Mud and Gold (30 page)

‘Not a girl!’ George protested.

‘Why don’t you want to climb the tree, then?
Sissy,’ Bobby taunted.

Marion stopped talking to Susannah in
mid-sentence. ‘Bobby, are you teasing those little boys?’ she
called, a warning note in her voice.

‘No, Ma! I’m just trying to get them to
climb the tree—I think they’re too scared.’

‘We’re not scared of your stupid tree!’
Thomas said, indignant at the slight. We’ve got much bigger trees
at home, I can climb them all. But Mama said we mustn’t get
dirty.’

‘Mama said,’ Bobby repeated in a mincing
voice. ‘Mama said the little girls mustn’t get dirty. Where’s your
hair ribbons, little girls?’

This was too much. With a cry of rage,
Thomas threw himself at the older boy, the force of his unexpected
assault knocking Bobby flat despite the difference in height and
weight. He was on Bobby’s chest and pummeling him with clumsy blows
before Bobby recovered enough to roll Thomas over and push him hard
against the ground, winding him and giving Bobby the chance to get
back on his feet. George tried to grab Bobby round the knees, but a
shove from Bobby knocked the four-year-old sprawling.

‘You leave my brother alone!’ Thomas
screamed, scrambling to his feet and making an awkward attempt to
swing a punch at Bobby, which the older boy easily warded off.

Susannah and Marion rushed from the verandah
and dragged the combatants apart before they could engage
again.

‘You wicked boys!’ Susannah slapped her sons
across the side of the head, her cheeks crimson with rage. ‘Rolling
in the dirt like… like common little brats.’ She slapped them again
and shook them by their collars.

‘Now, don’t get upset, Susannah. It’s
Bobby’s fault, he was teasing them,’ Marion said, glaring at her
son.

‘I wasn’t! I only said—’

‘I heard what you said,’ Marion interrupted.
‘Teasing those little boys—they’re visitors, too. Bob!’ she called.
‘Come here and sort your son out. Fighting like that—on a Sunday,
too.’

‘Two against one, though, Marion,’ Bob
pointed out, walking towards them without any apparent hurry.

‘And he’s twice their age, so that evens it
up,’ Marion retorted.

‘That’s true enough,’ Bob said. ‘Come on,
Bobby, you and I are going to take a little walk.’

Bobby watched his father approaching and
glanced around quickly as if weighing his options. He slipped from
Marion’s grasp and took to his heels, disappearing around the side
of the house.

‘The little brat!’ Marion said, the
amusement in her eyes matching Bob’s. ‘Never mind, his stomach will
drive him back before long, you can sort him out then.’

‘Yes, he’ll keep,’ Bob agreed.

‘Don’t take any notice of what my silly son
told you,’ Marion said to Thomas and George. They looked up at her,
both whimpering quietly from their mother’s slaps. ‘He’s just
jealous because he hasn’t got such nice clothes. Don’t be too hard
on them,’ she said, turning to Susannah. You can’t expect them to
just take it when a bigger boy makes fun of them.’

‘I
do
expect them to behave
properly,’ Susannah said, a spot of red still showing in each
cheek. ‘They should behave like young gentlemen—especially you,
Thomas. You’re old enough to be looking after your little brother,
not teaching him to be rough and coarse. Look what you’ve done to
your clothes!’ Thomas’s trousers had a large rent in the seat, and
his left sleeve was flapping loosely where it had been ripped out
of the armhole. George had managed to do no worse than get dust all
over his own suit. ‘Ruined! Just ruined, and Grandmama only sent
them at Christmas. You’re a horrible little monster. You know what
Papa’s going to do with you when we get home?’

She knelt down to spell out whatever the
awesome punishment was to be in a voice too low for Amy to catch,
but her words had the desired effect. Both boys began to howl.

‘I can’t stand the sight of you,’ Susannah
said, rising to her full height. ‘Go and stand by the buggy till
we’re ready to leave. And stop that silly noise. Hurry up!’ She
gave them both a push towards the buggy. The boys ran off together,
still sobbing.

‘They’re just being boys, Susannah,’ Marion
said, a look of concern on her kindly face.

‘I think it was my boy who started it,
really,’ Bob added.

‘I expect better of my sons,’ Susannah said,
making her stately way back to the verandah. ‘They have to learn.
I’m bringing them up to take a proper place in the world, not
behave like animals.’ She took her seat near Amy once again.

By this time Jack had wandered over to talk
to Amy, and they had both witnessed the scene between Susannah and
the little boys.

‘Those children misbehaved terribly, Jack,’
Susannah said. ‘I’m very disappointed in them, showing me up in
company like that. You’ll have to punish them later.’

‘You’ve already made a pretty good job of
that,’ Jack said ruefully, looking over at the little boys sitting
in the shade of the buggy with an arm around each other’s shoulders
and tears running down their faces.

‘Nonsense! I told them you’ll give them a
good thrashing as soon as we get home, then I’m going to put them
straight to bed without any dinner.’

‘A thrashing just for a bit of rough and
tumble? They’re boys, Susannah. You’ve got to expect them to get
into scrapes.’

‘They disgraced me, and I won’t tolerate
that. I told them you’d thrash them, Jack. They’ll never learn to
do as I say if you go against me—that would just teach them to play
us off against each other. You do see that, don’t you?’

Jack sighed. ‘Yes, I see it. Well, we’d
better get on home, then. No sense making the little fellows worry
about it any longer than they have to.’

‘We’ll leave when I’ve finished my tea,’
Susannah said, reaching for the cup she had abandoned to interrupt
the fight.

‘I’ll have a bit of a walk, then. I need to
stretch my legs,’ Jack said, rising slowly. Amy was sure it was to
escape from the sight of the unhappy little boys.

‘Can I come with you, Pa?’ she asked.
‘Davie’s getting a bit restless, a walk will settle him.’ Jack
smiled an invitation. Before she walked down the steps Amy took
care to catch Charlie’s eye so that he could see she was with her
father.

‘I’ve got soft, girl,’ Jack said as soon as
they were out of earshot. ‘I’ve no appetite for beating children.
Must be getting old, eh?’

‘You’re not old, Pa,’ Amy protested.
‘Anyway, I’m soft too, and I’m only nineteen. I hate it when
Charlie hits Mal, even though I know he needs it.’

Jack smiled at her. ‘You’re like your ma.
“Don’t be hard on them, Jack, they’re not really naughty,” she used
to say—even with Harry, and he could be a real little brute. Hard
to believe he’s the same boy,’ he said, looking back at Harry
hovering solicitously around Jane, adjusting a pillow behind his
wife’s shoulders.

‘I don’t think Granny ever got very soft.
She gave me plenty of hidings. I always deserved it, though—I
didn’t always think so at the time, I suppose.’

Jack glanced towards the little boys just
before he and Amy walked behind a shed, cutting them off from
sight. ‘I don’t know, it’s different with the little fellows than
it ever was with the other two. Harry especially—he needed twice
the hidings John did, and when he knew he was going to get one he’d
say “I don’t care,” and try to stare me out. Then after I’d given
him a couple of whacks he’d be bawling and saying he was sorry,
he’d never do it again. You could feel you were doing the boy some
good. George isn’t too bad, nothing bothers him for long, but Tom…
as soon as he knows he’s in trouble he looks up at me with tears in
those big eyes of his and says “I’m sorry, Papa, I didn’t mean to
be naughty.” He means what he says, too, you can see it in his
face. I feel like giving the poor little fellow a hug instead of a
hiding—of course I can’t do that. Susannah’s right, it’s no good
her saying one thing and me saying another.’

‘I know, Pa. I know just what you mean,’ Amy
said fervently.

‘Well, she should have finished that tea of
hers. Let’s head back to the house.’

Jack and Susannah left soon afterwards, and
Amy could see that Charlie would soon be ready to go. She would
have liked the chance to spend a little time with John, but Martha
Carr was still chattering away, so Amy made do with saying a brief
goodbye to him in front of the Carr sisters.

‘That’s a pretty dress, Sophie,’ Amy said,
stroking the wide lace around Sophie’s cuffs. The dark green of the
dress minimised Sophie’s overly buxom figure, and set off her pale
skin nicely.

‘Thanks,’ Sophie said, smiling vaguely at
Amy.

‘I chose that material,’ Martha put in.
‘Sophie can never decide anything. I always have to help her choose
things.’

Amy doubted that Sophie ever had the chance
to decide for herself, but she made a noncommittal murmur as
response. ‘Bye bye, John, see you next Sunday.’ She turned to hurry
after Charlie, who was already making for the gig with Malcolm at
his heels.

‘I’d better be off, too. I’ll walk you to
the gate,’ John said, rising from the bench.

‘Are you going, John? Ma, John’s going,’
Martha said anxiously, but Mrs Carr had already moved to intercept
him.

‘It’s been lovely seeing you today, John,’
she gushed. ‘You young ones getting on so nicely together. You
know, we hardly ever see you to talk to—I know!’ she said, as if
the idea had only this moment struck her. ‘Why don’t you come for
tea one night? You’d enjoy a good meal, wouldn’t you?—oh, not that
Susannah’s not a good cook, I’m sure, but a change does no harm,
does it? My girls are both fine cooks, though I say so myself.
Martha does a wonderful roast dinner. These long summer evenings,
you’d have plenty of time to get home before it was too dark.’

Amy wondered how John would manage to
extricate himself from Mrs Carr’s invitation without being rude.
She caught his eye for a moment and almost thought she saw him
wink, then he turned a wide smile on Mrs Carr.

‘That’d be nice, thanks.’

Mrs Carr did not waste time pressing home
her advantage. ‘What about this Wednesday night?’ she pounced.

‘All right. I’ll see you on Wednesday.’

‘We’ll all look forward to it. Won’t we,
girls?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Martha agreed. Sophie just
smiled.

‘What are you up to, John?’ Amy asked when
they were out of earshot. ‘You know what Mrs Carr’s after, don’t
you?’

‘No. What?’ John asked, feigning innocence.
He grinned at her. ‘I’d have to be pretty dopey not to catch on. I
don’t mind playing along with it, though—might get a decent meal
out of it, anyway. I wonder if they make bread you don’t have to
break your teeth to get into?’

‘I expect so. Do you… do you like Martha,
John?’

‘She’s all right.’ John gave her a wicked
grin. ‘Ask me again after I’ve tried her roast dinner!’

April – August 1888

Amy and Lizzie were so deep in conversation
over their teacups when Frank opened the back door that they hardly
looked up at his entrance.

‘Well, he’s never got much to say for
himself, I suppose he thinks she could do the talking for him—she’s
pretty good at that,’ Lizzie said. ‘Not down there, Frank, put that
baking powder on the top shelf.’

Amy waited until Frank went outside again
before she replied. ‘Like you and Frank, you mean? That’s what
everyone said about you two, you know. That’d be all very well if
she talked sense. It’s just chatter. You’d think it’d drive him
mad.’

‘Some men like not having to think for
themselves—not that I’m saying Frank’s like that. Just because he
doesn’t make a big song and dance about himself, people think he’s
a bit dim. Frank’s not dim at all.’

‘Neither is John. He just keeps his mind to
himself. I don’t think Martha would let him keep anything to
himself, though.’

‘Do you really think he might want to marry
her?’

Amy frowned thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know.
When I ask him why he keeps going there all the time he just grins
and says it’s the good food.’

‘Hmm. John’s so quiet, Martha might have to
propose to him herself.’

‘That’s what people said—’

‘I know,’ Lizzie interrupted. ‘And I’ll have
you know it’s not true. Frank proposed all by himself, I hardly had
to push him at all.’

‘Mmm, I bet he even thought it was his own
idea.’

‘He still does.’ Lizzie answered Amy’s smile
with a grin of her own.

‘Who are you two old gossips pulling to
bits?’ Frank asked as he came back into the house and closed the
door behind him.

‘John. And we’re not pulling him to bits,
just discussing his future,’ Lizzie said. ‘Here, Maudie, go to
Papa.’ The little girl slid off what was left of Lizzie’s lap and
ran across the kitchen to Frank. He lifted her high in the air
before sitting down with her on his knee.

‘Him and Martha, eh? Mr Carr was saying the
other day that his wife’s had her eye on John for a while. It
smells nice in here.’

‘Amy’s done a big lot of baking for me,
she’s filled up all the tins,’ Lizzie said. ‘It takes me all my
time just to do the ordinary cooking now I’m such a lump.’

Amy slipped David from her lap and onto the
floor. ‘I’ll get you a cup of tea, Frank.’ She brought him the cup,
along with some biscuits to sample, then sat and took up her own
half-full cup again.

‘Nice biscuits,’ Frank said through a
mouthful. ‘I saw Charlie at the store with Mal, by the way, I don’t
think they’ll be far behind me.’

Amy put her cup down at once, rattling it
noisily against the saucer. ‘I’d better go,’ she said, taking off
the apron she was wearing and hanging it behind the door. ‘Come on,
Davie, Papa will be here in a minute.’