A Second Chance

by Shayne Parkinson

  ‘No, they didn’t,’ Amy said, remembering similar arguments with Malcolm himself. ‘I know you’d have thought it at times, the way they used to fight, but they didn’t hate each other.’

  ‘Mal used to go on and on about his dad. I got fed up with it. In the end I asked him if he hated him so much why did he want to talk about him all the time?’

  ‘Yes, exactly,’ Amy murmured.

  ‘But the old bloke would’ve kicked me down the road, and Eddie after me, if I’d turned up here.’

  ‘Oh, he’d have wanted Eddie, all right.’ Though it was doubtful, Amy privately agreed, that Charlie would have welcomed Milly’s presence. ‘Well, what’s done is done.’

  Beth brought the tea things to the table and took her own seat beside David. David seemed grateful for the distraction of teacups and plates of biscuits; it gave him an excuse not to talk to Milly.

  The two children were not burdened with any sense of the situation’s awkwardness. They studied each other with interest. Daisy beamed and gurgled and waved her arms at Eddie, while he regarded her solemnly. He looked at Daisy, then at the biscuit in his hand, pondered the matter for a few moments, and held the biscuit out towards the baby.

  Beth intervened, taking the biscuit before it could make its way into Daisy’s hand. ‘Thank you, Eddie, but Daisy’s too little for bikkies yet,’ she said, smiling as she returned the biscuit, and getting a cautious answering smile.

  David shifted awkwardly on his chair, moving Daisy to the other side of his lap. ‘Do you want to have a look around the farm?’ he asked Eddie.

  Eddie looked dubious at the prospect, but before he had a chance to answer, Milly did it for him. ‘He’s not used to blokes,’ she said, gripping Eddie more firmly. ‘He wouldn’t want to go off with you on his own.’

  Whether intentionally or not, she made it sound like an accusation, and that was how David appeared to take it. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered, looking down at the floor. Amy was not surprised when soon afterwards, having gulped down his tea and passed Daisy across to Beth, he said that he needed to go back outside.

  Beth seemed torn between indignation at any slight towards David and the need to show politeness to their guest. She gave Milly a hard look, then stood up with Daisy in her arms. ‘I’ll feed her in the bedroom, I think,’ she announced.

  Milly watched as David left the room. She turned back to Amy. ‘I suppose that one got on all right with the old man.’

  Amy smiled at the notion. ‘He did at the end, when his father was old and sick, and just needed looking after—Davie was very good with him. But when he was a boy… well, not really. Mr Stewart always took more notice of Mal, anyway.’

  Milly considered this, then nodded, apparently finding it easy to believe that Malcolm would be of more interest than his brother. ‘Mal reckoned getting away from his old man’d be just about worth going off to the war. That wasn’t really why he went, though.’ She shot a challenging look at Amy. ‘Do you know why?’

  ‘He wanted an adventure,’ Amy said quietly. She watched Eddie, who appeared to be doing his best to follow this conversation that included so many tantalising references to his father. She ached to reach out and draw him into her arms, but made herself tread carefully. She was still little more than a stranger to him, and there was no sense in frightening the child.

  ‘Yes!’ Milly said. ‘He used to go on about getting out of Ruatane and seeing other places. He had pictures and things out of the paper—he’d bring them to show me. I thought he was just making it up about going away, you know what blokes are like for telling stories. But he kept on about it, then he told me he had the tickets and money and all.’

  She stroked Eddie’s hair and looked into an invisible distance as she spoke. ‘He stayed at my place the night before he went. I think that was the night we got Eddie on the go.’ She planted a quick kiss on his shock of hair. ‘I left the window open for him, and he ended up staying right till it was daylight. We lay there and talked for hours and hours, about foreign countries and riding his horse across the plains, and seeing wild animals. He said he’d come back and get me when the fighting had finished, and take me to Africa to see it all for myself. Mal talked a lot of rot sometimes,’ she added fondly, her eyes suspiciously bright. Amy felt tears pricking at her own eyes at this revelation of an unsuspected tender side to Malcolm.

  ‘He gave me this just before he went away.’ Milly stretched out her wrist to reveal a silver bangle. ‘I saw them in the jeweller’s window afterwards—they cost two shillings! He pinched this one for me,’ she said proudly.

  While Amy could not pretend to be impressed by Malcolm’s effort, she hid her reaction. She would have to find some way of leaving the money anonymously in Mr Hatfield’s shop.

  ‘Then he went off, and a couple of months later I found out Eddie was on the way. Ma wasn’t too pleased, but she said we’d just have to wait till Mal got back and hope he’d marry me. I don’t know if he would have or not.’

  ‘He would have if I’d had any say in it.’ Though Amy knew her own influence would have had little sway over Charlie.

  ‘I thought maybe I could write to him or something, but I didn’t know where to write, and I didn’t know who to ask about it. So I just waited, and hoped he’d come back soon. Then I found out he wasn’t coming back at all.’ Her head drooped, and Eddie raised a finger to touch the shining trail making its way down one cheek.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Amy murmured. ‘I wish I’d known about you and Eddie.’ She reached out and stroked Milly’s arm, but felt it stiffen beneath her touch. Milly, it was clear, was not someone easily persuaded to let down her guard.

  Milly wiped her sleeve over her eyes. ‘Ma said we might as well move away after we heard about Mal. She said people would only be poking their noses in and gossiping. I wanted to stay and see that memorial thing once I heard about it, though—I put my foot down over waiting for that. I was showing by then, but I didn’t go out much, and no one took any notice of me at the service. We went to Tauranga just a couple of weeks later, and that’s where Eddie was born. And we’ve been there since.’

  ‘I’m glad you’ve brought Eddie to see us at last. It’s a long way to come with a little one.’

  Milly sighed. ‘Ma got sick last year. Then this year she got really bad, and she died a couple of months back.’

  ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Amy.

  ‘It was sort of a relief in the end. She was wanting to go. And she was never that fond of Eddie—she said she was past putting up with little kids at her age. But it’s been hard to manage since.’ Now they were getting to just what had finally prompted Milly to approach Malcolm’s family, Amy realised. ‘Ma had a bit put to one side, but it mostly went on doctors. And her and I used to both work before she got sick, cleaning people’s houses and taking in washing and things. It’s been hard getting enough work to pay the rent and everything with just me to do it, and I’ve got to try and keep an eye on Eddie, too. He gets into everything—you’re a brat,’ she said, without the least hint of censure. Eddie giggled with satisfaction.

  ‘Do you need some help with managing?’ Amy asked cautiously, wondering how best to avoid giving offence. ‘I’ve got a little bit of my own, I’d be only too glad—’

  ‘I don’t want money!’ Milly said indignantly. ‘I didn’t come here looking for charity.’

  ‘Eddie’s my grandson, Milly. It wouldn’t be charity.’

  Milly looked away, discomforted. ‘Well, anyway, I didn’t come asking for money. I’ve got myself a job,’ she said, her eyes lighting up. ‘A really good one. It’s at a hotel down on the Strand in Tauranga—one of the flash places, with a dining room and all. I’ll be helping in the kitchen, and they said if I do all right at that I’ll be able to wait on tables in the dining room. They have fancy white cloths on the tables, and flowers in vases, and real silver knives and forks. I’d get to wear a black uniform with a white cap with real lace on it.’

  ‘That
sounds very nice.’

  ‘And I can live in, so that’s my room and board all covered. They’ve got a few rooms for the maids out the back. The only thing is, I can’t have Eddie with me.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Amy. ‘I see.’

  ‘It’d just be for a while,’ Milly said, a plea in her eyes. ‘Just until I’ve got enough saved up. It won’t be costing anything for my keep, I’ll be able to save my whole pay, pretty well. Then I thought once I had enough put by, I could get a job just in the daytime, even though that wouldn’t pay as much. Eddie’ll start school at the end of the year, so I wouldn’t have to leave him on his own all day. I thought maybe I could rent a nice little place with a bit of yard for Eddie to run around in. That’d cost a bit, but if I do extra shifts at the hotel I’ll be making good money.’

  It sounded a precarious plan to Amy. She could not believe that this hotel job would provide Milly with the sort of nest egg she seemed to be dreaming of, no matter how carefully she saved. Amy’s conscience prodded at her, telling her she should offer Milly a home on the farm, but the voice of logic easily silenced it. Given David’s and Milly’s reactions to each other, neither of them would welcome the idea.

  Eddie, however, was another matter. ‘I’d love to have Eddie here. He can stay with us for as long as you need.’

  She saw Milly’s shoulders slump with relief, while Eddie frowned, clearly aware he was being discussed but unable to fathom the details. Amy leaned forward so her face was closer to his level. ‘Eddie, you’re going to stay with Granny for a little while,’ she said. ‘Just while Mama’s busy with her new job. That’ll be nice, won’t it?’

  Eddie looked dubious, while Milly gripped him more tightly. ‘You’ll like it with Granny,’ Milly said, her voice unconvincingly bright. ‘Lots of these fancy biscuits, eh? And lots of places for you to run around without getting in trouble. And Granny can tell you all about what your dad was like when he was a little boy.’

  Eddie considered the notion. ‘All right. Can I have another biscuit?’

  Now that the matter was settled, all vigour seemed to have drained from Milly. Her head drooped, and she responded to Amy’s offer of a second cup of tea with nothing more than a quick shake of her head. Amy studied her face, grey with weariness, in concern.

  ‘You’ll be staying the night with us, of course,’ said Amy. ‘And a bit longer, maybe?’

  ‘Two nights, if that suits,’ Milly said, rousing herself to speak with an obvious effort. ‘I’ve got a passage booked for the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘Why don’t you have a lie-down till dinnertime? You must be worn out after that long walk.’ Milly would also, Amy suspected, appreciate a little time away from prying eyes as she took in the fact that she would be leaving Eddie behind when she left Ruatane.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind,’ Milly said. ‘And Eddie usually has a sleep in the afternoon.’

  Amy rose from her chair. ‘I’ll show you where you’ll sleep. We’ve only got the one spare room, I hope you don’t mind sharing with Eddie.’

  Milly blinked in surprise. ‘Of course not. I’ve always shared with him, right from when he was a baby.’ She slid Eddie from her lap, stood and picked up her bundle, and followed Amy from the kitchen, leading Eddie by the hand. ‘He’ll have to get used to sleeping on his own,’ she said in a low voice. ‘It might be a bit hard for him.’ And at least as hard for Milly, Amy thought to herself.

  ‘Here you are,’ Amy said as she ushered them into the small room that had been made by walling in the verandah of the cottage. ‘This was Mal’s and Dave’s room.’

  ‘You hear that, Eddie?’ Milly said, brightening visibly. ‘You’re going to have your dad’s old room.’

  Amy left them looking around, a good deal more impressed than the cramped space warranted, while she collected clean bedding. On her way back through the parlour, the photograph on the mantel caught her eye. She placed it on top of the pile of sheets and pillowcases she was carrying.

  ‘I thought you might like to have this in here,’ she said, setting the photograph on top of the small chest of drawers. ‘Mal must have been near enough to Eddie’s age when this was taken.’

  Milly had opened the bundle, and was pulling out the clothes it contained. She abandoned the task at once and snatched up the photograph. ‘Look, Eddie, it’s your dad,’ she said, holding the picture out for Eddie’s inspection. ‘See, he looked just like you.’

  ‘And here’s the cup he won.’ Amy picked up the small silver trophy. ‘That was for being the best rider.’

  Eddie seemed more impressed by the trophy than by the photograph. He held out his hands for it, then turned it round and round, examining it from all angles. He refused to let go while Milly was undressing him ready for bed, passing it from one hand to the other as she pulled a nightshirt over his head.

  Amy made up the bed, then fetched a jug of water. When she came back into the room, Milly had taken off her dress and was standing in her petticoats and chemise, studying the photograph again. ‘Just in case you want to have a wash,’ Amy said, lifting the jug onto the chest of drawers.

  Eddie was in the bed now, lying close to the wall, and to Amy’s amusement he was still clutching the trophy. ‘That’s a lumpy thing to try and sleep with, Eddie! It might dig into you.’

  ‘I don’t care.’ Eddie wrapped his arms more firmly around the cup.

  ‘He’s like that,’ Milly said, taking her eyes off the photograph for a moment. ‘When he gets an idea in his head, he’s that set on it. I usually let him have his own way.’

  Amy studied the little face on the pillow, his bright hair sticking out at unruly angles, and the sense of slipping back seventeen years left her lightheaded. She hesitated for a moment, then bent over Eddie and planted a soft kiss on his forehead. She stood up, expecting to be met with a scowl, but instead Eddie gave her a smile of such sweetness that it lit his whole face, and made Amy’s heart leap.

  ‘What a lovely boy,’ she said, turning to Milly. ‘Thank you for bringing him to me.’

  Milly looked startled, then gave a cautious smile. It softened the pinched, anxious lines of her face, and made her look much younger. ‘Mal never really talked about you. He went on about his old man, and he talked about his brother sometimes. He quite liked his brother,’ she added grudgingly. ‘I remember one time I asked him if he had a ma at all, with him never saying anything about you.’

  Amy could not think how to respond, so she said nothing. Milly seemed to be working herself up to say more; at last she spoke again.

  ‘He should have told me. Mal should’ve said what you were like. Then I wouldn’t have been so worried about whether you’d want Eddie. I’d have known you would.’

  Amy felt it was the greatest compliment Milly could have paid her. ‘Thank you,’ she said, then slipped from the room, leaving Milly to her rest.

  26

  Milly and David had not got off to a good start, and relations remained strained for the remainder of her stay. But on the morning after Milly and Eddie’s arrival, David lifted Eddie onto the back of one of the farm’s horses, led him around a paddock, and found he had become a hero.

  Lizzie came to see them that same morning. David had told Frank of their unexpected visitors when they had met at the factory, and when Frank passed on the news to Lizzie she had lost no time in coming to confront what she was sure was a sly creature who intended to take advantage of Amy’s soft heart by foisting an unwanted child, fathered by some man who had refused to take responsibility, upon her. Lizzie entered Amy’s kitchen in a whirl of indignation, took one look at Eddie and stopped in her tracks.

  ‘It’s uncanny, that’s what it is,’ she said when she had recovered the power of speech. ‘I’ve never seen a boy so much like his father.’ She turned to Amy. ‘You’re going to have your work cut out.’

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Milly said, indignant at the implied slight to Eddie.

  Lizzie regarded her coolly. ‘Mal was a handful
. I expect this one will be, too.’ It was a relief to Amy that Lizzie’s visit was a brief one.

  David and Beth had both calmly accepted the news that Eddie would be staying on, and made valiant attempts to hide their satisfaction that Milly would not be. David kept out of Milly’s way as much as he could, but there was no avoiding the need for him to take her into town when it was time for her to leave. Amy decided to go in with them, though it made for a crush on the single seat of the gig, with three adults and one sturdy child.

  Milly had wavered over whether or not she wanted Eddie to see her off, concerned that she might upset him; on the day of her departure she allowed Amy to persuade her to let him come along. Amy was sure Milly would regret depriving herself of that precious last hour with Eddie before she had to sail away.

  Milly was keeping up a brave face, but when they got to the wharf and found that the boat would be sailing a little late because of a delay in loading the cargo Amy saw her composure slip. It was as if Milly had screwed up her courage to get through the exact number of minutes she had expected to have to wait on the wharf, saying goodbye to Eddie and coping with his questions; faced with another hour of this, her mouth drooped and her hands began to tremble.

  Amy suggested they walk up and down the main street, while David took himself off to the general store. As they passed the photographer’s studio a sudden inspiration struck her, and she darted into the shop to ask if the photographer was busy. She found the young man in question on the premises and with time on his hands.

  Amy ushered Milly and Eddie into the studio, helped Milly to brush the dust of the road from her clothes and Eddie’s, and to place her hat at a more respectable angle, then watched as they were photographed together, Eddie perched on his mother’s lap.

  Having their pictures taken used a large part of the time they had to wait for the boat to sail. ‘I’ll get him to make two copies of the nicest one,’ Amy said to Milly as they walked back towards the wharf. ‘I’ll send you one as soon as it’s ready, and Eddie can have the other one in his room.’