Sentence of Marriage (5 page)

Amy had no idea how many plates the Kellys possessed, but she was sure a large portion of them must be on the table, and most of the rest on the bench. The plates on the table jostled for space with several heavy saucepans, all with spoons or forks inside.

‘Haven’t done the dishes for a while,’ Frank said unnecessarily. ‘Would you like to sit down?’ He pulled out a chair, then shoved it quickly back under the table, but not before Amy had seen what was obviously a pair of combinations draped over the seat; probably waiting to be mended, judging from the large rent in the back. Another chair was graced with a pair of socks. Frank pulled these off and threw them towards the door, where his boots were lying against each other.

‘What about a cup of tea? The teapot’s here somewhere.’ He lifted the newspapers that were spread over the table among the plates, and sprang with relief on an old enamel teapot.

‘That would be lovely,’ Lizzie said, to Amy’s horror. ‘Where shall we put these?’ She indicated the pies she and Amy still held.

‘Oh, yes, thank you.’ Frank took the pies and looked around for a clear space to put them. Lizzie obligingly stacked some plates together on the bench, and Frank put the pies down. ‘Hey, these look good!’

‘I hope you enjoy them,’ Lizzie said sweetly.

‘Ah, perhaps you’d rather have it in the parlour,’ Frank said, looking anxiously around the room.

‘If you like,’ said Lizzie.

‘Hey, Lizzie,’ Bill put in, ‘I can’t stay here all day, you know.’

‘It won’t take long,’ Lizzie said, casting a threatening look at him.

At that moment the back door opened, and they all turned to see Ben walk in. He stood and stared at the apparition of strangers in his kitchen. There was a long silence; even Lizzie was not bold enough to speak. Then he looked at Frank and said in a tone of utter disgust, ‘Women!’ With that he turned on his heel and left the house, slamming the door behind him.

‘Sorry about that,’ Frank said after an awkward pause. ‘Ben’s not used to visitors.’

‘Perhaps we should go,’ Amy said hesitantly.

‘No, no,’ Frank said, looking as though he wished they would. ‘You must have a cup of tea first.’

They let him usher them through to the parlour. ‘It’s a bit tidier in here,’ said Frank.

It was indeed tidier, and Amy could guess the reason: the room had obviously not been used in years. It was dim until Frank pulled back the drapes, revealing layers of dust on all the wooden surfaces. Frank opened a window, which disturbed the dust. Amy coughed.

‘Sorry, it’s a bit dusty in here,’ said Frank. ‘We don’t use this room much.’

‘Don’t you?’ Lizzie asked in apparent surprise. ‘But it’s a lovely room.’

Amy decided Lizzie was being sincere, so she looked around the room more carefully. Yes, it was rather a nice room; quite large, with a beautiful view down the valley. The furniture was old but solid, and the fine-looking mirror over the mantelpiece only wanted cleaning to look beautiful.

Frank ran his sleeve over a pretty little rimu table, transferring much of the dust to his shirt. ‘I’ll bring it in, you wait here.’

‘Oh, I’ll help,’ said Lizzie. She was out the door before Frank had a chance to protest. Left alone, Bill and Amy looked at each other, grinned, then burst into helpless laughter.

‘Do you think we should go back out there to protect Lizzie?’ Amy said between giggles.

‘I know who
I
think needs more protecting,’ Bill chuckled.

They could faintly hear the sounds of a one-sided conversation until Lizzie returned, carrying a tray with tea things, Frank following at her heels. She poured for them all, clearly enjoying the role of hostess she had appropriated. ‘How do you like your tea, Frank?’ she asked, looking intently at him as though the question was of vital interest to her.

Frank cleared his throat. ‘Ah, just as it comes, thanks.’ Lizzie rewarded him with a smile.

Bill drank his tea quickly, then rose to his feet. ‘We’d better be going. We really had, Lizzie,’ he said, forestalling her protest. ‘Pa’ll go crook if I’m not back for milking.’

Frank saw them out, and waved from the door. Amy thought he looked relieved. ‘Thanks for the pies,’ he called as they drove away.

‘So you’re roping me in to help you manhunting,’ Bill said when they were out of earshot. ‘You could give me fair warning next time.’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m sure,’ Lizzie said, looking prim. ‘I was just taking Ben and Frank a present from Ma.’ Amy saw her prim expression relax into a smug smile.

*

‘It’s about time Pa got back,’ John said at breakfast the next Friday. Only a few of the cows were still in calf by this time.

‘We’ll be milking the whole herd by the end of next week, I’d say. That’ll be a beggar with just the two of us,’ Harry said.

‘He won’t be away much longer, I shouldn’t think,’ said Amy. ‘I thought he would have been home by now, really.’

The days went quickly, and the following Thursday Amy was surprised to realise almost another week had passed. That morning she went into town with Harry.

They collected the mail from the Post and Telegraph Office while their supplies were being loaded into the buggy. ‘There’s a cable from Auckland,’ Harry said.

‘It must be from Pa! What does it say?’

‘Give us a chance to open it… damn!’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘He says he won’t be back for another two weeks! Damn and blast the old…’ Harry remembered Amy’s presence. ‘I mean, it’s a bit rough, leaving the farm for that long, when he knows we’re flat out with milking and everything. Damn it, we’ll have to organise selling the calves we don’t want soon.’

‘I hope he’s not ill.’

‘No, he says he’s “very well indeed”. See for yourself.’

Amy read the cable and found it was just as Harry had reported. ‘That’s really strange.’

‘I can think of another word for it,’ Harry muttered.

John was as dumbfounded as Harry and Amy over their father’s truancy. They received another cable at the end of August to tell them Jack would be arriving on the following Thursday.

‘He expects us to come and get him, of course,’ Harry said.

‘Well, he can’t walk all this way, can he?’ said Amy. ‘You’d better go in and fetch him, John,’ she added, thinking it might be sensible to put off Harry’s reunion with Jack. ‘I’ll come with you.’

She and John drove in together after lunch on the second Thursday in September. The tide was only an hour past full, so they took the rough inland track instead of going along the beach.

‘Should be all right to come back along the sand,’ John said as they jolted over the rutted surface.

‘Good!’ Amy said jerkily.

The day was overcast, with a chilly breeze; when they ascended the last hill before reaching town they saw that the sea looked grey and sombre, with a heavy swell.

‘He’ll have had a rough trip,’ John remarked.

Amy hurried onto the wharf while John hitched the horses. She saw that the
Staffa
had already tied up, and she looked eagerly for a sight of her father, but he was nowhere to be seen among the knot of passengers milling about on the deck.

‘Look at that,’ John said quietly as he came up behind her. ‘That fancy piece waiting for someone to help her along the gangplank.’

Amy followed his gaze. ‘Oh, what a vision of loveliness!’ she said, smothering a giggle.

The woman who had attracted John’s attention was immediately obvious among the other travellers. Not for any particular beauty; her mouth was too thin, her features too sharp and her nose too long for that, though she was tall and slim; almost bony, Amy thought.

But her travelling costume was clearly designed for more sophisticated surroundings than Ruatane Wharf. It was of dark green wool, with contrasting buttons and cuffs in bright red, and it had what seemed to Amy an astonishing number of tucks and gathers. The frill around her hooded cape was of the same red, and it ended in a broad ribbon that came down her back until it rested on a slight bustle. Her hat was trimmed with a green ostrich feather, and red roses that Amy thought might be of velvet. To complete the picture, the woman was looking over her fellow passengers with an obvious sense of her own superiority.

Amy’s attention was caught by a new movement on the deck. ‘It’s Pa!’ she said excitedly. ‘Pa!’ she called out.

Jack recognised them and waved, then to their surprise he took the vision’s arm and led her up the gangplank.

‘She must have been fluttering her eyelashes at him,’ John murmured.

‘John! He’s just being a gentleman,’ Amy said, trying not to laugh. As her father approached them, Amy noticed that the woman’s face had a delicate green tinge that toned in with her costume.

‘Well, here we are at last,’ Jack said, a foolish grin on his face. Amy wanted to throw her arms around him, but she felt awkward under the vision’s gaze. ‘You’re both here, that’s good. I want you to meet,’ he took hold of the woman’s hand and slipped her arm through his,

‘Mrs Leith—my wife.’

Amy stared at him, certain she must have misheard.

‘Amy,’ Jack said, taking her arm and pulling her closer, ‘aren’t you going to kiss your new mother?’

September 1881

The four of them stood on the wharf looking at one another; John and Amy in utter shock, Jack grinning stupidly, and the vision’s expression changing from a bright smile to a look of embarrassment. Amy realised that her mouth was hanging open; she shut it abruptly.

The woman turned to Jack. ‘You did tell them about us, didn’t you, dear? You did say you’d write and tell them.’

Jack shuffled his feet and looked at the ground before meeting his wife’s eyes. ‘Well, I meant to. But when it came to it… I just couldn’t think how to put it. I knew they’d be pleased as anything when they met you, so I thought I’d just let it be a surprise…’ He trailed off awkwardly.

‘You can certainly see it’s a surprise,’ the vision said. ‘Well, I’m here. You must be John? Surely you’re the oldest one?’ John looked at her dumbly, still too amazed to speak; when Amy nudged him in the ribs he recovered himself enough to nod. ‘And
this
is little Amy.’ She turned her gaze on Amy, and her smile wavered. ‘You’re older than I expected from the way your father spoke.’

She shot a look at Jack, who put his arm around Amy’s waist and gave her a squeeze. ‘That’s because she’s my little girl. Come on, Amy, say hello to your ma.’

‘Hello,’ Amy said dutifully.

‘I think you’re both a little too old to call me Mama,’ the vision said. ‘You can call me… well, I suppose you’d better just call me by my name. I’m Susannah.’ She removed her arm from Jack’s and extended her hand; first John then Amy shook it.

‘That doesn’t seem right, calling you by your name like that, Susie,’ Jack said, frowning slightly.

‘It’s Susannah, dear,’ Susannah said in the tone of one who has repeated the same words more than once. ‘I can’t have a grown man like this calling me Mother.’ She indicated John with a dramatic gesture.

‘Well, maybe… but Amy should.’

‘Whatever you say dear,’ Susannah said, smiling sweetly at her husband.

‘Let’s get you home, then,’ Jack said cheerfully.

‘Oh, yes, I’m so looking forward to seeing it all,’ Susannah gushed. ‘The countryside is so pretty, isn’t it? And it’s such a relief to be off that horrible ship.’ She shuddered, and cast a look of loathing over her shoulder at the steamer.

‘Take one of these trunks, boy,’ said Jack. ‘I’ll take this one, and you can come back for the last one.’ They hefted the heavy-looking trunks and carried them over to the buggy, along with Jack’s modest case.

‘You sit in the back, my dear,’ Jack said, gallantly offering his arm to help Susannah into the buggy. ‘John can drive, then I can point things out to you.’

‘I don’t think we can fit all this stuff in, Pa,’ John said, finding his voice again at last.

‘Of course we can,’ said Jack. ‘Put this trunk in the front, my case can go between you two, there’s room for this one behind us… hmm, you’re right, we can’t fit this last one in. Never mind, we can leave it in the cargo shed overnight and pick it up tomorrow.’

‘Couldn’t you just come straight back and get it, Jack?’ Susannah asked. ‘I do need all my things right away.’

‘It’s a bit far for that, Mrs L.’ Jack laughed at the notion. ‘It’ll be safe enough here, don’t you worry.’ Susannah obviously was worried, but she said nothing as Jack sent John over to the cargo shed with the last trunk.

Amy had to put her feet on one of the trunks, and it was so high that she found herself perched awkwardly on the seat, but she was too busy trying to adjust to the fact of her father’s new wife to take much notice.

‘Oh, what a pretty little town it is,’ Susannah said as they drove through Ruatane. ‘Not many shops, of course, but a few nice little ones—I see a milliner’s there—and the gardens around all the houses are sweet. I suppose you come in here most days?’