Sentence of Marriage (61 page)

‘Yes. She was a fine woman. I only wish I’d given her a better life.’

‘You loved her, Pa. That’s enough.’

‘I certainly did.’ He cleared his throat noisily. ‘Let’s go and see about this dinner before you nod off again.’

Jack took her along Customs Street to the Thames Hotel. Amy found herself seated opposite her father at a white-clothed table set with shining silver cutlery. She was too overwhelmed to select from the menu flourished before her, so she let her father choose for them both.

She enjoyed her first experience of dining at a hotel, though she did indeed come close to dozing off again between the roast chicken and the apple charlotte. Jack persuaded her to try a small glass of Madeira, which Amy assumed to be some sort of coloured lemonade and which made her even sleepier.

Her father took her back to the boat well in time for the sailing, and Amy found the fresh breeze from the sea revived her wonderfully. She half-expected her father to hurry her below deck as Susannah had, but Jack showed no sign of wanting to be rid of her. Instead they stood on the deck as the ship slowly made its way out of the harbour on a delightfully flat sea, and Jack told her what he could about the places they passed.

‘This bare-looking island’s Rangitoto,’ he said. ‘They say it’s a volcano, that’s why there’s not much growing on it. The one next to it’s Motutapu, looks like decent grazing. On the other side we’ve got Brown’s Island. In the summer they take excursion boats out to all these places. I remember Susannah telling me about them when we went up to Waiwera.’

The grassy islands were jewel-bright in the setting sun. Amy looked about her with interest, but she soon grew tired of standing. She leaned more heavily on the rail. Next moment she jerked her head back, and realised that she had very nearly gone to sleep standing up.

Jack slipped his arm around her. ‘You’re pretty weary, aren’t you? I’d better take you to bed.’ He guided her to the ladies’ cabin and gave her into the care of an attentive stewardess. ‘She hasn’t been well,’ he explained. The motherly-looking woman clucked over Amy.

‘Poor little thing,’ she said, leading Amy to a bunk. ‘You look terribly thin in the face. Never mind, you have a good sleep and you’ll feel better in the morning.’ She helped Amy undress, and Amy stayed awake just long enough to ask the woman to put her hat away carefully.

Nausea woke Amy in the early hours when the boat was well out of the sheltered Waitemata. She leaned over the familiar bucket, but the sickness was not nearly so violent as on her previous voyage. Once her stomach was empty she managed to drift back to sleep, and the stewardess had to wake her for breakfast. Amy was surprised to find she felt able to eat. She joined her father in the saloon and tucked into a plate of sausages and mashed potatoes. ‘I’ve hardly been sick at all this time,’ she said.

‘It’s a calm trip, especially now we’re around the Coromandel. All that fresh air you got before you went to bed probably helped.’

They disembarked at Tauranga and went for a short stroll till Amy again felt too weak to walk, then they sat on the wharf until the
Staffa
was ready to sail. Amy had no intention of sitting in the smelly little ladies’ cabin of the small boat this time; instead she stayed on the deck with Jack all day, well away from the engine fumes, breathing deeply of the sea air. She lost her lunch when the
Staffa
rolled its way clumsily across Ruatane’s bar, but it didn’t seem to matter.

‘There’s the wharf,’ she said as soon as it came into view. A few minutes later she caught sight of John, and pointed him out to her father.

‘That’s good. I told those boys to make sure one of them was here on time to meet us.’ Jack stood up and tried to make out his son. ‘Your eyes are younger than mine, I’ll take your word for it. Is he by himself?’

‘I can’t tell yet, there’re too many people on the wharf. Why, did you think Harry might come with him? Won’t he be busy milking?’

Jack ruffled her curls. ‘I thought there might be someone who couldn’t wait to see you again.’

‘Who’s that, Pa? Do you mean Lizzie?’

‘I mean your intended, of course!’

‘Oh. Charlie.’
I’m going to get married
. Suddenly a month did not seem very long at all.

November – December 1884

Charlie Stewart was not waiting on Ruatane Wharf, but John was, nevertheless, accompanied by someone who couldn’t wait to see Amy again. As the
Staffa
pulled up to the wharf, Amy saw that a self-conscious looking John was holding Thomas tightly by the hand, despite the little boy’s energetic attempts to pull free. As soon as Amy had made her rather unsteady way down the gangplank, Thomas finally broke away from John and launched himself at her, winding his arms around her legs.

‘Amy, Amy!’ he squealed.

Amy knelt down and gave him a squeeze. ‘Hello, Tommy darling. Did you miss me?’

‘He heard me say yesterday I was coming in to pick you up,’ John said. ‘Then he started driving Susannah mad wanting to know when you’d get back, so she asked me to bring him in this afternoon. You’ve been a brat, haven’t you, Tom?’

‘Yes,’ Thomas said proudly.

John smiled at his little brother. ‘Nah, he hasn’t been bad, really. He gets on Susannah’s nerves, so Harry and me have been letting him hang around with us.’

‘I been milking,’ Thomas announced.

‘Well, you’ve been in the cow shed a couple of afternoons,’ John corrected. He surprised Amy by giving her a hug. ‘It’s good to see you again, Amy. Are you feeling better now?’

‘I’m getting there.’ Amy smiled at him.

‘She’s not very strong yet, but good food and fresh air will soon put her to rights,’ said Jack.

‘Pick me up, Amy,’ Thomas demanded.

‘Oh, I don’t think I can, Tommy. You’re too heavy for me.’

‘Pick me up. Please?’

‘I’ll carry you, boy.’ Jack hoisted Thomas onto his shoulders. ‘John, you carry our stuff. Take my arm, Amy.’

Amy leaned gratefully on her father. He helped her into the buggy, sat beside her and took up the reins. Thomas squeezed between them, leaving John to sit in the back seat with their bags.

Thomas clambered onto Amy’s lap and wound his arms around her neck. ‘You got a lap again!’ he said in delight.

Amy turned her face away to hide the sudden tears. ‘Yes, Tommy, my lap’s come back,’ she said quietly.

Harry saw them from the paddocks, and rushed to greet them as the buggy pulled up to the house. ‘I’m glad you’re home, Amy. You’re looking well.’

‘Thank you, Harry.’
But I haven’t been ill. I had a baby
.

‘I was going to come in and pick you up, but I took the milk to the factory this morning, so John said he’d go.’

‘You
always
take the milk to the factory,’ John said, grinning.

‘Shut up,’ Harry muttered. Amy was puzzled to see a smug expression on his face. She turned to John with a questioning look, and while her father was distracted with lifting Thomas from his seat John leaned close to her.

‘Jane Neill’s staying with the Forsters again this summer,’ he murmured. ‘And the factory’s right next to their place. Harry gets himself invited over there every morning after he drops the milk off. Pa hasn’t noticed yet that Harry takes ages to get home.’

Harry carried their bags into the house while John took the buggy to its shed. Susannah was in the kitchen with George; she greeted Amy with a cool kiss on her cheek. Amy thought Susannah looked rather harassed, and her hair was not quite as neatly pinned as Amy remembered it. ‘Here you are at last. How are you, dear?’

‘I’m tired,’ Amy said, trying unsuccessfully to manage a smile. She saw George hiding behind the table and peeping out. ‘Georgie, don’t you have a kiss for me? You haven’t forgotten me, have you?’

‘You’ve been away nearly three months,’ Susannah said. ‘It’s a long time for a child his age. Don’t be silly, George, here’s your sister.’ She took hold of George’s arm and coaxed him away from the security of the table. He gave Amy a shy smile, then let her kiss him.

‘I hope you enjoyed your little holiday,’ Susannah said to Jack in a voice heavy with sarcasm.

‘Humph! If you call sitting on a boat a holiday. I’d sooner have stopped home and slept in my own bed.’

‘Well, you know I would have gone if you’d let—’

‘I know. I wanted the job done properly this time. Well, we’re home now, there’s no need to go on about it.’

Susannah gave him a cold look, but let the subject drop. ‘I expect you’ll both want to get changed. That dress looks a little odd with a sash, Amy—it’s very creased from travelling, too. I’ve dinner keeping warm.’

Amy changed out of the baggy woollen dress and into a cool cotton frock that hugged her newly-slim figure. She hurried back to the kitchen to find the family assembled at the table. Susannah produced generous platefuls of chops and vegetables, but when Amy tried to cut herself a slice of bread she found it too much of a challenge for her weak arms. She poked at the leaden bread dubiously.

‘I think this bread’s a bit stale—I’m having trouble cutting it.’

‘I made it fresh this morning,’ Susannah said, looking affronted. ‘Don’t you start complaining, everyone else does.’

‘Susannah’s still getting the hang of bread,’ said Jack. He pulled the bread towards himself and sawed off several slices, though not without obvious difficulty, then pushed the bread board back to the centre of the table. Amy took a slice, and found it was almost as much of a challenge to her teeth as it had been to her arm. ‘You fellows been getting on all right while I’ve been away?’ Jack asked. ‘No… trouble?’

‘No, no trouble at all,’ Susannah said hastily, but the black look she and Harry exchanged gave the lie to her assurance.

‘There was no breakfast the first morning,’ Harry said darkly.

‘Shut up, Harry,’ John put in, but Harry ignored him.

‘We had to do a bit of waking up. Had to just about break her door down with knocking.’

‘Harry said “lazy bitch”,’ Thomas volunteered eagerly.

Susannah’s hand snaked out and slapped him on the side of his head. ‘Don’t you ever let me hear you using a word like that again, Thomas,’ she scolded. ‘And don’t make such a fuss, either,’ she said over Thomas’s wail.

‘He did! He did say it!’ Thomas protested through his sobs.

‘There’s no need for you to copy your brother’s rough habits. Stop that crying. Do you want me to tell Papa all the naughty things you’ve been doing? He’ll give you a strapping if I do.’

‘No, don’t tell Papa,’ Thomas pleaded.

‘Why doesn’t she leave the kid alone,’ Harry muttered.

Susannah turned on him. ‘You stay out of it. Teaching my child filthy language!’

Harry glared at her. ‘It’s true. She is a lazy bitch,’ he said to the room at large.

‘Do you see the treatment I get?’ Susannah demanded of Jack. ‘And you left me alone with these two.’

‘Shut up, the lot of you,’ Jack growled. ‘Can’t I eat my dinner in peace? Harry, watch your language at the table.’

‘That’s rather weak, after what he said to me,’ Susannah complained.

‘You shouldn’t have slept in, should you? I told you not to. Stop bawling, Tom, Papa’s too tired to give anyone a hiding tonight. I don’t want to hear another word out of anyone till I’ve finished eating.’

Amy was relieved at the silence that followed. It was obvious that the family had been getting on about as badly as possible. At least her father’s presence would stop them from being too openly aggressive.

She rose to clear the dishes when the meal was over, but she had only picked up her own plate when Jack spoke.

‘Leave those, Amy. You can hardly keep your eyes open, you’d better get off to bed.’

‘I don’t mind doing the dishes, Pa.’

‘I said leave them,’ Jack said shortly. He stared at Susannah as if expecting her to argue, but she contented herself with a resentful look down the table at him.

It was blissful to sink into her own familiar bed with its soft sheets. Amy stroked the crocheted bedspread she and her grandmother had worked together, then she lay back enjoying the darkness. Her bedrooms in Auckland had never been completely dark; nor had the nights been as quiet as this one. She could hear the hooting of a morepork in the distance, and the occasional lowing of a wakeful cow, but there was no noise of carriages clattering or people shouting, and no distant hints of gaslight.

Amy woke to find the early morning sun streaming through her window, and realised she had forgotten to close the drapes. She looked around the room to reassure herself that she really was home, then dressed and went out to the kitchen. She was astonished to find Susannah already there, in her dressing-gown and with her hair loose.

‘Oh, I thought you’d still be asleep.’

‘I’m not allowed much sleep these days,’ Susannah grumbled. ‘I have to get up at the crack of dawn. I thought you’d sleep in this morning.’

‘I want to get strong again, and I won’t unless I do some work. I can make breakfast if you want to have a sleep.’