A Second Chance (52 page)

Frank felt an irrational rush of guilt as he
stepped quickly back from the bed, but when he met the nun’s eyes
he saw a twinkle there. ‘You’d best be getting along,’ the nun told
him. ‘I’ve things to do for this saucy piece. The girl can stay if
she likes, though I’ll be dosing Bridie up before I start on
her.’

Richard went out into the corridor with
Frank, leaving Maisie in the room. ‘She looks pretty bad,’ Frank
said.

‘Yes. The nuns have done fine work cleaning
her up and making her comfortable, but she won’t last long. I
shouldn’t think it’ll be worth bringing Maisie again—another day or
two and her aunt won’t know her. I doubt if she has more than a
week of life left in her, if that. She’s livelier today than she’s
been since I brought her in.’ He gave Frank a sidelong glance, and
smiled. ‘Though I must say you brightened her up rather more than
Maisie did.’

‘I can’t say I grudge it, the poor beggar.
Do you want to know what I gave her five pounds for?’

‘Out of Christian charity, I expect. It’s
none of my business, Frank.’

‘I don’t mind telling you. It was when I
gave Maisie’s father the ten pounds. I slipped Bridie five pounds
as well, just for taking a bit of notice of Maisie.’

‘Well, you obviously made quite an
impression on Bridie Feenan, one way or another,’ Richard said,
still smiling. ‘You might like to tell Maisie her cousins and their
crony have left town—I imagine she’ll be relieved to hear it.’

‘I’ll say she will! They didn’t hang around
long, eh?’

‘No, and I might have had just a little to
do with that, as it happens. I took it upon myself to call on
Sergeant Riley and tell him about an upstanding citizen being
threatened with a knife in front of witnesses. I suggested rather
strongly that it wasn’t something authority could ignore. I’ve
heard since that he paid Feenan a visit—I presume he took a few
burly chaps with him—and gave the fellow to understand that if he
didn’t take himself away from Ruatane rather promptly, the
consequences would be unpleasant. Feenan’s not likely to return,
either, knowing he’d be facing arrest if he did so.’

‘Well, that’s a bit of good news, all
right,’ said Frank. ‘I didn’t think he’d be fool enough to try
anything like that again, but Maisie wouldn’t have been easy in her
mind, knowing he was still around.’

‘No, I imagine not. I’ve found out somewhat
more of what’s going on in her old home—the nuns are rather a good
source of news. Someone from the church has been out there to check
on Maisie’s father, and it’s been decided to ship him off to an Old
Men’s Home. And it seems the family’s many creditors are clamouring
for payment, so the property will be auctioned and any proceeds put
towards the debts. The house will be torched first—it seems
generally agreed that would increase the value of the property
rather than the reverse.’

‘I wouldn’t have the place if it was offered
me for nothing,’ said Frank.

Maisie came out a few minutes later, when
Bridie had lapsed into unconsciousness. Richard went back to talk
to Sister Bernadette, the nun tending Bridie, and Frank took Maisie
out to the buggy. He waited to help her up into it, but she stood
looking across the road. Frank followed her gaze, and saw two young
women there, staring back. They were dressed decently enough,
albeit somewhat gaudily, but the elaborate care with which he saw
several women take a wide berth to pass them told Frank just what
profession they followed.

‘That’s my sisters,’ Maisie whispered. ‘They
must’ve heard about Aunt Bridie.’

Frank studied Maisie’s face, trying to
decide the right thing to do. ‘Do you want to go and talk to them?
You don’t have to if you don’t want to.’

‘Yes,’ Maisie said in a small voice, but she
did not move. She clutched at Frank’s sleeve.

Frank sighed. ‘Do you want me to go with
you?’ Maisie nodded.

It was easy to imagine what the main topic
of conversation would be in many Ruatane homes that evening, Frank
reflected as he led Maisie across the road. “I saw Frank Kelly
talking to a couple of the whores from the Royal Hotel—right there
in the main street!” It was a good thing Lizzie was too wise to be
bothered by such talk; though Frank rather hoped Arthur would not
hear this particular piece of gossip.

Close up, the two looked much younger;
almost like girls dressed up in their mother’s clothes, Frank
thought. Until he looked into their faces, and saw eyes that seemed
far older than Lizzie’s.

‘This is Sally and this one’s Norah,’ Maisie
said. ‘This is Mr Kelly.’ She looked down at the ground.

Sally was easily recognisable as Maisie’s
sister, though she was not quite as small. She had the same sharp
features, and the same dark eyes. The wicked glitter in those eyes
reminded Frank of the first time he had met Bridie. He managed with
an effort not to show any sign of recognition at her name; Sally
Feenan had a certain fame among the young men of Ruatane, and Frank
had occasionally heard her mentioned during his visits to the dairy
factory. He had noticed that the boys who spoke of her in the most
awestruck tones were those who were clearly too young to have
enjoyed her services, and he was quite sure the stories were
exaggerated. But the fact remained that Sally had a reputation for
entering into her work with enthusiasm.

Norah came closer to being pretty than did
either of her sisters. Her hair was thicker and somewhat wavy, and
her eyes were large and a dark blue. They were currently directed
on Frank in such a baleful glare that for a moment he wondered if
Norah had mistaken him for someone else. He saw bitter resentment
there, mingled with defiance and just a hint of something else. She
hid it well, but Frank remembered how Maisie had looked at him
before she learned to trust him. He recognised the same fear deep
in Norah’s eyes.

Frank had never felt the least temptation to
visit the whorehouse, but he could understand why an unmarried man
might occasionally crave some willing female company. But it was
beyond his comprehension how any man could take pleasure in buying
the reluctant services of Norah Feenan. He slipped a protective arm
around Maisie’s shoulders, and blessed the day he had brought her
into his house and away from the shadow of her sisters’ fate.

‘How’s Aunt Bridie?’ Sally asked without
preamble.

‘Bad,’ said Maisie. ‘She won’t last long.
She says it doesn’t hurt any more, though.’

‘Who’d you get this from?’ Norah asked,
fingering the bruise on Maisie’s cheek and turning her glare back
on Frank.

‘Liam.’ From the scowls on her sisters’
faces, Frank was sure they believed her. ‘He caught me and took me
back to the old place. But he,’ she pointed to Frank, ‘came and got
me off him.’ Her eyes met Frank’s for a moment; Frank could see
that she was too shy to call him “Pa” in front of her sisters.

Sally Feenan gave Frank an openly appraising
stare. ‘This is the bloke you live with, eh?’

Frank felt Maisie stiffen under his arm.
‘Maisie lives with me and Mrs Kelly,’ he said. ‘She’s like one of
our own daughters.’

Sally continued to look him up and down.
‘Haven’t seen you at the hotel—or upstairs where we work. You
should come around one of these nights. I’d see you enjoyed
yourself.’

‘Thanks,’ Frank said cautiously. ‘But I like
to stay home with my wife and kids of an evening.’

Sally gave a low laugh. ‘Didn’t know there
was blokes like you. You done all right for yourself, Maisie.’ She
turned to Norah. ‘What do you reckon?’

Norah looked at Frank and nodded slowly.
‘Yes. You done all right.’

She threaded her arm through Sally’s, and
the two of them walked off down the street in the direction of the
hotel, heads held defiantly high.

Frank had hoisted Maisie into the buggy, and
was about to climb in himself, when Richard emerged from the
convent gate and beckoned him over.

‘I spoke to the Mother Superior a few days
ago about Maisie’s problem with proving her age,’ Richard said.
‘She said she’d see what she could do. I’ve just spoken with her
again, and she gave me this for you.’

He handed over a sheet of paper, tightly
rolled and tied with a thin ribbon. ‘I think you’ll find this has
as much legal force as a birth certificate would. It’s Maisie’s
baptismal certificate. She’s most definitely of full age—and she
has the right to say where she lives.’

Daisy was almost three months old, and in
Amy’s opinion an enchanting child. She was as good a baby as David
had been, sleeping through much of the night and easy to coax to
smiles and giggles when she was awake. Amy delighted in any
opportunity she had to play with Daisy and hear that magical little
laugh, or just to sit with the baby on her lap, seeing those clear
blue eyes turned on her, still with a touch of wonder in them at
the newness of the world.

Such opportunities were not common. Now that
Beth had regained much of her former strength, she spent all the
time she could out and about on the farm with David, but she had no
intention of leaving Daisy behind. She fashioned a carrying sling
out of an old sheet, and she would set off with the baby nestled
cosily in it, but somehow if the three of them came back to the
house together David would always have persuaded her to let him
carry Daisy.

Lizzie did not approve of all this. ‘You
shouldn’t cart her around like that all the time,’ she told Beth
when she heard what was going on. ‘Babies need their sleep. You
just get her settled down in her cradle before you go wandering off
with Dave.’ Beth listened politely, and with what appeared to be
careful attention, then proceeded to ignore her mother’s
advice.

Only if Daisy happened to be asleep when
Beth decided to go out with David would Amy find herself left in
charge, and only if Daisy then happened to wake up before her
mother returned did Amy have an excuse to take her out of the
cradle and play with her. She knew she should leave Daisy to soothe
herself for a few minutes rather than rushing in to pick her up,
but somehow she always found she was by the cradle moments after
hearing the first hint of a cry.

A good start had been made on the new house
during May, but things had come to a standstill after that. There
had been a spell of wet weather, and now Frank and his sons were
busy on work that had to be done on Frank’s new farm before spring.
David had done a little on the house since then, but there were not
many tasks that could be done by one person. He accepted the delays
patiently enough, knowing Frank would come back to it as soon as he
could spare the time.

Amy enjoyed seeing David’s delight in his
baby daughter. She was sure he would never be afraid of spoiling
Daisy by showing her too much affection. If firmness was ever
needed, Amy strongly suspected it would be up to Beth to provide
it.

David and Beth had both changed since
Daisy’s birth; even more than might have been expected from such a
momentous event in their lives. When Amy saw them together, she was
struck by how careful they often were of each other. It was not
awkwardness or distance; it was a tender attention to the other’s
comfort, so foreign to Amy’s own experience that she watched it
with something like awe.

Richard had visited several times recently.
Amy had wondered if he was anxious about Beth’s health, but when
she cautiously asked if all was well, Beth assured her that Richard
said both she and Daisy were in fine form. Perhaps, Amy thought,
Richard felt a special interest in Daisy because of his own role in
her delivery; especially since he was also her godfather. It was
not hard to understand why anyone would want to spend time with
Daisy.

One Monday afternoon Amy carried a pile of
freshly laundered bed linen into David and Beth’s bedroom, where
Beth had just settled Daisy into her cradle after feeding her. Amy
placed the sheets and pillowcases on the end of the bed. As she
turned to leave the room, a strange looking object on the
windowsill caught her eye.

‘What’s that?’ she asked, moving a little
closer to get a better look at the thing. It was round, an inch or
two in diameter, and appeared to be made of rubber.

Beth glanced around. When she saw where Amy
was looking, her eyes widened in alarm. She moved quickly to the
windowsill, snatched up the rubber object, and shoved it into a
small box that she picked up from a chair beside the bed.
‘Nothing.’ She sat down on the bed and stared at her lap. ‘It’s
nothing.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy,’ Amy
said, startled at the strength of Beth’s reaction. She made to
leave the room, but she had only taken a few steps when Beth spoke
again.

‘I’m not supposed to have any more babies.’
Her eyes were still downcast, and she was fiddling distractedly
with the box in her lap.

Amy sat on the bed beside her. ‘Yes, I know.
Your ma told me. I thought I’d wait and see if you wanted to tell
me yourself.’

Beth raised her eyes to meet Amy’s. ‘I don’t
really mind about not having any more babies, not when I’ve got
Daisy. I suppose it would’ve been nice for Davie to have a son, but
he says he doesn’t mind either, and he really loves Daisy, and I
can help him on the farm, especially when Daisy gets a bit older—I
can milk and things.’ She paused for breath, then seemed in no
hurry to continue.

Amy sat and waited patiently, careful not to
press Beth into saying more than she wanted to.

‘It’s just… we have to make sure I don’t
have any more,’ Beth said at last. ‘And Davie said he’d try… But
it’s hard, Aunt Amy. It’s hard to say we’ll never… He was talking
about going back to his old room out on the verandah, but I said
that wouldn’t be right… And it was getting like he was scared even
to have a cuddle or anything…’