Mud and Gold Read online

  ‘Lizzie,’ he said when their only audience was the oblivious Joey, ‘don’t do that again. I mean it.’

  ‘Don’t do what?’ Lizzie said indignantly.

  ‘You know what I mean. Don’t force me to let you do something I don’t want to. I only took you to Amy’s because you threatened to go rushing up there by yourself.’

  ‘Don’t be so bossy! Anyway, I’m not sick like you keep making out. I’m only having a baby, for goodness sake!’

  ‘Yes, well, you shouldn’t really be having this baby, you know. It’s only because I couldn’t keep my hands off you.’ Frank abandoned sternness and slipped an arm around Lizzie’s shoulders. ‘I worry about you, Lizzie.’

  Lizzie relaxed against his arm. ‘I didn’t exactly try and fight you off, did I? Don’t worry about me. There’s no need, honestly there’s not.’

  ‘Well, will you behave yourself? Take things a bit easy, no more going visiting till the baby’s come?’

  Lizzie sighed. ‘I didn’t do her any good going to see her, anyway. I can’t give her back her baby, and that’s the only thing that would really help. She needs something to love. I might as well have stayed home.’

  Frank took this as acquiescence, and was satisfied Lizzie had seen sense. So he was all the more astonished two days later when she announced that she wanted to visit Amy once again.

  ‘Lizzie, I thought we agreed,’ Frank said helplessly. ‘You said you’d take things easy.’

  ‘No, I didn’t. You said I would. Shut up a minute and listen. I know I shouldn’t be going out, but this is important. I promise if you take me up there once more—just this once—I’ll stay home and not complain until the baby’s born. Cross my heart I will. Please, Frank,’ she begged, taking hold of his hands and looking at him with a pleading expression Frank had no weapon against, especially when he saw tears forming in her eyes.

  He sighed. ‘If I don’t say yes I suppose you’ll only threaten to go by yourself again. You’d better mean it, though, Lizzie. No more tricks like this.’

  ‘Of course not. I’ve promised, haven’t I?’

  ‘Yes. And I’ll keep you to it.’

  When he helped Lizzie into the buggy, Frank was startled to see that she held a small ginger kitten in one hand. ‘That’s one of Tab’s latest litter, isn’t it? What are you doing with it?’

  ‘He’s a present. Hurry up, I want to be back in time to get lunch on.’

  Charlie was filling a jug of water from the rain barrel when they pulled up. ‘I’m just going to pop in and see Amy for a minute, Charlie,’ Lizzie said. ‘We won’t stay for a cup of tea, thanks—I see you’re just getting water for one,’ she added impertinently.

  ‘Those women from next door don’t seem to bother fetching the water,’ Charlie grumbled. ‘What have you got there?’ he asked, eyeing the kitten suspiciously.

  ‘This? It’s a kitten,’ Lizzie said, all wide-eyed innocence. ‘I meant to get Frank to tell you—when I was up the other day I saw a couple of mice hanging around your safe.’ It was the first Frank had heard of it; and, he suspected, the first the mice had heard of it. ‘You want to watch that, Charlie, mice can gnaw right through a safe quick as look at it.’

  ‘Mice?’ Charlie echoed in alarm. ‘I hadn’t noticed any.’

  ‘Oh, you would have noticed them soon enough. So I thought I’d better bring you a cat. We’ve got plenty. Don’t let me keep you talking, I’m sure you’re busy,’ she said, sweeping past Charlie and into the house.

  *

  There were dark rings under Amy’s eyes that betrayed sleepless nights, and she looked at Lizzie with a strange, faraway expression. Recognition took several seconds to reach her eyes.

  ‘I didn’t expect to see you again so soon, Lizzie,’ she said wearily. ‘I hope you’re not going to try and talk about my babies again. I don’t talk about them. I don’t make a fuss.’

  ‘I’m not going to talk about anything,’ Lizzie said briskly. ‘I’m not even staying.’ She walked to the bed and kissed Amy’s cheek. ‘Our Tab’s had seven kittens, she can’t feed them all properly. You’ll be doing me a favour if you take one, it’ll save Frank drowning it. Here you are.’ She placed the kitten on the blanket over Amy’s chest. ‘I’ll be off, then.’ With that, Lizzie was gone as suddenly as she had arrived.

  Amy looked down at the tiny kitten. It mewed feebly, with a sound that Amy fought against recognising. It was far too much like the cry of a tiny baby. She reached out to push the kitten away from her, but her fingers brushed against fur as soft as baby’s hair.

  Almost against her will, her hand stroked the kitten. Its mewing stopped, and the kitten made its laborious way up the blanket towards Amy’s face, hooking its claws into the cloth to steady itself as it went. It reached its goal and pressed its nose against Amy’s cheek, giving a questioning little miaow. Amy stroked it again and again, feeling the vibration of the purr that was too soft for her ears to catch. A tiny pink tongue reached out and tickled her face as the kitten licked at the salt tears that had begun to trickle down Amy’s cheeks.

  18

  August – December 1889

  Before she returned home, Mrs Coulson impressed on Amy that she should stay in bed for at least two weeks. But it was less than a week after Alexander’s birth and death when Amy announced to Charlie that she was well enough to get up.

  ‘So you’ll be able to bring the boys home, Charlie. Could you fetch them today, please?’ she asked, ignoring the grinding discomfort she still felt when she moved about. ‘I don’t want Susannah looking after them. She doesn’t like children.’

  Charlie took her assertion of good health at face value, and did not need persuading to want his sons back. He collected the boys that same morning. Amy studied them anxiously, but neither child seemed much the worse for their time away from home. David spent the first few days not wanting to let Amy out of his sight, and he climbed onto her lap whenever she sat down for long enough to give him the chance; but he was soon reassured that his mother was not going to become ill again suddenly, nor was he to be sent away next door for some mysterious reason.

  David was enraptured at the sight of Amy’s kitten sitting on her lap when Charlie brought the boys home.

  ‘Pussy cat!’ he said in delight. ‘My pussy cat?’

  ‘No, Davie,’ Amy said with a smile, ruffling David’s curls as she held a possessive hand over the tiny kitten. ‘He’s my pussy cat. But I’ll share him with you. His name’s Ginger. Look, I’ll show you how to stroke him—you have to be very gentle, because he’s so little.’ She took hold of David’s hand and guided it down Ginger’s back, but David did not need to be taught. He touched the kitten with a gentleness that seemed instinctive, and Ginger learned to purr at the sight of David as quickly as he learned to hide under Amy’s skirts and out of the reach of anyone’s boot if he happened to be in the kitchen when Charlie’s heavy tread sounded on the doorstep or Malcolm bounded into the room.

  *

  Frank kept an anxious watch over Lizzie as her pregnancy advanced, alternating between looking forward to the new baby’s arrival and feeling guilty that there was to be another child so soon. Lizzie seemed healthy enough, but it distressed him to see her working as hard as ever while she got bigger and more awkward.

  ‘Do you have to do that, Lizzie?’ he asked when he found her scrubbing the kitchen floor one day in her seventh month.

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Lizzie said firmly. ‘I won’t be able to do it at all when I get a bit bigger, but I’m going to make sure it’s clean as long as I can manage. I’m not having dirty floors in my house, thank you.’

  ‘Well, maybe I could—’

  ‘No, you couldn’t,’ Lizzie interrupted. ‘You’ve never scrubbed a floor in your life, there’s no need for you to start learning now. Anyway, it’s my job. I don’t go out ploughing paddocks, do I?’

  ‘No, but I’m not having a baby, am I?’

  ‘Anyone would think you were, you’re making such a f
uss about this one. It’s my third baby, Frank, I should know what I’m doing by now.’

  ‘You know what you’re doing, all right. I just wish… oh, I don’t know. I wish I could make things easier for you, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m not complaining, am I? Stop talking rubbish, Frank. And don’t you dare walk on the wet part,’ she warned as she returned to her scrubbing with renewed vigour.

  *

  Frank did not stop worrying over Lizzie’s health until November came at last and with it the arrival of their second daughter. The birth was as uneventful as either of the baby girl’s parents could have wished, and for the first time in months Frank could forget his feeling of guilt and indulge in the delight of being a father once again.

  ‘What are you going to call her?’ Amy asked when she had admired the tiny girl with her fuzz of brown hair.

  ‘Oh, I’ve had a lot of trouble with Frank over that,’ Lizzie said, smiling fondly at her new daughter. ‘We thought… well, I know this sounds a bit soft, but I wasn’t really meant to have another baby just yet, so she’s sort of a special present for us. So we want her to have both our names.’

  ‘Where’s the trouble, then?’ Amy said. ‘You knew what to call her straight away.’

  ‘Well, yes, but I wanted Frances Elizabeth, and Frank wanted Elizabeth Frances.’

  ‘I see.’ Amy smiled knowingly at her cousin. ‘She must be Frances Elizabeth, then, if that’s what you want.’

  She was surprised when Lizzie hesitated in answering. ‘Oh, Frank can be silly about things like that. He gets really soft sometimes. So I thought if it means that much to him, and it doesn’t really matter… well, she’s Elizabeth Frances.’

  Amy laughed aloud. ‘You mean you let Frank win? That must have given him a shock. And two Lizzies in the one house? Two in the one valley will be a bit much!’

  ‘She won’t be Lizzie, that’s too confusing. She’ll be Beth. And less of your cheek, Mrs Stewart. Anyway, I think Beth’s going to be more like Frank. She looks like him, don’t you think? Her mouth’s just the same as Frank’s.’

  Amy had never considered Frank’s mouth to be at all like the sweet little cupid’s bow Beth had, but she humoured Lizzie. ‘Yes, she’ll probably be just like Frank. I don’t think she’ll have much hope of bossing anyone around, not with you and Maudie in the house. Maudie even starts telling Davie what to do as soon as she sees him.’

  ‘He lets her get away with it. Joey doesn’t take the least bit of notice, so that’s good for her.’

  ‘Mmm, it’ll teach her to be clever about it, like you are.’

  Lizzie pulled a face at Amy but did not bother arguing. ‘What have you done with your boys?’

  ‘Frank took Davie as soon as he saw us coming up the road. He’s got the three of them out in the paddock with him—Maudie, Davie and Joey all on the one horse! I don’t think the horse has really noticed, he’s still pulling away at the plough as if there was no one on his back. Davie’s smiling all over his face at having a ride on the big horse. Frank’s wonderful with children, isn’t he?’

  ‘Mmm. That’s because he’s just a big kid himself. But you’re right, he is good with them. I suppose Charlie’s got Mal.’

  ‘Yes, he said he’d take him into town today.’ Amy sighed. ‘Mal always gets excited when Charlie says he can come. He gets in a real grump if he has to stay home with Davie and me—oh, he can be a menace sometimes. Last week Charlie wouldn’t take any of us in with him, it was one of those days when he wants to go out by himself. Mal really played up for me. He kicked over the bucket of dirty water when I’d just finished scrubbing, and he knocked a whole tray of biscuits onto the floor because I told him he’d have to wait until Charlie came home before he could have any. Then when I gave him a smack he bit my hand—hard, too.’

  ‘He’s a real little brat,’ Lizzie said, looking shocked.

  ‘No, he can’t help it. It’s boring for him when he’s stuck with me, and he just loves being with Charlie.’

  ‘Well, he’s out of your hair this morning, anyway. You don’t look that pleased about it,’ Lizzie commented, seeing Amy’s worried frown.

  ‘Oh, I’m pleased Charlie’s taken him. But sometimes Mal plays up when they go out… well, he usually does, really. He behaves better for Charlie than for me, but Charlie wants him to be perfect. He forgets Mal’s only a little boy still. You can’t expect a four-year-old to sit quietly and wait while Charlie’s busy at the store or down at the factory. Mal starts running around and knocks things over, or touches things he’s not meant to. Half the time he gets a hiding when they come home. He still wants to go out with Charlie the next time, though—it’s better to have a hiding than to be left with his boring old mother, I suppose. Charlie’s very hard on Mal.’

  ‘Sounds like he needs it,’ Lizzie said. ‘I bet Charlie gave him a good hiding for biting you.’

  ‘Well, no, he didn’t. I didn’t tell Charlie,’ Amy admitted. ‘Mal gets plenty of hidings without me telling on him.’ She did not divulge the fear she never quite voiced even to herself: that Malcolm would hate her if she did not do her best to keep him happy. The duty she owed Malcolm seemed much heavier than anything David claimed; loving David had been easy from the day he had been born.

  ‘You’ve got to be firm with children sometimes,’ Lizzie pronounced. ‘That’s the only trouble with Frank, he’s a bit soft. I bet he’s letting Maudie get away with murder while I’m stuck in bed. Mind you, Mrs Parsons doesn’t stand for any nonsense from Maudie and Joey, so she’s keeping them in line. Of course she’s a bit bossy, really. I had to tell her off for ordering Frank around, she’s been better since then. But she’s good with the children.’

  ‘I know it doesn’t do to be too soft. I wish Charlie didn’t expect so much of Mal, though. Mal can’t be perfect, any more than I can.’

  ‘Who says you’re not?’ Lizzie said indignantly. ‘Charlie’s got no reason to complain.’

  Amy shook her head. ‘I don’t think Charlie would agree with you, Lizzie. Never mind about me, let’s have another look at this pretty little girl. Can I have a hold of her?’

  *

  When she visited Lizzie and the newborn Beth, Amy did not know that she herself was already carrying another child. She had barely begun to wonder when her normal bleeding would return when the reason for its over-long absence became obvious; not from any of the signs of a normal pregnancy, but from the painful spasms and heavy, clotted bleeding of a miscarriage.

  She told no one of the miscarriage except Charlie; it was his child, and in Amy’s eyes he had the right to know of its brief existence and death. It was difficult for her to gauge Charlie’s response. She knew he must be disappointed at losing another child, but he showed no more sign of wanting to talk to her about it than he had after Alexander’s death. The only comment Charlie made was ‘There’ll be other bairns’; and once the bleeding from the miscarriage had ceased he set about seeing that there would indeed be others as soon as possible.

  Amy did not want to cloud Lizzie’s happiness with her own loss, and there was no one else to share her feelings with, her occasional hesitant requests to be allowed to visit the ‘interfering’ Mrs Coulson being curtly refused. Her ginger kitten seemed to sense her grief, and he was more than usually affectionate while she was mourning the loss of a child she had not even known she was bearing. Ginger’s endearing habit of licking away the tears Amy only let herself shed when she was alone made them flow all the more freely.

  *

  Frank was unsure whether to be relieved or concerned when Mrs Parsons finished her two weeks of looking after the household and went home. It was a relief to have the house to themselves again; he found Mrs Parsons rather daunting, even after Lizzie had somewhat cowed the nurse by laying down the law to her. But it troubled him to have Lizzie back in her round of cooking and cleaning, with three small children to look after now, especially when he saw how tired she was at the end of each day. She brushed aside Fr
ank’s concern, but it did not stop him wishing he could make her life easier.

  Lizzie stayed at home with Joey and the month-old Beth while Frank took Maudie into town with him one day for the weekly shopping expedition. Maudie was delighted at having her father to herself, and Frank was glad of his daughter’s company as she sat on his lap and prattled away. The trip into town went almost as quickly as when Lizzie was with him.

  When he had made his purchases, including the sweets that Maudie cajoled him into buying her, Frank loaded the supplies into the buggy then took Maudie by the hand and headed for the Post and Telegraph Station. They were just about to cross the road when Frank’s eye was caught by the tiny display window of Ruatane’s watchmaker and jeweller, old Mr Hatfield.

  It was some years since Frank had set foot in the shop; his last visit to the jeweller’s had been to buy Lizzie’s wedding ring more than five years previously. Today his attention was caught by a shaft of sunlight glinting on the contents of the window. In one small corner was a tray of rings, and close beside the rings lay a box with a lining of black velvet that set off to advantage the string of pearls it held. They glowed warmly in the sunlight. Their creamy colour made Frank think of Lizzie’s thick mane of hair that was slowly recovering its former length.

  ‘Papa?’ Maudie tugged at his arm. ‘Can I see, Papa?’

  Frank hoisted her up so she could press her nose to the window. ‘See the nice necklace, Maudie?’

  ‘Oh, it’s pretty,’ Maudie said, her breath misting the window as she gazed at the pearls. ‘Is that for Mama?’

  ‘Do you think Mama would like it?’ Frank asked. Maudie nodded vigorously, still staring wide-eyed at the window. ‘Yes, I bet she would. It’s probably too dear for me.’ He turned away from the window, still holding Maudie, but the pearls drew him back. He could almost see himself fastening them around Lizzie’s neck. ‘Let’s have a better look at them. It doesn’t cost anything to look, eh?’ Frank pushed open the door of Mr Hatfield’s shop, setting a bell jangling as he did and making the silver-haired proprietor look up from his high stool behind the counter.