A Second Chance (20 page)

Perhaps it was best not to bother her mother
with it, she decided. Maisie, when asked her opinion, did not seem
to think it was anything to worry about.

‘I was nearly as old as you are before I got
mine,’ she told Beth. ‘The missus says it’s because I was so skinny
and all before I came here. I used to miss months with it when I
was your age.’

That eased Beth’s mind somewhat, though her
own bleeding had been regular for the past year. If Maudie had
still been at home, it might have been more useful to ask her
opinion. She would certainly have been ready enough to give it.

Beth remembered Maudie proudly claiming that
she was as regular as clockwork herself. Maudie had said that was
how she had known at once when…

A shudder went through her. That was how
Maudie had known she was going to have a baby.

Without ever considering the matter deeply,
Beth had assumed that people had babies because they decided to.
She had occasionally wondered why her parents had wanted to have so
many of them, but that was a mystery she had wasted little energy
on. Now it occurred to her that babies were simply the result of
what she and David had been spending so much time doing. And she
was going to be in more trouble than she had ever been in her
life.

‘You look like you’re going to be sick,’
Maisie said, frowning in concern.

‘I think I might.’ But she brushed aside
Maisie’s attempt to feel her forehead. ‘No, I’ll be all right. I
probably just had too many biscuits with Dave.’

‘You must be fed up, having to go over there
all the time. When’s his ma coming home?’

‘I don’t know,’ Beth said distractedly. ‘I
don’t know what’s happening about anything.’

She walked towards the house, heedless of
the questions Maisie called after her.

*

It was a long wait until the next morning,
when she could see David again. He ran to meet her as she slid from
the horse, his broad smile of welcome quickly wiped away when he
saw her expression.

‘What’s wrong? What’s happened?’

Beth’s words were lost in the helpless sobs
that convulsed her. David took her in his arms and held her close,
one hand rubbing her back, as she gradually calmed herself enough
to speak.

‘We’re in s-such t-trouble,’ she said, her
voice shaking. ‘I think I’m going to have a baby.’

She looked up at David’s face; to her
astonishment, the first emotion she saw there was delight.

‘A baby!’ he repeated in wonderment. Then,
as she watched, cold reality sank in. ‘We’re in trouble, all
right.’

But he was clearly less upset than she was
herself. He looked after the horse for her, then led her to the
house, his arm around her waist. He made her sit at the table while
he got a cup of tea ready, then dragged his chair close and held
her hand.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll look after you, whatever
happens. And they’ll have to let us get married now, that’s one
good thing. We’d better tell them straight away.’

‘No!’ Beth said in alarm. ‘No, let’s leave
it for a bit.’

‘Why?’

‘Well… what say I’m wrong?’ she said,
floundering for an excuse. ‘We’d get in all that trouble for
nothing.’

David frowned in confusion. ‘Can’t you tell
one way or the other? How do you know if you’re having one or
not?’

‘There’s things that happen. And then they
don’t happen.’ She looked down at the floor as she spoke.

‘Eh? What do you mean?’

Beth felt herself blushing. ‘There’s some
bleeding every month down
there
. When it stops coming,
that’s when you know you’re having a baby.’

With that said, she felt able to face him.
David looked startled. ‘I didn’t know that. Cows don’t have
anything like that. How long does it take to have a baby,
anyway?’

‘I don’t know exactly. With Ma, we could
always tell she was having one a few months before, but it probably
took us a while to notice. It seemed to be ages from when Maudie
said she was having a baby till Lucy was born.’

‘It takes nine months for a cow,’ David said
thoughtfully. ‘But cows are bigger, so they might take longer. When
do you think you’ll know for sure?’

‘I think I’m just about sure now,’ Beth
admitted. ‘But I don’t want to tell them yet, just in case I’m
wrong. Ma’s going to be so wild with me.’

‘We’d better not leave it too long, or
they’ll go finding out anyway. We’d get in worse trouble then. How
long do you want to wait?’

‘A month?’ Beth said hopefully, but David
shook his head.

‘We can’t leave it that long. You know we
can’t, Beth.’

‘I know.’ She took a deep breath, and
clutched at his hand for support. ‘A week, then. Let’s wait a week.
If I haven’t had the bleeding by then… well, we’ll just have to
tell them.’

*

Amy and Sarah dined in, then went upstairs
to get dressed for that evening’s outing. They were to attend a
concert, followed by supper.

‘Don’t wear anything too grand tonight,’
Sarah said. ‘It’s quite a modest occasion, and several of the
orphanage staff will be there—it’s something of a treat for them,
as well as a fund-raiser for the orphanage. Evening dress wouldn’t
really be appropriate—one of your visiting gowns will do
nicely.’

‘I might wear my blue dress,’ said Amy.
‘It’s so pretty now Mrs Stevenson’s remodelled it.’

With a light cape over her blue silk gown
and a warm cloak over that, Amy was comfortably warm during the
carriage ride to the church hall where the function was being
held.

‘These concerts can be quite dreadful,’
Sarah said. ‘I think the boys are chosen more for their enthusiasm
than any natural ability. But I have hopes of better things this
year—the orphanage has acquired a music teacher who comes highly
recommended.’ She smiled at Amy. ‘I recommended him myself.’

‘Mr Vincent? Oh, that was nice of you,
Sarah.’

Sarah laughed. ‘Call it self-interest. I’m
obliged to attend their concerts, after all. But really, I did feel
it was time the orphanage had a competent teacher for any boys who
show a real talent. One or two of the staff members can play the
piano, and they’ve done their best, but I’m sure they’ll all be
happier with an actual musician taking over the role. He’s only
engaged there two afternoons a week, but I imagine the steady
employment has eased his situation somewhat.’

Several carriages had already pulled up
outside the hall when Sarah and Amy arrived, and more people were
approaching on foot.

‘You’ll find a good deal more people attend
the supper than the concert,’ Sarah murmured as they made their way
to the door. ‘It’s amazing how many of them have commitments that
prevent their being here for the musical performances, but leave
them free for the more social part of the evening.’

‘Do you know many of these people?’ Amy
asked, looking around her.

‘Most of them by sight, at least.’ Sarah
leaned towards Amy and lowered her voice further. ‘I’d say you
could divide the guests into two parts—those with an actual
interest in the orphanage, and those who feel it might do their
reputations some good to be seen at such an event. You’ll find the
latter group well represented among those who only arrive in time
for the supper.’

As Sarah was a generous benefactor to the
orphanage, she and Amy were shown to seats in the front row. The
boys were energetic performers on a range of instruments, with
brass predominating. Despite a higher volume of sound than the hall
could comfortably accommodate, their efforts were rather better
than Amy had expected.

‘Mr Vincent has done wonders,’ Sarah
murmured in her ear as they applauded a piece. The man himself was
there, looking far less nervous, as well as better fed, than Amy
had last seen him. He conducted the performances, as well as
accompanying most of the pieces on his violin.

The final item was a song. Mr Vincent
introduced it, telling the audience that it was a recent
composition by the Auckland composer Miss Jean Farrell. Sarah
nudged Amy and tilted her head to indicate the far end of the row,
where Miss Farrell sat blushing and smiling in acknowledgment of
the polite burst of clapping that met Mr Vincent’s announcement. It
was a cheerful piece about walking in the mountains, and the boys
sang it with gusto. When they had finished, the applause was
enthusiastic and, as far as Amy could tell, genuine.

The boys were ushered off the stage, and the
guests went through to the supper room. As Sarah had predicted,
their numbers were soon swollen by people who had timed their
arrival to match the end of the concert. After a time the room
became quite crowded, and pleasantly warm. Amy excused herself from
a small group of guests and went out to the entryway to take off
her cape.

She hung it up with her cloak and slipped
back into the room. Looking around to find Sarah, she saw her at
the far end, at the centre of a knot of conversation. Instead of
going straight through the crowd to join her, Amy found a quiet
spot near the wall, from where she could study Sarah.

Sarah was talking animatedly, occasionally
waving a hand to emphasise a point she was making. Amy saw her gaze
dart about from time to time, and knew Sarah was looking for her.
She would join her in a moment; for now she was indulging in the
pleasure of watching her daughter.

People moved about, small groups forming and
drifting apart. As the group nearest her dissolved, Amy found
herself with a clear space before her that extended to the doorway.
Through it she saw that even more people had arrived, despite the
lateness of the hour. One of the newcomers towered above those
around him; as always when she saw a tall man, Amy thought of
David. Although she knew it could not be him, she gave the man a
second glance.

It was not David, of course. But there was
something oddly familiar about this man; something about his easy
smile and the set of his head. Something that made her uneasy.

As if aware of her scrutiny, the man glanced
over the head of the woman in front of him and looked straight at
Amy. His smile wavered, to be replaced by a puzzled expression. His
eyes widened, and his mouth opened to shape a single word:
‘Amy’.

She saw him exchange a few quick words with
the people around him; clearly making his excuses before moving
towards her. Amy’s mouth was dry. She stared about the room,
looking for a means of escape, but before she had taken more than a
step or two towards the nearest door he had crossed the space
between them and stood before her.

‘My God, Amy! It
is
you!’ said
Jimmy.

Amy darted quick glances around the room,
trying to see who might be watching them. She did not want to be
seen; most of all, she did not want Sarah to see her talking to
Jimmy.

‘Go away,’ she murmured under her breath.
‘Just go away.’

‘We have to talk,’ he said in a low voice.
‘Talk properly, I mean—we can’t do that here. Where can I see
you?’

‘Nowhere. Leave me alone.’

‘Where are you staying?’ Jimmy persisted.
‘Are you in a boarding house? I’ll come and see you there.’

‘No! I don’t want to see you. I don’t want
to talk to you. Go away.’

‘Come on, Amy, don’t make a fuss. People
will notice.’ Amy looked around and saw that they were indeed
attracting curious stares from the people nearest them. ‘Just tell
me where I can see you, and I’ll leave you alone for now.’ He
glanced over his shoulder, and turned back grimacing. ‘She’s
spotted us. Hurry up, for God’s sake!’

For a moment Amy thought “she” must refer to
Sarah. She quickly realised Jimmy could not possibly mean her, but
she was shaken by the inference, as well as by the urgency in his
voice. ‘All right, you can meet me in Albert Park. I can be there
tomorrow afternoon.’

‘Yes, the park. Good idea.’ Jimmy cast
another glance over his shoulder. ‘Let’s meet by the fountain. What
time?’

Amy knew that Sarah would be out for much of
the afternoon, so it would be easy for her to leave the house
without having to explain herself. ‘Four o’clock.’

‘I’ll be there. Amy,’ he said, looking
intently at her, ‘promise me you’ll come.’

Amy stared back, stunned that he could say
such a thing to her. ‘I’ve said I will. You’ve no reason to doubt
me.’

Before he had a chance to reply, Amy was
aware of a woman gliding up to them.

‘Why, Jimmy, how engrossed you are,’ the
woman said. She had a full, rich voice, but there was an
unmistakably sharp edge to it. ‘Aren’t you going to introduce me to
your friend?’

Jimmy turned to her, his face abruptly
schooled into a bland expression.

‘Of course, my dear. Amy,’ he said, turning
back to her for a moment, ‘this is Mrs Taylor. Charlotte, this is…
well, actually she’s my niece,’ he said with a smile. ‘This is Miss
Leith.’

‘Mrs Stewart,’ Amy said quickly. She saw
Jimmy glance at her, startled. ‘I was Miss Leith when I met Mr
Taylor, but my late husband’s name was Stewart.’ Summoning all her
self-control, she made herself look into the woman’s face with what
she hoped was an appearance of calm as she extended her hand. ‘How
do you do, Mrs Taylor.’

Charlotte Taylor would have turned heads in
Ruatane; even in this elegant setting she cut a striking figure.
She was tall, with a statuesque build and an impressive bosom that
Amy found was uncomfortably near her own eye level. Her gown was of
pale green silk, with bands of matching lace draped over the bodice
and wound around the skirt in a long spiral down to a wider band at
the hem. A row of dusky pink silk blooms edged the low-cut
neckline, and a necklace of green stones set in gold rose and fell
with each breath. Charlotte had blonde hair done in an elaborate
style, features that could have been chiselled in marble, and light
blue eyes that were currently narrowed slightly as she studied Amy.
She gave Amy’s hand the briefest of touches before withdrawing her
own.