Sentence of Marriage

by Shayne Parkinson

  ‘I won’t bother. She bought herself plenty of things when she came up.’

  ‘She might be hurt, Pa. Especially when she sees my lovely hat.’

  ‘She won’t be hurt. She might be annoyed, but that’s just too bad.’ He pulled out his watch and glanced at it. ‘It’s after one o’clock! My stomach thinks my throat’s been cut. Tell you what, we’ll have a bite to eat in a tea room, then I’ll buy you a slap-up dinner before we sail. How does that sound?’

  ‘It’s probably a waste. I expect I’ll bring it all up again on the boat.’

  ‘Do you get seasick? I don’t, except when it’s really rough. Never mind, you’ll enjoy it while you eat it.’

  ‘But won’t it cost—’

  ‘Stop going on about money. I can give my daughter a treat, can’t I?’

  Amy put her arms around him and squeezed. ‘It’s enough of a treat that you came to fetch me.’

  They negotiated their way back across the busy road and upstairs into a small tea room, where they were soon drinking tea and munching through a pile of sandwiches, followed by little cakes.

  The tea room was almost empty, but two smartly-dressed women in their early forties came in and sat at the next table. The women talked animatedly, ignoring their tea for some time. Amy stared at them in mild interest, wondering if they would remember the tea before it had cooled completely.

  ‘A little girl!’ one of the women said. ‘You must be so excited, Helen.’

  The one called Helen nodded, setting her heavy pearl necklace bobbing. ‘After so long, we’d almost given up. At my age, I thought perhaps it was silly, perhaps I wouldn’t be strong enough to look after a baby, but I don’t regret it now. Although it hasn’t been easy for Fred to get used to a baby waking him up at all hours—nor for me!’ She laughed.

  ‘One does get out of the way of those sleepless nights,’ her companion agreed.

  ‘Yes, Maurice is nearly ten, it’s a long time since we had a baby around. Oh, I hate to leave her, even for a moment! This is almost the first time I’ve left the house since she arrived—the nurse we’ve engaged is excellent, but I still feel I should be there myself. I’m so looking forward to taking her out and about, but I can’t disturb her when she finally gets off to sleep. Nurse says the cow’s milk’s been disagreeing with her, and of course I haven’t any of my own this time. She’s just beginning to thrive, though, and I’ll soon be able to show her off properly. Won’t she look sweet in this?’

  A cold wave of shock went through Amy when the woman opened a paper parcel and pulled out the baby’s dress that had so entranced her in the store. That’s Ann’s dress! she wanted to cry out. You’re too old to have a baby—you can’t even feed a baby—but you’re allowed to keep yours. And you’ve bought Ann’s dress! For a moment Amy felt she hated the woman. But then she saw the look of love in her eyes as she gazed at the dress. You love your baby too, don’t you? I’m glad you can keep her, even if you are old.

  ‘Are you listening, girl?’ Jack’s voice broke into her thoughts.

  ‘What?’ Amy dragged her gaze from the women, glad that her father could not see them and had not been listening to their conversation. ‘I’m sorry, I was thinking about something else. What did you say?’

  ‘I was telling you about that teacher.’

  ‘Miss Evans? What about her?’

  ‘She’s left. She came to see you a couple of weeks ago, to say goodbye. She’d heard you were ill, everyone in Ruatane knew you were sick, but she thought maybe you were ready for visitors.’

  ‘Where’s she gone, Pa?’

  ‘Said she’s got a job near Hamilton, in a bigger school. She seemed pretty pleased about it, but she was sorry to have missed you. I told her you were in Auckland getting well.’ He talked so freely of Amy’s having been ill that she began to suspect he almost believed it.

  ‘Oh, I wish I’d seen her! You talked to her yourself?’

  ‘Yes, she came looking for me in the cow shed, she never even went to the house. Susannah was quite put out.’

  ‘Susannah was very rude to her once. I expect that’s why.’

  ‘I told her you’re getting married soon. I thought that would shut her up if she was going to go on about that teaching.’

  ‘What did she say?’

  ‘She seemed surprised. Old maids are always jealous when they hear about someone else getting a husband. It’s a good thing you didn’t see her, girl.’

  ‘Perhaps it is, Pa.’

  ‘Now,’ Jack said when they were on the footpath once more, ‘I’ll take you to the boat and you can put your stuff away, then we’ll have a look around the wharves until it’s dinner time. Do you feel strong enough to walk down to the bottom of Queen Street, or do you want to go in the tram? It’s a fair step.’

  ‘I’ll walk,’ Amy assured him, anxious to avoid making him spend any more money on her. Once or twice during the next few minutes she almost gave in and asked if they could, after all, take the tram, but she managed by leaning more heavily on her father’s arm. She was panting by the time they reached the wharves; she did her best to hide it.

  Jack saw Amy’s case safely stowed on the Wellington, though she refused to part with her hat. He looked at Amy’s heaving chest.

  ‘You don’t really feel up to walking around the wharves, do you?’

  ‘Not really,’ Amy admitted.

  ‘Never mind, we’ll stay where we are till we get hungry. You can see plenty from here.’

  They sat on the deck and watched the activities around them. Carts came and went, loading and unloading crates and sacks. Horses stood and munched contentedly from nosebags while their owners watched cargo being stowed. Steamers and sailing craft shared the wharves, and the tall buildings of the city made a backdrop to the bustling scene.

  ‘That’s a load of kauri gum from Northland,’ Jack pointed out. ‘Those sacks look as though they’re full of wheat. Crates of butter over there, of course—that’s the other thing I meant to tell you, they’ve opened a cheese factory next to Forsters’ place. Good thing I didn’t hold my breath waiting for it, eh? They’re taking all the milk we can supply, though.’

  Amy sat in the warm sunlight, pressed against her father. The background noises seemed to fade, and his voice took on a droning quality that she found soothing. She closed her eyes to concentrate on the sound.

  She was surprised when she felt his hand shaking her shoulder gently. She opened her eyes and wondered how the sun had dropped towards the horizon so quickly.

  ‘Had a good sleep?’ Jack smiled at her. ‘You must have needed it. Time we went back on dry land for a bit and had something to eat.’ He stood and stretched. ‘My arm’s stiff from keeping it still that long! I didn’t want to move and wake you up, you looked so peaceful.’

  Amy stood up and waited for her head to clear. ‘I had a lovely sleep, Pa. It must be all that walking. It’s funny, I used to run all over the farm and not get tired, and now just walking down the street wears me out.’

  ‘That’s because you’ve been ill. Are you going to wear your new hat to dinner?’

  ‘Do you want me to?’ Jack nodded.

  She went into the ladies’ cabin, undid the parcel and put on the hat in front of a small mirror, trying not to notice how odd it looked with her dress. When she came back, Jack gave her a smile that had more than a hint of sadness in it. ‘That’s nice,’ he said. ‘You look more like her than ever now.’

  ‘You mean Mama?’

  ‘Mmm.’ He fell silent.

  ‘You and Mama were happy, weren’t you?’ Amy probed. Ever since Susannah’s arrival, it had become rare for him to speak of her mother.

  ‘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.

  34

  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 stoppe
d 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.