A Second Chance

by Shayne Parkinson

  Sally Feenan gave Frank an openly appraising stare. ‘This is the bloke you live with, eh?’

  Frank felt Maisie stiffen under his arm. ‘Maisie lives with me and Mrs Kelly,’ he said. ‘She’s like one of our own daughters.’

  Sally continued to look him up and down. ‘Haven’t seen you at the hotel—or upstairs where we work. You should come around one of these nights. I’d see you enjoyed yourself.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Frank said cautiously. ‘But I like to stay home with my wife and kids of an evening.’

  Sally gave a low laugh. ‘Didn’t know there was blokes like you. You done all right for yourself, Maisie.’ She turned to Norah. ‘What do you reckon?’

  Norah looked at Frank and nodded slowly. ‘Yes. You done all right.’

  She threaded her arm through Sally’s, and the two of them walked off down the street in the direction of the hotel, heads held defiantly high.

  Frank had hoisted Maisie into the buggy, and was about to climb in himself, when Richard emerged from the convent gate and beckoned him over.

  ‘I spoke to the Mother Superior a few days ago about Maisie’s problem with proving her age,’ Richard said. ‘She said she’d see what she could do. I’ve just spoken with her again, and she gave me this for you.’

  He handed over a sheet of paper, tightly rolled and tied with a thin ribbon. ‘I think you’ll find this has as much legal force as a birth certificate would. It’s Maisie’s baptismal certificate. She’s most definitely of full age—and she has the right to say where she lives.’

  24

  Daisy was almost three months old, and in Amy’s opinion an enchanting child. She was as good a baby as David had been, sleeping through much of the night and easy to coax to smiles and giggles when she was awake. Amy delighted in any opportunity she had to play with Daisy and hear that magical little laugh, or just to sit with the baby on her lap, seeing those clear blue eyes turned on her, still with a touch of wonder in them at the newness of the world.

  Such opportunities were not common. Now that Beth had regained much of her former strength, she spent all the time she could out and about on the farm with David, but she had no intention of leaving Daisy behind. She fashioned a carrying sling out of an old sheet, and she would set off with the baby nestled cosily in it, but somehow if the three of them came back to the house together David would always have persuaded her to let him carry Daisy.

  Lizzie did not approve of all this. ‘You shouldn’t cart her around like that all the time,’ she told Beth when she heard what was going on. ‘Babies need their sleep. You just get her settled down in her cradle before you go wandering off with Dave.’ Beth listened politely, and with what appeared to be careful attention, then proceeded to ignore her mother’s advice.

  Only if Daisy happened to be asleep when Beth decided to go out with David would Amy find herself left in charge, and only if Daisy then happened to wake up before her mother returned did Amy have an excuse to take her out of the cradle and play with her. She knew she should leave Daisy to soothe herself for a few minutes rather than rushing in to pick her up, but somehow she always found she was by the cradle moments after hearing the first hint of a cry.

  A good start had been made on the new house during May, but things had come to a standstill after that. There had been a spell of wet weather, and now Frank and his sons were busy on work that had to be done on Frank’s new farm before spring. David had done a little on the house since then, but there were not many tasks that could be done by one person. He accepted the delays patiently enough, knowing Frank would come back to it as soon as he could spare the time.

  Amy enjoyed seeing David’s delight in his baby daughter. She was sure he would never be afraid of spoiling Daisy by showing her too much affection. If firmness was ever needed, Amy strongly suspected it would be up to Beth to provide it.

  David and Beth had both changed since Daisy’s birth; even more than might have been expected from such a momentous event in their lives. When Amy saw them together, she was struck by how careful they often were of each other. It was not awkwardness or distance; it was a tender attention to the other’s comfort, so foreign to Amy’s own experience that she watched it with something like awe.

  Richard had visited several times recently. Amy had wondered if he was anxious about Beth’s health, but when she cautiously asked if all was well, Beth assured her that Richard said both she and Daisy were in fine form. Perhaps, Amy thought, Richard felt a special interest in Daisy because of his own role in her delivery; especially since he was also her godfather. It was not hard to understand why anyone would want to spend time with Daisy.

  One Monday afternoon Amy carried a pile of freshly laundered bed linen into David and Beth’s bedroom, where Beth had just settled Daisy into her cradle after feeding her. Amy placed the sheets and pillowcases on the end of the bed. As she turned to leave the room, a strange looking object on the windowsill caught her eye.

  ‘What’s that?’ she asked, moving a little closer to get a better look at the thing. It was round, an inch or two in diameter, and appeared to be made of rubber.

  Beth glanced around. When she saw where Amy was looking, her eyes widened in alarm. She moved quickly to the windowsill, snatched up the rubber object, and shoved it into a small box that she picked up from a chair beside the bed. ‘Nothing.’ She sat down on the bed and stared at her lap. ‘It’s nothing.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be nosy,’ Amy said, startled at the strength of Beth’s reaction. She made to leave the room, but she had only taken a few steps when Beth spoke again.

  ‘I’m not supposed to have any more babies.’ Her eyes were still downcast, and she was fiddling distractedly with the box in her lap.

  Amy sat on the bed beside her. ‘Yes, I know. Your ma told me. I thought I’d wait and see if you wanted to tell me yourself.’

  Beth raised her eyes to meet Amy’s. ‘I don’t really mind about not having any more babies, not when I’ve got Daisy. I suppose it would’ve been nice for Davie to have a son, but he says he doesn’t mind either, and he really loves Daisy, and I can help him on the farm, especially when Daisy gets a bit older—I can milk and things.’ She paused for breath, then seemed in no hurry to continue.

  Amy sat and waited patiently, careful not to press Beth into saying more than she wanted to.

  ‘It’s just… we have to make sure I don’t have any more,’ Beth said at last. ‘And Davie said he’d try… But it’s hard, Aunt Amy. It’s hard to say we’ll never… He was talking about going back to his old room out on the verandah, but I said that wouldn’t be right… And it was getting like he was scared even to have a cuddle or anything…’

  Beth shook her head. ‘We were going to try our best. Then Richard came out to see us, and he said he’d been worrying ever since he’d had to tell Davie about not having any more babies. He said…’ Beth paused, as if calling to mind the exact words used. ‘He said he knew it was asking too much of us, and it would only be a matter of time before the inevitable happened. So he’d been writing to a doctor he knows in Auckland—do you know they have doctors up there that just do delivering babies and things to do with women’s insides?’ she said, wide-eyed at the notion. ‘He told this doctor about me not being meant to have any more babies—he didn’t say my name or anything, he just said I was a patient—and they wrote back and forth about what we might be able to do. Then the other doctor sent Richard this thing.’

  She opened the box on her lap, and Amy peered in at the rubber object. ‘Whatever is it?’ Amy asked.

  Beth looked away, her face reddening. ‘It’s to stop a baby from happening. I have to put it up inside me before we… you know. Then I have to leave it there for a while before I can take it out and wash it. I let it dry on the windowsill before I put it away.’

  ‘What a good idea,’ Amy said, staring at the nondescript piece of rubber that held such power. ‘I’ve never heard of such a thing.’

  ‘Richard said
we can’t rely on it, though,’ Beth said, regret clear in her voice. ‘Things like this help, but they don’t work every time. So we still have to be careful. We should be all right with using this thing while I’m feeding Daisy, especially if we… if Davie… if we sort of stop before…’ She trailed off, leaving Amy somewhat mystified, but reluctant to ask for more details.

  ‘But we’ll have to be a lot more careful once Daisy’s weaned,’ she went on. ‘Once my bleeding gets back to normal, that’s when I’ll be really fruitful again. Even with using this thing we’ll only be able to on the day or two just after my bleeding finishes every month. But that’s good, isn’t it?’ she said, turning a pleading face to Amy. ‘That’s much better than saying we never can ever again.’

  It seemed a very long time since the brief period of Amy’s life when she had found pleasure in such matters. But she knew that for Beth and David it would mean rigid self-control.

  ‘Yes, it’s very good,’ she said, squeezing Beth’s hand. ‘It’s lucky we had Richard to get that for you.’

  Beth closed the lid of the box. ‘Don’t tell anyone—especially about this thing. I know you wouldn’t gossip, it’s just that Richard asked us not to say anything about it. Lots of doctors think it’s awful, you see, for women to have a way to stop having babies. I don’t see that it’s any of their business,’ she said fiercely, and Amy nodded her agreement. ‘But it’s even in the law that you’re not meant to send things like this through the post—they put that in the law last year, Richard said. It should be all right when it’s doctors sending them, but I’d hate to get Richard in trouble when he’s been so good about everything.’

  ‘I won’t say a word.’ Amy wondered how she could find out Richard’s favourite sort of baking, so she could make it specially when he was next expected.

  *

  It was now hard to believe that Beth’s health had caused so much concern. She spent her days caring for Daisy, helping David on the farm, and helping Amy in the house, and seemed to have enough energy to make a fine job of it all. It was clear to Amy that Beth was ready to run the house on her own. That meant it was time to consider once again Sarah’s proposal that Amy should come to live with her.

  She chose a day when they were all in the kitchen lingering over their morning tea to raise the subject. Daisy was snuggled in David’s lap, her eyes drooping as she drifted off into a well-fed sleep, one of David’s fingers clutched in her little fist. Beth stroked Daisy’s hair and shared a contented smile with David. Amy studied the tableau, feeling her resolve strengthen as she watched them together.

  ‘I think I might go up to Auckland soon,’ she announced.

  Beth and David turned surprised faces to her. ‘Again?’ David said. ‘But you were there for ages just last year.’

  ‘Sarah wants me to come back, and I think it’s a good idea.’

  ‘How long do you think you’ll stay this time, Aunt Amy?’ Beth asked.

  Amy paused for a moment to prepare herself for their reaction. ‘Actually, I’m thinking of moving up there.’

  They both frowned, puzzled, then looked startled.

  ‘Move?’ said David. ‘What, leave the farm and go up there for good? You can’t do that!’

  ‘Wouldn’t you miss Daisy?’ Beth asked, wide-eyed at the notion that anyone could willingly deprive themselves of her baby’s company.

  ‘Of course I will. I’ll miss all of you. But I’ll come back for visits—I don’t want Daisy forgetting me. And it’s not as far as all that.’ She would simply have to get used to making that wretched boat trip several times a year; she knew it was futile to hope she would ever become a better sailor.

  Beth looked unconvinced, while David was clearly troubled. ‘You can’t, Ma. I can’t let you do that.’

  ‘That’s not up to you to decide, Davie,’ Amy said. ‘It’s for me to say what I’ll do.’

  Now he looked close to distraught. ‘But why do you want to go away?’

  ‘I think it’d be better for us all. Sarah’s in that great big house of hers all by herself, and she wants me to come and live with her. And it’d be nice for you two to have the place to yourselves, instead of having me here all the time.’

  ‘But we like having you here,’ Beth said. ‘I don’t want you to go away because of me! It’ll be like I’ve chased you away.’ She seemed almost on the verge of tears.

  ‘Of course you haven’t chased me away. I just think it’s time I went. And I wouldn’t be able to if you weren’t here to look after Dave for me.’

  ‘No,’ David said, shaking his head. ‘You can’t. You mustn’t. You’re meant to stay here. I don’t want you going off just because of me and Beth. I don’t want to kick you out.’

  ‘You’re not kicking me out. It’s me who’s decided I want to go.’

  David’s distress had communicated itself to Daisy, who stirred and began whimpering. Beth gathered the baby onto her own lap to soothe her; David barely seemed to notice.

  ‘Pa thought I might, you know,’ he said, speaking rapidly and showing no sign of having heard Amy. ‘He even put it in his will.’

  ‘That’s just a thing they put in wills,’ Amy said. ‘Your father didn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘No, he did mean it,’ David insisted. ‘He told me he was going to have the lawyer put it in—it was one of those days when he wasn’t muddled. He said I was to look after you, and he said, “Don’t you go thinking you can kick your ma out as soon as you get wed. She’s as much right to live here as you have.” I said of course I wouldn’t kick you out, and he said he’d make sure I couldn’t.’

  ‘You never told me that,’ Amy said, taken aback.

  ‘It never needed saying before. It does now, if you think you have to go and live with strangers just because of us.’

  ‘Sarah’s not a stranger. She’s… she’s a good friend to me.’

  ‘But she’s not family,’ David said. ‘If you go up there, it means I’ve shoved you out to go and live with someone you just met last year. It’s not right. I can’t let you.’

  Not family. The force of David’s emotion and the shock of hearing those words robbed Amy of speech. She clasped her hands tightly in her lap until she felt them stop shaking. It was clear what she needed to do, but she doubted her own courage to do it.

  ‘All right, let’s not talk about it any more just now,’ she said when she could trust her voice. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’ She rose to take the dishes to the bench, and soon afterwards David went outside.

  *

  All through the rest of the day, the task ahead loomed over Amy. She was sure David and Beth were sincere in saying they wanted her to stay; she was equally sure they would be happier on their own. Going to live with Sarah was the right thing to do; her head and heart agreed on that. But she could not allow David to feel it was his fault. She could no longer allow him to think of Sarah as a stranger.

  She waited till the evening, when Daisy was asleep in her cradle and the three of them were in the parlour, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Beth and David were talking about the calving that would soon begin, and about their plans for improving the herd, while Beth stitched at a small tear in one of David’s shirts. Amy waited for a pause in their conversation, took a deep breath, and spoke.

  ‘I need to tell you two something.’

  She saw David stiffen, and Beth look at him in concern. ‘Is this about you going away?’ he asked. ‘I thought we decided about that.’

  ‘No, it’s not. Well, in a way…’ It was so hard to find the right words. They were both watching her, sitting side by side on the sofa, Beth’s sewing lying forgotten on her lap. Beth had taken David’s hand, a movement that seemed so natural Amy suspected she was not even aware she had done it.

  The waiting silence hung between them, daring Amy to break it. Daring her to risk what must be done.

  ‘Before I married your father,’ she began, and saw David’s tense expression change to a puzzled one. ‘Before I
even thought of such a thing… there was another man I thought I was going to marry.’

  Now David looked astonished. ‘Who was it?’

  ‘No one you know. He wasn’t from Ruatane. Please… I don’t want you to ask me a lot of questions. This isn’t easy for me to talk about.’

  David opened his mouth as if to press her further, but at a nudge from Beth he closed it.

  ‘He asked me to marry him, and I said yes. But I was only fifteen, and we thought your grandpa would say I was too young. So he—the man—said we’d better keep it a secret engagement for a while.’ She saw David and Beth exchange a look, and was sure they were thinking of their own secret courtship. ‘He was going to write and ask his father’s permission, then ask Grandpa, but somehow the time kept drifting on.’

  And now came the hardest part.

  ‘Then one day…’ She found she could not look at David. Instead she stared into the fire, watching the flames twisting and writhing as they devoured the dry wood. ‘I told him I was going to have a baby.’

  She thought she heard a sharp intake of breath from Beth’s side of the couch, but there was not a sound from David. What would she see if she dared look at his face? Shock, certainly. But what else? Understanding? Concern? Or disgust and loathing?

  She was not ready to meet what might be there. Not yet. Not till she had said all she had to. ‘He said he’d go back to… to where he lived, and tell his father about it, then he’d come back and tell Pa. I was to keep it a secret till he came back. So he went, and I waited. I waited a long time. Then I found out he wasn’t coming back. He didn’t want to marry me. He didn’t want me, and he didn’t want the baby.’

  Amy made herself turn to face David, and saw blank bewilderment in his eyes, as if her words had been in a foreign language.

  She opened her mouth intending to ask, ‘Do you think I’m awful now?’ but what came out was the question that was eating at her heart. She had to know, even though she was terrified of what the answer might be. ‘Do you still love me, Davie?’