Sentence of Marriage (10 page)

October the thirteenth was a Thursday, and Amy woke to see sunshine creeping through the gap between her drapes. When she flung them open she could see the valley was bathed in sunlight, and she smiled at the beauty of the scene.

‘I’m thirteen,’ she whispered to the day.

The weather was so much warmer that Amy decided to put on one of her summer dresses, and the kiss of cool cotton instead of scratchy wool or linsey-woolsey as she slipped the dress over her head made her feel in a holiday mood. She beamed at her father and brothers when they came into the kitchen after milking, and she even felt a warmth towards Susannah when her stepmother came yawning into the kitchen.

‘You look very pleased with yourself,’ Susannah said, edging Amy aside from the range where bacon was sizzling.

‘It’s such a lovely day,’ Amy said. ‘And it’s…’ she drifted away, shy at telling Susannah what the day was.

‘It is nice weather,’ Susannah said, looking out the window. ‘Even this place looks reasonable in the sunshine.’

‘Would you like to take a walk later Susi—annah?’ Jack asked. He was learning slowly, Amy noticed. ‘The ground’s much drier now.’

‘I might,’ Susannah condescended.

Lizzie came over soon after breakfast, when John and Harry had left the house but Jack was still having his last cup of tea. She carried a bunch of violets and a lace-edged handkerchief.

‘Happy birthday.’ She gave Amy a hug and presented her with the gifts.

‘Thank you, Lizzie,’ Amy said, carefully not looking at her father.

‘It’s your birthday!’ said Jack. ‘Why didn’t you remind me?’

‘It doesn’t matter, Pa.’

‘I always had your ma or your granny to remind me before—you’ll have to do that from now on, Susie.’

‘I could hardly remind you when I didn’t know myself, could I?’ Susannah said, affronted. ‘Happy birthday, dear.’ She planted the lightest of kisses on Amy’s cheek.

‘I haven’t got you anything,’ Jack fretted. ‘Come to think of it, I didn’t bring you anything when I came back from Auckland. Of course I
did
bring you a new mother,’ he added, looking pleased with himself. ‘You couldn’t ask for a better present than that, could you?’ Amy and Susannah both pretended they had not heard. ‘Make something nice—a cake or something. Then we can have a party at lunch-time.’

When Lizzie had gone home again Amy made a large currant cake as part of the morning’s baking. She watched the cake being devoured when the men came back at midday.

‘Good cake,’ Harry said through a mouthful. ‘You should have a birthday more often, Amy.’

‘I do wish you wouldn’t speak with your mouth full, Harry,’ Susannah said. ‘It’s not very nice, is it?’

Harry glared at her. ‘Why not?’

‘It’s just not nice—tell him not to, Jack.’

‘What was that?’ Jack said, his own speech muffled by cake. ‘What did you say?’

Susannah pursed her lips. ‘Really, you’re all so
rough
.’

‘Airs and graces,’ Harry muttered. He left the table abruptly, and Amy felt a shadow had fallen on her day.

I wish she didn’t always have to cause trouble
.

*

As November drifted into December the weather grew warmer and more humid. Susannah seemed to become more short-tempered; Amy decided the heat must be getting her down. ‘Shall I get a joint to cook for lunch?’ she asked Susannah one Tuesday morning in early December. ‘Or would you rather have stew?’

‘Mutton!’ Susannah said in disgust. ‘I’m sick to death of mutton. Don’t you ever have anything else?’

‘We do usually have mutton… would you like to have chicken instead?’

Susannah thought for a moment, her lower lip stuck out like a petulant child’s. ‘Yes. I want chicken.’

‘I’ll tell John or Harry to get one of the roosters.’

‘No you won’t—I’ll tell them. This is my kitchen, don’t you go giving orders.’

Susannah went to the door and spied Harry not far away in one of the sheds. ‘Harry!’ she called in a piercing voice. There was no response. ‘Harry! Come here right now!’ she called even louder, and Harry ambled up.

‘What do you want?’ he asked ungraciously.

‘Get me a rooster, please.’ Amy’s brothers at least rated a ‘please’.

Harry grunted a response and wandered off. When he had not returned half an hour later Susannah became fretful.

‘Where has that Harry got to,’ she said, looking out the window.

‘Perhaps he’s had trouble catching a rooster,’ said Amy.

‘I’m going to see what he’s up to.’ Susannah marched out of the house.

‘I don’t think you should,’ Amy said, hurrying after her. She had noticed that Susannah found distasteful many of the things Amy took for granted as part of everyday life; killing of animals was one of these.

Susannah turned on her. ‘I don’t care what you think,’ she snapped. ‘Don’t tell me what to do—you mind your place.’

‘You won’t like it,’ Amy said, but all she could do was scurry after Susannah as her stepmother strode across the garden and out the gate.

As she feared, Harry was just outside the fence with an axe poised above a struggling rooster. Susannah stopped in her tracks, Amy narrowly avoided running into her, and they both watched the axe describe an arc through the air then sever the rooster’s neck, triggering a short-lived bloody fountain. For a long moment nothing seemed to happen, then the rooster’s body began to twitch violently and Susannah started to scream.

‘It’s still alive—and you cut its head off—it’s still alive!’ she shrieked, then picked up her skirts high enough to show a few inches of silk stocking and took to her heels, still screaming.

Harry laughed uproariously. ‘That got her going,’ he said, nearly choking on his mirth.

‘Harry, it’s not funny,’ Amy said. ‘She really got a fright.’

‘Serves her right,’ said Harry. ‘She can move when she wants to—did you see those skinny ankles?’ He laughed again, and Amy couldn’t suppress a smile at the memory of Susannah’s headlong flight.

‘It was a bit funny,’ she admitted, ‘but it’s all very well for you to laugh—you won’t have to spend the rest of the day with her.’

‘Yes, poor you. It’s a pity she’s such a bitch.’

‘Harry!’

‘Well, she is.’

‘You mustn’t say that—she’s Pa’s wife.’

‘She’s still a bitch.’

Amy took the unfortunate rooster from Harry and reluctantly went inside to look for Susannah. The kitchen was deserted. She laid the corpse on the table and walked through the passage into the front bedroom.

‘Susannah?’ she said quietly. Her stepmother was lying face-down on the unmade bed; she rolled over and looked accusingly at Amy.

‘Go away.’

‘Susannah, I’m sorry you got a fright—I did try to warn you. It’s just something that happens when you cut chooks’ heads off, they’re not really alive, it just looks as though they are. I suppose it does look a bit awful.’

Susannah looked as though she was going to be sick. ‘You did it on purpose.’

‘No I didn’t!’

‘Yes you did—it was you who said we should have chicken for lunch.’

‘That was only because you said you were sick of—’

‘And that Harry
laughed
at me! You did too, didn’t you?’

‘No! I didn’t laugh at you! And Harry didn’t mean any harm.’

‘You set it up between you, didn’t you? So you could make fun of me. You all hate me!’ She turned her face back to the pillow and started sobbing.

‘No we don’t—please don’t cry.’ Amy went over to the bed and put her hand on Susannah’s heaving shoulder, but Susannah pushed the hand away.

‘Go away!’ she screamed. ‘I’m going to tell your father about you two—I’m going to tell him right now! You go and get him.’

‘But—’

‘Don’t argue! Go and get your father.’

‘All right,’ Amy said with a sigh.

Harry was back in the shed when Amy went outside. ‘Where’s Pa?’ she asked.

‘Over in the back paddock with John, they’re moving some stock. What do you want him for?’

‘Susannah wants him.’ Amy sighed. ‘You and I are in trouble now.’

‘Oh,’ Harry said, looking unconcerned. ‘What are you in trouble for?’

‘The same as you—because she got frightened by the chook. She thinks we did it on purpose.’

‘Silly bitch,’ Harry muttered.

Jack and his older son were persuading some cattle to go through an open gate when Amy reached them. ‘Susannah wants you, Pa,’ she said.

‘What for—can’t it wait? We’re busy here.’

‘She’s a bit upset.’

‘What about?’

‘She saw a chook being killed, and it gave her a fright. She’s having a lie-down.’ It sounded a rather feeble reason to summon her father. ‘Actually, she’s very upset,’ Amy amended.

Jack groaned. ‘Can’t you settle her down?’

‘I tried—I made her worse, I think.’

‘Well, she’ll have to wait until we’ve got these cows moved. Give us a hand, Amy.’

Amy went over to the far side of the cows and the three of them worked together for a few minutes, then she and her father walked up to the house together.

Amy took the rooster outside to pluck, carefully saving the feathers in a bag to be used for stuffing pillows. She took it back into the kitchen to finish preparing, then when it was in the oven she started the ironing; she was fairly sure she would be doing it by herself that day, and it had been delayed long enough.

‘I don’t know what’s wrong with her,’ Jack said when he came into the kitchen again, closing the passage door. ‘You two aren’t getting on very well, are you?’

‘No,’ Amy admitted.

‘I thought you’d be pleased to have a mother again, not squabbling with her over chooks or whatever she’s going on about.’

‘I’m trying, Pa, I really am.’

‘She’s looking a bit worn out, too, you might have to help her more around the place.’

‘Help her—Pa, I don’t mind doing everything if that’s what she wants, I’m used to doing it all. But she gets so annoyed with me when I try explaining anything.’

‘Well, you’ll have to sort it out between yourselves. You just do what she wants and try to keep her happy.’

Amy sighed. ‘I’ll try.’ She bent over the ironing to hide the irritation she knew must show on her face.

*

It was unfortunate that Lizzie chose that particular morning to pop over to visit. ‘Ma wants to borrow some baking powder. She’s making scones and she’s run out.’

‘Help yourself,’ Amy said, indicating the cupboard where she kept baking needs.

‘Madam Susannah not helping you?’

‘She’s having a lie-down.’

‘Did I hear my name?’ Susannah said, coming into the room from the passage.

‘Lizzie was just asking after you,’ Amy said quickly. She flashed a warning glance at Lizzie, but her cousin was looking instead at Susannah.

‘I was just rather surprised,’ Lizzie said very deliberately, ‘to see Amy doing all this ironing by herself.’

‘What’s that to you?’ Susannah asked.

‘I don’t think it’s right, that’s all.’

‘Lizzie,’ Amy warned, ‘you keep out of this—it’s nothing to do with you.’

‘She’s quite right—what’s it to do with you, Miss Lizzie?’

‘Amy’s too soft to stick up for herself, so someone’s got to do it for her. What’s she doing ironing all your stuff while you lie in bed?’

‘Stop it, Lizzie!’ Amy begged. ‘You’re not helping.’

‘It’s very interesting to know what you both think of me,’ Susannah said. Amy was surprised at how controlled her stepmother sounded. ‘I think you’d better go home now.’

‘Well,
I
think—’

‘Lizzie,’ Amy interrupted, ‘I want you to go now, too. Go on, go home. I’ll come over and see you soon.’

Lizzie looked at her doubtfully. ‘Will you be all right?’ She appeared to be regretting her outburst.

‘Of course I will—just go away.’ She opened the door, and Lizzie went out, casting a disapproving glance at Susannah as she did.

‘Talking about me behind my back, are you?’ Susannah’s icy calm was a strange contrast to her earlier near-hysterics.

‘No—Lizzie’s like that, she always bosses everyone around. We all just ignore her.’

‘She seems to think you need protecting from your wicked stepmother.’

‘She doesn’t mean anything—you mustn’t take any notice of her.’

‘But
you
take notice of her, don’t you?’ Susannah hissed.

‘Not when she bosses me. She just thinks I need looking after all the time, because I haven’t got a… I mean, because—’

‘Because you haven’t got a mother? Is that it?’ Susannah pounced.

‘Yes,’ Amy admitted.

‘I don’t count, of course.’

‘You don’t want to be my mother, do you?’