‘Then I’ll buy it myself. I’ve got my own money.’
‘What?’ Sarah said, clearly startled. ‘Enough for a passage?’
Amy nodded. ‘It’s in the bank, but I’ve got my bank book, and Tom gave me a letter I can show them at the bank up here and get some money out.’
‘You have your own bank account?’ Sarah looked more astonished than ever.
‘Yes. Pa left me an annuity, so I’d always have some money of my own.’
‘That was remarkably enlightened of him. More so than I would have expected. Well, since you’re so set on it, we’ll go into town this afternoon and book a passage for you. I’ll pay for it, of course—it was my idea to bring you up here, after all. And just what do you think he’s supposedly so anxious about?’
‘It’s something he doesn’t want to put in a letter. I’ll see if Lizzie says anything about it.’
‘Hmm. I’d be a little more inclined to take all this seriously if Mrs Kelly thinks it’s important.’ Sarah drummed her fingers on the table while Amy opened Lizzie’s envelope and quickly read the letter it contained.
Lizzie’s letter was almost as short as David’s. ‘She says more or less the same as Dave,’ said Amy. ‘Apart from a bit about Benjy getting a new tooth, she just says, “We need you to come back home. Things are in a bit of a muddle.” I wonder if it’s to do with money,’ she said thoughtfully.
‘What do you mean, Amy?’
‘Well, it’s something Dave’s embarrassed about, I think. That’s why he doesn’t want to put it in a letter. And Lizzie always leaves things to do with money up to Frank, so she wouldn’t know the ins and outs of it. If Dave’s got into a muddle to do with the farm owing money, or something like that, he’d need me to come and look at things.’
‘But couldn’t someone down there help him, if he’s in difficulties of that sort?’
‘Yes, Frank would always help him out, he’d be only too glad to. But if there’s anything that needs signing, I’d need to be there, because Dave’s under age. Charlie left the farm to him, but he made me Davie’s guardian, and I’m the…’ she struggled to remember the word, ‘the trustee of the farm. So I’m the only one who can sign things.’
Sarah raised her eyebrows. ‘In the space of an hour, I learn that my grandfather was enlightened enough to leave you an income of your own, and that husband of yours showed more sense than I’d have thought he was capable of. Next you’ll tell me something decent Mr Taylor’s done, and my view of the world will be turned completely on its head.’
Amy sometimes found Sarah’s sense of humour disconcerting, but she smiled and shook her head. ‘I can’t think of anything just now.’
*
They booked a passage for later in the week, which gave Amy two days for her packing, a visit to a studio to have her photograph taken with Sarah, and some last-minute shopping.
‘I want to buy something for Alice and Nellie,’ she told Sarah. ‘They’ve been so nice, running around after me.’
‘Well, it is what I pay them for,’ said Sarah.
‘I know. I still want to give them something, to say thank you.’
Sarah smiled indulgently. She waited while Amy bought two pairs of gloves for the maids, then took her to a tearoom for afternoon tea.
‘I’ve still got some money left from what I brought up,’ Amy said, counting her few shillings carefully. ‘I’d like to get something for Beth. I couldn’t really have stayed so long if she hadn’t been looking after Dave for me all this time. I wonder if I’ve got enough for a bracelet, or something like that.’
‘I expect you have,’ said Sarah. ‘I know just the place.’
When they had finished their tea, she took Amy to a brightly-lit jeweller’s store, with displays of rings, bracelets and watches that dazzled her. Amy looked at a tray of gold bangles, then reluctantly turned away from them when she saw that the cheapest cost several shillings more than her purse held.
‘What about this?’ Sarah asked, pointing to a brooch on display under glass. She nodded to an assistant, who got it out and passed it to her for inspection.
Amy studied the brooch as it lay on Sarah’s palm. It was a lovely thing; filigree gold twisted into the shapes of leaves and flowers, the petals of the flowers made of tiny gems. And it was clearly well beyond her means. ‘It’s beautiful, but—’
‘But it’s not going to be from you alone. I’m as grateful to Beth as you are for making this visit possible, Amy. So you must allow me to contribute to her gift.’ Sarah handed the brooch across the counter to the assistant. ‘We’ll take this,’ she told the young man. ‘You may put it on my account.’
While they waited for the brooch to be put back into its box and wrapped, Amy held out the contents of her purse. Sarah took two shillings, and contrived to finish the transaction without allowing Amy to see what the brooch had actually cost.
On the night before her departure, long after Sarah thought she had gone to bed, Amy sat in her room stitching at the dressing table set she had been embroidering for Sarah over the last few months, giving thanks as she worked for the electric light that was so much better for the task than candlelight. It was almost midnight before she put in the last few stitches, then slipped gratefully into the wondrously soft bed.
She gave Sarah the set over breakfast the next morning, and was gratified by her delighted response. Sarah insisted on taking the cloths upstairs then and there, and placing them on her table.
‘Though you’re not to think of it as a farewell gift,’ Sarah told her. ‘Because you’re coming back, you see. But I’ll treasure these in the meantime, and think of you every time I see them.’
They both managed to fight back tears when they said goodbye just before the Waitangi sailed, though Amy could see that Sarah’s eyes were suspiciously bright. ‘It won’t be for long,’ Sarah insisted. ‘I fully expect you back here in a few months. I’ll come and fetch you myself if necessary.’
*
Amy stood on the deck, straining her eyes for the first glimpse of a familiar figure on Ruatane’s wharf. As soon as the boat was close enough it was easy to pick out David, towering above everyone around him. When he came onto the boat she rushed to him, put her arms around his waist and hugged him. Then she took a step back to study his face and assure herself that he was well.
He looked healthy enough, but she could see the signs of strain in his face, and guessed that he had not been sleeping soundly. Whatever had made him ask her to come home was clearly preying on his mind.
She tilted her face up for a kiss; after a moment’s hesitation, he lowered his head and gave her a peck on the cheek. His uncharacteristic reserve surprised her, but she put it down to shyness with so many people about.
There was no chance of any real conversation while they were busy retrieving Amy’s baggage and getting it slowed in the gig. When Amy had made a quick visit to the Post and Telegraph Office to send a cable assuring Sarah of her safe arrival, she settled in beside David and leaned her head against his arm as he coaxed the horse into a trot.
‘It’s lovely to see you again, Davie.’ She sat upright and slipped her arm through his. ‘Now, tell me what’s worrying you.’
David looked around nervously. ‘I don’t want to talk about it here.’
After the bustle of Auckland, the streets of Ruatane seemed almost deserted to Amy. But she did not press David; there was no need to embarrass him. ‘Is everyone well? Uncle John and Uncle Harry and everyone next door?’
‘Mmm, they’re all good.’
‘I’m looking forward to seeing Beth again, so I can thank her for everything. How is she?’
‘I don’t know,’ David said in a low voice. ‘I haven’t seen her since last week.’
For a moment, Amy had the foolish thought that perhaps David and Beth had indeed argued over an unsatisfactory pudding. ‘Why not?’ she asked when she had recovered herself.
David looked over his shoulder again. ‘I’ll tell you later
,’ he said, leaving Amy more puzzled than ever.
‘But… who’s been getting your meals on and everything?’
‘I’ve been going over to Uncle John’s for lunch and dinner. I’ve just had bread and stuff for breakfast. Aunt Sophie’s been giving me cakes and things, too, and she did my washing on Monday.’
‘I suppose that’s all right, then,’ Amy said doubtfully.
She waited till they had left the town and were on the beach, out of sight of any prying eyes. ‘There’s no one to hear us now. What is it? What’s happened?’ When he still did not speak, she squeezed his arm encouragingly. ‘Come on, Davie, it can’t be as bad as all that. Whatever it is, I’ll help you sort it out.’
David looked at his hands where they held the reins. She heard him take a deep breath. ‘Beth and me… we want to get married.’
‘Davie!’ Amy said, startled. She had always known, in an abstract sort of way, that David would one day marry, but it had seemed so far off in the distant future that it was as if it concerned someone else, not her little boy. ‘You’re much too young to get married! In a few years, maybe it’ll be time to start thinking about that sort of thing, but—’
‘We can’t wait, Ma,’ David interrupted. ‘We need to get married right now. We have to.’ He turned to look at her; she saw him wince at the dawning awareness he must have seen in her face before he quickly turned away again. ‘Beth’s going to have a baby.’
Beth was a year older than Amy had been when the same thing had happened to her, and David was two years older again. It was foolish to be so astonished. More than that, it was futile. ‘Well, it looks like you weren’t too young after all,’ she said when she could trust her voice to sound calm. ‘I expect Uncle Frank’s not too happy about it?’
‘No, he was really wild. He said we can’t get married.’
Amy nodded thoughtfully. ‘Did he hit you very hard?’
David shot her a quick glance. ‘Not really.’ There was no need to ask if David had fought back; she knew her son too well for that.
‘He thinks I’m a real ratbag,’ David said bleakly. ‘That’s why he doesn’t want me to marry Beth. S’pose you think I’m awful, too.’
‘Of course I don’t! I’d never think you were awful, Davie. We all do wrong things—goodness knows I’ve done my share.’ David looked at her doubtfully, and she smiled at him. ‘But you want to put things right. That’s because you’re a good boy, really. You’re not just going to leave Beth on her own to make the best of it.’
‘No, I don’t want to do that. I want to look after her, Ma. I want to marry her. I would anyway, even without the baby. But we can’t unless Uncle Frank lets us.’
Amy patted his arm. ‘Well, we’ll just have to see about changing his mind. I expect your Aunt Lizzie’s been doing some work on that already. I’ll go and see them tomorrow morning.’
‘I can only take you as far as the gate. Uncle Frank says I’m not allowed at his place any more.’
‘And we’d better do what he says. That’s all right, I don’t mind walking that little way.’
For the remainder of the journey she coaxed small pieces of news from him, in an attempt to lighten his mood. He told her how things were on the farm, what the weather had been like, and how her brothers’ families were, but it was clear that his thoughts were elsewhere. As they passed Frank’s farm she saw David staring intently towards the house, obviously hoping to catch a glimpse of Beth. But no one was in sight.
When they drew up to the cottage, David helped her from the gig and lifted down her bags. As well as the case borrowed from Frank, she had a smart new one Sarah had insisted on buying for her.
‘I thought you’d have a lot more bags than this,’ David said, rousing himself to a show of interest as he carried her baggage up the steps. ‘You talked a lot about dresses and stuff in your letters.’
‘Oh, I left most of those fancy things at Sarah’s—it’s not as if I’ve got anywhere to wear them in Ruatane.’ She smiled at the memory. ‘Sarah says she’s holding them hostage, so I’ll have to go and stay with her again.’ She had only brought one of her three new evening gowns with her: the black satin dress, which lay at the bottom of her new suitcase carefully wrapped in tissue. Beautiful though it was, it could pass as a mourning gown, and now she hoped to wear it at David’s wedding.
While David went back out to see to the horse and gig, Amy changed into a work dress and made afternoon tea for the two of them. The room was tidier than she had expected, given that David had had the house to himself for several days. She found some biscuits in one of the tins, and by the time David came back she had a pot of tea ready.
‘I’ve been so lazy all the time I’ve been away,’ she said. ‘I haven’t done any cooking or anything. I’m quite looking forward to baking again—I’ll make a nice lot of biscuits tomorrow and fill up the tins.’
When they had finished their afternoon tea, Amy used what was left of the hot water to wash their tea things and the dishes from David’s breakfast. She was startled when he picked up a towel and begin drying the dishes.
‘What are you doing, Dave?’
‘Eh? Just helping you.’
‘Why?’ Amy asked, bewildered.
David looked thoughtful. ‘I suppose I didn’t use to. Well, Beth’s been helping me on the farm, especially with the new calves. Then it was hard for her to get everything done inside before she had to go home, so I’ve been helping her a bit, too.’
‘Well, you’ve no need to help me, Davie. It’s just as fast for me to do it on my own and let you get on with your work.’ She retrieved the towel from him and finished doing the dishes.
When David was on his way out soon afterwards to do the milking, Amy took the opportunity to claim another kiss. Again, there was that strange hesitation; and again, he kissed her on the cheek rather than on the mouth. Had he not been so clearly relieved to have her back home, Amy might almost have wondered if she had annoyed him in some way.
She put the puzzle to the back of her mind while she went through the cottage to see what needed doing. The parlour only had to have its fireplace swept out and a new fire laid in the grate; the dust she stirred up could wait another day.
The clothes Sophie had laundered for David were piled on a chair in his room. His bed, with its sheets twisted and blankets flung every which way, had obviously not been made for days. Amy began to make it, then it occurred to her that the bed might have got into such a rumpled state while Beth was still visiting the house every day. These two had not had to make do with furtive couplings in sunlit clearings. She hurriedly stripped the bed and made it up with clean sheets.
The mechanical task of folding David’s clothes and putting them away left Amy free to mull over all that had happened since her return. She had been fondly thinking of David as still her little boy; had pictured Beth keeping house for him almost as two children playing together, the way she had seen the two of them playing since the time Beth could first walk. They had shown themselves to have grown up all too quickly. When Amy had set off for Auckland, she had said farewell to a boy who would readily give his mother a child’s kiss, full on the lips. Now she would have to make do with the careful kisses of a grown son.
Amy hung up the last shirt and closed the wardrobe door. It was a good thing she already loved Beth, she reflected; because from now on she was going to have to share David. And she was the one who would be taking second place in his life.
She had made her way back to the kitchen and begun getting dinner ready before the wondrous realisation struck her: she was going to have a grandchild. That would go a long way towards making up for having to share David’s affections. And it was another reason to do her very best to help coax Frank into allowing this marriage.
After dinner, Amy and David sat talking in the parlour till late. Amy had picked up the habit of keeping later hours from Sarah, and David wanted company. She offered him what encouragement she could, though she could tell from Da
vid’s account that Frank had set himself firmly against the marriage. Amy took quiet comfort in the knowledge that whenever Frank and Lizzie had disagreed in the past, Lizzie’s will had always prevailed.
David kept returning to what was clearly his main concern: Beth’s welfare. ‘I hope she’s all right,’ he said, for what seemed at least the dozenth time.
‘I’m sure she is. Aunt Lizzie will be looking after her.’
‘She was really scared about telling Aunt Lizzie.’
‘Well, she’s got that over with now. I expect it wasn’t as bad as she thought it would be. Aunt Lizzie’s not one for making a fuss when it’s no use.’
‘I wish I could see her, just to see if she’s all right.’
‘I’ll see her tomorrow, and I’ll be able to tell you how she is.’ She studied David’s anxious expression. ‘I expect she’s just as worried about you.’
‘Me?’ David said, startled. ‘She doesn’t need to worry about me! She’s the one with… you know, the baby and all.’
‘I know. That won’t stop her worrying about you, though.’
David yawned, and Amy felt the weariness of her long journey beginning to catch up with her. ‘Time we both went to bed,’ she said, careful to sound cheerful. ‘I’ve got an important job to do tomorrow.’
She leaned over to kiss him goodnight, and let her hand rest on his arm. ‘It’ll be all right, Davie. We’ll work it out somehow.’
13
There was a chilly wind the next morning. It blew stinging rain into Amy’s face as she made her way up the track to Frank’s house. It was a relief to find herself being ushered into the warm kitchen, where she was given the seat nearest the range and a pot of tea was soon set brewing. Beth was nowhere to be seen.
‘Did you walk over here in this rain?’ Lizzie demanded.
‘No, only from your gate. Dave brought me that far.’ She saw Lizzie cast a meaning look in Frank’s direction; he refused to meet her gaze.
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