Mud and Gold (46 page)

‘She must be getting worn out,’ Amy said as
she walked beside John, Malcolm scampering around them.

‘Well, she doesn’t say much, but she’s
puffing and blowing a lot. Do you think I should tell her to have a
lie-down or something?’

‘That’s a good idea,’ said Amy. ‘It’s not so
easy to do that once you’ve got little ones to look after, but she
should try and get the weight off her feet when she can. Have her
legs been aching, or anything like that?’

John had just begun to reply as he held the
door open for Amy and walked into the kitchen close at her heels,
but the words died on his lips. Sophie was on her hands and knees,
scrubbing the floor as vigorously as her massive bulk would allow,
her face red with exertion.

‘What are you doing, Sophie?’ John
asked.

Sophie looked at him in mild surprise.
‘Scrubbing,’ she answered simply.

It took John only a moment to recover from
his shock. ‘Not any more, you’re not. Come on, Soph, up you get.’
He prised the scrubbing brush from her grip and dropped it into the
bucket, then helped Sophie upright and eased her onto a chair. He
sat down next to her and took one of Sophie’s hands in both of his.
‘You shouldn’t be doing that stuff,’ he told her, concern in his
face.

‘But it’s Thursday. I always scrub on a
Thursday,’ Sophie said, glancing guiltily at her bucket.

‘Amy, tell her she shouldn’t,’ John
appealed.

‘John’s right, Sophie,’ Amy said, taking a
seat on the other side. ‘It’s not good to do heavy things like
that. You’ve got enough to do just moving yourself around.’ If
Sophie had been plump before she got with child, she was huge now.
It was hard to believe she could expand much more in the six weeks
she still had to wait till full term. Her chest was heaving as she
sat and struggled for breath, and Amy wondered if she would have
been able to get up off the floor without John’s help.

‘You don’t want anything to—’ Amy began,
then remembered Malcolm’s presence. ‘Why don’t you go outside for a
bit, Mal? Tommy and Georgie have got a lovely big swing out the
back, much better than yours at home. You go and play on that.’
Malcolm weighed up the idea for a moment, till the attractions of a
swing won against the dubious amusement of listening to adults talk
over his head. ‘You don’t want anything to go wrong with the baby,’
Amy went on when Malcolm had gone. ‘It’s no good wearing yourself
out.’

‘The floor’s dirty,’ Sophie said
uneasily.

‘Let it stay dirty, then. You can always
give it a sweep, you don’t have to bend for that.’

John watched Sophie anxiously until her
breathing steadied. ‘I didn’t know you were doing this stuff,
Sophie. From now on you just leave it all. I don’t want you hurting
yourself.’

‘But…’ Sophie’s brow furrowed in thought.
‘There’s the water,’ she announced. ‘We’ve got to have water.’

‘Sophie!’ said Amy. ‘Have you been carrying
water up from the well?’

‘It hasn’t rained for a bit, there’s none in
the barrel,’ Sophie said apologetically. ‘I’ve got to get it from
the well. I make lots of trips, ’cause I can only carry two buckets
at a time.’

Amy turned to her brother. ‘John, that’s
really heavy, hauling buckets of water all that way. You mustn’t
let her do that.’

She saw John’s concern turn into something
sterner. ‘Where’s Susannah?’ he asked. ‘What’s she doing, letting
you do this stuff by yourself?’

‘Having a lie-down,’ Sophie answered,
nothing more than acceptance of the fact in her voice.

‘A lie-down!’ John echoed.

‘Yes. She likes a lie-down in the afternoon.
She loosens her stays.’

‘I’d like to throttle her with her bloody
stays,’ John said, his eyes smouldering though he did not raise his
voice.

‘She asked if I’d mind cleaning up while she
had a rest. I don’t mind scrubbing and doing that other stuff,’
Sophie said, staring at John’s angry face in confusion. ‘I always
scrub on a Thursday.’

‘Shh, Sophie, it’s all right,’ John soothed.
‘You leave it to me, I’ll get things sorted out.’ He disentangled
his hands from Sophie’s, stood and made his way towards the passage
door.

Amy got up and followed him halfway up the
passage, leaving Sophie at the table. ‘John, don’t do anything
silly.’

‘I’m not going to do murder, Amy, don’t
worry.’

John hammered on the bedroom door, waited a
moment, and when there was no response hammered even louder.

‘Who’s that?’ Amy could hear a slight
nervousness in Susannah’s response, despite the muffling of the
door. ‘What do you want?’

‘I want a word with you, Susannah.’ John
rattled the door handle, but made no attempt to turn it.

‘You can’t come in,’ Susannah called. ‘Wait
a minute, I’m not dressed.’

There was the sound of rapid movement within
the room, then Susannah opened the door a fraction and peered
around it, clutching her dressing-gown closed with her free hand.
‘Well?’ she said, managing to maintain a certain haughtiness
despite the indignity of the situation. ‘What are you making such a
fuss about?’

‘What the hell do you mean making Sophie do
all the work while she’s in this state?’ John demanded. ‘There’s
the poor girl hardly able to drag herself around, and you’ve got
her on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor!’

‘I didn’t tell her to do it! I just told her
to tidy things up a bit. How was I to know she’d start scrubbing? I
don’t see that I can be blamed if the girl’s silly enough to do
that sort of thing.’

‘She’s good-natured and willing, and you’ve
ordered her about ever since I brought her home,’ John shot back.
‘Who did you think was fetching the water? Did you think it came up
from the well by itself?’

‘Why should I have to do everything? It
won’t do her any harm to fetch a bit of water. She’s carrying far
too much weight, that’s why she gets tired. It’ll do her good to
get a bit of exercise.’

‘Exercise!’ John spat the word. ‘My poor
Sophie making herself ill, and you’re sitting on your backside
doing nothing.’

‘Don’t use such language to me! It’s none of
your business how I spend my time. Go away.’ Susannah made to close
the door, but John interposed his body in the doorway, pushed the
door open and went into the room. Amy crept further down the
passage so that she could see into the bedroom.

‘It’s my bloody business all right when I
see my wife working like a servant for you, you lazy bitch!’

‘How dare you speak to me like that! Get out
of my bedroom. Go on, get out of here.’ Susannah made a little
movement of her hands as if she were about to push John away, then
appeared to think better of it and instead took a step backwards.
‘Get out,’ she repeated, but Amy heard a tightness in her voice
that revealed fear. ‘Where’s your father? I want to speak to
him.’

‘Never mind about Pa. This is between you
and me. I won’t put up with it, Susannah. I won’t let you treat
Sophie like that. You’ve been a bitch to my sister, you’re not
going to be a bitch to my wife. You’re going to do your share.’ He
took a step towards Susannah. ‘You’re going to—’

He was interrupted by a shrill scream from
Susannah. ‘Don’t touch me! Get away from me!’ She scurried across
the room so that the bed was between them, letting her
dressing-gown gape open as she ran, revealing the top of her
camisole with the corset pressing against it. ‘Go away!’ she
cried.

Amy rushed into the room and made a grab at
John’s arm. ‘John, you mustn’t. Leave Susannah alone. Come out of
here.’

‘What’s going on?’ Amy heard a voice from
the passage, and turned to see Jack standing in the doorway. ‘I
could hear you lot shouting from halfway up the hill, and Sophie’s
in the kitchen saying you’re all killing one another.’

‘Jack, tell him to leave me alone,’ Susannah
said, still wild-eyed but no longer terrified now that her husband
had appeared. ‘He burst in here and started abusing me—he used the
most awful language—he’s gone quite mad.’

‘What are you doing, boy?’ Jack asked.
‘Susannah, you’re not even dressed properly.’ Susannah looked down
at her gaping dressing-gown and snatched it closed, tying it
hastily. ‘You’ve no business in here,’ Jack told his son.

‘That bitch should—’

‘There, you see?’ Susannah demanded. ‘He’s
doing it again—in front of you, too. Make him stop. Make him go
away.’

‘That’s enough of that talk, boy,’ Jack
said. ‘Will one of you tell me what the hell is going on?’

John took a deep breath and spoke more
calmly. ‘I came up to the house to see how Sophie was—I thought she
looked a bit weary this morning. I got here and found her on her
hands and knees scrubbing the floor because
she
,’ he shot a
venomous look at Susannah, and she glared back, ‘told her she
should clean the place up. I got Sophie talking, and I found out
she’s been doing all the work—’

‘She has not!’ Susannah interrupted, but
John went on as if she had not spoken.

‘While Susannah’s done nothing. Sophie’s
been hauling the water every day! The state she’s in, Pa, and she’s
been doing that. And then I find out this b… this woman’s having a
lie-down, if you please!’

‘Is this true, Susannah?’ Jack asked.

‘Why shouldn’t I have a lie-down? I’ve the
most awful headache. And I’m
not
going to haul water like a
servant! If he doesn’t want Sophie to do it he can fetch the water
himself. I don’t see why Sophie can’t help me with the work, no one
ever gave me much help when I was in her condition.’ Tears started
from her eyes. ‘You dragged me to this awful place. You expect me
to work like a slave—you want me to be like some rough farm girl.
Now you won’t even stand up for me against them all. Everyone’s
against me. You all hate me!’

‘No one hates you, Susannah,’ Jack said
wearily.

‘I do,’ John put in. ‘She’s caused nothing
but trouble since the day—’

‘No one asked for your opinion,’ Jack
interrupted. ‘And you can treat my wife with a bit of respect.
There’s no need to come bursting into my bedroom when she’s barely
decent.’

‘No,’ John said. ‘She doesn’t deserve
respect.’

‘I’m your father, boy. I expect you to do
what I say. Get out of here.’

‘I’m going.’ John made to leave, then turned
back to his father. ‘Maybe I shouldn’t have come in here after her,
I’ll grant you that. But I’m not going to put up with how she’s
been treating Sophie. If you won’t make her do her share I’ll…
well, it just won’t get done. And that’s that.’

‘Right, you’ve said your piece. Out you
get.’

‘Come on, John,’ Amy encouraged. She pulled
at his arm. ‘Are you coming, Pa?’

Jack turned to look at Susannah, who had
sunk into a chair, weak with relief. ‘Not just yet.’

‘Leave me alone, Jack,’ said Susannah. ‘My
nerves are in a dreadful state. I’ll have to close the curtains and
lie down in the dark until my head stops throbbing.’

‘That’ll have to wait,’ Jack said. ‘We need
to have a talk first, Susannah.’

Susannah shot him a resentful look. ‘I
thought at least you might take my part—though goodness knows you
never have before. I suppose you’re going to abuse me now, like
your brute of a son.’

‘No, I’m not going to abuse you. Out you
get, you two,’ he said over his shoulder to John and Amy, who were
looking at him from the doorway. ‘This is private.’ He closed the
door firmly on his audience.

*

That was a funny sort of visit
, Amy
mused as she made her way home with her sons.
I’m sure we never
used to fight all the time before Susannah came. I don’t think I’ve
ever seen John in such a state
.

Charlie was late home from town, as he often
was after his solitary outings. Amy gave the children most of their
dinner before he came home. He was so late that she had time to get
the bread dough mixed and kneaded for the morning baking after
getting Malcolm and David ready for bed. By the time Charlie
finally arrived, she had the boys sitting at the table in their
nightshirts, hair brushed and faces washed as they waited for their
father’s arrival and the chance to eat their pudding.

‘Did you have a nice time in town?’ Amy
asked as she dished up the food.

‘Passable,’ he answered. ‘These two behave
themselves?’ he asked, glancing at his sons. The boys, to Amy’s
relief, had been tired out enough by their outing to sit quietly at
the table, according to Charlie’s rules for the behaviour of
children.

‘Yes, they were both good boys,’ said
Amy.

She studied Charlie as he ate, trying to
gauge whether or not he was drunk. He smelt of beer and more than a
whiff of gin, but she soon decided he was sober, much to her
relief. He went through to the parlour when he had finished eating.
Amy stacked the dishes on the bench while the boys finished off the
last of the pudding.

‘Time for bed, you two,’ she said. ‘Come and
say good night to Papa.’ She picked up David and carried him into
the parlour, while Malcolm went in ahead of her.

‘Good night, Papa,’ Malcolm said. Amy smiled
to see him thrust out his hand to have it shaken. Malcolm was
always so eager to seem grown up.

‘’
Night, boy,’ Charlie said,
shaking the outstretched hand. He watched Malcolm go off to his
bedroom with a look of satisfaction, and Amy did not distract him
for a few moments.

‘Kiss Papa good night,’ she said, carrying
David over to his father’s chair. She leaned across Charlie to
bring David within kissing distance, trying not to wrinkle her nose
at the unpleasant smell thus brought so close to her. It was the
smell he usually carried home from town, and Amy had never quite
managed to make it out. There was the beer and gin she had already
noted, along with an acrid smell of sweat that surprised her when
she considered it. He seemed to have worked up as much of a sweat
on his outing as he did when working on the farm, and although Amy
had never spent an afternoon drinking in a hotel she did not think
it would be a place of great exertion.