Sentence of Marriage

by Shayne Parkinson

  She was halfway across the room when she was transfixed by a piercing scream. She was at Susannah’s bedside before she had time to think.

  ‘What’s wrong, Susannah?’ Amy asked breathlessly.

  Susannah was sitting bolt upright in bed. Her eyes were wide and she looked about her wildly, then clutched Amy’s arm. ‘I felt a pain here.’ She put her other hand on her abdomen. ‘The baby’s coming!’

  Stay calm, Amy told herself. She needs me to be sensible now, she’s so frightened. ‘I’ll go and tell Pa.’ She dashed from the room.

  ‘Hurry!’ Susannah wailed after her.

  Where are they? Amy fought down panic. Where had her father said they were going to work that day? Then she remembered: they were fencing in the gully paddock. She set off down the hill at a run.

  ‘Pa!’ she called as soon as she was within hearing. ‘The baby’s coming, you’ve got to hurry!’

  Jack dropped the hammer he was holding. ‘It’s started? It’s about time. Right, one of you boys will have to go into town for the nurse. You’d better do it, Harry, you’re lighter, so you can ride a bit faster.’ For once Harry did not look disposed to argue; he ran up the hill towards the horse paddock.

  ‘Hurry up, Pa,’ Amy urged, taking hold of her father’s arm and trying to pull him along.

  ‘No, I’m too old to run,’ Jack said; though he walked briskly beside Amy, leaving an unconcerned John to carry on by himself. ‘There’s no real rush, anyway.’

  ‘Yes there is,’ Amy said. ‘The baby’s coming!’

  ‘They don’t come as fast as all that, girl. When did it start?’

  ‘Just now—I ran straight down.’

  Jack nodded. ‘That means it’ll be a long while yet. We shouldn’t leave her alone for too long, though. You run on ahead and tell her I’m on my way and so’s the nurse.’

  Amy hesitated, torn between wanting to do as her father asked and fear of what she might have to be part of. ‘You’re… you’re sure it won’t have come yet?’

  ‘It’ll be the fastest child ever born if it has,’ Jack said. ‘I’ve fathered five children—six now—I should know a bit about it by now. Go on, off you go.’ He gave her a gentle pat on the bottom and Amy obediently broke into a run.

  Despite her father’s confident assurances, Amy was apprehensive as she went back into the bedroom. She was relieved to see Susannah sitting up in bed looking less wild. ‘Pa’s coming, and Harry’s gone for the nurse,’ Amy reported, then collapsed into a chair to catch her breath. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘It hasn’t hurt again, but the nurse won’t be here for hours!’

  ‘No, it won’t take that long—they’ll canter along the beach, so it’ll only take about half an hour each way.’

  ‘It’s still going to be ages before they get here, and Edie said the nurse would give me something to stop the pain if it gets bad—what am I going to do?’

  ‘Will it hurt a lot?’ Amy asked anxiously.

  ‘Yes… no… I don’t know. Edie said it wouldn’t hurt much because of the chloroform, but if the nurse doesn’t get here I can’t—oh!’ Susannah suddenly clutched her middle, and for several seconds she looked panic-stricken again. ‘That was another pain—it was stronger this time!’ Amy went to her and put her hand on Susannah’s arm, but her stepmother pushed it away. ‘You’re no help! Standing there looking terrified like that—you’re making it worse.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Amy sought desperately for anything that might help. She recalled an incident two years before when John had injured his foot with an axe, and what her father had done while they waited for the doctor. ‘Shall I get you some whisky? That might stop the pain.’

  ‘Whisky!’ Susannah’s voice was almost a scream. ‘I’m nearly out of my mind worrying about the pain and you offer me whisky! I suppose you think that’s funny. Get out of here—go on, get out of my sight.’

  ‘I was just trying to help—and I can’t leave you alone, Susannah.’

  ‘I don’t want you here. Get out.’ Her voice rose even higher, and Amy left the room helplessly.

  Jack looked surprised when he saw Amy standing in the doorway waiting for him. ‘Why aren’t you with your ma?’

  ‘She doesn’t want me there—she said I made it worse. She’s frightened of the pain.’ The pain must be very bad, Amy thought, for Susannah to be so afraid.

  Susannah’s voice came down the passage. ‘Jack? Is that you?’

  ‘I’d better go to her, then.’ Jack went in the direction of the voice.

  Left alone, Amy looked around for something useful to do. She cooked the rest of the meal so it would only need reheating. She doubted anyone would be interested in eating it very soon, but she couldn’t bear to do nothing. Then she drifted aimlessly around the kitchen, tidying things that did not need tidying and wiping down an already spotless table, listening the whole time for any more cries of pain from Susannah, but all was quiet.

  Jack came out a few minutes later. ‘She wants a woman with her. I’d better go and get Edie.’

  Amy leapt at the chance of being helpful. ‘No, let me go, Pa—please. What say Susannah needs something? She doesn’t want me to go in to her again.’

  ‘All right, I’ll sit with her till Edie gets here—I’m better than nothing, I suppose. You’re faster on your feet than I am, anyway—there’s no need to run all the way, though,’ he called after Amy, who had already set off at a brisk pace.

  Despite her father’s advice, Amy ran most of the way across the paddocks. She was almost out of breath when she burst into Edie’s kitchen, where Edie and Lizzie were preparing dinner. ‘Aunt Edie, the baby’s coming!’ Amy gasped out. ‘Please could you come over—Susannah wants a woman with her.’

  Edie had her apron off in a moment. ‘Right, I’ll walk back with you—Lizzie, you’ll have to finish this by yourself. You can tell your pa where I’ve gone.’

  ‘Is Aunt Susannah having a baby?’ Lizzie affected innocent amazement.

  ‘Never you mind. Tell your pa I’ll be back as soon as I can, but it mightn’t be tonight. Come on, Amy.’ Edie put her boots on and they set off together, at a walk this time.

  ‘How long since the pains started?’ Edie asked briskly.

  Amy was again amazed at the difference in her aunt’s manner from her usual vagueness. Babies were definitely Aunt Edie’s favourite subject. ‘About half an hour, I think. Harry’s gone for the nurse.’

  ‘Good. Nothing much is going to happen before morning, though.’ Edie slowed her pace, and Amy slowed with her. It was a relief to have Edie’s stolid, confident presence alongside her, and she was sure her aunt knew everything there was to know about having babies.

  Edie went into the bedroom as soon as they reached the house, shooing Jack out of the room unceremoniously. ‘It’s no place for men in here,’ she announced.

  Amy thought her father looked relieved at being dismissed. John had come up to the house by this time, and the three of them sat in the kitchen. Twice in the next half-hour they heard a cry from Susannah and the murmur of Edie’s voice. As dusk began to set in Jack said, ‘We might as well have dinner. You can keep Harry’s warm for him, but I’m hungry now.’

  Amy looked at her father in disbelief, amazed he could even think about eating when Susannah was going through this mysterious and terrifying experience. ‘You want to have dinner? What about Susannah?’

  ‘She won’t want anything,’ Jack said, oblivious.

  ‘Oh.’ Amy was briefly lost for words. ‘Oh, what about Aunt Edie, though? She’s had to rush over here without her dinner.’

  ‘That’s right—you go and ask her if she wants any.’

  ‘Me?’ Amy asked doubtfully, but she went into the passage and stopped just outside the bedroom door. ‘Aunt Edie?’ she called.

  ‘What do you want, child?’ came the reply.

  ‘Do you want any dinner? Pa’s going to have his now.’

  ‘Dinner? I am a bit peckish, now I think of it
. I’ll wait till the nurse comes, though, she won’t be long now.’ A long wail came from Susannah. ‘Steady, girl, that’s nothing to yell about. Those aren’t real pains—you’ve only just started.’

  Amy heated up the food. She was just dishing up the meal when they heard the noise of hooves outside. ‘Thank goodness,’ she breathed. ‘It’ll be really dark soon.’

  A few moments later Harry came in, carrying a large cloth bag for the tall, thin woman of about forty who followed him. This was Mrs Parsons, one of the three maternity nurses Ruatane boasted. She had grey-streaked dark hair scraped severely back from her face, and she wore a very plain brown dress under a navy blue cloak. Amy thought she looked like someone for whom even Susannah would have to behave.

  ‘Well,’ Mrs Parsons said, looking at them all disapprovingly. ‘I wish I’d known how far out the back of beyond you people live before I agreed to follow that young man at such a breakneck pace. That was a most unpleasant journey. Now, where is she?’ She took her bag from Harry.

  ‘I’ll show you,’ said Amy, helping Mrs Parsons out of her cloak. She led the nurse down the passage, then pointed at the door that she still felt was forbidden to her.

  When the nurse had gone into the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind her, Amy went back to the kitchen to finish dishing up. Her father and brothers wolfed down their food while Amy toyed with her own, wincing every time she heard a muffled cry.

  The men had almost finished when they were joined by Edie. ‘I’ll leave it up to the nurse for a while. I feel like a good feed,’ Edie said, sinking into a chair with obvious relief. ‘Susannah’s not the easiest of women.’ None of them had anything to say to that.

  ‘Won’t Susannah want anything?’ Amy asked, fetching another plate for her aunt.

  ‘No, nothing in her stomach from now till it’s all over, whenever that is. Mrs Parsons said she had a bite to eat before she left, so she won’t need anything till later—keep her something, though.’

  ‘Poor Susannah. I made her favourite pudding, too.’

  ‘Food’s the last thing on her mind right now,’ Edie said, helping herself to some potatoes. ‘You make her another pudding in a couple of days, she’ll be grateful then.’

  ‘Everything all right, Edie?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Yes, the nurse had a good look, and she says everything’s normal but nothing’s going to happen before morning.’

  ‘That’s good.’ Amy was amazed at how unconcerned he sounded.

  Jack and his sons got up from the table soon afterwards and went off to the parlour, leaving Amy alone with her aunt.

  ‘Aunt Edie?’ said Amy.

  ‘Yes, child?’ Edie looked up for a moment from her pudding.

  ‘Will the nurse give Susannah something to take the pain away?’

  ‘She will when it gets bad. She’s already had an argument with Susannah—your ma wants something now, but the nurse says she’ll have to wait till she’s further along. That won’t be till after midnight, I expect.’

  ‘But she’s really bad now!’

  ‘No, she’s not. She’s just making a fuss, but the nurse can deal with her. Come on, let’s go through to the parlour and see what they’re up to. I’ll have to give Mrs Parsons a break in a couple of hours, so I want to have a nice sit down first.’

  Amy went to the other room with her aunt, but it was even worse in the parlour than it had been in the kitchen. Susannah’s bedroom was just across the passage, so her cries were more audible. John and Harry looked uneasily at the door once or twice, then took the lead from their father and seemed to forget about the drama being played out a few feet away.

  Mrs Parsons emerged from the bedroom around nine o’clock, and Edie took her place while Amy dished up some food for the nurse. She wanted to ask how Susannah was, but Mrs Parsons looked too forbidding to be questioned, so Amy went back to the parlour and left her to eat in peace. The nurse disappeared back into the bedroom as soon as she had eaten, and Edie stayed there with her.

  ‘It’s about time we turned in,’ Jack said soon afterwards. ‘John, you’re sleeping with Harry tonight.’

  ‘Eh? Why?’ John asked.

  ‘Because I’m sleeping in your room—I can’t sleep in there, can I?’ He indicated his own bedroom. There was clearly no point in arguing, so John and Harry went off to their shared bed with only minor grumbling.

  Amy went to her own room, undressed, and got into bed. Despite being tired from all that had happened she could not get to sleep. She tried putting her head under the covers, but she could still hear Susannah’s cries through the wall. Even when she put the pillow over her head, the sounds penetrated faintly.

  Later she wondered if she had nodded off briefly between yells, then she decided the cries were closer together. It must be getting even worse, she thought in growing distress. The thought stabbed through her: What if Susannah dies? For the briefest of moments Amy felt a longing for the life she had had with her family before Susannah arrived, then she was overcome by a rush of guilt. How could she even think such a thing with Susannah suffering on the other side of a thin wall, having Amy’s own brother or sister? Amy sobbed into her pillow over her wretchedness and guilt, finally exhausting herself enough to fall asleep in spite of the noise.

  When she woke a few hours later she lay very still for some time, wondering what was strange, before realising it was the silence. What did that mean? Why wasn’t Susannah making any sound? Her heart started to beat faster. Hardly knowing why she did so, Amy slipped out of bed and made her way carefully across the room through the darkness until her outstretched hands met the door. She opened it as quietly as possible and felt her way along the passage until she stood pressed against the wall just outside Susannah’s room. The door was open, and now she could hear voices murmuring; there was another noise that didn’t sound quite human. Without thinking what she was doing, Amy walked through the door.

  A lamp glowed, so that the bed was in a circle of soft yellow light. Susannah lay inert in the centre of the bed with her legs sprawled awkwardly; there were patches of blood on her thighs. Edie and Mrs Parsons stood on either side of her, and in her hands the nurse held a dark, wrinkled mass that was blotched with blood and mucus. Something that looked like twisted rope hung from the thing and disappeared between Susannah’s legs. Amy hardly glanced at the other women; it was Susannah who held her gaze. Her stepmother was unnaturally still; far too still to be asleep. Her face had a ghastly pallor in the lamplight. Her mouth hung open, a small trail of saliva running from one corner, and her breathing made a horrible, gurgling sound. Amy was suddenly quite sure that Susannah was going to die.

  Amy gave a small cry, and Mrs Parsons looked up. ‘What’s that child doing here?’ she said sharply. ‘Get out of here—this is no place for you.’

  Amy fled back to her own room, flung herself into bed and hid her head under the covers to muffle the sound of her weeping. She’s going to die. I kept upsetting her all the time, and now she’s going to die. I said she was an old maid and she had to take what she could get—Pa said it was bad for her to get in a state, and I upset her. I made her cry. And I thought it was funny when she got a fright about the rooster. And I wished she’d never come, and I kept thinking how nice it used to be without her. And now she’s going to die.

  Amy sobbed until she had no strength left to cry, then she pushed the covers back so that she could breathe and lay exhausted and miserable, wondering when the women would wake her father to tell him about Susannah.

  She heard a noise in the passage, and Edie came into her room holding a candle. Her aunt put the candle on Amy’s dressing table, then sat down on the bed. ‘Poor child, you got a fright, didn’t you?’ she said, stroking Amy’s hair, and her kindness made Amy start crying again. ‘Now, you just put it all out of your head and go to sleep—it’s all over now.’

  Amy sat up against the pillows. ‘You mean she’s dead?’ Dead. The finality of the word seemed to drop like a stone.

>   ‘Dead? Of course she’s not—is that what you thought? No, she’s sleeping quietly now, and when she wakes up she’ll find she’s got a fine son to cuddle. What put that idea in your head?’

  ‘She was so still, and she looked so… horrible. And… that’s how my real mother died, isn’t it?’

  ‘Who told you that?’ Edie frowned at her.

  ‘No one told me, but I’ve heard them talking sometimes—Pa and Granny specially. She had a baby, didn’t she, and then she died.’

  Edie sighed. ‘Well, if you’ve got the wrong idea I’d better tell you all about it or you’ll fret.’

  Her voice took on a different quality, and Amy felt that her aunt was seeing again something that had saddened her deeply. ‘It wasn’t having the baby that killed your ma. She took a chill when she had about two months to go, and she didn’t seem to get better. Then she got a terrible, racking cough that made it hard for her to breathe sometimes.’

  ‘Couldn’t the doctor help?’

  ‘Your pa had him out a couple of times, but he just said she had a bit of bronchitis and she’d get better when the weather warmed up. All the time she was getting bigger and bigger, and what with the cough keeping her awake at night she was just plain worn out by the time the baby came. She had a terrible time having that baby. It was a little girl.’ Edie smiled sadly at Amy. ‘She named her Edith, after me. The little one only lived an hour or so. Your granny said the baptising words over her while your pa went for the minister and the doctor—she was right, too, the baby was gone before they got here.’ Edie stopped, seeing the stricken look on Amy’s face. ‘I shouldn’t be telling you all this.’

  ‘Yes, please Aunt Edie—I want to know, and I don’t think Pa will ever tell me.’

  ‘No, he won’t. It’s not something that’s easy for him to think about. The doctor said your ma had consumption and he couldn’t do anything for her. Your granny and I had to stop your pa from hitting the stupid man when he said it—he made it sound as if he was talking about whether it might rain tomorrow. But he gave her some things to take the pain away, and she didn’t suffer much after that. You came and stayed with me then, do you remember?’ Amy shook her head. ‘No, of course you don’t, you were only a little thing of two or three. I had you for three months. Your ma died two months after the baby, and… well, your pa wasn’t too bright for a while after that, so I kept you a bit longer. My Alf was only a year old, so Lizzie kept an eye on you for me. I remember she said you kept crying for your Mama at night, and she had to cuddle you and kiss you till you stopped. She thought you were her little sister, I think—you both cried when you went home at last.’