Mud and Gold (79 page)

Edie put the platter of meat she was
carrying down onto a small table and slipped her arm through
Susannah’s. ‘Now, we’ve all done our best to help you out today,’
she said, her kindly tone softening the rebuke. ‘We’ve all brought
things, and quite right, too. There’s far too many of us for you to
have to feed on your own. I can see you look worn out, though. So
does Jack, come to that—I don’t suppose he had much sleep either if
you had a bad night. Now what’s wrong, dear? You mustn’t say no one
takes any interest in whether you’re upset. I’m asking you now,
aren’t I?’

‘You wouldn’t understand,’ Susannah said
distantly.

‘Try me.’

‘It would be a waste of time. You’d say I’m
being stupid, just like Jack did. None of you care what I want.’
She sounded close to tears, but it was difficult for Amy to judge
how genuine her distress was.

‘Are we really all so horrible to you,
Susannah?’ Edie asked gently.

‘Yes,’ Susannah snapped, followed almost
immediately by a reluctant, ‘No.’ She sighed. ‘You’ve always been
kind to me, Edie. You’re the only one who has.’

‘Don’t talk like that. You couldn’t ask for
a kinder husband than Jack, could you? Now, don’t pull such faces,
my girl. Tell me what the trouble is. Are you feeling a bit left
out?’ Edie probed. ‘All these babies around and you with only those
big boys of yours? But Jack thinks he’s past putting up with
babies, is that it? Are you thinking you’d like another little
one?’

‘Certainly not! Edie, you helped me through
that frightful business of having the children, you know what a
dreadful time I had of it. I don’t think it’s anything to laugh
about,’ she said haughtily.

‘You’re a funny girl,’ Edie said through a
chuckle. ‘I’ve never known a woman have an easier time of it than
you, and you go on as if—now, don’t get so huffy, dear, I didn’t
mean to offend you. You know, it’d take your mind off things if you
did have another baby, and you’re young enough. You could talk Jack
round if you put your mind to it.’

‘I do not want another child! I’ve quite
enough to worry about as it is, trying to bring up the two I have
properly so that they won’t turn out to be brutes like—’ Susannah
broke off, biting back the words that would have given even the
easy-going Edie offence. ‘Like they will if I’m not careful. Jack
certainly doesn’t seem to care what becomes of them. Leave me
alone, please, Edie. You wouldn’t understand. None of you would.’
She pushed past Edie with her head held high. Amy slipped out the
back door to take the long way around the house rather than face
Susannah in her role of tragedy queen.

*

‘I’m afraid it’s all very informal,’
Susannah said when she brought the last platter out from the house.
‘You can all sit wherever you want. I do hope there’s enough for
everyone—children are inclined to help themselves to the best
bits.’

She cast a disapproving look at Lizzie, who
was herding her family towards the picnic area. ‘You do seem to
have a
lot
of children, Lizzie.’

Frank half expected Lizzie to snap at
Susannah, but she said, ‘Only five,’ calmly enough, apparently more
inclined to take the remark as a compliment than otherwise.

‘Really? It seems like more when they run
about all the time. It must be difficult to teach them proper table
manners when there’re so many of them.’

‘Not difficult at all,’ Lizzie said,
bridling.

‘Oh? You do surprise me.’ Susannah glided
off to take her own place at what would have been the foot of the
table, had there been a table, ignoring the glare Lizzie sent after
her.

‘Now listen, you lot,’ Lizzie told the four
children old enough to take any notice when she had sat them down.
‘You’re to behave yourselves, right? If I see any of you taking
something then putting it back, or any of those things you’re not
allowed to do at home, there’ll be
trouble
. She turned to
Frank. ‘Isn’t that right, Papa?’

‘Yes, bad trouble,’ Frank said, trying to
look solemn. ‘Mama will leave you here with Aunt Susannah, and
she’ll—’ At the sight of Beth, who was more sensitive than her
siblings, and Mickey, who was too young to know any better, both
looking dangerously close to howling, he broke off. ‘No, Mama won’t
do that—she’ll only give you a hiding. I wouldn’t look as pleased
as all that about it, though, Mama can be pretty bad when she gets
wild.’

‘And if you’re
very
naughty, Papa
might get angry with you,’ Lizzie said, bringing out her ultimate
threat. As an angry Papa was something none of the children had
ever seen, the notion held all the menace of the unknown, while a
Mama bent on justice was only too familiar. ‘So just watch
yourselves.’

*

Jack said at the opposite end of the rugs
from Susannah. ‘Come and sit beside me,’ he invited Amy. She took a
place at his side, but made no attempt to beckon Charlie over from
the solitary spot he had found for himself under a tree a short
distance from everyone else; he would happier by himself, and more
easily ignored by her family. It would be no use trying to persuade
Malcolm to sit with her, not when there were older boys for him to
hover around, but David sat beside her and looked longingly at the
food spread out before him.

‘And I’ll have the little fellows over
here,’ Jack added, patting the ground at his left hand and
beckoning Thomas and George.

‘No, they can sit down here with me,’
Susannah said. ‘Come along, boys.’

‘But Pa said—’ George began to argue.

‘Your father has forgotten what a trial you
two have been to me lately,’ Susannah interrupted. ‘I want you here
where I can keep an eye on you and see that you behave decently.’
Her voice sounded cool and composed, but her eyes glittered
warningly.

‘Let them sit where they want, Susannah,’
said Jack.

‘Oh, yes, and watch them disgrace me in
front of everyone.’ Susannah’s voice rose in pitch as she spoke.
‘Is it asking too much to be allowed to bring my own sons up to
have proper manners?’

‘Stop making a fuss over nothing,’ Jack
said, clearly only too aware of his large and interested
audience.

‘Of course, I know you don’t think that sort
of thing matters. That’s why you won’t let me see that they grow up
like young gentlemen.’ Susannah had abandoned her attempt to sound
coolly aloof, and her voice was growing dangerously close to a
wail. ‘You think it’s a waste of time, I know. It doesn’t seem to
matter what I think. You begrudge them the chance—’

‘For God’s sake, Susannah, don’t bring all
that up again,’ Jack said wearily. ‘All right, they can sit by you
if it means that much to you. Just let me have my lunch in peace,
will you?’

The two boys sat down on either side of
their mother, George looking as though he would like to be
rebellious while Thomas had an expression of stoical misery. There
was an awkward silence for a few moments, then Jack said with
forced heartiness, ‘Right, I’ll say grace before the flies carry
the whole pile off. Then you can all get stuck in to this lot or
we’ll be eating leftovers for a month. Cheer up, you fellows, this
is a birthday, not a funeral.’

When he had intoned a short prayer, Amy
squeezed his hand in silent support. Jack smiled and drew her close
in the circle of his arm, forgetting for the moment his own
injunction to start eating. He glanced down to where Susannah was
lecturing the two boys, though inaudibly from this distance, and
his smile faded.

‘I didn’t think she’d perform today,’ he
said. ‘She hasn’t been so bad lately, I thought she’d got over all
that nonsense she used to go on with. Now she’s got this new idea
in her head. She doesn’t mind making me look a fool.’

Careful not to make her father dwell on an
unpleasant subject, Amy refrained from asking what Susannah’s new
idea might be. ‘Don’t worry, Pa, no one takes much notice of
Susannah. Even Tom doesn’t get as upset as he used to.’ She
followed her father’s gaze. ‘At least she doesn’t dress the boys
like little dolls any more.’

‘No, I put my foot down about that. No need
for her to make fools of the little fellows too.’

‘Shh, Pa, no one thinks you’re a fool. You
mustn’t say such things. Now, how about you start eating some of
your birthday lunch?’ She slid out of his grasp and began picking
out the choicest bits from the platters within reach to load onto
her father’s plate. ‘I brought over some of my ham—you know, cured
that special way with honey the way you always liked it. Do you
want some?’

‘As much as I can get,’ Jack told her with a
smile. ‘No one else does ham like yours.’

*

Demolishing the generous lunch took
everyone’s attention for most of the next hour, though there was
enough left over to guarantee that Jack’s family would indeed be
eating the remains for several days. The trees provided shelter
from the worst of the heat, but the warmth of the day relaxed those
who were capable of it, and the company, congenial for the most
part, made for amicable conversation.

‘Hey, Frank,’ Harry called across the rug,
‘I hear you’re getting rid of all your fancy cows.’

‘Not flaming likely!’ Frank protested with a
laugh, sure he was being teased. ‘Someone’s been having you on,
Harry. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, you know.’

‘No? I heard you’d been selling Jersey cows
in calf.’

‘That’s right.’ Frank smiled at the chance
to share his latest success without being accused of boasting.
‘Just the one, mind you. I sold a one-year-old in calf, sent her up
to the Waikato.’

‘I thought you’d be dead keen on building up
your breeders, Frank,’ John remarked. ‘What are you up to, selling
them?’

‘Just one,’ Frank reminded them. ‘It was
because I went up to that show in Auckland. Lots of people got to
see my cows, and they thought they weren’t too bad. Well, come
spring I had a few men asking if I had any for sale.’

‘A few?’ Lizzie said. ‘Frank had dozens of
people asking! No wonder, too, with all the ribbons and things he
won in Auckland. I’ve never heard of anyone getting as many letters
as Frank’s had this year.’

‘Well, there were quite a few, all right,’
Frank said. ‘Anyway, I was a bit troubled about that. I mean, if
I’d sold cows to everyone who wanted to buy them, I’d have had no
Jerseys left. But if I just told them I didn’t want to sell any
heifers, they’d all decide I was a dead loss as a breeder—and in a
few years when I’ve got the herd better set up I want to be able to
sell the extras, eh?’

His smile grew broader. ‘Then I got this
idea. I wrote back to the ones who sounded keenest, and I sort of
hummed and ha’d about whether I’d have enough cows to sell, and I
got them to say what price they’d go up to. Then I sold a heifer to
the one who offered the most money, and I wrote to all the others
to say sorry, I’d sold all the heifers I could spare this season,
and maybe I’d be able to supply them next year or the year after.
I’ve already had a few wanting to put their names down for next
season,’ he added, trying not to sound too smug.

‘That was pretty cunning,’ Harry said.

‘Thanks,’ said Frank. Out of the corner of
his eye he saw Arthur looking uncertain whether to boast about
Frank’s success or scoff at it, and Frank decided to tip the
balance. ‘Of course Pa helped me think of it. I talked it all over
with him and he helped me decide what to do.’

That was stretching the truth to the limit;
after carefully deliberating, Frank had told Arthur what he
intended to do, and Arthur had not actually said it was a stupid
idea. But his remark had the desired effect: Arthur glowed with
pride and said, ‘Frank’s got the sense to take good advice, I’ve
always said that. Even if he did go off half-cocked over buying
those cows,’ he added, careful not to encourage a swollen head in
his son-in-law.

Frank sprawled on the grass with his plate
balanced on the uneven ground. Lizzie sat beside him with Danny on
her lap, the plump baby crushing the taffeta of her blue dress paid
for with a little of the money from Frank’s bull, while the other
four children clustered around giving full attention to their
pudding. A family for a man to be proud of, and proud he was. Five
healthy children, and a wife like Lizzie. As if that wasn’t enough
to be thankful for, the farm was doing better than ever and the
Jerseys were thriving. He knew the heifer he had sold would be the
first of many. Lizzie was never going to wear patched petticoats
again.

*

Mr Hatfield, the
watchmaker-cum-photographer, arrived as most of the family were
polishing off their second helpings of dessert. He looked mildly
bewildered as he found himself being sat down on a cushion and
plied with cakes and puddings, despite his protestations that he
had already eaten. He had politely refused to intrude upon the
family occasion when Jack had told him to come out in time for the
meal, but he was no match for a group of women all firmly convinced
this must be the first decent food the elderly Englishman had had
in years.

He was not allowed to set up his camera on
its stand until he had eaten three plates of pudding and downed two
glasses of beer, after which he disappeared behind his camera with
the expression of a man seeking safe harbour. There ensued an orgy
of photograph taking, Mr Hatfield standing as aloof as possible
from the complex operation of deciding who was to stand where for
each photograph, and where any missing children could possibly have
got to in the few seconds since their mothers had last seen
them.

Fitting the entire gathering into one frame
was a challenge only accomplished after a great deal of muttering
and lip-chewing on Mr Hatfield’s part, and he relaxed visibly when
Arthur’s branch of the clan moved aside. Having stared grimly at
the camera for the group photograph, Charlie took up his station by
the beer barrel and ignored all the activity around him.