A Second Chance

by Shayne Parkinson

  Lizzie looked rather tired, but Frank looked exhausted. He managed to rouse himself to give Amy a brief, tired smile before his mouth drooped again. She could see that he could barely keep his eyes open. ‘Sorry you had to walk, Amy,’ he said.

  ‘That’s all right, Frank. The exercise will do me good, with all the sitting around I’ve done lately.’

  They managed a stilted conversation over their cups of tea, with Lizzie asking questions about Auckland that Amy knew she was not particularly interested in the answers to. As soon as they had finished, Frank sent the boys outside, telling them to tidy out some of the sheds while the rain lasted.

  ‘Can I see Beth?’ Amy asked.

  ‘Of course you can,’ said Lizzie. ‘Maisie, go and get her.’

  ‘She won’t want to come out here,’ Maisie said, glancing at Frank as she spoke.

  ‘Never mind that—you tell her I said she’s to come. Hurry up, girl.’

  Frank watched as Maisie left the room. ‘I don’t blame you for this, Amy,’ he said.

  Amy knew he meant well, but she found it difficult not to jump to her boy’s defence. ‘Perhaps you should, Frank,’ she said carefully. ‘I brought him up, after all. So I suppose it’s partly my fault.’

  ‘That’s just what I’ve been saying about Beth,’ Lizzie said with more than a hint of satisfaction. ‘I think I’m as much to blame as anyone. I’m the one who let my daughter spend all day with a boy, with no one to keep an eye on them.’

  ‘All right,’ Frank said testily. ‘There’s no need to go on about blaming.’

  ‘Well, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you,’ said Lizzie. Frank scowled at her; she stared back, unabashed.

  Amy looked up at a slight noise, and saw Beth in the doorway, with Maisie standing close behind. Beth looked as if she had just splashed water on her face, but it was still blotched with red, and her eyes were swollen. She came a few steps into the room, then stood as if afraid to come any closer. Amy’s heart went out to her. She got up from the table, crossed to Beth, and took the girl in her arms.

  Beth clung to her, sobbing. Through the incoherent gulps, Amy could make out ‘I’m sorry,’ but little else. ‘Shh, shh,’ she soothed. ‘It’s all right, Beth. It’ll be all right.’ It was all she could do to keep from weeping in sympathy.

  Beth calmed herself enough to murmur, ‘Is Davie all right?’

  ‘Yes, except for being so worried about you,’ Amy answered softly. ‘We sat up late last night talking about it all. I’ll be able to tell him I’ve seen you, so that’s good.’

  ‘Tell him I miss him,’ Beth whispered.

  ‘I will.’ Amy disengaged herself, took Beth by the hand and led her to the table. ‘Come and see what I’ve got for you,’ she said, as if promising a tearful child a treat. ‘I brought you something from Auckland.’

  She took the small box from her drawstring pouch and handed it to Beth. ‘It’s to say thank you for…’ Amy stopped herself just in time; “Looking after Dave” would be tactless in front of Frank. ‘For looking after the house and everything. It’s from Sarah as well—she helped me get it.’

  Beth sniffed, wiped a hand across her eyes, and took the box. She opened it, saw the brooch, and gasped. ‘Oh, Aunt Amy, it’s lovely! Thank you.’ For a moment she seemed on the verge of smiling, but instead she dissolved into fresh tears.

  Lizzie pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and handed it to Beth. ‘Blow your nose, girl, we don’t want to hear you sniffing like that. Now, let’s see this on you.’ She took the brooch and pinned it to the front of Beth’s dress. ‘Doesn’t that look nice?’

  Beth looked at Amy, Maisie and Lizzie all smiling encouragingly at her, and again she seemed on the point of smiling herself. Then she caught her father’s eye, and looked away quickly. ‘Thank you for the lovely present, Aunt Amy.’ She turned a pleading face to her mother. ‘Can I go now, Ma?’

  Lizzie made a noise of irritation. ‘All right. Go and do some tidying up in the parlour, I’ll call you in a bit to come and help me get lunch on. Maisie, you go with her, I want to talk to Aunt Amy.’

  Frank watched the girls go. ‘She can’t stand the sight of me,’ he said morosely.

  ‘It’s not that,’ said Amy. ‘She thinks you can’t bear the sight of her. No, I know that’s not true,’ she said, forestalling the protest she saw on his lips. ‘But it’s how Beth feels. Don’t forget, I know a bit about what this is like for a girl.’

  ‘I’m only thinking of her, you know,’ Frank said, the pain clear in his voice. ‘I just want the best for her.’

  ‘Of course you do. We all want the best for them.’ Amy could see that Frank was about to go outside; she quickly gathered her thoughts and spoke again. ‘Frank, I know Dave’s not the sort of boy you were thinking of for Beth. He hasn’t got a lot of money, and our place isn’t very flash—it’s not nearly as nice as yours.’

  ‘I’m not too worried about that,’ Frank said unconvincingly.

  ‘I’m sure you could have found someone better off than Dave, especially for a lovely girl like Beth. But I don’t think you’d ever have found anyone who cares more about her than he does. He loves her, Frank. That counts for something, doesn’t it?’

  Frank opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again without speaking. He gave a helpless shrug, and went outside.

  *

  Frank had not had a good night’s sleep for what felt like months, and there was no sign that he was to be allowed one in the near future. His daughter was wretchedly unhappy, and this had somehow become his fault. His sons were increasingly wary of him. He had found himself shouting at Danny for knocking over a bag of oats; the boys were not used to hearing their father’s voice raised in anger even when they had done something to deserve it, let alone for a simple accident. Whenever he was unwise enough to let Lizzie catch his eye, her expression ranged between reproachful and exasperated.

  He sat in the kitchen, listening to the hum of conversation around him and trying to rouse the energy to decide what to do next. Even putting his thoughts in order seemed to take a huge effort.

  Amy was there, as she had been every morning since she had come home. She would share morning tea with the family, then stay on for a short time afterwards, talking with Lizzie. Frank was not part of those discussions, but it was not hard to guess their main subject.

  ‘You going to be here a while yet, Amy?’ he asked when there was a lull in the conversation.

  Amy looked over at him and smiled. Hers was the only reliably friendly face there seemed to have been in his house since this whole business had started. Before she had the chance to speak, Lizzie answered for her.

  ‘Yes, she is. We might do a spot of baking before she goes home.’

  ‘That’s good,’ said Frank. ‘I just wondered, because I’m going out for a bit. I’ll give you a lift home after that if you don’t mind waiting.’

  He saw a knowing look exchanged between the two women. ‘Thank you, Frank,’ said Amy. ‘I don’t mind waiting.’

  *

  Frank tethered his horse to the fence and walked up to David’s back door, to see David himself standing in the entrance, a half-eaten biscuit clutched in one hand. He filled the entire doorway, even having to stoop slightly to avoid hitting his head.

  ‘Hello, Uncle Frank.’ He eyed Frank in evident surprise.

  They stood looking at one another for a moment, then Frank said, ‘Can I come in, then?’

  ‘Yes,’ David said cautiously. He stepped back into the kitchen, making space for Frank to enter.

  ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ he asked when the silence had lasted long enough to become awkward.

  ‘No thanks.’ Frank studied David, towering over him in the small room. What had possessed him to take on this young giant? He was uncomfortably aware that he had only emerged unscathed from the encounter because David had made no attempt to defend himself. Lizzie claimed she had seen David bend down to make it easier for Frank to reach him, b
ut Frank felt that was going too far.

  ‘How much do you make off this place, Dave?’ he asked abruptly.

  ‘Um… I’ve been writing up accounts,’ David said, a tiny spark of pride in the accomplishment discernible in his voice. ‘You want to see them?’

  ‘All right,’ Frank said, impressed despite himself. A guilty memory nudged at him, reminding him that he had been close to ten years older than David was before he had started keeping proper accounts.

  David shoved what remained of his biscuit into his mouth and went through to the parlour, and from there to his room. Frank followed without being invited. He looked around at the stark little parlour while he waited for David to return.

  The walls and floor were bare wood, a faded rag rug the most colourful thing in the room. There was an ancient sofa and two mismatched chairs that he suspected might have been in the cottage even before Charlie had moved into it. An upturned wooden crate served as a side table. The room was spotlessly clean, and crocheted covers disguised some of the places where stuffing showed through the arms of the furniture, but there was little of comfort and nothing of luxury here.

  ‘You ever think about doing this place up?’ Frank asked when David emerged from his room with a large accounts book.

  David looked startled at the notion. No,’ he said simply. He carried the accounts book through to the kitchen and spread it out on the table for Frank’s inspection.

  Frank took the chair David held out for him. He flicked back a few pages to the beginning of the book while David sat down beside him. The early entries were in a neat writing that looked to be a woman’s.

  ‘Ma showed me how to write them up,’ David said. ‘She used to help Grandpa with his.’

  Amy’s writing was soon replaced by a clumsier hand that was clearly David’s. Frank scanned the columns and found the entries for David’s cream cheques. The figures he had so painstakingly entered were pathetically low.

  Another hand had written in the last few columns. David saw Frank’s eyes go to them. ‘Beth did those. I was having trouble getting it all to add up properly, but we figured it out together.’ He turned to the back of the book, where a different set of columns had been ruled. ‘She showed me how to write all this stuff about the cows, too, see? I’ve been writing it all down, what cow had which calf and all. Beth says maybe I can improve the herd. And you said… you said I could borrow your bull this year.’

  ‘I suppose I did,’ Frank said, mildly surprised. It could only have been a few months since he had made the offer, but it felt like something from the distant past, when life had been a good deal simpler.

  David chewed at his lip, obviously working up the courage to say something. ‘How’s Beth?’ he asked.

  ‘Miserable,’ Frank said. ‘She cries all the time, as far as I can tell. Not that I see much of her.’ He studied David’s anxious face, and felt himself torn between resentment and dimly remembered fondness for the boy. Resentment was currently the stronger emotion, but stronger still was the memory of Beth’s unhappy face. He shook his head, trying unsuccessfully to clear his thoughts. If only he weren’t so desperately tired, perhaps he would be able to think straight.

  ‘Listen, Dave. You came barging in the other day, telling me I had to let you marry Beth. A man doesn’t like to be told what he has to do with his own daughter. How about you come down tomorrow afternoon and ask me properly—ask, I said, mind—and then… well, we’ll see.’

  He saw David’s eyes light up. The boy leaned forward eagerly, hands resting on his knees. Large, strong hands they were. The thought of those hands daring to touch his daughter sent a fresh wave of resentment through Frank. He lifted his gaze back to David’s face and was struck by how much it resembled his mother’s. Instead of reassuring him, the sweetness of David’s expression irritated Frank. The boy had no business sitting there looking as if butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth; not after what he had done. The soft, dark curls that brushed against his cheeks seemed the height of impudence.

  ‘Get your ma to give you a haircut first,’ Frank snapped. ‘A good, short one.’

  David flinched. ‘I don’t need—’

  ‘I haven’t said yes, boy,’ Frank interrupted. ‘I’ve only said you can come and ask me. You needn’t bother asking if you turn up looking like that.’

  *

  Amy was grateful to Frank for taking her home, but by the time the short ride had ended, she was almost wishing she had walked. Frank had barely said a word to her, and she had quickly run out of banal remarks to fill the silence.

  The awkward trip at least had the advantage of getting her home more quickly. She said a hurried goodbye and rushed into the house to find David.

  ‘What happened?’ she asked breathlessly. ‘Did Uncle Frank come and see you? What did he say?’

  David turned a troubled face to her. ‘He said I can come and ask him properly tomorrow. I’m allowed to go to his place and ask to marry Beth.’

  ‘That’s good! I’m sure he must mean to say yes, he wouldn’t tease you about an important thing like this.’ She looked at David’s gloomy expression in surprise. ‘What have you got such a long face for?’

  ‘He said I have to have a haircut first.’

  Amy laughed. ‘Is that all? Oh, I’m sorry, Davie, I know you hate having your hair cut. But it’s not so much to ask, is it? Not if it means you’re going to be allowed to marry Beth.’

  ‘I suppose not.’ David did not sound completely convinced.

  As soon as they had had their lunch, Amy fetched her scissors and draped an old towel around David’s shoulders. She snipped off the first few curls, doing her best to judge when he was about to give a sudden, nervous twitch.

  ‘You’d better…’ David began, then trailed off.

  Amy paused in her snipping. ‘I’d better what?’

  David looked down at the floor. ‘He said to make it good and short,’ he said miserably.

  ‘Then I will.’ She moved the scissors closer to his scalp, and halted as he flinched again. ‘Davie, if I’m going to cut it short you’ll have to try and keep still. Or I really might nick your ear.’

  David looked grim and determined, clenched his fists where they lay on his thighs, and managed to keep more or less still.

  The scissors sliced off long locks, leaving a pile of hair spread in an arc on the floor and leaving David looking somehow small and vulnerable. When Amy had finished, she brushed the last few loose strands away from his face and stepped back to check her work. ‘There. You won’t need another one for ages now. I think I might get Beth to do it from now on, she must be used to cutting boys’ hair.’ She put her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. ‘It’ll be all right, Davie. You’ll see.’

  *

  Frank managed with difficulty to avoid satisfying Lizzie’s curiosity as to his errand until that evening. Then there was no escape.

  ‘I saw Dave. And he’s coming down tomorrow afternoon to ask me.’

  Lizzie’s expression showed how ridiculous she considered this. ‘Why didn’t you just tell him then and there? What have you got to have him running around here for?’

  ‘Because I want to be asked properly. And now I want a good night’s sleep. I want to be thinking straight tomorrow. I’ve got some business at the factory in the morning, and then I’ve got him coming in the afternoon.’

  Whether Lizzie would have allowed him to sleep undisturbed remained unanswered, because soon after she had put out the lamp Benjy broke the silence. Frank had to admit that Benjy was normally a good sleeper, but tonight he was fretful and hard to settle. ‘It’s that new tooth he’s getting,’ Lizzie said as she paced the floor with him. ‘That, and he’s sick of you being so grumpy all the time.’

  Benjy did not want to be fed, and he did not need his napkin changed. His wails subsided to a fitful sobbing as Lizzie walked with him, but they began anew when she tried to put him back in his cradle. Lizzie gave in readily enough, and took him into bed wi
th her. Snuggled between his parents, Benjy soon returned to his usual cheerful mood, though not to being sleepy. There was a good deal of tickling and giggling that seemed to last for hours. Had he not been so tired, Frank would have liked to join in.

  *

  Maisie was the first to see David and Amy walking up the path the following afternoon.

  ‘He’s coming,’ she announced, turning wide-eyed from the kitchen window. ‘Dave is!’

  ‘Yes, we knew he was coming over today,’ Lizzie said briskly. ‘You can talk to him in the parlour, Frank, I’ll get Maisie to take your tea through there.’

  But Frank had no intention of talking to David in a place where Lizzie could so easily eavesdrop. ‘No, I’ll see him outside,’ he said, going out to the porch to meet the visitors and to avoid further discussion with Lizzie.

  Amy went on inside, and Frank led David away from the house. He was quite certain they were being watched from the kitchen; he chose to disappoint their audience by making sure they were shielded from view by one of the sheds before he halted.

  He could not fault the shortness of David’s hair. It had left the boy looking younger than ever, staring at Frank with large, anxious eyes. ‘Well?’ Frank demanded. ‘What have you got to say for yourself?’

  He saw David frowning in concentration, clearly going through words in his head. Frank suspected he had been practising this speech with his mother.

  ‘I want to ask your permission,’ David said carefully, ‘to marry Beth.’ He paused, waiting for a response; when none came, he ploughed on. ‘I know I haven’t got as much money as you, and my place isn’t very flash. But I want to look after Beth, and I think I can. I’ll try my hardest to.’ When there was still no reply, he added, ‘And there’s the baby. It’d be better if we were married when the baby comes.’