‘Because I want to look after her. Because I think it would make her happy. You don’t grudge her that, do you?’
‘But…’ She saw David swallow with difficulty. ‘You mean take her up there for good?’ His voice was tight with emotion, and Sarah was struck by how young he suddenly looked. For a moment she feared he might cry.
‘No, no, of course not—you surely don’t think I’d be able to talk Amy into that, do you? No, I’m only trying to persuade her into staying a few months.’ No need to tell David just yet that she was thinking beyond a single visit to a time when Amy might divide her year between the two of them. And not necessarily on the basis of six months spent in each place; nine months in Auckland and three on the farm Sarah considered might be a reasonable balance. ‘I think Amy deserves a holiday. Don’t you?’
‘I don’t know,’ David said, clearly taken aback. ‘I suppose she does. She works hard, all right. Especially all that time she was trying to run the place on her own.’
‘So a trip to Auckland would be just the thing for her, wouldn’t it?’ Sarah went on briskly. ‘She wouldn’t have to lift a finger in my house. And I could take her out and about to all manner of interesting places. I’m sure she’d enjoy herself immensely.’
‘It sounds pretty good. I think Ma would like that.’
‘Yes. And I know she wants to come, she admitted as much. So what a pity it is that she won’t.’
‘Won’t she? Why not?’
‘Can’t you guess? Because of you, of course. Oh, don’t look so startled, you know Amy well enough. She won’t come because she thinks she has to stay here to look after you. That seems a little hard, doesn’t it?’
‘She hasn’t said anything.’
‘No, of course she hasn’t. She’d rather keep quiet and do without her holiday than risk upsetting you.’ She studied David, gauging his reaction. Mainly bewilderment, she decided.
‘But I wouldn’t mind her going,’ he said, shaking his head in confusion. ‘I wouldn’t make a fuss or anything. I’d like her to have a holiday.’
Sarah snatched hold of the advantage offered her. ‘Good. You can help me tell her she’s to come. She won’t try arguing against both of us if we band together. And you can tell me who should be roped in to look after you while Amy’s away.’
‘I suppose I could do for myself.’
‘Have a little sense!’ Sarah snapped. ‘We’re hardly going to persuade Amy that you’re fit to be left to your own devices if you talk such nonsense.’
She had the satisfaction of seeing David sit bolt upright, his eyes studying her nervously. Sarah let her face relax into a smile. ‘Goodness me, I almost thought you were going to hold your hand out for me to strap it. Now, come along, be sensible. Would I be wrong in assuming that making a cup of tea is about the limit of your culinary abilities?’
‘I can do a sandwich. I don’t suppose I’d be much use at getting dinner on, though,’ he admitted.
‘No, I’d guessed as much. So, what shall we tell Amy you’ll do about your meals?’
‘Well, next door’s closest,’ David said after a moment’s consideration. ‘I could go over to Uncle John’s or Uncle Harry’s, maybe. But Aunt Lizzie’s the best one for organising things. I mean, even if I was to say I’d go to Uncle John’s, she’d probably think of something else and tell me I was to do that instead.’
‘Just as I thought,’ said Sarah. ‘Perhaps I’d better pay your Aunt Lizzie a visit this afternoon. Then we’ll have it all settled.’
David went back to his work. Sarah rested on her elbows, enjoying the feel of the sun through her dress, and watched him finish off covering the potatoes. A movement caught her attention; she looked up towards the house, shading her eyes against the light.
Yes, that was Amy approaching, taking quick little steps across the paddock. As she grew nearer, Sarah could see her anxious expression.
‘Amy’s worried I’ve been upsetting you,’ she remarked. ‘Now, you’re not going to let me down, are you?’
David shook his head. Sarah stood up, and they walked over to Amy.
‘Don’t look so worried, darling,’ Sarah said, slipping her arm through Amy’s. ‘Dave and I have discussed the business of your holiday, and we’re in complete agreement. You’re to come to Auckland with me. Isn’t that right, Dave?’
‘Yes, I reckon it’s a good idea. A trip to Auckland would be just the thing for you.’
Sarah smiled at being quoted so carefully. ‘And we’ve thought out how to manage looking after Dave while you’re away. I’m going to talk to Mrs Kelly—perhaps this afternoon, there’s no point leaving things. Dave and I are quite sure she’ll take on the organising.’
Amy stared from each of them to the other, her face a picture of mingled delight and disbelief. ‘I… you don’t mind, Davie? You don’t mind if I go away for a while?’
‘I want you to go, Ma. You deserve a holiday.’
‘But—’
‘Oh, what excuse are you going to come up with now?’ Sarah raised her eyebrows in pretended exasperation.
‘Well, there’s one more thing,’ Amy said. ‘It’s the headstone—Charlie’s headstone. I can’t go away till it’s arrived, it wouldn’t seem right.’
Trust that man to make things awkward one last time, Sarah thought to herself. ‘When’s it to come?’
‘Another three weeks yet, I’m afraid. They said it’d be here around the end of the month.’
Sarah considered the matter. ‘I can’t stay here that long myself. It’ll mean you’ll have to travel up to Auckland alone. Do you think you could do that?’
‘Oh, yes, of course I could.’
‘Very well, then, you’re to come up as soon as it’s arrived. And I’ll be trusting you to see that she’s on that boat in three weeks’ time, David.’
‘I’ll have her on the boat all right,’ David said stoutly. He took Amy’s free arm and tucked it through his. ‘I’m starving, Ma. Is it morning tea yet?’
‘I was coming down to call you in for it.’ Amy caught Sarah’s amused expression, and gave a rueful smile. ‘Well, I suppose it was mainly an excuse to see if you two were getting on all right.’
‘Of course we are,’ said Sarah. ‘We’re the best of friends.’ She planted a kiss on Amy’s cheek. ‘Let’s go and check on these scones of yours. I want to see if they really are as big as I remembered.’
Amy walked between them, revelling in the closeness to both. Sarah and David were chatting easily, but Amy’s heart was too full for words as she looked up at first one animated face, then the other, while she tried to match their long strides.
‘Hey, I can smell those scones now,’ David said when they neared the house. ‘Hurry up, Ma, they smell good.’
‘I can’t keep up with you two. You go on ahead,’ Amy said, attempting to slip her arms out of theirs.
She saw Sarah catch David’s eye over the top of her head, a mischievous expression on her face. Sarah gripped her arm more tightly. ‘Let’s make her run.’
‘I can’t!’ Amy protested. She struggled to match their fresh pace, laughing helplessly. ‘I can’t,’ she panted out. ‘I’m too old to run.’
‘Then we’ll have to help you,’ Sarah said, her smile more mischievous than ever. ‘Ready, Dave?’
He nodded, and took a firmer hold on Amy’s arm.
‘One, two, three, up!’ Sarah cried.
They hoisted her aloft, the three of them giggling like children. Amy wanted to shout the news to the world, but she made do with a wordless cry of delight. It was decided; it was settled. She was going to Auckland.
2
There was one task Amy dissuaded Sarah from attempting.
‘I’ll ask Lizzie about looking after Dave,’ she said. ‘I’d rather do it myself. Not today, either, there’s no need to rush. And I’d like to… Sarah, would you mind if I told Lizzie about you? Who you really are, I mean. I won’t if you don’t want me to.’
‘Tell the world i
f you want,’ Sarah said easily. ‘I’m not ashamed of you, dearest.’
‘No, not the world. Only Lizzie, I think.’
‘You’re not going to tell Dave?’
‘I… I don’t think so,’ Amy said after a pause. ‘Not yet, anyway. I might one day. Do you think I should?’ she asked anxiously.
Sarah gave a small shrug. ‘It’s your decision, not mine. I’ll admit to a little idle curiosity as to how he might react. I’d be able to tell him it’s my right to order him about, since I’m his big sister.’
It was more than idle curiosity that Amy felt; it was something akin to fear. How would David take the knowledge that she had borne a child before her marriage? Could he ever think of her in the same way again? And the darkest question of all whispered from a deep recess of her mind: would he still love her? Why search for the answer when it was so easy to avoid the question?
*
Letting Sarah go was a wrench for Amy. But she had her trip to Auckland to look forward to, and before then she had a job to do. It was time to go and see Lizzie.
Few enough of Amy’s family had even known of the existence of her first child; of those few, Lizzie was the only one who had ever let her talk about the baby. The joy of her new knowledge bubbled inside Amy, making her step light as she walked along the track down the valley.
Frank and Lizzie were lingering over a morning cup of tea when Amy entered the warm kitchen. Frank had prevailed on Lizzie to let him hold Benjy; the baby waved his arms and chortled a greeting at Amy. Beth and Maisie hurried to fetch a cup of tea for her, and when she had fussed over Benjy and kissed Lizzie she took the seat Lizzie indicated.
‘Well, you look bright as a button,’ Lizzie remarked. ‘I thought you might be a bit down in the dumps, with your visitor going.’
‘It did seem a bit flat last night—I missed Sarah straight away. But do you know what’s happened?’ Amy put her hand on Lizzie’s arm, wanting to be sure she had her cousin’s full attention for her momentous announcement. ‘Sarah’s asked me to go and stay with her in Auckland.’
‘Oh, the silly girl. I hope she didn’t make a fuss when you said you wouldn’t.’
‘But I didn’t say that. I’ve said I’ll go.’
‘Don’t talk rot, Amy! Honestly, fancy that girl getting you to say such a thing. You couldn’t go all that way by yourself—and to Auckland, of all places. Frank says it’s an awful place, isn’t it, Frank?’
‘Well, it can be a bit wearying, with the size of it,’ Frank allowed. ‘It’s a bit of a beggar finding your way around, anyway.’
‘There you are, then,’ Lizzie said, as if her case had been proven beyond question. ‘You probably wouldn’t be able to find her house, even if you did go up there. You just write her a nice letter and say it was good of her to ask, but you don’t want to go after all. She won’t mind.’
‘I do want to go, though,’ Amy said quietly.
‘You don’t really. That Miss Millish has got you all excited, but once you’ve settled down and had a little think about it, you’ll see for yourself it’s a silly idea. Going all that way on your own, and you don’t even know her all that well. I know she’s sort of Lily’s cousin, but she’s not anything to you.’
‘She is, Lizzie. Sarah’s special. She’s as special as she could be. She…’ Amy glanced around the room, taking in their interested audience. ‘I need to talk to you. Please?’
She met Lizzie’s eyes, and was relieved to see her catch the message that this talk was not for all ears.
‘Come up to the bedroom for a minute,’ Lizzie said. ‘Frank, mind you don’t go spilling your tea on Benjy—sit him up properly.’
‘Yes, I’m not too good with babies yet,’ Frank said, trying to assume a suitably humble expression. ‘We’ve only had the eight of them, after all.’
‘I’m just telling you to be careful, there’s no need to talk silly. Mama won’t be long, sweetie,’ Lizzie cooed to the baby. ‘Let him suck on a biscuit, Frank, he might be a bit hungry.’
She ushered Amy ahead of her, up the passage and into the bedroom. As soon as she had closed the bedroom door behind them, she turned to Amy with a mixture of curiosity and concern in her face.
‘Now, what’s going on? Whatever’s got you so excited?’
Amy took hold of both Lizzie’s hands in hers. ‘It’s Sarah.’ She took a deep breath to calm herself as, for a moment, the wonder of it all threatened to overwhelm her. ‘Sarah’s my little girl. She’s Ann come back to me. She’s my daughter.’ She savoured the delicious feel of the words as her mouth formed them. ‘My daughter.’
Lizzie stood as if frozen and stared at her, not with the delight Amy had hoped to see, but with deep concern. ‘Oh, dear,’ she said faintly. ‘You poor love.’
She took hold of Amy’s hand and steered her over to the bed, waving aside Amy’s attempts to explain further. ‘You just sit down quietly. I’ll—now, don’t you worry, we’ll have a little talk and sort it all—I’ll just…’ She stared around the room with an air of desperation. ‘I’ll get Frank!’
Lizzie flung the bedroom door open and leaned out into the passage. ‘Frank!’ she called. ‘Come and help me!’
Frank appeared within seconds, Benjy tucked under one arm. The baby stared around with an air of mild surprise at having been so rapidly moved from one room to another, while Frank’s face was all concern. ‘What’s wrong? Are you all right, Lizzie?’
‘What do you think you’re doing, carrying Benjy like that!’ Lizzie said indignantly. ‘Give him here.’
She retrieved the baby and made soothing noises, rendered quite unnecessary by Benjy’s beaming smile at the sight of his mother. ‘It’s Amy, not me,’ Lizzie said when she managed to drag her attention away from Benjy. ‘She’s not well.’
‘Yes I am!’ Amy managed to make herself heard at last. ‘I don’t think I’ve been so well in ages!’
‘She looks all right to me,’ Frank said, taking in Amy’s radiant face.
‘Well, she’s not, the poor thing. It’s all got too much for you, hasn’t it, Amy?’ Lizzie hurried on, giving Amy no chance to reply. ‘Having to be brave all these years, with him being such a trial. And then the strain of him getting so sick. Now she’s finally able to take things a bit easier, and it’s got on top of her at last. Having that Miss Millish to stay, too, that’s been the last straw.’ She paused for breath, then announced solemnly, ‘Amy’s got a bit muddled in the head.’
‘I’m not muddled, I’m not!’ Amy protested. ‘It’s true!’
Lizzie nodded sagely, as if Amy’s insistence was further evidence. ‘You see what I mean? She thinks Miss Millish is the little girl they took off her.’
‘Oh, heck!’ Frank said, clearly sharing Lizzie’s alarm. ‘You’d better get her to lie down, take things quiet. Shall I get her some water? Or laudanum or something.’
Amy looked up at their worried faces, and it was only gratitude for their concern that stopped her from laughing aloud. ‘Does Frank know about Ann?’
‘Yes, he does,’ Lizzie admitted. ‘I had to tell him once—oh, years and years ago—when he’d gone upsetting you, mentioning seeing the other fellow in Auckland.’
‘I’ve wondered once or twice if you did know, Frank. I’m glad you do, it makes things simpler—’
‘Never mind talking about it now,’ Lizzie cut in. ‘You sit there quietly. Frank’s right, you ought to have a lie down. Yes, that’s a good idea, Frank, get some laudanum.’
‘No,’ Amy said, quietly but firmly. ‘I don’t want to lie down, and I don’t want any laudanum. No, stay here, Frank, I won’t take any medicine, so it’s no good you fetching it.’ She smiled at their anxious expressions. ‘And I haven’t gone funny in the head, either.’
‘Now, Amy, you should just—’
‘Lizzie,’ Amy interrupted. ‘I want to talk. Will you both be quiet and listen for a minute? Please?’
Lizzie’s worried expression did not ease. She sat down on the b
ed close to Amy, while Frank took the chair beside the bed.
‘It’s all right,’ Amy said. ‘I know it sounds like I’ve gone silly, but it’s all right. Really it is.’
She paused to gather her thoughts and arrange them in some sort of order, fit to be shared with others.
‘Sarah told me herself,’ she began. ‘Those people, the ones she calls Mother and Father, they weren’t really her parents at all. They adopted her when she was just a little baby. When I had to give her away.’
She had thought she could say it calmly, but the sudden rush of painful memories took her by surprise. She bit on her lip and stared unseeing at the bedroom window, and felt the warmth of Lizzie’s hand as it took hold of hers.
‘Lily mentioned once that Miss Millish wasn’t really her cousin,’ Lizzie said. ‘Her aunt couldn’t have any more babies, so they adopted a little girl for her. I didn’t think anything of it at the time.’
‘It doesn’t mean she…’ Frank lapsed into silence, but Amy could finish the sentence easily enough.
‘It doesn’t mean she’s my little girl. You’re right, Frank, it wouldn’t mean anything by itself. But there’s something else.’ She closed her eyes for a moment and smiled at the memory of the heavy piece of gold lying in her palm, still warm from being worn against Sarah’s body. ‘There’s the brooch.’
‘What brooch?’ Lizzie asked.
‘I never told you about it, did I?’ Amy mused. ‘It was all secrets and hiding things. The brooch was my Christmas present. He…’ She stopped, then made herself say the name. ‘Jimmy gave it to me.’
After all those years, the word was so unfamiliar in her mouth that it almost seemed to burn its way out. But it would have been foolish to think she could share with them the wonder of Sarah and at the same time hide from the memory of Sarah’s father. She had said the name aloud, and felt she had passed a test.
‘It was made in the shape of an “A”. A for Amy. It was gold, too, it must’ve been quite valuable. I thought it was the most wonderful thing anyone had ever given me.’ And she had worn it every day, hidden under her dress as it hung on its chain between her breasts. She had thought it was a sign of his love.
A Second Chance Page 3