Mud and Gold

by Shayne Parkinson

  ‘Make yourself useful, then—you can take this girl and keep her entertained.’

  There was nothing Frank wanted more. He took Maudie from Lizzie and sat at the table with his little daughter on his lap. Maudie giggled and waved her arms about as he bounced her gently on one knee.

  ‘Have you been a good girl, Maudie? Did you miss Papa today? You were asleep when I came in for lunch.’

  ‘She slept till two o’clock, then she woke up a bit grumpy. I had her out here for a while but she started playing up. I put her back to bed and shut the door on her till she stopped bawling.’

  ‘Playing up for Mama, eh?’ Frank tried to look stern at Maudie, but it was difficult to frown when she was giving him a wide smile, showing her two teeth. ‘It’s no good trying that on, Maudie. Mama’s pretty good at getting her own way.’ He hoisted Maudie high in the air, making her squeal with delight.

  Lizzie stood watching the two of them. ‘She’s going to be pretty good at getting her own way, too. Especially with you.’

  ‘Yes,’ Frank agreed. ‘She’s neat.’ He lowered Maudie to his lap and planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

  Lizzie chattered away about the details of her afternoon as she finished getting dinner ready, then she took the chair next to Frank. ‘It’ll be ready in ten minutes or so, when those peas are cooked. Give her here, I’ll see if she wants a feed before I put her down.’ She unbuttoned her bodice and held out her arms for Maudie. ‘Look at you with all that around your face.’ She wiped the dribble from Maudie’s chin with a corner of her apron before putting the baby to her breast. ‘I think you’ve got another tooth coming through.’

  The baby sucked for a minute or two, then lost interest and gazed around the kitchen, waving her arms aimlessly. ‘No, she’s not very hungry,’ Lizzie said. She closed her bodice and stood up with Maudie against one shoulder. The little girl looked over Lizzie’s shoulder at Frank and stretched out her hands towards her father. She gave a small cry of frustration at being tightly held.

  ‘Does she have to go yet, Lizzie?’ Frank asked. ‘Couldn’t she stay out here with us a bit longer?’

  ‘I’m going to dish up in a minute.’

  ‘I’ll hold her. I can eat my dinner with Maudie on my lap.’

  ‘All right, as long as you don’t drop any food on her.’ Lizzie put Maudie back on Frank’s lap, where the little girl laughed delightedly.

  ‘Of course I won’t drop anything.’

  ‘Just be careful, she’s inclined to wriggle.’ Lizzie brought their plates to the table, then took her own seat and watched the two of them. ‘You’re going to spoil that girl, aren’t you?’ she said, smiling at the sight.

  ‘No more than I do you.’ Frank grinned at her.

  ‘Humph! Eat your dinner before it gets cold. There’s strawberries and cream for pudding.’

  Frank ploughed his way through roast lamb followed by a huge pile of strawberries from Lizzie’s garden, then leaned back in his chair to drink his tea, sipping it carefully to avoid spilling a single drop on Maudie. The little girl’s eyelids were drooping as she snuggled into the crook of his free arm. Frank put both arms around her and squeezed. He looked across the table to see Lizzie beaming back at him, and he thought he must be the happiest man alive.

  ‘I’d better get a bit of material when we go into town this week,’ Lizzie remarked idly. ‘I need a new dress.’

  ‘Oh. How much will that cost?’

  ‘I’m not sure—I need about seven yards, I suppose it’ll be a shilling a yard. I’ll just buy some cheap cotton, it’s only a work dress.’ Frank felt his brow crease in thought, and saw Lizzie frown at his expression. ‘Is that all right, Frank?’

  ‘Hmm? Yes, yes, that’s fine. I was just thinking about something.’ He tried to add up in his head just how much of a bill he had run up in town since he had last settled his accounts. He soon gave up; it was too hard to remember.

  ‘I could make this one do until next summer, I suppose. It’s got a bit of a rip in the back, but I could put a little patch on it—’

  ‘No! I don’t want you wearing patched clothes, Lizzie. You can buy all the material you want.’

  ‘You’re sure? That’s all right, then. I can probably get some for ninepence a yard if I rat around in the shop. You could do with a new warm nightshirt before winter, too, I might see if Mrs Nichol’s got any decent flannel.’

  ‘What about Maudie?’ Frank asked with a laugh. ‘If we’re both getting new things you’d better make her something, too.’

  ‘Oh, Maudie’s the best dressed of the lot of us—all those fancy things Aunt Susannah’s mother sent from Auckland. They’ve done Tom and George and Mal, they’re still not worn out. I’ll have to give the littlest sizes back to Amy soon, now she’s having another one.’

  ‘That Charlie doesn’t muck around, eh? They only got married a couple of months before us, and they’re on their second one already.’

  ‘Jealous?’ Lizzie asked with a wry smile.

  Frank gave a snort at the notion. How could he be jealous of anyone when he had a wife and daughter like Lizzie and Maudie? ‘Of course not. I just thought he’d be too old for all that, that’s all.’

  ‘I think Amy wishes he was,’ Lizzie said, more to herself than to Frank. For a moment she looked sad, then her face set in determined lines. ‘But I can’t do anything for Amy except be her friend. She’s been much happier since she had Mal, too—much calmer, anyway.’

  She leaned across and put her hand over Frank’s where it rested on the table. ‘We’ll have more babies. Lots and lots of them.’

  ‘You’re not worried about it, like you were before we started Maudie?’

  Lizzie shook her head. ‘No, not now I’m sure we know what… I mean, I’m sure we can have babies. I’d rather have a couple of years between them.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Frank gripped her hand more tightly. ‘Tired?’

  ‘A bit. It’s been really hot today.’

  ‘How about an early night, then?’

  Lizzie gave his hand a playful slap. ‘Don’t you ever think about anything else?’ she scolded, but the twinkle in her eyes gave her away. ‘We’ll see. I’ve got a pile of mending to do after I’ve done these dishes—’

  ‘I’ll help you with the dishes,’ Frank offered. After all, if he was honest with himself he had not done a lot of work that day.

  ‘Promise?’ She grinned at him. ‘I’ll still have to do all that mending… well, some of it, anyway. And now I really am going to put that child to bed.’ She walked around the table and took the sleeping Maudie from Frank’s lap. He gave Lizzie’s bottom a light pat as she turned away; she looked back over her shoulder with an expression that made Frank quite sure most of Lizzie’s mending would be left for another day.

  Yes, Arthur took life too seriously, Frank thought as he carried the dirty dishes to the bench. Why should he waste his time worrying about a bit of fence or about the milk cheque being a few shillings down when he had Lizzie and Maudie to think about?

  *

  This time Amy was not going to risk giving birth on the beach. As soon as she felt the first pangs of labour she moved a large pot of soup off the heat of the range, thrust her nightdress and some extra pairs of drawers into the bundle she had had ready for several weeks, and made up a small parcel of clothes for Malcolm, then took him by the hand and went in search of Charlie.

  ‘It’s time,’ she told Charlie when she found him checking the in-calf cows. ‘Can you take Mal to Pa’s?’ She passed Malcolm’s clothes to Charlie, and knelt awkwardly to lower herself to the little boy’s level.

  ‘Listen, Mal, you’re going to stay with Grandpa and Aunt Susannah for a while.’ She saw his mouth move to shape a determined ‘No’, and spoke hastily to prevent him. ‘You’ll be able to play with Tommy and Georgie—you’ll like that, won’t you?’

  The idea of playing with the big boys brought a smile to Malcolm’s face. ‘Yes!’ he said.

  ‘That’s t
he boy. Now, you be a good boy for Aunt Susannah.’ She won’t put up with any nonsense, Amy added silently. ‘Papa will bring you to see me soon. Give Mama a kiss.’

  ‘Uck,’ Malcolm said, twisting away from her embrace. He went off with his father, and Amy made her slow way back to the house to wait for Charlie to collect her.

  I’m not frightened about it this time, Amy thought as Charlie drove her into town. In fact she was looking forward to staying with Mrs Coulson.

  When the nurse closed the door on Charlie and turned to face her young patient, Amy found it easy to return her smile.

  ‘Here we go again,’ Mrs Coulson said cheerfully. ‘Now, let’s take a look at the business end of you, then we’ll see how long we’ve got.’ She bustled Amy into the familiar bedroom and soon had her in her nightdress and lying in bed for the nurse to examine her.

  ‘When did the pains start, dear?’

  ‘Just this afternoon, about two hours ago, that’s all. I haven’t felt any for a while though.’

  ‘I didn’t think so.’ Mrs Coulson lowered Amy’s nightdress and sat on the bed beside her. ‘Well, my dear,’ she said, leaning close and giving Amy a conspiratorial smile, ‘you and I are going to have a nice, quiet evening together. You’ve had a bit of a false alarm.’

  ‘Oh, no!’ Amy said in dismay. ‘What am I going to tell Charlie when he comes tomorrow?’

  ‘Don’t you worry about that,’ Mrs Coulson said, patting her on the arm. ‘By the time he arrives I expect you’ll be well away again, and I’ll just tell him to come back the next day.’ She looked away from Amy and spoke in an apparently offhand way. ‘Even if you haven’t started again, I probably won’t let him see you tomorrow—unless you specially want him to, anyway. See how you feel then.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Amy said, glad to have the responsibility of dealing with Charlie’s possible disapproval taken from her.

  ‘Now, you just lie there and enjoy taking the weight off your feet, and I’ll make us a nice cup of tea, then we’ll have a chat until it’s time for me to get dinner on. You can tell me how that great big boy of yours is doing.’

  ‘I’ll help you with dinner if you like, now the baby’s settled down.’

  ‘You certainly will not,’ Mrs Coulson said. ‘You look worn out, girl. You’ve been running around too much, haven’t you?’

  ‘Well, more waddling than running,’ Amy admitted. ‘Malcolm’s at a difficult sort of age, he takes a lot of looking after.’ She did not add that it took all her imagination to hide Malcolm’s naughtiness from Charlie.

  ‘I thought as much. You’re going to stay in that bed and gather your strength for tomorrow. You can have a doze before dinner, after we’ve had a chat.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think I can sleep in the daytime, I’m not used to—’

  ‘Now, my girl,’ Mrs Coulson interrupted, wagging her finger in a mock scolding, ‘in my house you’ll do as I say. And I say you’re to take things easy. Understand?’

  ‘Yes,’ Amy agreed meekly. She leaned her head against Mrs Coulson’s shoulder and smiled up at her. ‘Thank you.’

  The nurse hugged at her. ‘You’ve a lovely smile, my dear. A pity you don’t show it very often.’

  Amy’s pains had not started again by the following morning. Mrs Coulson let her get out of bed and sit in the parlour, wearing her nightdress and with a knitted blanket over her knees. When Charlie arrived Amy sat very quietly in the parlour and listened to Mrs Coulson sending him away.

  ‘No, she’s not finished yet, I’m afraid, Mr Stewart,’ the nurse said airily. ‘Everything’s going well, there’s no need for you to worry, we’ll just let nature take its course. Sometimes these things take a while. You don’t really want to see her just now, do you?’ This last question was said in such a dubious tone that Amy was not at all surprised when Charlie went away without entering the house.

  Amy got up from her armchair and peeked through the lace curtains to watch Charlie ride away. ‘Maybe I should have seen him,’ she said guiltily.

  ‘Nonsense,’ Mrs Coulson said. ‘You’ll see him soon enough. Stop worrying about him and put your feet back on that footstool. I want you properly rested up before we have to get down to business.’

  In the early evening the contractions returned, this time so strong that there was no doubting they were the real thing. Around midnight Mrs Coulson announced that things were far enough advanced for Amy to have some chloroform. Amy breathed gratefully at the chloroform-soaked cloth, welcoming the numbness.

  Sometime in the small hours of the next morning, Amy struggled through the muffling darkness of the anaesthetic and became aware of a warm bundle in her arms. She half-opened her heavy eyes and saw a small creature with a mop of dark hair.

  ‘Ann,’ she murmured in wonder. ‘My little one.’

  She held the baby close until she felt it being lifted away from her. She tried to hold on, but her arms would not obey her. ‘Don’t take her away,’ she begged. ‘Let me hold her a bit longer. Please don’t take my baby away.’

  ‘Baby needs a sleep now,’ a soft voice said. Amy knew she should recognise it, but her mind refused to supply a name. ‘You should go to sleep, too. You’ve been working hard.’

  ‘Please,’ Amy whispered.

  A hand brushed tears from Amy’s cheek. ‘All right, darling, you can have a bit more of a cuddle. Just for a minute, though.’ Amy lay back against the pillows with the baby on her chest and drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

  When she opened her eyes again she saw cracks of light through the drapes. This time she knew where she was and who she was with. Mrs Coulson was sitting in a chair beside the bed; she stood up and leaned over Amy as soon as she saw her eyes open.

  ‘Is the baby all right?’ Amy asked.

  ‘As pretty a baby as a mother could wish,’ Mrs Coulson told her. ‘But I’m afraid he won’t be called Ann.’

  Ann. A pang of loss went through Amy. ‘I got a bit muddled. I thought it was a girl.’

  Mrs Coulson bent over the cradle and lifted the baby boy from it. ‘Have another cuddle, now you’re properly awake.’

  Amy opened her arms to hold the baby. ‘He is pretty, isn’t he? He looks just like… just like a little girl.’

  ‘So he does, my dear,’ Mrs Coulson agreed. ‘It doesn’t really make any difference till they’re old enough to wear trousers.’

  ‘I wanted another boy, really I did. A boy to help Charlie.’

  ‘You’re a good girl. Don’t worry, you’ll have a little girl to name after your mother one day.’

  Amy shook her head. ‘No, I couldn’t do that. I… never mind. I only want boys.’

  ‘Just as you say, dear,’ Mrs Coulson said. Amy knew that the nurse was humouring her.

  The chloroform had left Amy with a feeling of nausea, and whenever she moved even slightly her body sent a painful complaint. She was still weak and drowsy when Charlie arrived later that morning.

  ‘You can come in for a minute, Mr Stewart, but only if you’re very quiet,’ she heard Mrs Coulson saying from the passage. ‘She’s very tired, and the little fellow’s asleep.’ The nurse led Charlie into the room and over to the cradle. Amy tried to manage a smile for him, but for the moment Charlie had eyes only for the baby. ‘There he is,’ Mrs Coulson said in a loud whisper. ‘Your new son. A fine little fellow, isn’t he? Not so little, either—nine pounds if he’s an ounce.’

  Charlie stood over the cradle and looked down at the sleeping baby. ‘He’s got black hair,’ he said in surprise.

  ‘Yes, Mr Stewart. So has your wife, you may have noticed.’

  ‘I thought he’d look like the boy,’ Charlie said.

  ‘He’ll look like your wife, which means he’ll be a lovely child. He’ll have your height, though—he’s quite a lanky chap. I’d show you those long legs of his, except I don’t want to disturb him.’

  The nurse sat on the bed beside Amy and stroked her hair. ‘Are you all right, dear? Having trouble keeping you
r eyes open, aren’t you, darling?’

  ‘A bit,’ Amy admitted. ‘It’s another boy, Charlie,’ she said, hoping for some sign of approval.

  ‘Aye,’ Charlie said, as if the thought that the baby might not be a boy had never entered his head. He took a proper look at Amy for the first time ‘What’s wrong with her?’ he asked the nurse.

  ‘She’s just had a baby, Mr Stewart,’ Mrs Coulson said sharply. ‘That takes a bit more energy than making your breakfast. The poor girl’s worn out.’

  ‘Oh.’ Charlie looked surprised at this idea. ‘She’ll get over it, won’t she?’

  ‘Yes, she will,’ the nurse said. ‘Women have to get over it. And she’s young and strong. You can go now, I want her to get some rest.’

  She came back muttering to herself when she had closed her front door on Charlie. ‘Men have no idea,’ Amy heard her say. ‘No idea at all.’ She popped her head round the bedroom door. ‘Go to sleep, sweetheart. I’ll come back and give you a bit more of a tidy-up later.’

  Amy spent the next few hours in a half-doze, but was glad of the company when Mrs Coulson came back to her around midday. ‘Don’t sit up,’ the nurse told her. ‘I can do what’s needed with you flat on your back. I just need to clean up the fresh lot of blood that’s come since this morning.’

  Amy felt the nurse sponging her loins. She winced at the touch, gentle though it was. ‘Everything hurts so much,’ she said. ‘Oh, and I feel so awful. Why do I feel so sick? I’m worse than last time.’

  ‘You lost more blood this time, dear—and last time was bad enough for that. Nothing dangerous, but it’ll leave you feeling rather feeble for a while. It’s these big babies of yours, darling.’

  ‘I’m too small, aren’t I?’

  ‘Your husband’s too big, that’s another way of looking at it.’ The nurse pulled Amy’s nightdress back down over her thighs and sat on the chair by the bed. ‘Don’t worry, dear, you’ll feel stronger soon. I’ll look after you until you do.’

  ‘Thank you.’ Amy studied Mrs Coulson’s tender expression. The kindness, coupled with her weakness, made her feel safe. ‘Charlie’s pleased about the baby, don’t you think? He didn’t say much, but he looked a bit pleased.’