‘That man didn’t care about anyone but
himself. That’s why he deserted her instead of facing up to his
duty. He took what he wanted, and then…’ Lizzie trailed off, and
when she started speaking again her voice was so quiet that Frank
could hardly hear her. ‘Then he ran away. Because she told him she
was going to have a baby.’

A jolt ran through Frank. ‘What?’

‘Don’t you dare think badly of her,’ Lizzie
said fiercely. ‘It wasn’t her fault—it wasn’t!’

‘I shook his hand the other day,’ Frank
said, his voice unsteady. ‘I shook the bastard’s hand. I should
have knocked him down into the gutter. To leave her like that, and
her carrying his child!’

‘He might have knocked you down first. He
was a lot bigger than you.’

‘Huh!’ Frank said in disgust. ‘He was all
right when he was down here, but I don’t think he’s done a day’s
real work since. His hand was just about as soft as his wife’s when
I shook it. Hey, it’s no wonder he looked worried when he spotted
me—he must have thought I knew what he’d done.’

‘Probably. We’ve managed to keep it pretty
secret.’

‘But… hang on,’ Frank said, struggling to
rearrange the assumptions he had made about Amy over the years into
some sort of sense after Lizzie’s revelations. ‘You’re not saying
Mal’s Jimmy’s son, are you?’

‘Of course not. Don’t be stupid, Frank, you
can count on your fingers as well as I can. Mal was born nine
months after Amy married Charlie, and he’s the image of his father,
anyway.’

‘What happened to the baby, then? Did she
lose it?’

‘Yes, she did. But not the way you mean it.’
Lizzie’s voice trembled a little. ‘That was before I’d had babies
myself, I didn’t understand it properly then. I thought it was a
good idea about her baby. I thought it was for the best.’

‘Hey, don’t get upset, Lizzie,’ Frank
soothed, stroking her arm.

‘You remember how I kept telling you she was
sick for months? That’s when she was with child. And then they sent
her up to Auckland, to get her out of sight. She had the baby, and
they made her give it away. Give
her
away—it was a little
girl.’ Frank heard Lizzie gulp back a sob.

‘That must have been hard on her, giving
away her baby.’

‘I think it just about broke her heart. She
had no fight left in her after that—she hadn’t had much even before
the baby was born, not after Aunt Susannah had had a good go at
her. Aunt Susannah arranged it all. She made Amy do it. She made
her marry Charlie.’

‘Why did she want her to do that?’