Sentence of Marriage (28 page)

‘We’ll both go—it’s time for me to help Susannah with dinner, anyway.’

‘That’s not what I meant.’ Jimmy lifted his head and turned to face her. ‘I’d better go right away from here. I’ll go into town tomorrow and find out when the boat’s leaving next.’

‘No!’ Amy reached her hand out towards him, then let it drop awkwardly to her side. ‘Please don’t go,’ she begged. ‘I don’t want you to go away.’

‘I’ve got to. If I stay, I know something like that’s going to happen again—I can’t help myself.’ He looked at her with something like torment in his face. ‘I thought you were encouraging me. That’s still no excuse. Goodbye, Amy.’ He turned away and walked towards the house, leaving Amy with tears streaming down her cheeks.

‘Don’t go,’ she whispered, but he was already almost at the edge of the trees. Being touched in that way suddenly didn’t seem so terrible, not compared with losing him. ‘Jimmy,’ she sobbed, then she picked up her skirts and ran to him, catching hold of his sleeve. ‘Please don’t leave me. I couldn’t stand it if you left me.’

Jimmy turned to her and slowly enfolded her in his arms. ‘I thought you might hate me after what I just did.’

She shook her head emphatically. ‘I’ll never hate you, no matter what you do. Jimmy, I… I think I love you.’ She hid her face against his chest, but he cupped her chin in his hand and made her look up at him.

‘I think I love you, too.’ He lowered his face to hers and kissed her, at first gently then more urgently. The words echoed round and round in Amy’s head:
I love you. I love you
.

January 1884

Jack and Susannah were sitting on the verandah with Jimmy the next afternoon, and Amy had just brought out a tray with tea, when Harry returned from a visit to Bill bursting with news. ‘Hey, guess what? There was a fight at the Masonic Hotel last night, and someone got stabbed! Bill went in to town this morning and everyone’s talking about it.’

‘That’s terrible!’ Amy said. ‘Is he all right? Who was it?’

‘Some bloke from Tauranga. He got off the boat yesterday—there were a few of them, looking for work I think. They went drinking in the Masonic, then a row started.’

‘Don’t tell me,’ said Jack. ‘Feenans?’

Harry grinned. ‘You guessed it.’

‘Who are the Feenans?’ Jimmy asked.

‘A mad Irish lot—they live down by Orere Beach,’ Jack explained. ‘Whenever there’s trouble, you can be pretty sure the Feenans won’t be far away.’

‘Really, this is such a
rough
place,’ Susannah said, pursing her lips, but the others ignored her.

‘What about the man who got stabbed?’ Amy persisted. ‘Is he all right?’

‘Bill said they got the doctor to him—he was pretty bad, but people were saying he’d most likely get over it.’ Harry looked a little disappointed, but then he brightened. ‘There’s a bunch of them in the lock-up now—the other ones from Tauranga and a few Feenans. They’ll all be up before Leveston next week. If that fellow dies, Gerry Feenan’ll hang! He’s the one that had the knife.’

‘Oh,’ Susannah said, slumping back in her chair. ‘Oh, I don’t feel very well.’

‘Course, they all probably had knives, but Gerry Feenan’s one had blood on it,’ Harry went on with relish. Susannah gave a groan.

‘That’s enough about it,’ said Jack. ‘You’re upsetting Susannah. Haven’t you got any work to do, boy?’

‘Oh, all right,’ Harry grumbled, casting a dark look at Susannah. ‘I’ll go and give John a hand getting the cows in.’

‘I’ll come with you—I’ve spent enough time sitting around doing nothing,’ Jimmy said. ‘I can’t let you do all the work, Harry.’ He and Harry strolled off together out of sight around the corner of the house.

‘Well, at least that’ll be a few less Feenans around for a while,’ Jack said. ‘Ruatane should be a bit quieter.’

‘I think there’s still plenty more of them, Pa,’ said Amy. ‘There seem to be so many Feenans.’

‘That’s true enough,’ Jack said.

Amy looked at Susannah, trying to gauge her mood. She seemed calm, and Jimmy had spent most of the afternoon with her, so she was probably in as good a mood as Amy was ever likely to find her. ‘Susa—Ma,’ Amy corrected herself, aware of Jack’s watchful presence, ‘the hay dance is next month—it’s only about four weeks away now.’

‘I know,’ said Susannah. ‘It seems to be the only dance you ever have around here, and I can’t go to it.’ She looked resentfully at Jack, but he smiled back at her.

‘Now, Susannah, we talked about that. No one takes babies to the dance.’

‘Why can’t
she
look after the boys for me?’ Susannah waved her hand towards Amy.

Amy felt a stab of alarm. ‘Pa, you did say I could go this year.’ She winced under the look Susannah turned on her. ‘But I’ll stay home and look after the babies if you say I have to.’ She saw her longed-for outing with Jimmy evaporate as she spoke.

‘Yes, I said you could go—and I meant it, too. Susannah, it’s the girl’s first dance—you don’t want to take that off her, do you? Anyway,’ he went on, not giving Susannah time to answer, ‘the dance is for the young ones, really—us old folk should stay home and let them get on with having a good time.’ He laughed at his own humour, but Susannah looked less than amused.

‘I’m only twenty-seven.
I
don’t think that’s old.’

Jack smiled at her. ‘No, of course you’re not. You’re still a young thing—you’ll keep me young, too, you and the little fellows. But you couldn’t leave Georgie all that time—what if he needed a feed?’

‘I’m going to wean that child,’ Susannah muttered. ‘He’s taken my strength for long enough.’ She cast a defiant look at Jack. ‘I’m going to that dance next year.’

‘If that’s what you want.’ Jack put his hand over hers, but she pulled her hand away. ‘Unless you’ve got a new baby by then.’

‘I won’t have a baby—I told you I’m not going to have babies every year.’ Susannah glared at him, and Amy tried to make herself inconspicuous.

‘Hey, Susannah, no need to talk about that sort of thing in front of the girl.’

‘Humph! She’s heard it all before—she listens at keyholes to find things out.’

‘I don’t,’ Amy began, then gave up the attempt to defend herself. She wondered why Susannah had told Edie she wasn’t going to have any more babies ever, while Amy’s father only seemed to have been told that she wasn’t going to have another one this year, but it was none of her business.

Well, the conversation had got off to a bad start, but she could hardly make it worse. She ploughed on. ‘About the dance—could I have a new dress for it?’

‘All right,’ Susannah said, indifference in her voice. ‘You must be due for a new smart dress.’

So far, so good. The next part would be harder. ‘I’m fifteen now, I don’t think I’m going to grow much more. Do you think…’ she gathered her courage. ‘Do you think I could have a silk dress this year?’ she said in a rush.

Susannah looked at her doubtfully. ‘I don’t know, you’re a little young for silk, really—’

‘Oh, go on, Susannah,’ Jack broke in. ‘Let the girl have a silk dress if her heart’s that set on it. It’s her first dance, you know.’

‘So you keep saying,’ Susannah snapped. ‘Well, if you want to waste the money it’s up to you.’

*

The next week saw haymaking start on Jack’s farm, and because Charlie Stewart’s farm was so small his solitary hay paddock was mown at the same time. Amy took morning tea, lunch and afternoon tea to the workers, which meant she got to see Jimmy often during the day, but they had no chance to be alone. The obvious route for the short distance from Jack’s hay paddocks to the house lay across cleared ground, so there were no quiet walks home together. Instead Amy trudged to and from the haymaking by herself, and Jimmy came up with her brothers at the end of the day.

That Thursday Jack took Amy into town with Susannah and the two little boys, leaving John, Harry and Jimmy to turn the hay. Thomas was entrusted to Jack, and Susannah led the way into the draper’s shop. Mrs Nichol ushered Susannah to a tall stool in front of the counter, and lifted down bolts of fabric for their inspection. Amy stood by the rolls of silk, gazing at the beautiful fabric in delight.

‘Your first silk dress, dear,’ Mrs Nichol gushed. ‘What do you think you’d like?’

Amy tore her eyes away from the silk with difficulty. ‘Oh… I suppose I have to choose one, don’t I?’ She looked back at the fabric. ‘There’re such a lot of them. Well… what about this one?’ She pointed to a plain silk in pale pink. She usually seemed to have pink dresses, so it was probably a safe choice.

‘No,’ Susannah said decisively. ‘You’re not having that—it wouldn’t do a thing for you. No, I think
this
one.’ She indicated a bolt of blue silk. When Mrs Nichol unrolled it on the counter, Amy saw that the light seemed to play across the silk in waves, sometimes paler and sometimes darker. It reminded her of sunshine on the sea. Amy thought she had never seen a more beautiful fabric.

Mrs Nichol held it up against Amy. ‘Oh, yes, with your colouring this will look beautiful. You certainly have good taste, Mrs Leith. Now, dear,’ she smiled at Amy, ‘how much do you think you’ll need? What sort of dress are you going to make?’

‘She’s not making it,’ Susannah interrupted, and Amy turned to her in bewilderment. Was Susannah going to take the dress away from her after all?

‘But Susannah, I thought you said I could have it.’

Susannah silenced her with a wave of her hand. ‘If your father’s to spend all this money on a silk dress for a child, it’s up to me to see it’s not completely wasted. I’m not going to have you spoil this material. Mrs Nichol, I want you to make a dress for Amy.’

‘Of course, Mrs Leith, it’ll be a pleasure.’ Mrs Nichol took out her tape measure and noted down a bemused Amy’s measurements. ‘You’ll look
beautiful
in this,’ she said effusively. ‘She’s such a pretty girl,’ she said to Susannah.

‘She’s very small,’ said Susannah.

‘She’s dainty. What style did you have in mind, dear?’ Mrs Nichol asked, turning back to Amy.

‘I thought I’d make it plain, maybe with a frill at the bottom?’

‘That wouldn’t do justice to the fabric,’ Susannah broke in. ‘Mrs Nichol, I want it narrow in the bodice, then flaring out over the hips and very full around the hem. Loop the upper part over her hips, then the rest will look like an underskirt, except in the same material. Narrow sleeves, too, with a frill around the cuffs—this lace is rather nice.’ She picked up some wide ivory lace from the counter. ‘What do you think of this for the cuffs?’ She was talking to the dressmaker rather than to Amy.

‘Very pretty,’ Mrs Nichol agreed. ‘Now, around the hem a pleated organdie frill would be nice. I could attach this lace to it—see, it goes nicely with the wide lace for the cuffs.’

They were ignoring her, but Amy broke in timidly. ‘Wouldn’t that lace around the hem be a bit hard to wash?’

‘I’ll attach the frill so you can easily take it off for washing, then sew it on again,’ Mrs Nichol explained.

‘Yes, the organdie frill is just right,’ Susannah agreed. She pursed her lips. ‘I suppose this is rather foolish, having such an elaborate dress made for a girl her age.’

‘The style is perhaps a little old for her—but if I put on a good, deep hem she can lower it when she goes into adult clothes. She should get several years of wear out of it that way.’

‘Hmm. That seems sensible enough.’ Susannah stood up. ‘Is that all you need to know? When can I collect the dress?’

‘I should have it ready in two weeks. Bring her in for a fitting next week, I’ll have it cut out and pinned by then.’ It would be finished in plenty of time for the dance, Amy was relieved to realise.

‘Susannah,’ Amy said when they were walking back to meet her father. ‘About my dress…’

‘What are you nagging about now? You’re not having anything else—that dress is going to cost quite enough money.’

‘No, I just wanted… I just wanted to say thank you. I mean, about saying I could have the dress made and everything. It’s going to be beautiful, and you picked such nice material and lace and things—’

‘Don’t fuss,’ said Susannah. ‘You had no idea what you wanted—you’re too young to have any idea of style, anyway. I didn’t want to see you looking ridiculous, that’s all.’ But Amy could see that Susannah was gratified by her praise.

*

The following day the hay was ready to be stacked, and again the men of the valley gathered for the laborious work. Amy had to make piles of sandwiches and pies, along with cakes, scones and tarts, to feed them all. It was difficult for her to carry four baskets full of food and drink, and she was grateful that the hay paddocks were so close to the farmhouse.

When Amy was gathering up the plates and mugs from lunch, her father ambled over in her direction. ‘We’ll be finishing up this paddock in a couple of hours, then we’ll go over and stack Charlie’s bit of hay,’ he said. ‘So you’d better bring the afternoon tea over there.’