Sentence of Marriage

by Shayne Parkinson

  ‘She’s in the bedroom, getting the little ones dressed.’

  Jack stomped out of the room and up the passage, and Amy carried her bucket of dirty water outside to empty it. She looked anxiously at the half-washed floor when she brought the bucket back in, but she could not disobey her father.

  An indignant Susannah came into the kitchen a few minutes later at Jack’s side.

  ‘I don’t see that it’ll do her any harm,’ she said. ‘Just a bit of scrubbing.’

  ‘I didn’t notice you doing it when you were with child.’

  ‘That’s different. I was so ill most of the time. Amy’s in perfect health—a bit of exercise is good for women in that state if they’re well enough.’

  ‘She can go for a walk if she needs exercise. I told you to look after her, and I don’t want her doing that heavy work. Understand?’

  ‘Yes,’ Susannah muttered. But she made no move to finish the scrubbing when Jack had left the house.

  That evening’s meal was even more awkward than the previous one. Harry glared across the table at Susannah.

  Susannah glared back. ‘What’s wrong with you?’ Harry lowered his brows even further, but said nothing. ‘Jack, he’s not answering me when I speak to him,’ Susannah complained.

  ‘I can’t make him talk to you,’ said Jack. ‘You’re better off if he doesn’t, anyway. I don’t think you’d like to hear what he’d have to say.’ Susannah looked affronted, but Amy noticed she avoided meeting Harry’s eyes after that.

  *

  Now that she was no longer allowed to do the heavy work, Amy found herself with an unwelcome amount of time on her hands. Free time meant time to think.

  Amy missed Lizzie badly. She pined for her cousin’s ready sympathy now that she had no kind words or soft looks from anyone else. When the rest of the family returned from church the first Sunday after the revelation, an awkward-looking John spoke quietly to Amy as she stood at the bench serving up lunch.

  ‘Lizzie asked me to say sorry she hasn’t come to see you,’ he said. Amy’s head swung to him in surprise at even being spoken to by her brother. He avoided her eyes. ‘She said she wanted to, but her pa won’t let her.’

  ‘Oh. Thank you, John.’ Tears pricked at her eyes. Uncle Arthur thinks I’m too bad for Lizzie to be allowed to talk to. She felt lonelier than ever.

  Amy adjusted her days to avoid seeing the others any more than she had to. Her father and brothers hardly spoke to her; when they did she could see that she embarrassed them. Susannah’s company gave no pleasure to either of them.

  So Amy rose early to prepare breakfast, and ate her own before the men got up. When she had served their food she carried Susannah’s cup of tea in to her and took the little boys off to play in the parlour while Susannah finished waking up, drank her tea and dressed.

  After she heard the men go out, Amy did the dishes and whatever work was light enough for her to manage. She did all of the cooking now, while a grumbling Susannah did the heavy cleaning; or at least the portion of the cleaning that could not be ignored.

  Amy could not avoid eating lunch and dinner with the family, but as soon as she finished her evening meal she took herself off into her bedroom and worked at her sewing until she heard the family go into the parlour. With the kitchen to herself she washed the dishes, prepared the bread dough for the next morning, then went early to bed to toss and turn the night away.

  That still left much of the day to be filled, and Amy took to wandering about on the farm. When she came back from the first of these long walks, Susannah accosted her. ‘Don’t you go near the road,’ she admonished. ‘Someone might see you. You don’t want the whole town talking about us, do you?’

  Amy did not want that, so she kept well away from the road. She also avoided the places where she and Jimmy had walked arm in arm, and most of all those where they had lain together. That left many parts of the farm where she could trudge across the paddocks or, even better, slip into the peace and loneliness of the bush. Walking up the steep hills got more difficult every day as her bulk increased, but she welcomed the weariness it brought. It meant she could sleep at night.

  *

  Jack lay in bed looking at his wife’s back as she undressed and put on her nightdress. He had found her attractive once. Damn it, he still did. But there was a limit to how much humiliation a man could take. The sheet was twisted uncomfortably under him. He wished Susannah would make the bed more often than once a week, when she changed the sheets. It didn’t seem worth arguing about, though. There had been more than enough arguing lately.

  The sight of Susannah gave him no pleasure, only irritation. He turned instead to look at his two small sons, cherub-like in sleep. It was good to have little ones around again. Especially now they both slept through the night. Susannah had given him the young fellows, anyway, albeit grudgingly.

  Susannah turned off the lamp and climbed into bed beside him, though each of them now slept on the extreme edges of the bed to avoid touching one another.

  ‘Jack,’ she said quietly a few minutes later. ‘Are you awake? We need to talk about Amy.’

  That jolted him into alertness. ‘What’s wrong with her? Is she ill?’

  ‘No, no, I’ve been taking care of her, she’s quite well. In her body, that is.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  Susannah gave a deep sigh. ‘She’s very miserable.’

  ‘She hasn’t got much to be cheerful about, has she?’

  ‘No, poor girl. What are we going to do about her?’

  Jack grunted. ‘Nothing much we can do. The time for doing things was months ago. That’s when you should have been taking care of her.’

  ‘You’re never going to forgive me for that, are you?’ Susannah said, a catch in her voice. ‘I did my best, really I did. I don’t know anything about looking after girls of her age, and girls in the country grow up so much faster. I never meant this to happen.’

  She was obviously near tears. ‘Don’t go on about it,’ Jack said. ‘There’s no use talking about whose fault it all was. It’s done now, we’ve got to make the best of it.’

  ‘That’s what I want,’ Susannah snatched at his words. ‘I want the best for Amy. I don’t think we should give the baby to anyone in Ruatane, I think it should go further away. Auckland might be best. We should start arranging it soon, we’ve only got a few months now.’

  Jack let her run on while he tried to absorb her meaning. ‘What are you talking about?’ he asked finally. ‘Who said we were going to give it away?’

  He heard Susannah catch her breath. ‘You don’t mean we should keep it here?’

  ‘Of course we’re going to keep it. That’s my grandchild you’re talking about. Not to mention your niece or nephew,’ he added bitterly.

  ‘Haven’t I got enough to cope with, looking after two babies under two years old? However would I manage another one?’

  ‘How would you manage three children? The same way thousands of women do. Amy’d look after her own baby, anyway.’

  ‘But Jack, think of Amy. Now she’s soiled it’s doubtful any man will ever want her, so she’s not going to have much of a life, is she?’ She went on, not giving Jack time to answer. ‘It just seems too much for her to have the child of her shame before her eyes all the time. The poor girl, she’ll never cope with it.’

  ‘She’ll cope. She’ll have to.’

  ‘Think of her life, Jack! Never to have a home of her own, and to have to bring up a child alone.’

  ‘She’s got a home. You’re probably right, she won’t find a husband now, but her home’s here. If she never gets another one, well, I can’t do anything about that. And you’ll help her bring up the child.’

  ‘But Jack—’

  ‘That’s enough.’ He rolled noisily onto his side, feeling the crumpled sheet ruck up under him as he did, to let her know the conversation was over. To his surprised relief, Susannah lapsed into silence.

  *

>   Amy put a blanket over the bread dough and rose awkwardly to turn out the lamp. She jumped when the door opened from the passage and her father came in, carrying his account book as well as pen and ink.

  ‘I was just going to bed, Pa. I’ll be out of your way in a minute.’

  ‘Amy,’ Jack said, reaching out an arm to stop her, then letting it drop without actually touching her, ‘I… I wondered if you could give me a hand with this. You’re better with numbers than I am.’

  Amy felt a small surge of pleasure at being asked. ‘I’d like to do that, Pa.’ In the past she had often helped her father with his accounts, which without her assistance involved many crossings-out and ink-blots, and a quantity of bad language.

  Jack pulled out a chair for her and they sat side by side at the table. Amy wrote down amounts as he called them out, and they talked in low voices.

  ‘What a lot of butter I made over the summer,’ Amy said. ‘The cows were producing well.’

  ‘It’s high time they started that cheese factory they’ve been on about for years.’

  ‘We had a good crop of potatoes, didn’t we?’

  ‘Mmm. Not a bad price, either. I might put another paddock into spuds next year.’

  Amy could tell that her father had put her state out of his mind for the moment. She deliberately lingered over the accounts, taking longer than necessary over writing down each figure and working out the totals. She knew it could not be for very long, but while it lasted she basked in the warmth of their companionship.

  It lasted a shorter time than she had expected. Amy was adding up one of the columns of figures when the passage door opened. They both looked up to see Susannah in her dressing-gown, holding a candlestick.

  ‘What are you doing out here at this time of night?’ Susannah asked.

  ‘Just doing the accounts,’ Jack said. ‘I thought you’d gone to bed.’

  ‘I’ve been writing a letter to Constance. I never seem to get any time during the day. Amy, you should be in bed.’

  ‘She’s helping me. Amy’s good with numbers, and I always seem to get in a muddle if I do them by myself.’

  ‘Oh yes, she’s very clever,’ Susannah said. ‘But you shouldn’t keep her up so late, Jack. She’s only fifteen, you know, and she needs her sleep. Especially at the moment. Come along, Amy,’ she said, holding the door open.

  ‘I’m all right, I’m not very tired tonight. Can’t I stay up a bit longer and help you, Pa?’ Amy pleaded.

  ‘No, you do as your ma says, she knows best about these things. She’s right, I shouldn’t be keeping you from your bed. You’re not quite over that cough yet, either. Off you go, I’ll manage without you.’

  Susannah stood in the doorway and watched as Amy went meekly off to bed. Amy wondered briefly why Susannah bothered writing to her sister when she knew they didn’t get on; in fact she could never remember Susannah’s having written to her before. But her mind was too full of yet another disappointment to spare much interest for whatever Susannah might be up to. She managed to get the bedroom door safely closed behind her before the tears came.

  *

  Frank watched Lizzie carry the dirty dishes to the bench. He caught her eye across the table when she turned back towards him. She gave a small nod, Frank rose to join her, and they started towards the door. Frank had his hand on the door knob when Arthur spoke, making him jump.

  ‘Where do you think you’re going?’

  Lizzie answered while Frank was still recovering from the rush of guilt that had assailed him. ‘We’re just going for a little walk across the paddocks. Maybe down to the creek, no further. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’

  Arthur looked at them suspiciously. ‘You keep out of the bush. I don’t want you going out of sight of the house. Understand?’

  ‘Yes, Pa,’ Lizzie said.

  ‘I’ll be keeping an eye on you. If I look out of this house and I can’t see you…’ Arthur let the threat remain implicit. ‘You hear me, Frank?’

  ‘Y-yes, I do,’ Frank assured him. ‘We won’t go far.’

  ‘You’d better not.’

  Frank glanced over his shoulder when they were a short distance from the house; sure enough, Arthur was standing on the verandah watching them. Frank felt too shy to take Lizzie’s hand with such a disapproving audience.

  ‘What’s up with your pa?’ he asked. ‘He’s been really funny lately.’

  ‘Oh, Pa’s got a lot on his mind.’

  ‘He hasn’t sort of… well, changed his mind, has he? About us, I mean.’

  ‘Of course he hasn’t. Don’t talk rubbish.’

  ‘Well, he doesn’t seem as though he likes me very much any more. He was really friendly for a while, after he said I could have you. Now he looks like he wants to hit me or something.’

  ‘He won’t hit you. It’s nothing you’ve done.’ Lizzie looked thoughtful. ‘Actually, I think he’d almost like us to get married sooner than next April, but he’s said we’re to wait and he won’t back down on that.’

  They walked for a few minutes, and Frank looked up at the house again. It was still in sight, but too far away for anyone watching to see how close he and Lizzie were. He reached out and took her hand. ‘I wish we didn’t have to wait till then.’

  ‘So do I. Pa’s been so bossy lately, I’m fed up with him.’

  Frank snaked his arm around her waist and squeezed. It gave him less satisfaction than he had hoped; Lizzie had gone into adult clothes since her engagement, and she felt stiff to his touch. He missed the sight of her ankles and calves, too, now that she wore long dresses. For a moment he allowed his imagination to wander up from those calves and into the forbidden realms above her knees, but that gave him an uncomfortably tight feeling in his trousers. It also made him see Arthur’s face in his mind instead of Lizzie’s. He let his arm drop to his side.

  ‘You’ve been sort of quiet lately,’ Frank said, thinking how uncharacteristic this was.

  ‘Have I? That’s because Pa’s so grumpy. I miss Amy, too.’

  ‘She’s been crook for ages now. Lizzie,’ he said awkwardly, ‘she is… Amy is going to get better, isn’t she?’

  ‘I hope so. Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,’ Lizzie said, seeing Frank’s expression. ‘She’s going to get better. It’s just going to take a long time.’

  Frank sensed that Amy’s illness was not something to be spoken of freely, at least in front of men. ‘Is it anything catching?’ he asked, hoping he wasn’t prying too rudely.

  ‘Pa thinks it is. That’s why he won’t let me see her any more.’

  She looked sad, and Frank reached for her hand again. He was rewarded with a smile.

  ‘I suppose sitting down right beside the creek counts as out of sight from the house?’ Frank asked when they had reached the bank of the Waituhi.

  Lizzie glanced back in the direction they had come. ‘I think it does. We could sit here on the bank, though. We’ll just look like two dots from up there.’

  ‘Let’s cross over first and sit on the other bank,’ Frank said. If a vengeful Arthur was going to bear down on him from the house, Frank wanted a chance of seeing him first. He helped Lizzie across the stepping stones and they sat very close together on the far bank, with their arms around each other’s waists.

  ‘Have you told Ben about us yet?’ Lizzie asked, bringing Frank back down to earth with a jolt.

  ‘No, I haven’t quite got around to it.’ He waited for Lizzie to scold him, but she looked unconcerned.

  ‘Oh, well, you’ll have to sooner or later.’

  ‘I know.’ He studied her carefully. ‘I thought you’d go crook at me because I haven’t told him,’ he admitted.

  ‘Why should I? It’s not my problem. You don’t have to get your brother’s permission to get married, and you’ve already got Pa’s for me.’

  ‘Ben’s not going to like it, Lizzie.’

  Lizzie shrugged. ‘He’ll get used to it. He’ll have to, once I move in. He m
ight even find he likes having a woman around the house.’ Frank was sure it would not be that simple, but he said nothing. ‘He won’t have to eat out of a saucepan because you’ve got no clean dishes left once I’m there,’ Lizzie said.

  ‘I would have tidied up that day if I’d known you were coming,’ Frank protested. ‘It doesn’t always look that bad, you know.’

  ‘Doesn’t it?’ She grinned at him. ‘Those dishes looked as though they were growing things.’

  ‘They did not! We do them once a week at least, when we boil up the water for washing the clothes.’

  ‘Or when you run out?’ Lizzie teased mercilessly. To silence her he kissed her soundly.

  They had got better at kissing; there were no more nose collisions now. Frank could concentrate on enjoying himself. He put both arms around Lizzie’s waist and held her close, trying to ignore the unpleasant feel of whalebone. He wondered how high the stays came up her body. One hand wandered up from Lizzie’s waist until he found the top edge of her corset. A few inches higher and he had a handful of something deliciously soft. He pressed his mouth harder on hers as a thrill of excitement rushed through him, but a moment later he felt Lizzie’s hand tugging at his wrist and she twisted her face away from his.

  ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded, her face flushed with anger. Frank had always thought Lizzie looked like her mother; right now she could have been a female version of her father at his most fierce.

  ‘What’s wrong? It’s all right, isn’t it? I mean, we’re engaged.’

  ‘Yes, that’s all we are,’ Lizzie flashed at him. ‘Engaged, that’s all. We’re not married yet.’

  ‘But… but I thought you’d let me touch you a little bit, Lizzie. That’s all I want to do, I won’t try anything else, honest I won’t.’

  ‘You won’t try that again either. You can do what you like once we’re married, but until then you can just control yourself.’ She glared at Frank.