He addressed no one in particular, but Amy was aware of several pairs of eyes on her as the person likely to have the best memory of those days. Sarah was smiling encouragingly; Amy met her eyes for a moment to boost her courage, then turned her attention to Mr Lewis.
‘I wouldn’t want to say anything against Mr Seddon,’ she said, choosing her words with care. ‘I know he’s done a lot—and he’s getting quite old now, I don’t think his health’s what it was. But I followed it all in the paper, back when they were trying to get it through the Parliament, and… well, Mr Seddon wasn’t very keen on women getting the vote. It was the other men, really, like Mr Ballance and Mr Stout, who wanted it to go through.’
It felt a long speech to have made in front of people she had just met, but Sarah beamed her approval, and the other guests looked impressed.
‘Mrs Stewart’s quite right,’ said Martin. ‘My uncle was in the House at the time—I’m happy to report he supported the cause himself—and I’ve often heard him say similar things. According to him, there were remarks made behind closed doors by certain Members that were less than flattering to the ladies in question.’
‘How very interesting,’ said Mr Lewis. ‘Well, no doubt England will catch up with its offspring eventually. There’s been talk of perhaps allowing married women the vote—they’re already permitted to vote in local elections.’
‘That’s because they think married women will vote the way their husbands tell them to,’ Amy said, emboldened by the respect with which her opinion had been received.
‘I do look forward to having you tell me how to vote next time, dear,’ Emily told Martin, her eyes twinkling.
‘I rather get the impression that colonial ladies have no difficulty forming their own opinions,’ Mr Lewis said.
‘We certainly don’t,’ said Sarah. ‘We even have the audacity to believe our opinions can be as sound as those of men.’ There was a hint of steel in the smile with which she delivered her words.
‘I can quite believe it.’ Mr Lewis’ own smile, while perfectly polite, suggested a certain wariness.
Discussion turned to such innocuous subjects as the weather, and Mr Lewis asked Martin about his work at the Customs Department. The evening was wearing on, and Amy had to make an effort not to show any sign of the sleepiness creeping up on her. She was content to be an interested observer as conversation flowed around her, contributing only an occasional few words when politeness required it.
After sitting in complete silence for so long that the very air seemed heavier in their corner of the room, Miss Farrell and Mr Vincent had at last begun conversing together. It had started as no more than a few polite remarks on each other’s performance, but as Amy sat and listened she noticed that they were becoming more animated. She heard words like “modulate” and “first inversion”, and decided that they must be speaking of music in a language that, while it appeared on the surface to be English, was all but incomprehensible. As far as Amy could tell, Miss Farrell was describing a musical sequence that was giving her difficulty in a composition she was developing; it made no sense at all to Amy, and she turned her attention to conversations elsewhere in the room.
To her embarrassment, she realised that she would need to use the lavatory. She chose a moment when no one seemed to be looking in her direction, got up as quietly as she could, and slipped from the room.
When she returned, she found that the musicians had taken their discussion over to the piano. Miss Farrell was seated at the keyboard, quietly trying out different combinations of notes, while Mr Vincent stood close to her, leaning forward slightly to catch the sound. As Amy watched, Miss Farrell tried a sequence that clearly pleased her, then looked up at Mr Vincent, her eyes bright. ‘That’s just right,’ she said, bestowing a warm smile on him. ‘Thank you so much for suggesting it—I was quite at a loss how to finish that phrase.’
‘I was only building on what you do so cleverly in the first few bars,’ Mr Vincent said. Amy noticed what a pleasant voice he had when it was not shaking with nerves.
Emily had moved to sit with Sarah, and they were talking quietly. Amy saw Emily glance in the direction of the piano and smile at what she saw there. Emily placed her hand on Sarah’s arm, and indicated the two musicians with a flick of her head. Sarah followed her direction, then turned to Emily and raised her eyebrows in mock exasperation.
Tea was brought in; this seemed to be a signal that the soirée was nearing its end. Mr Lewis took his leave soon after finishing his second cup, thanking Sarah with what seemed genuine appreciation. Emily and Martin went soon afterwards; they insisted on taking Miss Farrell, whose boarding house was only a little out of their way, in their carriage. Mr Vincent left immediately after them, staying only long enough to thank Sarah profusely, barely allowing her a moment to thank him in her turn for his performance.
Late though it was by the time their guests had all gone, Amy and Sarah lingered over cups of warm milk in Sarah’s room, talking over the events of the evening.
‘I kept the guest list short tonight,’ Sarah said. ‘I didn’t want to overwhelm you at your first soirée.’
‘Everyone was very nice—and the music was lovely.’
‘Yes, Mr Vincent played a good deal better than I feared he might, from the state he was in when he got here. He seemed to come into his own once he was playing. Of course neither he nor Miss Farrell would be able to perform at all if they couldn’t control their nerves.’
‘It seems a hard way to try and make a living,’ said Amy. ‘Just hoping people will get you to play at their houses.’
‘I wouldn’t say either of them shows signs of living particularly well. But I’ll do what I can to make the evening worth their while. I’ll pay them for their performances, of course, but what’s probably worth more to them is the attention they’ll receive. I’ll see that an appropriate item appears in the newspaper. “A most pleasant evening was had at the home of Miss Sarah Millish lately. Musical performances by Miss Jean Farrell and Mr Alfred Vincent gave much enjoyment to those present, who included”, etcetera, etcetera. That should help them become better known around Auckland. I suspect Emily will take Miss Farrell under her wing, too.’
‘I liked Emily very much,’ said Amy. ‘She was so easy to talk to. I felt as if I’d known her for ages.’
‘I thought you’d like her. She and I got on well at school—Emily always seemed to have more sense than most of the other girls. Of course then she would go falling in love, but I must say she could have done a good deal worse than Martin. Miss Farrell’s songs were rather too sentimental for my taste, but Emily liked them—and she certainly sang them beautifully. She’ll praise them to everyone she knows, and that should help Miss Farrell sell her work.’
‘I’d never heard of a lady composer before. I hope it turns out all right for her. And for Mr Vincent, too—I thought he looked quite thin.’
‘I doubt if he’s actually starving, but that suit he was wearing verged on the threadbare. Of course a man living on his own mightn’t notice such things. Emily says he needs a wife.’ Sarah rolled her eyes. ‘I’ve no doubt she’ll be offering subtle guidance to Miss Farrell in that direction—I’m sure you noticed her interest in the two of them this evening? Emily’s been like that ever since she got married, thinking it’s the answer to any problem.’
Amy nodded. ‘Yes, I saw her looking at them when she was talking to you.’ She took a sip of her milk, and held the mug between her hands, enjoying the warmth. ‘Mr Lewis was nice. He must be very clever, too, to be a teacher at the university. Did you like him?’
‘He was pleasant enough. I’d been introduced to him before, of course, but tonight was the first time I’d had any real conversation with him. There’s a little too much of the sophisticated gentleman condescending to visit the land of Britain’s uncultured offspring about him, but he’ll get over that, and be the better for it. I think he was rather startled at how well-informed we colonial ladies are.’ She smi
led at Amy. ‘You certainly helped our cause there.’
‘It was nice to meet people who’re interested in talking about things like that. So do you think you’ll have Mr Lewis around again?’
‘Quite possibly. He seemed to mix well enough. Why do you ask?’ Sarah’s eyes narrowed. ‘Amy, are you trying your hand at matchmaking? Because if you are, it’s to stop at once. Emily’s bad enough without you joining in.’
‘I wasn’t really. He just seemed like someone who might suit you. I mean, he’s clever, and polite, and interested in some of the same things as you.’
‘And no doubt expects to run a household as he does a classroom, with him at the head, giving instructions to an admiring wife. I wouldn’t suit him, and he certainly wouldn’t suit me. Can we agree that there’ll be no more talk of such things?’ Sarah’s mouth curved into a mischievous smile. ‘You’d best watch yourself, Amy, or you might find you’re on the receiving end. “Have you met that pretty little widow who’s staying with Sarah Millish? She’s still rather young, you know. She’d be quite a catch.” I’m sure there’d be plenty of men capable of appreciating your fine qualities if they were noised abroad.’
‘Don’t tease, Sarah,’ Amy said, smiling in her turn. ‘I know you don’t mean it. Anyway, I wouldn’t marry again whoever asked me.’
‘I should think not! And I’ve no desire to try the experiment even once.’
‘You might change your mind later. When I was young, I didn’t think I wanted to get married, either. I was a lot younger than you are, though—I’d had four babies by the time I was your age.’
Sarah shuddered. ‘I don’t think I’ll change my mind. I’m quite set in my ways, and comfortably so.’ She frowned, puzzled. ‘Are you really so eager to recommend marriage? Forgive me, I know you don’t like to hear me speak ill of that man, but I would have thought your own experience had done little to endear you to the state.’
Amy looked down for a moment, gathering her thoughts. ‘It doesn’t have to be like it was for Charlie and me. I’m not trying to interfere, Sarah. I just don’t want you to miss out on anything. I want you to be happy.’
‘Believe me, my dear, that’s exactly what I want for myself. And that’s why I don’t intend to marry.’ Sarah put down her mug and leaned back in her chair. ‘Very few women have the luxury of financial independence. I’m fortunate enough to be in that position, so I’ve no need to put up with the inconvenience of a husband.’
‘But lots of women are happy with their husbands.’
‘Are they?’ Sarah’s expression was sceptical. ‘It seems to me that most women make a virtue of sheer economic necessity.’
‘They really are. I know some women get married because they have to—I suppose you could say that’s what I did—but it’s not fair to say they all do. Frank’s always made Lizzie very happy.’
‘Yes, well, he’d hardly dare do otherwise, would he?’ Sarah saw Amy’s expression, and pulled a face. ‘Oh, all right, the Kellys are an exception. And before you throw Emily in my face, I’ll admit that she seems happy enough with Martin, and she didn’t exactly marry to avoid being destitute.’ Her eyes grew wide. ‘But that’s just what poor Lily did—that’s the reason she married.’
‘Whatever do you mean, Sarah?’
‘Lily as good as told me so herself, when I got her talking. She was struggling to manage on the pittance she was paid, trying to put money away for when she wouldn’t be able to work any more—and she knew her health might break down, so she had no idea how long she’d be able to keep working. Teaching really didn’t suit Lily, but there are so few choices for a woman in her situation. So when Cousin Bill proposed, she snatched at the chance of a way out.’
‘Did Lily really tell you that?’ Amy asked, shocked.
Sarah met her eyes, then looked away. ‘Well, not exactly. She told me about the difficulty she’d had managing, and how worn out she’d been. I suppose the part about why she accepted Cousin Bill is my inference. I must confess I feel rather guilty about Lily.’
So you should, saying she only married Bill because of money, Amy was tempted to say, but she bit back the retort, contenting herself with, ‘Why?’
‘Oh, I practically forgot her existence. I was only a child when she left Auckland, but that’s a poor excuse, given how ready I was to take advantage of our connection when it came to seeking you out. And then I found what a difficult time of it she’d had over the years, and what she’d had to do to cope. If I’d only taken notice of her earlier… but it’s too late for that now. I still wish I could do something to make her life easier.’ Sarah turned a questioning gaze on Amy. ‘I suppose it would cause offence if I were to offer to buy her a piano?’
‘I should think it would,’ Amy said, still fighting the urge to say more.
Sarah sighed. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. Poor Lily, with her real musical gift, reduced to snatching at chances to play the Kellys’ piano in exchange for teaching their girls to thump away at it. Of course it wouldn’t occur to Cousin Bill to buy one for her.’
Sarah picked up her mug and drained the last of its contents, while Amy searched for the right words. It did not come easily for her to contradict Sarah, but she could not allow this to remain unchallenged.
‘I don’t think that’s fair,’ she said carefully. Sarah looked up, surprised. ‘Just because Bill can’t afford to buy Lily a piano, you shouldn’t go saying he’s never thought of it, or he wouldn’t like to. I’ve known Bill my whole life, and I know the sort of man he is. He thinks the world of Lily.’
Sarah raised her eyebrows. ‘Goodness, Amy, from you that’s almost a scolding. I’ll try to be suitably contrite.’
‘He really does, you know. I remember seeing them together when they were courting. I could see straight away how fond he was of Lily. And Lizzie told me about one time an awful boy—it was one of the Feenans—threw ink at Lily and ruined her dress. Lily came home crying over it, she must have been really upset. Bill’s not one to lose his temper, but he went down to the school the very next day and gave Des Feenan a seeing-to with his riding crop.’
Sarah gave a startled little laugh. ‘How gallant of him! I had no idea Cousin Bill could be so chivalrous.’
‘He can when Lily’s in it. That was when he proposed to Lily, after he saw how upset she was.’
‘This family you’ve presented me with is full of surprises,’ Sarah said, smiling. ‘Very well, I’ll accept that Cousin Bill is a true gentleman who worships the ground Lily walks on.’
‘Now you’re being silly,’ Amy said, but she smiled in her turn. ‘I don’t think Lily married Bill because she thought she had to marry someone, either,’ she added, emboldened by her success. ‘She married him because she wanted to.’
‘Enough,’ Sarah said, throwing up her hands in a melodramatic gesture. ‘I concede defeat. Not of my case in general, I’ll have you know, just as regards our immediate circle. But putting that to one side—as is my usual habit when I’m in danger of losing an argument, by the way—I still fail to see any reason why I should consider marriage. What’s there to put on the other side of the ledger against the independence and freedom that I’d be sacrificing?’
Amy reached out to stroke Sarah’s cheek. ‘There’s children.’
Sarah took Amy’s hand in her own, and drew it down to rest in her lap. ‘I’m afraid that seems poor compensation to me, Amy, even with myself as a shining example.’ She squeezed Amy’s hand. ‘I can see I’ll have to take more care in drawing up my guest lists in future, if I’m to avoid romantic flights of fancy at my expense,’ she said, eyes twinkling. ‘From now on, personable, unattached young men will be banned. The only single males allowed will be elderly—and preferably portly—clergymen.’
7
Beth leaned forward to take a biscuit from the plate in front of them, then snuggled back into David’s lap. He had a very comfortable lap, she had found.
‘I’d better go in a minute,’ she said. ‘Aunt Lily’s
coming down later to give Rosie and me our piano lesson, and I’m meant to do some practice first. She could tell last week that I hadn’t done any.’
‘You’re really good at it,’ said David, but Beth shook her head.
‘I’m not, you know. I can play a couple of things well enough for soyrees, and when Pa wants to hear me play something of an evening, but I’ll never be much good. I’m a bit sick of it,’ she confessed. ‘I don’t mind playing those easy ones, especially when it’s just the family, but it’s so hard to try and learn anything new, when I know I’m never going to get much better.’
‘Well, I think you sound pretty good. But you might as well tell Aunt Lily you can’t be bothered doing lessons any more.’
‘I wish I could, but Ma wants all us girls to learn—even Rosie, and she’s hopeless. Aunt Lily just cringes sometimes at how she bashes the keys. I don’t think she’s looking forward to Kate starting when she gets big enough.’
‘I suppose it means you can all take turns playing for the soyrees.’
Beth shrugged, nestling more snugly against David in the process. ‘I wish we could just have Aunt Lily playing all the time, she’s the only one who’s any good. But Ma’s that keen on us learning. She got the idea with Maudie—she thought if Maudie could play the piano she’d marry someone flash. It worked, too, she got Richard. I suppose that wasn’t just about the piano, though,’ Beth added thoughtfully. ‘But remember how Ma used to make such a fuss at the soyrees when Richard came out? “We’re going to listen to Maudie play now,” she’d say, as if it was ever such a treat.’
‘I wasn’t around when they were courting,’ David reminded her. ‘I was still in Waihi when Richard turned up.’
‘Oh, of course you were! I was forgetting. You missed the wedding and everything.’ She smiled ruefully. ‘I was almost as glad as Maudie was when Richard finally proposed.’
A Second Chance Page 11