Mud and Gold

by Shayne Parkinson

  ‘Stinks in here,’ he said, sniffing the air with a look of distaste.

  ‘It’s my scent,’ Amy explained airily, pouring his tea.

  Charlie screwed up his face. ‘You’ve no need to choke everyone else with that crap.’ He sniffed again. ‘Come here, boy,’ he said, taking hold of Malcolm’s arm and pulling him closer. ‘You smell of it too!’

  ‘That’s my fault,’ Amy said. ‘I was giving Mal a cuddle before—I know I’m not really meant to cuddle him, but it was only a little one—and I got my scent all over him. It’s a bit strong, isn’t it?’

  ‘You’ve no call to go making a fool of the boy like that,’ Charlie grumbled. ‘He’ll likely be frightening the cows away with that stink.’

  ‘I hope not,’ Amy said, trying to sound properly concerned. ‘Never mind, it’ll wear off.’

  She stood on the back doorstep and waved them off, relieved that Malcolm had the sense to be walking on the far side of David from his father. It was worth using half her bottle of perfume if it could protect Malcolm from his father’s wrath, but she wished he would not keep straining her inventiveness. The thought of Malcolm’s sampling beer at his age left her feeling nauseated; how many of his father’s other habits was he going to inherit?

  Maybe Mal will grow out of all this silliness, she tried to convince herself. But Amy had no skill at lying, least of all to herself.

  *

  Jack Leith’s sixtieth birthday provided an excuse for the entire Leith family to gather together that December, for the first time since Bill and Lily’s wedding three years before. The clan had expanded substantially in those three years. Arthur’s namesake grandson was now two years old, just a few months younger than Harry and Jane’s Robert and Frank and Lizzie’s Mickey, and four weeks the junior of John and Sophie’s Andrew. Robbie had a little brother now, though it would be some time before eight-month-old Donald was much of a playmate for him.

  The prestige that went with having the newest baby of all belonged to Lizzie, with little Daniel barely six months old. The baby gurgled cheerfully as he was passed around the verandah from lap to lap, showing the placid temperament all Lizzie’s children seemed to be blessed with, at least during babyhood.

  Amy felt herself the odd one out as she watched the other women with their babies. She was the youngest of them all, but David was over seven years old and had long ago left babyhood behind. He doesn’t even call me Mama any more, she thought wistfully.

  Her thoughts were shaken out of their fruitless course when Lizzie plumped Danny onto her lap. Amy took full advantage of the opportunity to feel a warm, plump little body pressed against hers, and to smell the sweet, milky odour of the baby as she kissed him and stroked his hair.

  When they had all talked long enough to catch up on any newsworthy events that had happened in the few days since most of them had last seen one another, Amy helped Susannah and the other women carry dish after dish of food outside. The men spread rugs under a small group of trees near the house, while the children raced about excitedly at the sight of their delayed lunch.

  A picnic lunch was the most sensible way to cope with a family group that numbered sixteen adults plus their assorted children, but the informality of the occasion seemed to be troubling Susannah. Something was annoying her, anyway, Amy could see. Susannah’s lips were pressed together in an even thinner line than their usual one, and she glared at anyone who spoke to her. Even the normally imperturbable Sophie looked somewhat cowed, as though she had received a tongue lashing from Susannah that morning.

  ‘My goodness, you look down in the mouth today, Susannah,’ Edie remarked. Amy tried to make herself inconspicuous as she squeezed past her aunt, who was taking up a good deal of the free space in the passage. ‘Whatever’s wrong with you? And on a happy day like this, too,’ Edie chided mildly.

  ‘Happy, is it?’ Susannah said, a wounded note in her voice. Amy decided to lurk in the safety of the kitchen, where she could peek at the two women through the door jamb, until Susannah finished talking to Edie. It was better to be accused of listening at keyholes than to give her stepmother a fresh target for her complaints. ‘Perhaps you wouldn’t think it was quite so wonderful if you’d been up since daybreak making food for that horde out there. And after the night I’ve had. I hardly had a wink of sleep. Not that I expect anyone to be very concerned about me, of course. No one ever is.’

  Edie put the platter of meat she was carrying down onto a small table and slipped her arm through Susannah’s. ‘Now, we’ve all done our best to help you out today,’ she said, her kindly tone softening the rebuke. ‘We’ve all brought things, and quite right, too. There’s far too many of us for you to have to feed on your own. I can see you look worn out, though. So does Jack, come to that—I don’t suppose he had much sleep either if you had a bad night. Now what’s wrong, dear? You mustn’t say no one takes any interest in whether you’re upset. I’m asking you now, aren’t I?’

  ‘You wouldn’t understand,’ Susannah said distantly.

  ‘Try me.’

  ‘It would be a waste of time. You’d say I’m being stupid, just like Jack did. None of you care what I want.’ She sounded close to tears, but it was difficult for Amy to judge how genuine her distress was.

  ‘Are we really all so horrible to you, Susannah?’ Edie asked gently.

  ‘Yes,’ Susannah snapped, followed almost immediately by a reluctant, ‘No.’ She sighed. ‘You’ve always been kind to me, Edie. You’re the only one who has.’

  ‘Don’t talk like that. You couldn’t ask for a kinder husband than Jack, could you? Now, don’t pull such faces, my girl. Tell me what the trouble is. Are you feeling a bit left out?’ Edie probed. ‘All these babies around and you with only those big boys of yours? But Jack thinks he’s past putting up with babies, is that it? Are you thinking you’d like another little one?’

  ‘Certainly not! Edie, you helped me through that frightful business of having the children, you know what a dreadful time I had of it. I don’t think it’s anything to laugh about,’ she said haughtily.

  ‘You’re a funny girl,’ Edie said through a chuckle. ‘I’ve never known a woman have an easier time of it than you, and you go on as if—now, don’t get so huffy, dear, I didn’t mean to offend you. You know, it’d take your mind off things if you did have another baby, and you’re young enough. You could talk Jack round if you put your mind to it.’

  ‘I do not want another child! I’ve quite enough to worry about as it is, trying to bring up the two I have properly so that they won’t turn out to be brutes like—’ Susannah broke off, biting back the words that would have given even the easy-going Edie offence. ‘Like they will if I’m not careful. Jack certainly doesn’t seem to care what becomes of them. Leave me alone, please, Edie. You wouldn’t understand. None of you would.’ She pushed past Edie with her head held high. Amy slipped out the back door to take the long way around the house rather than face Susannah in her role of tragedy queen.

  *

  ‘I’m afraid it’s all very informal,’ Susannah said when she brought the last platter out from the house. ‘You can all sit wherever you want. I do hope there’s enough for everyone—children are inclined to help themselves to the best bits.’

  She cast a disapproving look at Lizzie, who was herding her family towards the picnic area. ‘You do seem to have a lot of children, Lizzie.’

  Frank half expected Lizzie to snap at Susannah, but she said, ‘Only five,’ calmly enough, apparently more inclined to take the remark as a compliment than otherwise.

  ‘Really? It seems like more when they run about all the time. It must be difficult to teach them proper table manners when there’re so many of them.’

  ‘Not difficult at all,’ Lizzie said, bridling.

  ‘Oh? You do surprise me.’ Susannah glided off to take her own place at what would have been the foot of the table, had there been a table, ignoring the glare Lizzie sent after her.

  ‘Now listen, you lot
,’ Lizzie told the four children old enough to take any notice when she had sat them down. ‘You’re to behave yourselves, right? If I see any of you taking something then putting it back, or any of those things you’re not allowed to do at home, there’ll be trouble. She turned to Frank. ‘Isn’t that right, Papa?’

  ‘Yes, bad trouble,’ Frank said, trying to look solemn. ‘Mama will leave you here with Aunt Susannah, and she’ll—’ At the sight of Beth, who was more sensitive than her siblings, and Mickey, who was too young to know any better, both looking dangerously close to howling, he broke off. ‘No, Mama won’t do that—she’ll only give you a hiding. I wouldn’t look as pleased as all that about it, though, Mama can be pretty bad when she gets wild.’

  ‘And if you’re very naughty, Papa might get angry with you,’ Lizzie said, bringing out her ultimate threat. As an angry Papa was something none of the children had ever seen, the notion held all the menace of the unknown, while a Mama bent on justice was only too familiar. ‘So just watch yourselves.’

  *

  Jack said at the opposite end of the rugs from Susannah. ‘Come and sit beside me,’ he invited Amy. She took a place at his side, but made no attempt to beckon Charlie over from the solitary spot he had found for himself under a tree a short distance from everyone else; he would happier by himself, and more easily ignored by her family. It would be no use trying to persuade Malcolm to sit with her, not when there were older boys for him to hover around, but David sat beside her and looked longingly at the food spread out before him.

  ‘And I’ll have the little fellows over here,’ Jack added, patting the ground at his left hand and beckoning Thomas and George.

  ‘No, they can sit down here with me,’ Susannah said. ‘Come along, boys.’

  ‘But Pa said—’ George began to argue.

  ‘Your father has forgotten what a trial you two have been to me lately,’ Susannah interrupted. ‘I want you here where I can keep an eye on you and see that you behave decently.’ Her voice sounded cool and composed, but her eyes glittered warningly.

  ‘Let them sit where they want, Susannah,’ said Jack.

  ‘Oh, yes, and watch them disgrace me in front of everyone.’ Susannah’s voice rose in pitch as she spoke. ‘Is it asking too much to be allowed to bring my own sons up to have proper manners?’

  ‘Stop making a fuss over nothing,’ Jack said, clearly only too aware of his large and interested audience.

  ‘Of course, I know you don’t think that sort of thing matters. That’s why you won’t let me see that they grow up like young gentlemen.’ Susannah had abandoned her attempt to sound coolly aloof, and her voice was growing dangerously close to a wail. ‘You think it’s a waste of time, I know. It doesn’t seem to matter what I think. You begrudge them the chance—’

  ‘For God’s sake, Susannah, don’t bring all that up again,’ Jack said wearily. ‘All right, they can sit by you if it means that much to you. Just let me have my lunch in peace, will you?’

  The two boys sat down on either side of their mother, George looking as though he would like to be rebellious while Thomas had an expression of stoical misery. There was an awkward silence for a few moments, then Jack said with forced heartiness, ‘Right, I’ll say grace before the flies carry the whole pile off. Then you can all get stuck in to this lot or we’ll be eating leftovers for a month. Cheer up, you fellows, this is a birthday, not a funeral.’

  When he had intoned a short prayer, Amy squeezed his hand in silent support. Jack smiled and drew her close in the circle of his arm, forgetting for the moment his own injunction to start eating. He glanced down to where Susannah was lecturing the two boys, though inaudibly from this distance, and his smile faded.

  ‘I didn’t think she’d perform today,’ he said. ‘She hasn’t been so bad lately, I thought she’d got over all that nonsense she used to go on with. Now she’s got this new idea in her head. She doesn’t mind making me look a fool.’

  Careful not to make her father dwell on an unpleasant subject, Amy refrained from asking what Susannah’s new idea might be. ‘Don’t worry, Pa, no one takes much notice of Susannah. Even Tom doesn’t get as upset as he used to.’ She followed her father’s gaze. ‘At least she doesn’t dress the boys like little dolls any more.’

  ‘No, I put my foot down about that. No need for her to make fools of the little fellows too.’

  ‘Shh, Pa, no one thinks you’re a fool. You mustn’t say such things. Now, how about you start eating some of your birthday lunch?’ She slid out of his grasp and began picking out the choicest bits from the platters within reach to load onto her father’s plate. ‘I brought over some of my ham—you know, cured that special way with honey the way you always liked it. Do you want some?’

  ‘As much as I can get,’ Jack told her with a smile. ‘No one else does ham like yours.’

  *

  Demolishing the generous lunch took everyone’s attention for most of the next hour, though there was enough left over to guarantee that Jack’s family would indeed be eating the remains for several days. The trees provided shelter from the worst of the heat, but the warmth of the day relaxed those who were capable of it, and the company, congenial for the most part, made for amicable conversation.

  ‘Hey, Frank,’ Harry called across the rug, ‘I hear you’re getting rid of all your fancy cows.’

  ‘Not flaming likely!’ Frank protested with a laugh, sure he was being teased. ‘Someone’s been having you on, Harry. You shouldn’t believe everything you hear, you know.’

  ‘No? I heard you’d been selling Jersey cows in calf.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Frank smiled at the chance to share his latest success without being accused of boasting. ‘Just the one, mind you. I sold a one-year-old in calf, sent her up to the Waikato.’

  ‘I thought you’d be dead keen on building up your breeders, Frank,’ John remarked. ‘What are you up to, selling them?’

  ‘Just one,’ Frank reminded them. ‘It was because I went up to that show in Auckland. Lots of people got to see my cows, and they thought they weren’t too bad. Well, come spring I had a few men asking if I had any for sale.’

  ‘A few?’ Lizzie said. ‘Frank had dozens of people asking! No wonder, too, with all the ribbons and things he won in Auckland. I’ve never heard of anyone getting as many letters as Frank’s had this year.’

  ‘Well, there were quite a few, all right,’ Frank said. ‘Anyway, I was a bit troubled about that. I mean, if I’d sold cows to everyone who wanted to buy them, I’d have had no Jerseys left. But if I just told them I didn’t want to sell any heifers, they’d all decide I was a dead loss as a breeder—and in a few years when I’ve got the herd better set up I want to be able to sell the extras, eh?’

  His smile grew broader. ‘Then I got this idea. I wrote back to the ones who sounded keenest, and I sort of hummed and ha’d about whether I’d have enough cows to sell, and I got them to say what price they’d go up to. Then I sold a heifer to the one who offered the most money, and I wrote to all the others to say sorry, I’d sold all the heifers I could spare this season, and maybe I’d be able to supply them next year or the year after. I’ve already had a few wanting to put their names down for next season,’ he added, trying not to sound too smug.

  ‘That was pretty cunning,’ Harry said.

  ‘Thanks,’ said Frank. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Arthur looking uncertain whether to boast about Frank’s success or scoff at it, and Frank decided to tip the balance. ‘Of course Pa helped me think of it. I talked it all over with him and he helped me decide what to do.’

  That was stretching the truth to the limit; after carefully deliberating, Frank had told Arthur what he intended to do, and Arthur had not actually said it was a stupid idea. But his remark had the desired effect: Arthur glowed with pride and said, ‘Frank’s got the sense to take good advice, I’ve always said that. Even if he did go off half-cocked over buying those cows,’ he added, careful not to encourage a swollen he
ad in his son-in-law.

  Frank sprawled on the grass with his plate balanced on the uneven ground. Lizzie sat beside him with Danny on her lap, the plump baby crushing the taffeta of her blue dress paid for with a little of the money from Frank’s bull, while the other four children clustered around giving full attention to their pudding. A family for a man to be proud of, and proud he was. Five healthy children, and a wife like Lizzie. As if that wasn’t enough to be thankful for, the farm was doing better than ever and the Jerseys were thriving. He knew the heifer he had sold would be the first of many. Lizzie was never going to wear patched petticoats again.

  *

  Mr Hatfield, the watchmaker-cum-photographer, arrived as most of the family were polishing off their second helpings of dessert. He looked mildly bewildered as he found himself being sat down on a cushion and plied with cakes and puddings, despite his protestations that he had already eaten. He had politely refused to intrude upon the family occasion when Jack had told him to come out in time for the meal, but he was no match for a group of women all firmly convinced this must be the first decent food the elderly Englishman had had in years.

  He was not allowed to set up his camera on its stand until he had eaten three plates of pudding and downed two glasses of beer, after which he disappeared behind his camera with the expression of a man seeking safe harbour. There ensued an orgy of photograph taking, Mr Hatfield standing as aloof as possible from the complex operation of deciding who was to stand where for each photograph, and where any missing children could possibly have got to in the few seconds since their mothers had last seen them.

  Fitting the entire gathering into one frame was a challenge only accomplished after a great deal of muttering and lip-chewing on Mr Hatfield’s part, and he relaxed visibly when Arthur’s branch of the clan moved aside. Having stared grimly at the camera for the group photograph, Charlie took up his station by the beer barrel and ignored all the activity around him.