Sentence of Marriage (31 page)

Amy drifted round in a dream, but after the first two songs she felt sorry for John, Harry and Bill, who were partnerless. ‘I’d better dance with one of the others—there aren’t enough girls.’ She went over and took John’s arm, leaving Jimmy talking to Bill and Harry. This time Lizzie managed to get Frank onto the dance floor. Amy looked at Frank struggling not to fall over his feet and she had to hide a smile, especially when she saw Lizzie wince as Frank trod on her toes.

She was about to ask Harry if he wanted the next dance, but before she had the chance her brother had led Jane Neill onto the floor, so she danced with Bill instead. Lizzie talked Frank into a second dance, then the first set of songs ended and Bob and Marion took a well-deserved rest.

‘Come on,’ Matt called when five minutes had passed since the last song. ‘Start playing again—I want to dance with my wife.’ He put his arm around Rachel’s waist.

Marion pointed at her throat. ‘Not till I’ve had a decent rest—I’ll lose my voice if I’m not careful.’

‘That’d be a miracle,’ her husband retorted. He ducked as Marion aimed a mock punch at him.

‘Jane, you sing a couple,’ Marion said. Her sister stood beside Bob and began to sing. She had a sweet soprano voice strong enough to be heard easily over the fiddle.

Amy felt she had done her duty by the partnerless men for a while, so she willingly let Jimmy take her by the hand, and abandoned herself to the pleasure of gliding around the floor in his arms.

*

Frank let Lizzie persuade him to dance once more, but when the next song started he looked at the other couples whirling confidently around and decided to give up the struggle. ‘I think I’ve had enough dancing for now, Lizzie,’ he said. ‘Your feet must be getting sore, too—I’ve stood on them enough.’

‘Have you? I hadn’t really noticed. I’m getting tired, anyway, let’s sit down. It’s so hot in here, too.’

Although there were plenty of seats, Frank thought the bench Lizzie chose didn’t seem to be quite long enough for the number of people sitting on it, but the two of them managed to squeeze on at the end. Lizzie fanned herself with her hand. ‘It’s terribly hot in this room.’

‘I’ll get you a drink.’ Frank returned with a glass of lemonade for Lizzie and a beer for himself.

Lizzie downed her lemonade quickly. ‘Oh, I think I might faint, I’m so hot.’

Frank felt a surge of alarm; mostly out of genuine concern for Lizzie, but also in part from fear of everyone staring at them if she were to collapse. Lizzie slumped against him a little, increasing Frank’s nervousness. ‘Do you feel crook? Do you want to go home?’

‘No, I think I’ll be all right if I get some fresh air. I’ll go outside for a minute.’ She stood up. ‘Oh, will you take my arm, Frank? I do feel a bit dizzy.’

Frank put down his beer and took hold of Lizzie’s arm. They walked to the porch and outside into the dim night. The moon had not yet risen, and their eyes took some time to adjust to the darkness. The silk of Lizzie’s sleeve felt smooth under his hand; he was aware of her soft flesh just a thin layer of fabric away. Out of sight of the others he felt suddenly brave. ‘Lizzie, you look nice tonight. You look really nice.’

‘Thank you, Frank.’ He could hear the smile in her voice. ‘It’s much cooler here, shall we sit down for a bit?’

There was a low wooden seat against the outside wall of the school, just around the corner from the door. They made their way to it, walking carefully to avoid stumbling in the darkness. When they sat down Frank kept hold of Lizzie’s arm; he wondered if she would pull it away, but she made no move to.

‘How do you feel now, Lizzie?’ he asked.

‘Much better. Isn’t it lovely and peaceful out here? It’s so hot and noisy in that room. I was tired of dancing, too.’

Frank felt keenly his own lack of skill in that area. ‘I’m not much good at dancing—you should have a go with one of the others. They’re all better than me. What about Jimmy? He’s a really good dancer, you’d enjoy it with him.’

‘No!’ Lizzie said, startling Frank with her vehemence. ‘I don’t want to dance with someone else, especially not him.’ She was quiet for a moment. ‘I’d much rather talk with you than dance with anyone else.’

‘Would you?’ Frank studied her closely. His eyes had adjusted enough for him to be able to make out the pale oval of her face, with her hair even paler around it. She was looking at him very seriously, and for a moment he wondered if she was upset about something. But then she smiled.

‘Yes, I would. I really like talking with you, Frank, I wish we had more chance to. Pa sort of takes you over when you come to our place.’ She shivered a little, and moved closer to him on the bench. ‘It’s a lot cooler out here.’

Frank could feel her thigh pressing against him, and she looped her arm more tightly through his. ‘Are you getting cold? Do you want to go back inside?’ he asked, trying to hide his reluctance to return to the noisy room.

‘Not just yet. Let’s talk a bit more.’

Her face suddenly seemed much closer; he wondered which of them had moved. He stroked the silk of her sleeve, aware of his hand’s roughness on the smooth fabric. ‘I’m not much good at talking, Lizzie. I think about things, but I can’t find the right words.’

‘Sometimes you don’t need words,’ Lizzie whispered, so quietly that he had to bring his face even closer to hers to catch what she said.

Now they were only inches apart. Lizzie’s lips were parted slightly, and he could hear her breathing fast. A wisp of blonde hair had escaped from its ribbon to lie against her cheek. He brushed it away very gently before touching his lips to hers.

He pulled away, astonished at what he had done and half expecting Lizzie to slap him, but when he dared look at her again he saw that she was smiling. ‘Was that all right—you don’t mind?’ he asked unnecessarily. Lizzie nodded, and he could see her eyes shining. For a few moments nothing was said, then Frank asked, ‘Can I do it again?’

‘Yes, please,’ she murmured.

Lizzie tilted her head just as Frank moved towards her, and their noses collided. ‘Aw, gee, sorry Lizzie—I’m not much good at this.’

‘Neither am I.’ There was a hint of laughter in her voice, but Frank was somehow sure she wasn’t laughing at him. ‘We’ll get better.’ Her eyes invited him to practise.

This time there were no mishaps, and when Frank finally lifted his mouth from Lizzie’s to take a gulp of air he realised he had been holding his breath for some time.

‘I think we’d better go inside now,’ Lizzie said, a slight tremor in her voice. ‘We don’t want people talking.’

‘No,’ Frank agreed, despite his reluctance to end the moment. He helped Lizzie to her feet. ‘I hope we can… talk some more soon,’ he said as they rounded the corner of the building.

‘Me too.’

February 1884

Frank was just stepping aside to let Lizzie walk up the steps into the porch ahead of him when a burly figure pushed past with barely a grunt of recognition.

‘That’s Charlie Stewart!’ Lizzie said. ‘What’s he doing here?’

Frank shrugged. ‘Anyone’s allowed to come, I guess. I bet he hasn’t come for the dancing, though.’ They laughed together, and Frank felt a warm glow as he walked into the room behind Lizzie.

‘What have you two been up to?’ Bill said with a smile when they rejoined the group.

‘I didn’t feel very well, the heat was getting me down, so Frank took me outside for a minute.’ Lizzie challenged Bill with her eyes to say any more about it.

Bill laughed. ‘Frank looks as though he got a bit overheated himself.’ Frank felt his face burn, and he looked studiously at the floor.

‘I suppose you think that’s funny,’ Lizzie said indignantly.

‘Well, I’m supposed to look after my little sister,’ said Bill. He slapped Frank on the back. ‘Looks like I don’t need to bother if you’re going to do it for me, Frank.’

Marion Forster had relieved Jane of her singing duty. When the next dance started Harry again claimed Jane as his partner, while Jimmy led Amy onto the floor once more. ‘I see your skirt-hating old neighbour’s turned up,’ Jimmy said.

‘Yes,’ said Amy. ‘He hasn’t talked to anyone, just sort of grunted at a couple of the men and helped himself to some beer, then plonked himself down in that corner. I suppose he’s come for the free beer.’

‘Hmm. That and a look at the pretty girls, I’d say. He’s been having a good stare at all the women—especially you, of course. At least he’s got good taste.’

‘He makes me a bit nervous,’ Amy confessed. ‘He looks so grumpy all the time.’

Jimmy held her more tightly. ‘You’re safe with me, darling.’

‘I know.’ For the next few minutes Amy was aware of no one in the room except the two of them.

When supper time came at ten o’clock she was amazed at how quickly the evening had passed. The supper table was attacked with vigour, and the food was rapidly demolished.

‘Gives you a good appetite, all this dancing, eh?’ Harry said through a mouthful of cold chicken.

‘So does courting.’ Jimmy gestured with his eyes towards Frank, who was devouring a slice of pie as though it was the first edible item he had seen all day; but he spoke too quietly for Lizzie to hear.

After supper the dancing was about to start again when there was a noise at the door. Amy glanced over to see what was going on. ‘Oh, no,’ she said as four young men, all in their early twenties, sauntered into the room. ‘It’s some of the Feenans.’

‘The mad Irish?’

‘Yes. Oh, I do hope they don’t cause any trouble.’

Bob Forster and Matt Aitken walked over to the uninvited visitors. ‘You fellows can only stay if you behave yourselves,’ Matt said sternly. ‘Understand?’

‘Course we will,’ Mike Feenan, spokesman for the group, said. ‘You won’t know we’re here.’ They walked a little unsteadily over to the supper table and picked disconsolately at the chicken bones.

‘Kicked out of the hotel, I’d say,’ Jimmy murmured in Amy’s ear.

‘Hey, red, you going to sing?’ one of the Feenans called, seeing Marion standing by Bob.

She looked at her husband questioningly; he shrugged and picked up his fiddle. Marion began to sing, and the various couples took the floor.

Amy ignored the Feenans as best she could, though every time she and Jimmy danced past the supper table one of them would whistle at her, and occasionally they called out to one another, ‘Here comes the good-looking one again’. It spoiled her pleasure in dancing. When the song ended she was about to ask Jimmy if they could sit down for a while when she felt a hand on her shoulder. It made her jump, and she was even more startled when she turned around to see that it was Mike Feenan standing behind her.

‘What about a dance with me now?’ He pushed his face close to hers so that Amy got a whiff of beer-sodden breath.

‘No, thank you.’ She stepped away from him. He made another grab for her shoulder, misjudged the distance and stumbled, then lunged again, this time making contact. Amy tried to twist away, but he held her tightly. She jerked her head around towards Jimmy in fright.

‘Come on, gorgeous, you want to dance with me, don’t you?’

‘You heard the lady,’ said Jimmy. His mouth smiled, but his eyes glittered. ‘She doesn’t want to dance with you. Take your hands off her.’

‘What’s it to you?’ Mike Feenan jeered. ‘You in your fancy clothes—let the girl dance with a real man.’

‘I
said
take your hands off her.’ Jimmy knocked Mike’s hand off Amy’s shoulder.

Despite the amount of alcohol he had obviously consumed earlier that evening, Mike moved fast. His fist snaked out and caught Jimmy on the chin, and Amy screamed as she heard the crack of bone on bone. Jimmy’s head was jolted to one side. He recovered himself and looked at Mike in naked fury for a moment before swinging his arm to connect with his opponent’s jaw. Before Mike had recovered from the blow Jimmy followed it with another, then a third which saw Mike sink almost gracefully to the floor.

There was a yell of rage from the other Feenans, and they converged on Jimmy hot for vengeance. He faced the three of them with his fists up looking almost eager. Amy thrilled at his courage while at the same time she trembled with fear, but before the adversaries got within a few feet every other man in the room (even Charlie abandoned his mug of beer for the moment) had gathered round Jimmy.

Even in their drunken state the Feenan boys could see that three against ten was not a sensible proposition. They backed off, muttering darkly.

‘Get out of here,’ Matt ordered. ‘Don’t come back, either, if you value those lousy hides of yours.’

‘What about Mike?’ one of them demanded.

Bob Forster brought a jug of lemonade from the table and emptied it over Mike Feenan’s head. Mike coughed and sputtered, then rose to his feet even more unsteadily than before. One of his companions walked over to him and Mike leaned heavily on his shoulder.

‘Go, on, get out,’ Matt said, giving the nearest youth a rough shove to punctuate his words. The Feenans stomped out of the room, casting black looks over their shoulders.