Authors: Shayne Parkinson
Tags: #family saga, #marriage, #historical fiction, #victorian, #new zealand, #farming, #nineteenth century, #farm life
‘I said you weren’t going to that woman
again. I don’t care for her, she’s no idea how to speak
decently.’
‘Please, Charlie, please!’ Amy begged, her
voice cracking with the effort. ‘She’ll look after me. She’ll make
it stop hurting. I’m going to die. I don’t want it to hurt when I
die.’
‘Hush! There’s no need to speak like that.’
He was silent for a moment. ‘All right, you can have the woman. She
knows her work, even if she’s an interfering bitch. But you can’t
lie on the floor.’ He put one arm under her head and the other
under her knees and lifted her easily. After one loud scream, Amy
fell into a half-swoon till he had laid her on the bed.
She was aware of Charlie standing over her,
but it hurt too much to open her eyes. ‘You’ll be all right while
I’m gone?’ he asked. ‘The child won’t come till the nurse is
here?’
‘I don’t know. I don’t think it’ll take
long. There’s blood coming out now, I can feel it. Please hurry,
Charlie. But… but where are the boys?’
‘Outside. Dave came running down to the cow
shed yelling his head off—I couldn’t understand a word of it. Mal
said he was telling me you were ill. I told them to stay put down
there. Shall I take them to your pa’s?’
Amy forced herself to think, though thinking
made her head hurt. ‘Yes, take them over there. Take them now.
Bring Mrs Coulson. Bring her soon. Hurry!’
‘I’ll go like the devil was after me,’ he
said grimly. A door closed, and Amy knew she was alone again.
Waves of agony came at random, convulsing
her body in a way unlike any birth pangs Amy could remember. At
times she seemed to be floating above the pain as if it hardly
belonged to her; at other times it seemed larger than her body
could hold.
You’re going to kill me, baby. You and me are going
to die together
. Her thoughts travelled their own jumbled route
to the other baby she had thought would kill her in the bearing. It
hadn’t killed her. But she had been in a nursing home then, with a
woman who knew what she was doing even if she took pleasure in the
cruelty of it.
I wish I could have seen you again before I die,
Ann. I wish I could know if you’re happy
.
In a kind of calm that settled over her
during an interval between bouts of pain, Amy heard the door
opening and a woman’s light tread coming through the house.
Mrs
Coulson? No, it’s too soon. Who?
‘Amy?’ A voice made thin with apprehension.
‘Where are you?’
Susannah. Why her?
Amy lay quiet and
let Susannah find her own way to the bedroom.
‘Oh, here you are.’
The time spent lying very still on the bed
had given Amy strength enough to speak. ‘What are you doing here,
Susannah?’
‘I’ve come to look after you, of course.
Your father said to—I wanted to, anyway. You need a woman with
you.’
‘Where are my boys? Have you brought them
with you?’
‘You don’t want them to see you while you’re
in this state, do you? You look dreadful.’
‘Where are my boys, Susannah?’
‘Why?’
‘Because I’m going to scream with the pain
in a minute, and I don’t want to frighten them. Where are
they?’
‘They’re with your father. He said—’ Amy’s
scream interrupted her. When it died away, Susannah was quiet for
some time. ‘What do you want me to do for you, Amy?’ she asked at
last, her voice quavering.
‘Nothing. Go away.’
‘Don’t be silly. I can’t leave you in this
state. Shall I… shall I have a look at you?’ She pulled back the
covers Charlie had placed over Amy, and gave a little scream.
‘There’s blood everywhere!’
‘I know. Leave me alone. I don’t want you
touching me.’
‘I should undress you or something, but I… I
don’t want to hurt you.’ Susannah covered Amy’s limbs again. ‘I’ll
just sit with you, shall I? I’ll keep you company till the nurse
comes.’ She reached for Amy’s hand and patted it, but Amy pulled it
away.
‘I don’t want you here, Susannah. I don’t
want you to watch me dying. I’d sooner be by myself.’
‘Now, you mustn’t talk like that! There’s no
need to say such dreadful things. You’re not dying—you’re a strong,
young girl having a baby. You’ll be right as rain in no time.’
‘What do you know about it?’ Amy spat out
the words.
‘Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve had two children
myself, and I think I suffered as much as any woman. That’s why
I’ve come to look after you. I’m older than you, I know more about
such things.’
‘Do you? Have you felt the pain like it was
going to split you in half? I’ve felt that once. It’s starting
again now.’ She tilted her head back to scream the louder, but
screaming brought no relief beyond not having to listen to
Susannah. The pain died away, but not the memories it dragged up.
‘It hurts you till you think you’re going to die. Then there’s a
little baby, and you love her all the more for the pain she cost
you. Then they take the baby away. That’s what happens. It’s no
good loving her. They take her away. It’s better if you die.’
‘Stop that, Amy. Don’t say such things. You
feel terrible, I know, but it’ll pass. You’ll feel well again
soon.’
‘Will I? This is the third baby I’ve given
Charlie. I’m still doing my duty, Susannah. I can’t decide I’ll
stop doing it. I can’t tell him two sons is duty enough. Why was it
enough for you?’
‘It’s none of your business. That’s between
your father and I.’
‘Why, Susannah? Why?’ Amy persisted.
‘Because… because I’m a decent woman,’
Susannah snapped. ‘I’ve had my share of that horrible business with
men. I didn’t choose to do it like you did. I only did it when I
had to.’
‘I thought I was decent, too. I thought that
was part of the bargain. If I married Charlie I’d be decent instead
of what you called me. Now he calls me that instead. And I have to
go on having babies till I die.’
‘Stop talking about dying! Women have babies
every day, you’re no different. And anyway, you’ll be too old to
have them one day. You’ll only be fruitful till you’re forty or
so.’
‘Till I die,’ Amy repeated. ‘I’m not good at
having babies, for all I get with child so easily. But I’ve got to
keep on having them till I die.’
‘Oh, I can’t bear to listen to you going on
like that! I will leave you alone if that’s what you want!’
Susannah stormed out of the room, slamming the door after her.
A few screams later she crept back and sat
beside Amy again. ‘Is it getting worse, Amy?’
‘Yes. And it’ll get worse than this.’
You’re fighting me, baby. Because I fell over and hurt you.
You’re trying to tear your way out of me instead of giving me time
to push properly
.
‘I’ve got to do something! Shall I… I don’t
know, wash you, maybe?’ Her face was twisted with disgust; Amy
could see how much the offer had cost her.
‘No. You’ll hurt me more if you touch me
down there. I… I think I’d like a drink of water,’ she said, as
much to shut Susannah up as from a desire to moisten her cracked
lips.
Susannah hurried over to the chest of
drawers and filled a glass from the tin of water. Amy lifted her
head to sip at it, then fell back against the pillows. She let
Susannah take hold of her hand as she waited for the next wave of
pain.
At last there came the noise of hooves
approaching. ‘That must be the nurse!’ Susannah said, jumping up
from her chair and peering out the window. ‘Thank Heavens!’
A moment later Mrs Coulson rushed into the
room and put her arms around Amy. ‘Poor darling,’ she soothed.
‘Don’t be frightened, sweetheart. I’ll have you comfortable in no
time. I’ll just have a quick look at you, then you can have a nice
dose of chloroform.’
She pulled back the covers and raised Amy’s
dress. ‘Mrs Leith, give me a hand to get her undressed, will you?’
she asked without turning towards Susannah. ‘I’d like you to—’ She
glanced over her shoulder, and abruptly stopped speaking when she
saw Susannah’s white face. ‘Whatever’s wrong with you, woman?’ Mrs
Coulson asked. ‘Haven’t you ever seen a child born?’
‘No,’ Susannah admitted in a faint
voice.
‘For goodness sake! Who sent you here?’
‘My husband… I wanted to come. I came to
look after Amy.’
‘Oh, yes, I can see that. You’ll have been a
great help to the girl. Get out, please. If you can’t be any use,
you can at least keep out from under my feet.’
‘But I’m meant to be helping! It’s just…
it’s all so revolting,’ Susannah said weakly, looking away from
Amy’s exposed loins.
‘Well, you’re not helping. Go and make a cup
of tea or something. I’m sure Mr Stewart’s feeling the need of
one.’ Susannah went out, closing the door after her.
‘That woman’s worse than useless,’ Mrs
Coulson muttered. ‘Never mind, that’s her out of the way.’ She sat
down on the chair beside Amy and lifted the bag she had brought.
‘I’d better put you out before I try undressing you. I’ll hurt you
too much doing it by myself.’ She lifted out the chloroform bottle
and a pad of cloth.
‘Am I going to die, Mrs Coulson?’
‘Shh, darling. Of course you’re not,’ Mrs
Coulson said, with a cheerfulness that Amy knew was forced.
‘Please tell me the truth. I want to
know.’
Mrs Coulson stroked Amy’s face. ‘It isn’t
given to us to know the hour of our deaths. But I’ll do my best to
see that your hour doesn’t come for a long time yet.’
Her kindness made Amy let go of her fear.
‘What about my baby? It’s too early. My baby’s going to die, isn’t
it?’
‘You shouldn’t talk…’ Mrs Coulson began,
then she sighed. ‘How early? Your husband said about a month.’
‘Six weeks.’
‘As much as that?’ She hesitated before
speaking again. ‘Well, my dear, anything can happen. But… six weeks
early? I’m sorry, darling.’ She held the pad over Amy’s face.
*
When Amy was lying still and quiet, Mrs
Coulson undressed her. The nurse gave a sharp intake of breath when
she untied Amy’s drawers and saw the livid bruises across her
abdomen. The marks of a heavy boot? The bruises didn’t seem quite
the right shape for that, but she could not imagine what else might
have caused them. So that was what had brought on this untimely
labour. Mrs Coulson knew it was going to be difficult for her to
speak civilly to Charlie, for all she had promised herself she
would.
She fought with the baby till both of them
were near exhaustion, but the child was its own enemy far more than
it was the nurse’s. It seemed to want to fight its way out of Amy’s
womb, but at the same time tried to cling to its safe home. The
nurse’s probing soon told her the baby was in the breech position,
and as fast as she could tease a little leg free of the tangle of
limbs it twisted away from her fingers. But the convulsions of the
uterus at last proved stronger than the child within, and it
expelled its struggling tenant buttocks first.
The tiny boy weighed barely four pounds, the
nurse was sure. He waved his little fists and howled, making no
more noise than a kitten. Mrs Coulson shook her head over him,
wrapped him in a blanket and laid him on the bed beside the
unconscious Amy after pulling a sheet over Amy’s lower body. She
did no more than wash the blood off the baby’s face. There was no
sense disturbing the doomed little creature any more than she had
to.
Charlie and Susannah were sitting at the
table, Charlie with a half-eaten plate of something Susannah had
managed to throw together for him. They both looked up as Mrs
Coulson came into the room, each with their own different face of
fear.
Susannah gave a small scream. ‘Look at your
hands!’ she gasped. ‘They’re covered in blood!’
Mrs Coulson looked down. Her hands were
indeed thickly coated with dark blood, now drying; she had hardly
noticed it till now. ‘She always bleeds a lot when she bears.
That’s one reason it takes her so long to get over it. This time’s
worse than usual.’ She pursed her lips at Susannah. ‘Mrs Leith, if
you’re going to be sick I’ll thank you to do it outside. I’ve no
intention of cleaning up after you, and I doubt if Mr Stewart has
either.’ Susannah looked away shamefacedly.
‘Well?’ Charlie asked. ‘What’s
happening?’
‘If you want to see your new son while he’s
still living you’d better hurry up about it. He won’t be with us
for long.’
She turned and made her way back to the
bedroom, with Charlie following. Somewhat to Mrs Coulson’s
surprise, Susannah came along a few moments later. Mrs Coulson eyed
her warily, but she seemed in control of herself.
‘Here he is,’ Mrs Coulson said, turning the
blanket down a fraction. ‘A beautiful boy. Nothing wrong with him
except he’s on the wrong side of the womb. Poor, innocent
creature,’ she murmured, but her eyes shifted to Amy as she
spoke.
‘There’s no hope for him?’ Charlie
asked.
Mrs Coulson shook her head. ‘No. There’s
nothing I can do for a baby that small except keep him warm and
comfortable.’
Charlie stared at Amy lying small and still
on the bed. ‘How is it with her?’
‘I don’t know. We’ll hope for the best, but
I won’t be sure till morning. If the bleeding gets worse things
won’t be good. If she does pull through, the poor child’s going to
be very weak for a while.’
‘What brought it on? Why did she have the
boy ahead of time?’
Mrs Coulson stared hard at him. ‘I thought
you might be able to tell me that, Mr Stewart.’
He looked blankly at her. ‘What are you
talking about?’
‘Her belly’s covered in bruises. That’s what
knocked the baby about so that he decided to come out too early.
I’d like to know how she got them.’
She heard Susannah give a sharp intake of
breath, but Charlie looked puzzled. ‘Bruises?’ he repeated. ‘How
would she have got bruises?’ He frowned in thought. ‘When I found
her she was on the kitchen floor,’ he said slowly. ‘There was a
chair tipped over beside her. She maybe fell on that.’