All I See Is You

by Lily Hammond

  Clemency found she didn’t really want to answer. Reflexively, she smiled. ‘She is recently arrived from England,’ she said.

  Libby nodded. That went quite some way to explaining things. She straightened, leaned forward confidentially in her seat. She could afford to be magnanimous now. ‘I’m sorry for you,’ she said, and reached out her hand, touching Clemency on the wrist and smiling. ‘That’s a tough break.’

  Clemency looked down at Libby’s fingers on her wrist. Her mind returned to the touch of Eliza’s hands on her skin instead. She shivered.

  Libby was still curious about Clemency’s affair, although two meetings could hardly be called a relationship, and so she put it from her mind, because what was far more interesting to her was the way Clemency was reacting to the touch of her fingers on Clemency’s skin, and the ripple of a shiver Libby could feel going through her companion.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  She parked her motor car on the street, not wanting to disturb the household by pulling into the driveway. Or more specifically, Clemency admitted, closing the driver’s door with a small click, she didn’t want Eliza to know she was there.

  The thought made her look up at the house, wondering which window belonged to Eliza, and then shaking the notion away. Her mouth tasted of wine and coffee and she pursed her lips against it. It tasted of something else too, but she wasn’t ready to think of that.

  She walked up the driveway, her brogues crunching softly on the gravel, and let her eyes adjust to the dimness. The lights on in the big house glowed, but she was hoping to catch Maxine sitting under her tree.

  Which was what Maxine was doing, puffing away on her pipe, enjoying the half hour’s peace. This time of the evening was always her own, and no one except for Ruth ever disturbed her. The ladies had learnt this and respected it greatly.

  She watched the tall slim figure wend its way closer through the damp evening and puffed harder on her pipe.

  ‘Evening, Clemency,’ she said, when the woman was close enough to hear. ‘Fancy seeing you sneaking about.’ She glanced at the house, fully aware that Clemency had taken Eliza out again that day. Despite their little chat.

  ‘Maxine,’ Clemency said. ‘Mind if I join you?’

  Maxine gestured at the seating arrangements. ‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘Be my guest.’

  Clemency sat down with a soft sigh and stared up at the thick branches that laced together over their heads, blocking out all but the heaviest rain. The leaves rustled in a small, darting breeze.

  They sat next to each other without speaking. Maxine reached down at picked up the brandy bottle she’d put beside the bench seat, and the second glass. She filled it and handed it to Clemency. Put the bottle back and picked up her own glass, took a sip. It was a good tipple, this one. She’d have to remember what sort it was.

  ‘Fog’s heavy tonight,’ Clemency commented.

  Maxine nodded into the shrouded twilight. ‘You’ll need to take care driving home.’

  ‘I always do,’ Clemency told her.

  Maxine nodded again.

  ‘I gave Libby Armstrong the manager’s position of the George Street studio tonight,’ Clemency said five minutes later. She sipped at the brandy. It was good. Mellow. She didn’t say what else she’d given Libby, the kiss, but maybe she would in a little while. She usually told Maxine everything. Or near enough to.

  ‘And what is our new employee Libby like?’

  Clemency shrugged. ‘Competent.’ She shifted minutely. ‘More than that, actually. She’s very accomplished, and confident.’

  ‘Mmm?’ Maxine looked at her pipe and contemplated refilling it. She decided she would. ‘Attractive?’

  ‘Passably.’

  ‘Passably?’

  ‘I’m sure many would find her very much so.’

  ‘But not you?’

  Clemency sipped the brandy. ‘I did not say that.’

  They lapsed into silence again. Maxine lit the bowl of tobacco and got it drawing.

  ‘Is she single?’ she asked, knowing the answer to her own question.

  ‘Yes. She is.’

  She waited for Clemency to elaborate, but her friend wasn’t ready. Maxine blinked into the darkness. The smoke from her pipe drifted up between the tree’s branches.

  ‘I have to go away for a few days,’ Maxine said.

  ‘A few days?’

  ‘Maybe a week.’ Maxine picked up her glass. It was empty. ‘Perhaps even two.’

  More silence, short-lived this time.

  ‘Where to?’

  ‘The coast. Home’

  Clemency sat straighter. ‘The West Coast?’

  ‘Mm hmm.’

  ‘Why? Is everything all right there?’

  Maxine held her glass up to the fog. The light from the house reflected in the fog and shimmered against the crystal glass.

  ‘Auntie and Mum are fine.’

  ‘That’s good to hear,’ Clemency said with relief. She knew Maxine’s extended family well, had gone on many of Maxine’s yearly visits with her. She couldn’t remember the last time Maxine had been back, though.

  ‘So what’s the occasion?’

  ‘Auntie Hinemoa has requested that I come see her,’ Maxine said, leaning down to fetch the bottle again. ‘Need a refill?’

  Clemency swallowed the last mouthful and held out the glass. Maxine poured more brandy into it.

  ‘What for?’ Clemency repeated.

  ‘I’m taking the girl with me,’ Maxine said, ignoring the question. ‘I’ll drop her off in Greymouth. Get her settled.’

  Silence again, and Clemency stared up at the house. She sipped at the brandy. Remembering how it had been in bed that afternoon. Eliza looking down at her, eyes tilted in a teasing smile through the curtain of her hair. The brandy burned on the way down.

  ‘I don’t want her to go,’ she said.

  The words hung in the air with the pipe smoke.

  ‘It’s not up to you,’ Maxine said, and she sighed heavily.

  Clemency turned to look at her. ‘Why not?’ she asked, suddenly reckless.

  Maxine blinked. ‘Why not what?’

  ‘Why can’t it be up to me?’ Clemency leaned forward. ‘Or even Eliza. Has anyone asked her?’

  Maxine shook her head. ‘She has an offer of work. In case you haven’t noticed, the girl isn’t in a position to turn it down.’

  When Clemency replied, her voice was low. ‘I’ll give her a job.’ She thought about the way Eliza had tasted. Sweet like honeysuckle.

  ‘You’ll give her a job?’

  Clemency nodded. She swallowed, and the brandy rushed through her bloodstream.

  ‘Where? Doing what?’ Maxine almost spat the words. ‘You want to do what? Employ her to be your mistress?’

  Clemency stared at her best friend. The smoke drifted in between them.

  ‘She can work for Riley,’ Clemency said, and her voice was hoarse, like gravel.

  ‘You’ve already got Dot for that position.’

  ‘For me, then. She can work for me.’

  Maxine spat out a burst of laughter. ‘Don’t be an idiot. She can’t work for you.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘What would she do, for crying out loud?’

  ‘She can be my assistant. I’ll teach her. She’s smart enough.’

  Maxine leaned back in her seat. ‘It’s idiocy, Clemency. She can’t speak or read or anything. And it won’t be good for either of you.’

  Clemency didn’t reply.

  ‘What about when you tire of her? What will she do then?’

  ‘She would have a trade, at the very least,’ Clemency said. ‘And a better one than working in a laundry.’

  ‘It’s still ridiculous.’

  Clemency drained her glass. ‘Why?’

  ‘You can’t live and work with her just because you fancy what’s under her petticoats. You don’t even know the girl, and I guarantee that when you do, you’ll be bored. There’s only so much a p
erson like her can do.’

  Shaking her head, Clemency disagreed. ‘No,’ she said.

  ‘No?’

  ‘I don’t think I’ll get bored. I think you’re underestimating her.’ Clemency reached out and put her glass on the table in front of them. She wiped her palms on her skirt. ‘I kissed Libby Armstrong,’ she said. The words burst out, surprising her.

  Maxine squinted at her through the smoke and the drifting fog. ‘What?’

  Clemency sighed. Picked up the glass and looked in it. It was empty, which was probably for the best.

  ‘We had dinner. A few drinks. I escorted her upstairs to her hotel room.’ Her lips were numb from the alcohol.

  Maxine waited. She sat still, frozen, as though any movement would scare off Clemency. ‘And?’ she prompted.

  ‘And nothing. We kissed.’ Clemency put the glass down and tipped her head back to look up at the sky. There was no sky this night. It was all fog, caught in the branches of Maxine’s oak tree

  ‘That’s all?’

  ‘I slept with Eliza this afternoon.’

  Maxine breathed out, pressed her brandy glass against her temple, feeling the cold cut of crystal against her skin. What a mess, she thought. Not like Clemency to make such a mess, she thought.

  ‘What a mess,’ she said.

  Clemency gathered her coat around her and shivered. The air was damp against her skin, in her lungs.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t know what? That it’s a mess you’ve gotten yourself into?’ Maxine stuck her pipe in her mouth and sucked furiously. ‘It’s a mess, mark my words.’

  ‘But she’s going to Greymouth,’ Clemency said.

  ‘You just told me you didn’t want her to go.’

  Clemency bit back. ‘You just pointed out that wasn’t up to me.’

  ‘All right,’ Maxine said, looking at her friend. ‘There’s no problem, except for one thing.’

  ‘What’s the one thing?’ Clemency asked her. The smoke from Maxine’s pipe was comforting. Maxine had started smoking when she was eleven. Sneaking her father’s tobacco and his spare pipe. The smell was part of the familiar weft of Clemency’s life.

  ‘Never mind that for a minute,’ Maxine replied. ‘Do you like Libby? I mean – are you attracted to her? Answer honestly.’

  ‘I always answer honestly,’ Clemency said. ‘To you, anyway.’

  ‘Then be my guest.’

  Somewhere out on the harbour a ship honked mournfully into the fog.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Clemency said at last, shifting again on the bench. ‘I don’t know if I’m attracted to her, or whether the knowledge that she is available is what excites me.’

  Maxine thought on that for a moment. ‘But something excites you? What was kissing her like?’

  Clemency tried to bring it back to her mind, but one of the upstairs lights went out, and she found herself wondering instead if behind that dark glass, Eliza was even now slipping into her bed, her body warm under her nightdress.

  ‘Well?’ Maxine nudged her.

  ‘It was…nice,’ Clemency said.

  ‘Nice?’ Maxine regarded the reply dubiously. ‘Nice is a good start,’ she said. ‘I think.’

  ‘We’ve lots in common,’ Clemency said morosely. ‘The photography.’

  ‘For certain,’ Maxine agreed. ‘The photography. Your age.’ She held up a hand and ticked the points off on her fingers. ‘Education. Upbringing. Career aspirations.’ She smiled. ‘Friends.’ Her tobacco burned and she puffed out a mouthful of smoke. ‘You’d make a very handsome couple.’

  Clemency turned toward her friend. ‘You’ve met her?’ she demanded. ‘You’ve met Libby?’

  Maxine held a hand up. ‘Steady there, Clemency,’ she said. ‘No, I’ve never met her. Regina told me about her.’ She blinked. ‘Described her looks.’

  ‘So you did talk to Regina and Hetty.’ Clemency rubbed her face, tired suddenly.

  ‘They telephoned me when they saw your advertisement.’ Maxine took her pipe out of her mouth and looked in the bowl. It was almost empty. ‘I did not get in touch with them, if that’s what you’re thinking.’

  ‘I don’t know what I’m thinking anymore,’ Clemency confessed. ‘I told Libby I would go house-hunting with her.’ She remembered something. ‘What’s the one thing?’ she asked.

  ‘What one thing?’

  ‘I don’t know. You said there’s no problem, except for one thing.’

  Maxine dropped the hand with her pipe to her lap. She’d lost the taste for the smoke. ‘I wanted you to come with me,’ she said.

  Clemency frowned, not following. ‘Come with you?’ she repeated.

  ‘To see Auntie.’

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Ruth said. ‘So Eliza isn’t going to Greymouth now?’ She stood beside the bed, a freshly laundered sheet folded in her arms.

  Maxine shook her head. ‘No, she is, but for a moment there, I thought Clemency was going to pack the kid’s suitcase for her and cart her off home with her.’

  ‘Clemency was? What, take the girl in, feed her, give her a bed?’ Ruth rolled her eyes. ‘Forget the last part – she’s already taken her to her bed, hasn’t she?’

  Maxine sat down on the side of her own bed with a sigh, and a glance towards the door to make sure it was closed. They didn’t advertise their private life to the women they took in, and there was no need to begin. Then she looked up at Ruth, standing in front of the window with the sun peering in behind her, lighting up the mousy brown hair so that it looked the colour of warm caramel. Ruth’s face was in shadow, so Maxine couldn’t see the expression there.

  ‘She said she had,’ Maxine said on a sigh. ‘Has Eliza said – indicated, I mean – anything about it?’

  ‘I’ve barely seen her. She’s like a ghost, flitting around the place, silent, always peering here and there looking at things.’ Ruth smiled and shook her head. ‘I caught her this morning in the garden, on her hands and knees like a child, watching a bee crawling around on a flower.’ She shrugged. ‘She’s a little odd, but on the whole seems perfectly harmless and maybe not entirely stupid. I think a lot might go on inside her head.’

  ‘I couldn’t imagine not being able to talk,’ Maxine mused. ‘Not unless you didn’t have a great deal of thoughts in there.’ She touched a finger to her head. ‘Anyway. Clemency also took Libby Armstrong out to dinner and then kissed her outside Libby’s hotel room.’

  Ruth’s hands stilled as she stared at the woman she considered her wife. ‘The same day she bedded Eliza? That’s a new one, even for Clemency.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Maxine replied. ‘But that’s what she said.’

  ‘I’m confused. Did she kiss her inside Libby’s hotel room as well?’

  ‘She says no.’

  ‘So, she finds both women attractive?’

  ‘She must,’ Maxine said, and stretched, rubbing her back. ‘I’m hopeful about Libby though. But I can never tell what Clemency will do – you know what she is like.’

  ‘I do know,’ Ruth said, putting the sheet down on the bed and cupping Maxine’s face in her hands. ‘The woman is as stubborn and foolish as you. That’s why you love each other so.’

  Maxine pretended to grumble. ‘Well, even I’ve never been this foolish. Least of all over a woman.’

  Ruth raised an eyebrow, just the one, and smiled. ‘Are you sure about that?’

  ‘Perfectly,’ Maxine replied, drawing herself up and smiling back at Ruth.

  ‘Well, I recall differently,’ Ruth said.

  ‘You do?’ Maxine put her hands around Ruth’s waist, still slim and still one of her favourite places to wrap her hands around.

  ‘I do. I seem to remember a very foolhardy young woman who climbed up the drainpipes to reach my window at the nurse’s residence.’ Ruth blinked. ‘With a rose clamped between her teeth, if I remember correctly, and her skirts hitched up into her drawers.’

  Maxine’s
mouth twitched. ‘The thorns tore my bottom lip.’

  Ruth gave her an arch, feline look. ‘Just as well you were visiting a nurse, then, wasn’t it?’

  Maxine pulled Ruth closer and slid her hands down over Ruth’s round bottom, appreciating the feel of her, even with the fabric of her housedress between them.

  ‘You kissed it all better, as I recall,’ she said.

  ‘You got me thrown out of nursing,’ Ruth said, without rancour.

  ‘And brought you here to be my concubine.’ Maxine rubbed her cheek against the soft roundness of Ruth’s breasts.

  Ruth gave her a playful slap on the shoulder. ‘Get out of here,’ she said, and backed up so that Maxine’s hands dropped from her backside. ‘It’s the middle of the day.’

  ‘And so it is,’ Maxine said, flapping a hand for Ruth to return to her.

  ‘I’ve a million things to do. And you – tell me again why you suddenly have to go to visit Auntie? Why did she call and ask you to come?’

  Her desire shrivelling, Maxine lifted her shoulders in a shrug. ‘I don’t know. I’ve been summoned, is all,’ she lied.

  ‘Yes,’ Ruth said, impatient. ‘But she must have said something as to why.’

  Maxine got up from the bed and turned away so that she wouldn’t have to look at Ruth’s face. ‘There’s some sort of family trouble, apparently.’ She opened the wardrobe for something to do and stared in at her clothes. ‘Although why that would have anything to do with me, I don’t know.’ She turned to Ruth, and this time she spoke the truth. ‘I’m nervous about going,’ she said. ‘I don’t know if I ought to.’

  Ruth was silent for a moment. She was sure there was something Maxine wasn’t telling her, but she let it go. Maxine would have her reasons for it.

  ‘I can’t go with you,’ she said. ‘Someone has to stay here, take care of this lot.’