Amber

by Deborah Challinor

  To Kitty’s surprise, as they stood on the sand waiting for the ship’s boats to collect them and the handful of other passengers, Mrs Fleming intermittently touched her handkerchief to her eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mrs Farrell,’ she said through the fine embroidered linen, ‘I’m not usually like this. It’s just that, well, I’ve become quite fond of you and Amber. And yes, even that little cat of yours, although I never thought I’d hear myself say that.’

  Kitty patted her arm. ‘Well, perhaps one day we’ll come back and visit,’ she said comfortingly.

  ‘You take care of that child now,’ Mrs Fleming said. ‘And you take care of your new mama,’ she added, bending down to address Amber.

  Amber blinked at her but said nothing.

  ‘And Mr Bullock, it has been lovely to know you,’ Mrs Fleming went on. ‘You keep up with God’s good works now, won’t you?’

  Simon nodded noncommittally and clasped Mrs Fleming’s hand.

  Hattie gave them all a hug, except for Simon, of course, because she was an affianced woman, and then it was Flora’s turn.

  ‘Take care of yourselves and, who knows, we may cross paths again on our various travels,’ she said, as she gave Kitty a quick embrace.

  Kitty hugged her back. ‘Thank you, and good luck with your, er, career,’ she said.

  Flora laughed.

  ‘Is Miss Langford looking for new employment?’ Mrs Fleming said in an aside to Hattie. ‘I didn’t know that.’

  Then Joshua Leach finished unloading the cart, shook Simon’s hand and thanked him for the entertainment over the past few days. ‘Never laughed so hard in my life,’ he said, his face crinkling into a smile. ‘And neither has the wife, when I told her.’

  ‘Glad I could be of service,’ Simon said, grinning.

  When the ship’s boat arrived, the luggage was loaded before the passengers climbed in, the women holding the hems of their dresses above the tiny waves. Apart from Kitty, Simon and Amber, there were only two small families wanting to return to their homes at Kororareka, and hoping that their homes were still standing.

  As the rowboat headed out towards the Irish Bride, Kitty waved back at the shore, then simply watched as the people on it grew smaller and smaller. She noticed Simon eyeing her, and gave him a little smile.

  The barge that would ferry the horses out to the Bride was towed from the Point Britomart side of the bay, then swung around and eased into the shallows. Shading her eyes, Kitty could make out Joshua Leach leading the animals one at a time onto the barge’s wooden deck, then closing the gate of the high wooden pen. He had volunteered to accompany the horses out to the ship, and Kitty had been grateful, as she knew they would be frightened and disoriented. She had blinkered them, but still the roll of the barge beneath their hooves and the brisk sea breeze would surely unnerve them.

  The rowboat came alongside the Bride and Kitty made sure all their luggage was securely closed, before tightening her shawl around her shoulders. She would usually climb the ship’s ladder to board, but today she asked for a chair to be lowered so she could take Amber up on her lap. Although she was an agile little girl, Kitty was worried about her slipping and falling if she became frightened. But as the chair swung gently on its slow ascent up to the gunwale, Amber merely grinned and gave the occasional hoot of excitement as though it were all a great adventure.

  By this time the barge had arrived and, above the rhythmic splashing of the sea against the hull of the Bride, Kitty could hear the hollow ring of the horses’ hooves as they stamped nervously. When the winch was lowered this time it had a wide canvas sling attached, which Mr Leach unclipped, passed beneath the belly of the grey, then fastened again. Kitty winced and closed her eyes as the grey squealed and kicked as she was lifted, smashing the top rail of the pen, but opened them again in time to see her being lowered gently onto the deck, where she staggered once, then righted herself. The bay followed, a little less noisily but equally inelegantly.

  Kitty took their lead ropes and led them into a covered pen on the deck, where they were going to have to spend the afternoon and night until the Irish Bride dropped anchor at the Bay of Islands and they were once again taken ashore. She gave them a carrot each and, with Amber, stayed with them until they had settled somewhat. By that time the Bride had unfurled her sails and was turning with the tide to head out into the Rangitoto Channel.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Bay of Islands, May 1845

  When the Irish Bride arrived in the Bay of Islands the next morning, Kitty noted that, along with the Katipo, there were several government vessels moored in the harbour, flying the Union Jack. But there were fewer military ships at anchor than the Auckland Times had implied, and she wondered whether they were further up the coast on some manner of sortie.

  ‘Does the mission station here have a barge?’ the Bride’s surly captain asked as he joined Kitty at the ship’s rail.

  ‘No, I don’t think so,’ she said. ‘Actually, I don’t know.’

  ‘In that case, there will most certainly be a problem getting your animals off this ship,’ the captain said shortly.

  Kitty looked at him. ‘Then I shall have to go ashore and see what I can arrange.’

  The captain, who was very keen to move on out of the harbour’s rebel-infested waters, replied, ‘Yes, you will. And I’d thank you to do it sharpish. I’ve the rest of the passengers to disembark across the bay.’

  Not waiting for a chair this time, Kitty went down the ship’s ladder with Amber clinging to her back like a little monkey and Simon waiting in the boat below with Bodie. Their luggage was sent down and the crewmen set out for the Paihia shore.

  As they neared, Kitty could see the mission’s animals grazing contentedly in their enclosures, and a cluster of chickens pecking at the grass beyond the sand; the little settlement certainly didn’t look like a town in the middle of a war. A few minutes later the rowboat grounded on the beach and a crewman jumped out to hold it steady. Unlike their previous arrival when almost all of Pukera had turned out to meet them, this time only a few curious Maori children loitered on the beach. But as she waded through the shallow waves lapping onto the sand, Kitty spotted Albert, Rebecca Purcell’s boy, among them.

  He approached as Kitty stood wringing the sea water from her hem.

  ‘Hello, Mrs Farrell,’ he said with a smile. ‘We didn’t know you were coming back today.’ Then he noticed Simon. ‘Morning, Mr Bullock.’

  ‘Good morning, Albert,’ Simon replied, decanting Bodie from his knapsack. ‘Is your father about?’

  ‘No, he’s over at Waitangi this morning.’

  ‘Reverend Williams?’

  ‘He’s at Waitangi as well.’

  Bodie looked about, sniffed the air, then bolted across the sand and disappeared into the long grass.

  ‘You don’t know where my husband is, do you?’ Kitty asked hopefully.

  Albert shook his head. ‘He’s been away for a couple of weeks now. Him and his crew. Except for that French fellow, I think he went back out to Captain Farrell’s schooner.’

  Kitty’s heart sank with a disappointment so sharp she felt momentarily sick. ‘Well, who is here then? We have a small problem and we need some help.’

  Frowning, Albert said, ‘No one, really.’ Then his face lit up. ‘No, I think Mr Haunui and Mr Jenkins are in the carpentry shop. Shall I fetch them?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ Kitty said, removing her bonnet and tucking stray locks of hair behind her ears.

  Albert’s eyes settled on Amber, who was still standing in the shallows, watching something near her feet. Then she crouched and snatched an object out of the water—a starfish, which she held aloft, grinning.

  ‘Who’s that little girl?’ he asked curiously.

  Kitty said, ‘She’s mine, actually. Her name is Amber.’

  Too polite to ask anything else, although he clearly wanted to, Albert only nodded and trotted off up the beach.

  Kitty and Simon set to piling u
p the luggage as it was unloaded from the rowboat until Albert returned a few minutes later with Haunui, Tahi, Caleb Jenkins and Rebecca Purcell.

  ‘Kitty, you’re back! How lovely!’ Rebecca exclaimed happily and pecked Kitty on the cheek. ‘And who do we have here?’ she asked brightly, nodding at Amber.

  Kitty extricated herself from Haunui’s bear-hug and nodded warmly at Caleb Jenkins.

  ‘Rebecca, this is Amber,’ Kitty announced. ‘My daughter.’

  Rebecca’s eyes widened comically and Kitty laughed. ‘I’ve adopted her,’ she explained, then added, ‘After a fashion. But I’ll tell you about all that later. Right now, we need some help.’

  Haunui, who was squatting in front of Amber and speaking to her in Maori, glanced up, alarmed. ‘What is it? What is wrong?’

  The sharp look of consternation on his face told Kitty that, although Paihia appeared quiet, the situation had obviously been very tense of late. ‘It’s nothing serious,’ she said quickly. ‘Does the mission have a barge?’

  Caleb Jenkins answered. ‘No, only a pair of rowboats.’

  ‘Damn,’ Kitty said, for a moment forgetting she was now back in Church Missionary Society territory. ‘I have two horses on the Irish Bride.’ She pointed out into the harbour. ‘And I need to get them ashore but I’m not quite sure how.’

  One of the crewmen from the ship’s boat called, ‘Hurry up, if you please, missus.’

  Haunui stood, grunting slightly. ‘We will swim them in.’

  ‘That sounds rather dangerous,’ Simon said.

  ‘No, it is easy, if they do not whakaoho,’ Haunui replied.

  Simon looked doubtful. ‘Yes, well, they both panicked when they were taken on board at Auckland.’

  ‘No, only the grey,’ Kitty reminded him. ‘How would you do it, Haunui?’

  ‘Put them in the water, tie a rope around their heads and swim with them. We have brought cattle and bullocks ashore that way.’

  Kitty could see no other option, and she trusted Haunui to know what he was doing, so she climbed into the boat with him, leaving Amber on the shore with Simon.

  As the crew pushed off, Haunui said, ‘It is good to have you back, Kitty.’

  Kitty met his eye. ‘I stayed away as long as I could, but I had to come back, Haunui. I just had to.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, patting her hand.

  ‘Albert said Rian has been away for some weeks. Do you know where he is?’

  ‘There was a battle at Puketutu five or six days ago. I know he was there,’ Haunui admitted.

  ‘Yes, we read about that in the paper. But where is he now?’

  ‘Not too far away, I hope,’ Haunui replied, although he didn’t sound very convinced.

  They were silent for several minutes, then Haunui remarked, ‘The little girl does not say much.’

  ‘She doesn’t say anything. I think she’s mute.’ And Kitty gave him a quick explanation of how she had found Amber, and what her kinswoman had said about her.

  Haunui shook his head in sad resignation. ‘What will Rian think about her?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Kitty replied uneasily. ‘People keep asking me that.’

  Soon they had come alongside the Irish Bride, and Haunui suggested that the less excitable horse should be lowered into the water first. Kitty relayed the instruction up to the captain, who was leaning impatiently over the rail, and several minutes later they heard the winch start to turn as the bay was hoisted above the gunwale above them. Hastily, the crew manoeuvred the rowboat out of the way.

  The winch descended slowly, the bay hanging limply and bumping gently against the hull. He struggled slightly as he met the water, but Haunui slipped out of the rowboat and paddled over to take hold of his head halter and attach a rope to it. Kitty talked constantly to the horse and when he had calmed, Haunui unfastened the sling around the horse’s belly and signalled for the winch to be wound up again. The grey followed and when Haunui had fastened a rope to her halter as well, then removed the sling, he set out for the shore in a sort of sideways stroke, both ropes looped around his arm.

  The crewmen in the rowboat followed at a distance that wouldn’t frighten the horses, who were soon almost towing Haunui in their desperation to reach solid land. Ashore once again, Kitty thanked the crewmen and they struck out for the Irish Bride, already turning to cross the harbour.

  The horses stood on the sand shaking themselves like enormous dogs and looking happier than they had since the previous afternoon. Kitty found another carrot in her pocket and gave them half each.

  ‘They are fine horses,’ Haunui said, water dripping from his wiry hair and his clothes. He raised his eyebrows. ‘I think just right for tracking people across-country?’

  ‘Something like that,’ Kitty said, wiping horse slobber off her hand.

  By this time Sarah and her housegirls, Ngahuia and Rangimarie, were also on the beach, along with Eliza Henry, Charlotte Dow and several of Rebecca’s children.

  Sarah embraced Kitty. ‘It’s lovely to have you back, dear,’ she said. ‘And Simon has said you have become the guardian of this delightful little child?’

  ‘Yes. Her name is Amber.’

  ‘And what will Rian have to say about that, I wonder?’

  Kitty rolled her eyes and opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a childish bellow of anger; Tahi was lying on his back in the sand, where Amber had evidently just shoved him. He kicked out at her with his bare foot, but she jumped nimbly out of the way.

  ‘What are you doing down there, boy?’ Haunui asked his grandson.

  ‘She pushed me down!’ Tahi complained loudly, his face contorting with outrage.

  ‘Why?’ Haunui asked.

  ‘I only said she was rude for not talking to me, Koro. And then she pushed me down!’

  ‘Oh, Tahi,’ Kitty said gently, ‘she can’t talk. She’s mute.’

  Tahi climbed to his feet and glanced from Kitty to Amber, then back at Kitty again. ‘What is mute?’

  ‘It’s what I just said,’ Kitty replied. ‘It means she’s unable to talk.’

  ‘So you say to her you are sorry, boy,’ Haunui ordered.

  Amber was now standing well out of range behind Kitty, but Tahi walked slowly over to her and said stiffly, ‘I am sorry for being rude.’

  Kitty touched him on his shoulder. ‘She doesn’t understand English, sweetheart.’

  He looked up at her. ‘Does she understand Maori?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Kitty said. ‘Perhaps a little bit.’

  ‘Did her mama and papa not teach her?’ Tahi asked.

  ‘She’s never had a mama or a papa,’ Kitty explained.

  So Tahi apologised again, this time in Maori. Amber stared at him for a moment, her head on one side and her dark shining hair falling over her face. Then she smiled, reached out to touch the end of Tahi’s nose and giggled.

  ‘Does she like me?’ Tahi asked, surprised.

  Exchanging an amused glance with Kitty, Haunui said, ‘Perhaps she does, boy, perhaps she does.’

  Kitty made sure that Amber was sitting safely in the centre of the small waka and holding onto Bodie firmly, then pushed off from the shallows. As soon as the waka was free of the sand she stepped in, sat down and took up the paddle.

  ‘All right?’ she said to Amber sitting behind her.

  Amber only blinked at her, but Bodie, in a headlock under Amber’s arm, let out a muffled squawk.

  ‘You can probably let her go now, sweetheart,’ Kitty suggested, but Bodie was already wriggling free. She stepped daintily past Kitty and sat down in the prow of the waka, the stiff sea breeze ruffling her whiskers and turning one of her ears inside out.

  Kitty soon found her rhythm with the paddle and struck out for the Katipo, anchored in the middle of the bay. She knew that if anyone had an idea of Rian’s whereabouts it would be Pierre, providing he was indeed aboard.

  The wind grew stronger as she paddled beyond the shelter of the small island of Motu
maire and out into the more open waters of the bay. The skies had darkened during the morning and were threatening rain, but Kitty couldn’t smell it yet, which meant they might be lucky and stay dry. Her arms were aching already; clearly, ten weeks languishing in Auckland had made her soft. Behind her, Amber chuckled as a sea bird ponderously launched itself from a wave and flapped heavily along until it caught the wind and began to rise.

  ‘I once lost a very good bonnet on this harbour, you know,’ Kitty said conversationally. ‘Not quite here, though. I think it was a little closer to Kororareka.’

  She wondered sadly if Amber would ever speak, and how they would communicate if she never did. When she had been a child herself, there had been a family in Dereham with a girl of Kitty’s age who was profoundly deaf and, as a result, as good as mute. She could make noises, and did so frequently, but they were awful sounds—grunts and strange loud groans that had always frightened Kitty. At least Amber didn’t do that. And often, she did appear to be listening when people spoke to and around her, and occasionally even seemed to respond. On board the Irish Bride, Kitty had shouted at her for hanging over the ship’s rail and she had stepped quickly away from it. She supposed they could get by with a system of pointing at things and some sort of sign language if they had to, but she was sure that behind Amber’s silent mouth there was a very quick mind. So why couldn’t, or wouldn’t, she speak?

  Perhaps a specialist physician in London might know, Kitty thought as she gritted her teeth against the cramps that were now beginning to grip her shoulder muscles. Yes, that’s what they would do—they would take her to London and have her seen by an expert. Doctor Moffitt had been kind and very efficient, but by his own admission unfamiliar with the field of medicine that concerned speech, so perhaps he had missed something that someone with more knowledge and experience might pick up. The thought gave Kitty hope, and spurred her to paddle the last aching furlong until she reached the Katipo.