A Second Chance

by Shayne Parkinson

  ‘I’ll make sure you have an up-to-date address for me.’

  ‘I’ve got the address—I used it to write to Milly.’

  Sid shook his head. ‘I won’t keep the house on. There’s no point, just for myself. When the rent’s up on it, I’ll go back into a boarding house.’

  Back into the grey, plodding routine he must have had before Milly erupted into his life. Back to a world of dusty offices all day and a drab room to return to at night. Years stretching out ahead of him until those few months when he had been a husband and about to become a father would seem like a foolish daydream. Amy’s heart ached for the man. But it ached more sharply for the little boy who had become an orphan.

  ‘Shall I go and get Eddie?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes, if you wouldn’t mind. It’s probably time I was on my way.’

  He followed Amy outside, clutching the satchel that flopped loosely now that it held nothing but a photograph. Amy shielded her eyes to look in the direction Eddie had set off, and saw him coming up the hill, swaying somewhat under his load.

  ‘He’s got Daisy with him,’ she said, smiling at the sight. ‘She’s my other son’s little girl—Eddie’s cousin.’

  ‘A little girl,’ Sid echoed. ‘Milly’s baby was a girl, too.’ He fidgeted with his satchel. Amy could see that he would rather have taken himself off before the children arrived. But he stood his ground, and watched as Eddie struggled up the slope to them.

  Amy relieved Eddie of his wriggling burden as soon as he was close. She slipped an arm around his shoulders and led him over to where Sid Carter waited. ‘This is Eddie,’ she said. ‘Eddie, this is Mr Carter.’

  ‘’lo,’ said Eddie. He thrust out his hand, and Sid Carter shook it solemnly. He crouched down to Eddie’s height, placing his hands on his thighs to steady himself.

  ‘How are you, Eddie?’ he asked.

  ‘Good,’ said Eddie.

  ‘And do you like school?’ It was almost painful to watch Sid’s stilted attempt at conversing with a small boy.

  ‘I don’t go to school. I do lessons with Granny. I can read, and I can write things, and I can do sums.’

  ‘You teach him at home?’ Sid asked, looking up at Amy.

  Amy gave Eddie’s shoulders a squeeze. ‘I enjoy it. He’s doing very well, too.’

  Sid stood up and patted Eddie on the head in an awkward gesture. ‘You be a good boy for your grandmother, then.’

  ‘I am!’ Eddie said indignantly.

  ‘Shh, Eddie. Yes, he’s a good boy. I’m lucky to have him.’

  Sid studied Eddie’s face; Amy guessed that he was trying without success to find some trace of Milly there. He turned to Amy and nodded. ‘He’s a fine boy. Thank you for letting me meet him.’

  Eddie held the horse’s bridle while Sid mounted. He went back to stand beside Amy as Mr Carter rode off. ‘Bye, Mister!’ Eddie called after him.

  Sid turned in the saddle and waved, then Amy watched him dwindle. Milly’s husband. The man who had given her a home; who would have welcomed Eddie for her sake. Milly’s best chance of a settled, comfortable life, and one she had clearly taken hold of with both hands. Milly, who had lost family and lover and child, and had had life snatched from her just when it had seemed on the verge of making good some of those losses. Wednesday’s child, full of woe. Made for sorrow. No wonder she and Malcolm had found each other.

  Amy balanced Daisy on one hip, and with her free arm drew Eddie close. Milly’s child. Mal’s child. And now Amy’s own child. ‘Come and sit on the verandah with me,’ she said. ‘We’ll have a little talk.’

  Amy set Daisy down on the verandah, and sat on the steps with Eddie at her side. Daisy pulled herself upright against a post, then cautiously moved from one post to the next, clinging to the verandah railings for support. It was a task that took all her concentration, and left Amy free to give Eddie her attention.

  ‘Climb on my lap.’ She spread her arms in invitation, and Eddie clambered on readily. She smoothed down the hair at the back of his head that insisted on sticking out in all directions; a pointless exercise, as the hair immediately returned to its previous angle, but one Amy found soothing. She kissed one particularly unruly tuft.

  ‘Do you remember I told you how Mama was very tired, and she wasn’t feeling well?’ she began. Eddie nodded, his eyes fixed on hers.

  ‘She got really sick, Eddie. That’s what Mr Carter—the man who was just here—that’s what he came to tell me about. He’s been very kind to Mama, looking after her. But she got worse and worse, and then she… she passed away.’ Those pale blue eyes stared at her uncomprehendingly; “passed away” meant nothing to him. ‘She died, Eddie. Mama died.’

  He looked more thoughtful than upset. His face took on the same expression it did when she set him a particularly difficult piece of arithmetic. ‘Isn’t she coming back?’

  ‘No, she’s not. I’m sorry, Eddie.’

  He still looked as if he were working through a puzzle. ‘Has she gone to Heaven?’

  ‘Yes,’ Amy said, snatching gratefully at the suggestion. ‘Yes, Mama’s in Heaven now. So she won’t feel sick any more, or sad, or anything like that.’

  Eddie tilted his head to one side, still thoughtful. ‘Is she with my dad now?’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Amy said, rather more certain of this than of her previous answer. ‘Yes, I’m sure they’re together.’

  ‘Do they have horses in Heaven?’

  Amy laughed softly. ‘Do you know, I’ve never thought about that. Perhaps they do, for the people who really want them.’

  Eddie nodded solemnly. ‘They do have horses,’ he pronounced. He put a hand on Amy’s arm. ‘Are you going to die, Granny?’

  ‘One day, yes. But not for a long time, I hope. Not till you’re grown up, anyway.’ She closed her arms around him more tightly. ‘I’m not going away, Eddie. I’ll look after you.’

  30

  Amy sat in the April sunlight, Daisy warm and drowsy on her lap, and watched Eddie riding back and forth. He had cajoled her into letting him set up jumps, though Amy had insisted they be so low that the horse barely had to stretch its stride. But Eddie seemed to find it exciting enough. He gave a whoop of delight at every jump, usually followed by a cry of, ‘Did you see me, Granny?’

  Between assuring him that she had indeed seen, and that it was very good, Amy stole glances at the latest letter from Sarah, spread out beside her on the old log she was using as a seat. It was close to two years now since she had last seen Sarah, and Amy had no idea how much longer it might yet be before they were reunited.

  But for the moment she took pleasure in the soft, milky-smelling baby on her lap, and the laughing little boy riding round and round the paddock. Sparks of orange flame flashed from Eddie as the sunlight struck his hair, while Daisy’s growing curls peeped from around her bonnet in an echo of darker red.

  The sound of hooves smacking against dried earth, quite different from the soft thud of Eddie’s unshod mount in the grassy paddock, caught Amy’s attention; she looked up and smiled to see Frank approaching. She tucked the letter away and called him over.

  He knotted the bridle and left the horse free to graze along the side of the track. ‘I was just on my way up to see Bill,’ he said as he sank onto the smooth log beside Amy. ‘I thought I’d drop in and see my girls.’

  ‘Beth’s gone off for a walk with Dave. I’d go and look for them, except… well, I think they might have gone for a swim.’ Amy felt a blush creeping over her face. ‘The weather won’t be warm enough much longer.’

  Frank grinned. ‘Good for them. That’s all right, I’ve only got a minute. I’ll make do with seeing this little one.’

  Daisy had woken up properly at her grandfather’s approach. She held out her arms, demanding to be picked up by him. Amy passed her across to Frank, who jiggled her on his lap with well-practised ease. ‘Gan-gan-gan,’ Daisy crowed, an all-purpose word she was currently using for all three of her grandparents.

&nb
sp; ‘She was asleep when Beth and Dave went off, but they hadn’t been gone two minutes before she woke up,’ Amy said. ‘I know I should leave her to go back to sleep on her own, but…’ She smiled and shrugged.

  Frank nodded knowingly as Daisy nestled against him, gurgling away to herself. ‘You hardly want to miss a minute of them when they’re this age, eh? It goes by quick enough.’

  ‘Yes, it does.’

  Frank declined her offer of a cup of tea, though he seemed in no particular hurry to leave. They sat together watching Eddie and playing with Daisy, who was delighted at the attention. They talked idly, about the weather and the children and the small happenings of the valley, and then they let conversation lapse, easy enough in each other’s company to be as comfortable with silence as with speech.

  The buttons on one of Eddie’s sleeves had come undone, Amy noticed, and he seemed in danger of getting the loose sleeve tangled in the reins. ‘Come here a minute, Eddie,’ she called. ‘Come and say hello to Uncle Frank.’

  Eddie wheeled the horse skillfully, slid from its back and clambered over the fence to run the short distance. ‘Hello, Uncle Frank,’ he said, wriggling with barely suppressed energy as Amy held his arm to straighten his sleeve and fasten the buttons. ‘Did you see me jumping?’

  ‘I sure did. That’s pretty good, Eddie.’

  Amy patted the cuff flat and released Eddie’s arm. ‘There, that’s better.’

  ‘Can I do some more riding now?’ Eddie asked, poised to run off.

  ‘All right, just for a bit. Give Granny a kiss first.’

  Eddie complied readily, giving her a wet kiss on the lips. He kissed Daisy, too, for good measure, then scampered back to the paddock. He mounted the horse from the top rail of the fence, and was soon off again.

  ‘He’s the image of Mal, eh?’ Frank said, following her gaze.

  ‘Yes, he is.’ Amy touched her fingers against her mouth, where Eddie’s had so recently been pressed. ‘Mal would never have done that, though,’ she murmured.

  ‘He’s a good kid.’

  ‘Yes, and I’m very lucky to have him. He’s…’ She smiled at Frank. ‘Lizzie thinks I’m silly when I say this, but it’s as if Eddie’s my second chance with Mal. I can make a better job of it this time.’

  ‘I don’t see that you did anything wrong last time. You’ve no need to blame yourself over what happened to Mal.’

  Amy did not bother to argue. She had done the best she could for Malcolm, and her warm heart had conspired with her strong sense of duty to induce a fervent love for her wayward son. But duty had always upheld the larger part of that love. It was not like that with Eddie. Loving Eddie took no effort of will.

  ‘I’ve been given a second chance with all of them, really,’ she mused. ‘Davie coming back after being away all that time. Sarah finding me.’ A warm glow crept through her at the wondrous memory. ‘And now getting Eddie. I’m so very lucky. It’s just that I never thought I’d have to choose between them.’ Amy came to herself and felt a rush of embarrassment; Frank’s easy company had made her speak more freely than she had intended.

  Frank looked up from watching Daisy clutch at his finger. ‘What do you mean, choose between them?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not like that, really. But Sarah wants me to go back to Auckland—and I’d been all set to last year, once Beth was well enough to manage. But I can’t now. Not with Eddie to look after.’

  ‘You could leave him with Beth and Dave, though. They’d do all right.’

  Amy shook her head. ‘No, I couldn’t. They’re a bit young to look after a boy Eddie’s age. Well, Dave is,’ she amended. ‘Anyway, I couldn’t leave Eddie, not with him losing his mother. I promised I’d look after him. It wouldn’t be right to dump him on Beth and Dave, and have him think I didn’t want him.’

  ‘Mm,’ Frank said, a noncommittal sound that might have conveyed agreement or simply a disinclination to argue. ‘Ah, well, Sarah will understand, I’m sure.’

  ‘I haven’t exactly told her,’ Amy confessed. ‘About promising Eddie I wouldn’t leave him, I mean. I’d hate him to think he was a… well, a burden. He’s not, really he isn’t.’

  Frank nodded thoughtfully. ‘You know what Lizzie would say about that?’

  Amy smiled. She could almost hear Lizzie’s voice. ‘She’d say Sarah wouldn’t tell Eddie anything of the sort, and I’m not about to, so where’s the sense worrying about it? I should just get on and explain it all to Sarah.’

  ‘Yes, that’s about it.’

  They sat in silence for several moments before Frank spoke again.

  ‘The thing about Lizzie,’ he said, ‘is that she’s usually right.’

  *

  Nothing could be simpler, Sarah declared in response to Amy’s next letter. Of course Amy could not leave Eddie, and there was no reason in the world for her to do so. She must bring him to Auckland with her.

  The thought of Eddie, bursting with all the energy of a healthy five-year-old boy, set loose in Sarah’s calm, well-ordered household made Amy wonder if it would be quite such a simple matter as Sarah supposed. But with that small concern set aside, the idea was beguiling.

  She wrote back at once, thanking Sarah warmly. She would bring Eddie for a visit, she told Sarah, and they would see how they all got on. That was as much as Amy was willing to let Sarah commit herself to.

  That evening, she tucked Eddie in then sat on the edge of his bed. ‘Eddie, you’re going to Auckland with me soon,’ she told him. ‘Next month, it’ll be. We’re going up to stay with your Aunt Sarah. You can take your nice book and show her how well you can read it.’

  Eddie considered the matter. ‘Can Daisy come, too?’

  Amy shook her head. ‘No, Daisy’s too little to go on a big trip like that. Just you and me. We might take Daisy another time, when she’s bigger.’

  The answer seemed to satisfy Eddie. ‘Has Aunt Sarah got a horse?’

  ‘Yes, she has—she’s got a sort of buggy, and she has horses to pull that. I don’t know if you could ride them, though,’ Amy added, careful to be honest with the little boy. ‘Perhaps you could. We’d have to ask. But Aunt Sarah’s got a lovely big house, and a nice garden with trees to climb, and you might even be able to go out on a sailing boat.’

  ‘And we could come back here if we got bored?’

  ‘No, not straight away. We’ll be staying there a little while. And I know you’ll be a good boy for me at Aunt Sarah’s, and not go making a fuss if you don’t like things. But yes, we’ll come back here if you really don’t like it in Auckland after you’ve given it a proper try.’ She leaned down to kiss him goodnight, and wondered to herself if Eddie had inherited her own tendency to seasickness.

  *

  There was no risk that Amy might find herself dwelling on painful memories during this voyage. She was far too busy seeing that Eddie did not slip overboard, trip up any unsteady passengers, or just get something dropped on him as he darted around the boat, utterly sure-footed and blessedly untouched by nausea.

  It was a relief when the boat drew up to the wharf at Auckland, though with the increased activity on deck Amy had to keep a close grip on Eddie. She held grimly to his hand as a human tide carried them along towards the gangplank, and trusted that Sarah would manage to see them through the crowd.

  Sarah was there and waiting. She swept up to them, slipped her arm through Amy’s, sent the coachman off to collect their luggage, and guided them to one side of the crowd, all within moments.

  ‘Sarah, this is Eddie,’ Amy said as soon as they were safely out of the crush.

  Sarah moved to stand in front of Eddie, and lowered herself to his level in a graceful motion.

  ‘Hello, Eddie. I’m your Aunt Sarah. I’m very pleased to meet you.’ She extended a hand, and Eddie shook it. Amy watched the two of them sizing each other up. There was not the slightest physical resemblance, but something of the same keen observation showed in each pair of eyes.

  ‘Granny said you�
��ve got a horse,’ said Eddie.

  Sarah laughed. ‘As it happens, I do. Come and meet the carriage horses.’

  She gave Eddie only a few moments to pat the horses before bundling him and Amy into the carriage and taking her own seat at Amy’s side. Eddie knelt on the seat to look out at the bustling city. He had been briefly awed by the noise and crowds on the wharf, but now he stared with interest from the safety of the carriage at the tall buildings and the traffic, pedestrian and horse-drawn.

  The journey to Sarah’s seemed shorter this time. The carriage drew to a halt, and Eddie tumbled out without waiting to be helped down. When Amy took his hand she found that he was gazing up at the house, his mouth open.

  ‘Are we staying here?’ he asked in a smaller voice than usual.

  ‘Yes, we are,’ Amy said, giving his hand an encouraging squeeze. ‘This is Aunt Sarah’s house.’

  He let her lead him inside, his eyes wide as he stared at his surroundings. Both the maids that Amy remembered from her previous stay were there to greet them, bobbing curtseys from the side of the passage, then disappearing in the direction of the kitchen.

  ‘I’ll show you to your rooms,’ said Sarah. ‘I expect you’ll want to freshen up. The luggage will be brought up shortly.’

  They followed her up the stairs, Eddie still allowing his hand to be held. Stairs were a novelty to him; he had never tried anything closer to them than the few steps up to the verandah on the farm. Amy saw him casting a speculative look at the banister rail; she tugged at his hand to get his attention, and shook her head firmly.

  ‘You’re in your old room, of course, Amy,’ Sarah said. ‘I’ve given Eddie the one next to yours. It’s small—I believe it may have been intended as a dressing room—but I think it’ll do for now.’

  The room was somewhat larger than Eddie’s bedroom on the farm, but small enough to be cosy. There was a bed with a yellow coverlet against one wall, a set of drawers against the opposite wall, and a wooden chest near the foot of the bed. A connecting door led through to Amy’s room, which was just as she remembered it. Fresh flowers had been placed on the dressing table, hot water was ready in the jug, and clean towels had been laid out. And when Sarah opened the wardrobe door, Amy’s lovely dresses were all hanging there, just as she had left them.