Mud and Gold (25 page)

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Authors: Shayne Parkinson

Tags: #family saga, #marriage, #historical fiction, #victorian, #new zealand, #farming, #nineteenth century, #farm life

BOOK: Mud and Gold
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‘Of course I won’t drop anything.’

‘Just be careful, she’s inclined to
wriggle.’ Lizzie brought their plates to the table, then took her
own seat and watched the two of them. ‘You’re going to spoil that
girl, aren’t you?’ she said, smiling at the sight.

‘No more than I do you.’ Frank grinned at
her.

‘Humph! Eat your dinner before it gets cold.
There’s strawberries and cream for pudding.’

Frank ploughed his way through roast lamb
followed by a huge pile of strawberries from Lizzie’s garden, then
leaned back in his chair to drink his tea, sipping it carefully to
avoid spilling a single drop on Maudie. The little girl’s eyelids
were drooping as she snuggled into the crook of his free arm. Frank
put both arms around her and squeezed. He looked across the table
to see Lizzie beaming back at him, and he thought he must be the
happiest man alive.

‘I’d better get a bit of material when we go
into town this week,’ Lizzie remarked idly. ‘I need a new
dress.’

‘Oh. How much will that cost?’

‘I’m not sure—I need about seven yards, I
suppose it’ll be a shilling a yard. I’ll just buy some cheap
cotton, it’s only a work dress.’ Frank felt his brow crease in
thought, and saw Lizzie frown at his expression. ‘Is that all
right, Frank?’

‘Hmm? Yes, yes, that’s fine. I was just
thinking about something.’ He tried to add up in his head just how
much of a bill he had run up in town since he had last settled his
accounts. He soon gave up; it was too hard to remember.

‘I could make this one do until next summer,
I suppose. It’s got a bit of a rip in the back, but I could put a
little patch on it—’

‘No! I don’t want you wearing patched
clothes, Lizzie. You can buy all the material you want.’

‘You’re sure? That’s all right, then. I can
probably get some for ninepence a yard if I rat around in the shop.
You could do with a new warm nightshirt before winter, too, I might
see if Mrs Nichol’s got any decent flannel.’

‘What about Maudie?’ Frank asked with a
laugh. ‘If we’re both getting new things you’d better make her
something, too.’

‘Oh, Maudie’s the best dressed of the lot of
us—all those fancy things Aunt Susannah’s mother sent from
Auckland. They’ve done Tom and George and Mal, they’re still not
worn out. I’ll have to give the littlest sizes back to Amy soon,
now she’s having another one.’

‘That Charlie doesn’t muck around, eh? They
only got married a couple of months before us, and they’re on their
second one already.’

‘Jealous?’ Lizzie asked with a wry
smile.

Frank gave a snort at the notion. How could
he be jealous of anyone when he had a wife and daughter like Lizzie
and Maudie? ‘Of course not. I just thought he’d be too old for all
that, that’s all.’

‘I think Amy wishes he was,’ Lizzie said,
more to herself than to Frank. For a moment she looked sad, then
her face set in determined lines. ‘But I can’t do anything for Amy
except be her friend. She’s been much happier since she had Mal,
too—much calmer, anyway.’

She leaned across and put her hand over
Frank’s where it rested on the table. ‘We’ll have more babies. Lots
and lots of them.’

‘You’re not worried about it, like you were
before we started Maudie?’

Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, not now I’m sure
we know what… I mean, I’m sure we can have babies. I’d rather have
a couple of years between them.’

‘Mmm.’ Frank gripped her hand more tightly.
‘Tired?’

‘A bit. It’s been really hot today.’

‘How about an early night, then?’

Lizzie gave his hand a playful slap. ‘Don’t
you ever think about anything else?’ she scolded, but the twinkle
in her eyes gave her away. ‘We’ll see. I’ve got a pile of mending
to do after I’ve done these dishes—’

‘I’ll help you with the dishes,’ Frank
offered. After all, if he was honest with himself he had not done a
lot of work that day.

‘Promise?’ She grinned at him. ‘I’ll still
have to do all that mending… well, some of it, anyway. And now I
really am going to put that child to bed.’ She walked around the
table and took the sleeping Maudie from Frank’s lap. He gave
Lizzie’s bottom a light pat as she turned away; she looked back
over her shoulder with an expression that made Frank quite sure
most of Lizzie’s mending would be left for another day.

Yes, Arthur took life too seriously, Frank
thought as he carried the dirty dishes to the bench. Why should he
waste his time worrying about a bit of fence or about the milk
cheque being a few shillings down when he had Lizzie and Maudie to
think about?

 

*

 

This time Amy was not going to risk giving
birth on the beach. As soon as she felt the first pangs of labour
she moved a large pot of soup off the heat of the range, thrust her
nightdress and some extra pairs of drawers into the bundle she had
had ready for several weeks, and made up a small parcel of clothes
for Malcolm, then took him by the hand and went in search of
Charlie.

‘It’s time,’ she told Charlie when she found
him checking the in-calf cows. ‘Can you take Mal to Pa’s?’ She
passed Malcolm’s clothes to Charlie, and knelt awkwardly to lower
herself to the little boy’s level.

‘Listen, Mal, you’re going to stay with
Grandpa and Aunt Susannah for a while.’ She saw his mouth move to
shape a determined ‘No’, and spoke hastily to prevent him. ‘You’ll
be able to play with Tommy and Georgie—you’ll like that, won’t
you?’

The idea of playing with the big boys
brought a smile to Malcolm’s face. ‘Yes!’ he said.

‘That’s the boy. Now, you be a good boy for
Aunt Susannah.’
She won’t put up with any nonsense
, Amy
added silently. ‘Papa will bring you to see me soon. Give Mama a
kiss.’

‘Uck,’ Malcolm said, twisting away from her
embrace. He went off with his father, and Amy made her slow way
back to the house to wait for Charlie to collect her.

I’m not frightened about it this
time
, Amy thought as Charlie drove her into town. In fact she
was looking forward to staying with Mrs Coulson.

When the nurse closed the door on Charlie
and turned to face her young patient, Amy found it easy to return
her smile.

‘Here we go again,’ Mrs Coulson said
cheerfully. ‘Now, let’s take a look at the business end of you,
then we’ll see how long we’ve got.’ She bustled Amy into the
familiar bedroom and soon had her in her nightdress and lying in
bed for the nurse to examine her.

‘When did the pains start, dear?’

‘Just this afternoon, about two hours ago,
that’s all. I haven’t felt any for a while though.’

‘I didn’t think so.’ Mrs Coulson lowered
Amy’s nightdress and sat on the bed beside her. ‘Well, my dear,’
she said, leaning close and giving Amy a conspiratorial smile, ‘you
and I are going to have a nice, quiet evening together. You’ve had
a bit of a false alarm.’

‘Oh, no!’ Amy said in dismay. ‘What am I
going to tell Charlie when he comes tomorrow?’

‘Don’t you worry about that,’ Mrs Coulson
said, patting her on the arm. ‘By the time he arrives I expect
you’ll be well away again, and I’ll just tell him to come back the
next day.’ She looked away from Amy and spoke in an apparently
offhand way. ‘Even if you haven’t started again, I probably won’t
let him see you tomorrow—unless you specially want him to, anyway.
See how you feel then.’

‘Thank you,’ Amy said, glad to have the
responsibility of dealing with Charlie’s possible disapproval taken
from her.

‘Now, you just lie there and enjoy taking
the weight off your feet, and I’ll make us a nice cup of tea, then
we’ll have a chat until it’s time for me to get dinner on. You can
tell me how that great big boy of yours is doing.’

‘I’ll help you with dinner if you like, now
the baby’s settled down.’

‘You certainly will not,’ Mrs Coulson said.
‘You look worn out, girl. You’ve been running around too much,
haven’t you?’

‘Well, more waddling than running,’ Amy
admitted. ‘Malcolm’s at a difficult sort of age, he takes a lot of
looking after.’ She did not add that it took all her imagination to
hide Malcolm’s naughtiness from Charlie.

‘I thought as much. You’re going to stay in
that bed and gather your strength for tomorrow. You can have a doze
before dinner, after we’ve had a chat.’

‘Oh, I don’t think I can sleep in the
daytime, I’m not used to—’

‘Now, my girl,’ Mrs Coulson interrupted,
wagging her finger in a mock scolding, ‘in my house you’ll do as I
say. And I say you’re to take things easy. Understand?’

‘Yes,’ Amy agreed meekly. She leaned her
head against Mrs Coulson’s shoulder and smiled up at her. ‘Thank
you.’

The nurse hugged at her. ‘You’ve a lovely
smile, my dear. A pity you don’t show it very often.’

Amy’s pains had not started again by the
following morning. Mrs Coulson let her get out of bed and sit in
the parlour, wearing her nightdress and with a knitted blanket over
her knees. When Charlie arrived Amy sat very quietly in the parlour
and listened to Mrs Coulson sending him away.

‘No, she’s not finished yet, I’m afraid, Mr
Stewart,’ the nurse said airily. ‘Everything’s going well, there’s
no need for you to worry, we’ll just let nature take its course.
Sometimes these things take a while. You don’t really want to see
her just now, do you?’ This last question was said in such a
dubious tone that Amy was not at all surprised when Charlie went
away without entering the house.

Amy got up from her armchair and peeked
through the lace curtains to watch Charlie ride away. ‘Maybe I
should have seen him,’ she said guiltily.

‘Nonsense,’ Mrs Coulson said. ‘You’ll see
him soon enough. Stop worrying about him and put your feet back on
that footstool. I want you properly rested up before we have to get
down to business.’

In the early evening the contractions
returned, this time so strong that there was no doubting they were
the real thing. Around midnight Mrs Coulson announced that things
were far enough advanced for Amy to have some chloroform. Amy
breathed gratefully at the chloroform-soaked cloth, welcoming the
numbness.

Sometime in the small hours of the next
morning, Amy struggled through the muffling darkness of the
anaesthetic and became aware of a warm bundle in her arms. She
half-opened her heavy eyes and saw a small creature with a mop of
dark hair.

‘Ann,’ she murmured in wonder. ‘My little
one.’

She held the baby close until she felt it
being lifted away from her. She tried to hold on, but her arms
would not obey her. ‘Don’t take her away,’ she begged. ‘Let me hold
her a bit longer. Please don’t take my baby away.’

‘Baby needs a sleep now,’ a soft voice said.
Amy knew she should recognise it, but her mind refused to supply a
name. ‘You should go to sleep, too. You’ve been working hard.’

‘Please,’ Amy whispered.

A hand brushed tears from Amy’s cheek. ‘All
right, darling, you can have a bit more of a cuddle. Just for a
minute, though.’ Amy lay back against the pillows with the baby on
her chest and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

When she opened her eyes again she saw
cracks of light through the drapes. This time she knew where she
was and who she was with. Mrs Coulson was sitting in a chair beside
the bed; she stood up and leaned over Amy as soon as she saw her
eyes open.

‘Is the baby all right?’ Amy asked.

‘As pretty a baby as a mother could wish,’
Mrs Coulson told her. ‘But I’m afraid he won’t be called Ann.’

Ann
. A pang of loss went through Amy.
‘I got a bit muddled. I thought it was a girl.’

Mrs Coulson bent over the cradle and lifted
the baby boy from it. ‘Have another cuddle, now you’re properly
awake.’

Amy opened her arms to hold the baby. ‘He is
pretty, isn’t he? He looks just like… just like a little girl.’

‘So he does, my dear,’ Mrs Coulson agreed.
‘It doesn’t really make any difference till they’re old enough to
wear trousers.’

‘I wanted another boy, really I did. A boy
to help Charlie.’

‘You’re a good girl. Don’t worry, you’ll
have a little girl to name after your mother one day.’

Amy shook her head. ‘No, I couldn’t do that.
I… never mind. I only want boys.’

‘Just as you say, dear,’ Mrs Coulson said.
Amy knew that the nurse was humouring her.

The chloroform had left Amy with a feeling
of nausea, and whenever she moved even slightly her body sent a
painful complaint. She was still weak and drowsy when Charlie
arrived later that morning.

‘You can come in for a minute, Mr Stewart,
but only if you’re very quiet,’ she heard Mrs Coulson saying from
the passage. ‘She’s very tired, and the little fellow’s asleep.’
The nurse led Charlie into the room and over to the cradle. Amy
tried to manage a smile for him, but for the moment Charlie had
eyes only for the baby. ‘There he is,’ Mrs Coulson said in a loud
whisper. ‘Your new son. A fine little fellow, isn’t he? Not so
little, either—nine pounds if he’s an ounce.’

Charlie stood over the cradle and looked
down at the sleeping baby. ‘He’s got black hair,’ he said in
surprise.

‘Yes, Mr Stewart. So has your wife, you may
have noticed.’

‘I thought he’d look like the boy,’ Charlie
said.

‘He’ll look like your wife, which means
he’ll be a lovely child. He’ll have your height, though—he’s quite
a lanky chap. I’d show you those long legs of his, except I don’t
want to disturb him.’

The nurse sat on the bed beside Amy and
stroked her hair. ‘Are you all right, dear? Having trouble keeping
your eyes open, aren’t you, darling?’

‘A bit,’ Amy admitted. ‘It’s another boy,
Charlie,’ she said, hoping for some sign of approval.

‘Aye,’ Charlie said, as if the thought that
the baby might not be a boy had never entered his head. He took a
proper look at Amy for the first time ‘What’s wrong with her?’ he
asked the nurse.

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