Settling the Account (33 page)

‘That wouldn’t have gone down too well.’

‘No. Anyway, it got worse and worse—they
were really shouting at each other after a bit. George said if she
was going to make his life a misery he wouldn’t come home any more,
and she said she didn’t know why he bothered. She didn’t mean it,
but she said it anyway. Then George said why didn’t I come away on
the boat with him—he said there’s plenty of work to do, he’d get me
a job no trouble.’

‘Your mother wouldn’t have thought much of
that! You’re not really going to, are you, Tom?’

‘I promised Pa I’d look after her,’ Thomas
said, a set expression on his face. ‘Anyway, I don’t know if I
fancy working on a boat—I get too seasick. Right then, though, I
told them I was fed up with the pair of them, and maybe I’d go and
get a job in Dunedin or somewhere else a heck of a long way from
both of them, anything for a bit of peace and quiet. George stormed
out and slept on the boat that night, and I went off to bed early,
so that was the end of that row.’

A smile stole on to Thomas’s face, and he
shot a glance at Susannah. ‘She got me breakfast next morning. I
usually just get myself a bit of bread and butter of a morning, you
know how she likes having a lie in. But she got up early and made
me a real breakfast, bacon and eggs like we used to have on the
farm, and she brought it in on a tray. Breakfast in bed, eh! I’d
never had that before. She didn’t talk about what everyone had said
the night before, but she sat on the bed and watched me eat
breakfast, and she started talking that rot about being proud of me
and all. And she said she’d be really lonely if I left her. She
even gave me a kiss. She needn’t have worried, though. I told Pa
I’d look after her, and I will.’

Amy slipped her hand onto his arm and gave
it a squeeze. ‘Pa would have been proud of you, too, Tom.’ To say
more would embarrass him, so she changed the subject. ‘How’s your
job going?’

Thomas shrugged. ‘It’s all right, I suppose.
Mr Callaghan’s pretty good to work for, but I get a bit sick of
having to wear a collar and tie every day. Not like on the farm. I
don’t have to get up so early, that’s one good thing. I’m sort of
used to getting up early, though,’ he said with a rueful smile.

‘I wish you’d come and see me sometimes. I
never see you now.’

‘Why don’t you come and see us, then?’

‘It’s a bit far to walk, Tom! And you know
Uncle Charlie’s not one for visiting, so I couldn’t get him to take
me.’

‘I suppose not. I’d like to come out here
more, but it’s hard to get the time. She likes me to take her
visiting on my day off, and she wouldn’t want to come to the farm.’
He looked towards the corner of the room where Frank and Bill were
deep in discussion, with David and Joey close by trying to look
knowledgeable. ‘I wonder how Frank’s cows are getting on.’ Amy
could see in his face how eager he was to be part of the
conversation.

‘Go and ask him,’ she said, giving him a
small push. She went back to her chair in time to hear Susannah
press an invitation to visit on the two teachers. Susannah’s
animation had not lessened, and Amy felt herself to be a dull
little mouse in comparison.

Maudie put a tray of food onto a small table
and sat down beside Susannah. She reached out and brushed the folds
of lilac silk, then pulled her hand back guiltily when Susannah
gave a start at the touch.

‘It’s a lovely dress,’ Maudie said. ‘You
always wear nice things, Aunt Susannah.’

‘Thank you, dear,’ Susannah said, gracing
Maudie with a smile. ‘This is the first time I’ve worn this one,
actually. I had it made only last week. I must say it’s rather a
relief not to have to wear black any longer, though I did make the
effort to have decent mourning clothes.’

Lamplight played on the slight sheen of the
silk. The dress was beautiful, Amy thought. The style was quite
plain, allowing the lovely fabric to show to best advantage. It
fitted tightly over the bodice, emphasising Susannah’s full bosom
and narrow waist, then fell in soft folds. The sleeves were
close-fitting, too, ornamented at the shoulders with tiny
epaulettes and ending in ruffles of white lace at the cuffs.

Amy looked at her own dress with a critical
gaze. It was clean and tidy, and the pale yellow was a pleasant
enough colour, but cotton was not silk. The dress was beginning to
fade in a few places, betraying its long life. She glanced again at
Susannah’s gown and allowed herself to speculate on the notion of
making a silk dress. She had only had one in her life, and the blue
dress still hung in her wardrobe, old-fashioned even by country
standards but far too good to throw out.

She had yet to adjust to the phenomenon of
having her own money. Material for her mourning clothes, along with
a black bonnet, had been her first expenditure, soon followed by a
frame for the present David had given her; then in the middle of
winter her boots had developed a hole and had had to be replaced.
After the third quarterly payment of her annuity, she had plucked
up the courage to send away for a volume of poems advertised in the
Weekly News
, and had then been so horrified at the postage
charge added to the cost of the parcel that she had not dared buy
anything since. Now, seeing Susannah’s dress, she felt the
stirrings of a desire for pretty things of her own that she had
suppressed for all the years of her marriage. Perhaps, she
whispered to herself, she could even afford a sewing machine like
the one that was now Lizzie’s pride and joy. Perhaps she would not
have to be a drab little mouse all her life.

‘Such a pretty colour,’ Maudie said, daring
to touch the dress again. Amy saw Susannah give Maudie’s hands a
hard stare then visibly relax on seeing their well-scrubbed state.
‘Do you think this colour would suit me, Aunt Susannah?’

‘No, I don’t think so,’ Susannah said. ‘It’s
too—’ She stopped abruptly and gave Maudie a closer look. ‘Goodness
me, what a… striking dress.’ She floundered briefly, then managed,
‘It’s very… bright.’

‘It’s horrible,’ Maudie said, dismissing the
dress with a flick of her hand. She cast a challenging look in her
mother’s direction, but Lizzie was too busy discussing small
children with Lily to notice.

Maudie leaned forward and fixed Susannah
with an earnest gaze. ‘Aunt Susannah, what do you think would suit
me best?’

Susannah gave Maudie an appraising glance.
‘Not what you’re wearing, anyway. At your age, simple styles are
nicest. You’ve pretty hair and a reasonable figure, you don’t need
such elaborate frills and ruffles.’

‘Ma,’ Maudie said triumphantly, loud enough
to catch her mother’s ear, ‘Aunt Susannah thinks this dress is
horrible, too.’

‘Well, I wouldn’t put it quite that
strongly,’ Susannah demurred before Lizzie had a chance to
respond.

‘I
think it’s a lovely dress,’ Lizzie
said. ‘I went to a lot of trouble over that dress, I’m sure I don’t
know why it’s suddenly such a monstrosity.’

‘Hardly a monstrosity,’ Susannah said, with
an obvious effort at tact. ‘But I do think you could do better.
That pink is far too bright, with your fair colouring. You’d be
better with soft colours—pink by all means, just not so… well,
lurid. Blues, too. Not lilac like this, it wouldn’t look right with
those pink cheeks of yours. Actually, green would suit you rather
well.’

‘I’ve got another dress,’ Maudie said
eagerly. ‘The one I wanted to wear tonight—it’s white muslin, quite
plain, only it’s got green ribbons on the bodice. Do you think
that’s the right sort of dress for me?’

‘Yes, that sounds very suitable.’

‘I suggested she wear the white muslin,’
Lily said. ‘I’m sorry, Lizzie, but I do think it suits her
better.’

‘But it’s so plain,’ Lizzie protested. ‘No
one would look at her in a dress like that.’

‘A simple dress would set her off far
better,’ Susannah said. ‘She’s young, and she has some good
features. This dress hides her best points instead of helping one
notice them.’

‘Oh.’ Lizzie was briefly at a loss for
words, but Maudie’s superior expression was not something she chose
to look at. ‘Anyway, I still think it’s a lovely dress,’ she said
as though that were an end to the discussion. ‘Maudie, it’s time
you played us some of your songs. Hurry up, it’s getting late.
Quiet, everyone, Maudie’s going to play now.’

Maudie played her first piece, Lily watching
her with a proprietorial air. ‘I do wish she wouldn’t play extra
loud when she’s not sure of the notes,’ Lily whispered to Amy, but
she clapped as enthusiastically as everyone else when Maudie
finished the piece.

‘She’s coming on well, isn’t she?’ Lizzie
said. ‘Aunt Susannah, doesn’t she sit up nicely when she plays?
She’s got that deportment real good now. You should see her with a
book on her head—she can get right up the passage and back without
dropping it. Maudie, show everyone how you can walk with a book on
your head.’

Before Maudie had a chance to voice the
indignant refusal written on her face, Susannah spoke.

‘Walking with a book is just an exercise in
gaining good deportment, Lizzie,’ she said, looking pained. ‘It’s
not something to do as a party piece.’

‘I just thought you’d like to see it,’
Lizzie said; a little huffily, Amy thought.

Maudie started her second piece before her
mother had the chance to make any more suggestions. She played more
confidently this time, and when she had finished she turned to give
the company a bright smile in response to their applause.

The smile disappeared when, in the brief
silence that followed the burst of clapping, Susannah could be
heard to murmur, ‘Oh, that dress.’ Maudie glared at her mother, a
wasted effort as Lizzie was looking elsewhere, and for a moment Amy
thought she might burst into tears.

Instead the girl slipped quietly from the
room. Amy hoped Maudie would not expose herself to everyone’s
stares by having eyes too obviously red from crying when she
returned.

She need not have worried on that count. In
a surprisingly short time Maudie was back, no sign of tears on her
face as she strode into the room with her head held high, wearing a
white muslin dress with green ribbon bows on the bodice.

‘Oh,
that’s
better,’ Lily and
Susannah said in chorus. Amy suspected that their response would
anger Lizzie as much as Maudie’s defiant action. ‘Yes, that’s just
the sort of thing I had in mind,’ said Susannah.

Maudie shot a look of triumph at her mother,
to be met with a hard stare in return.

‘Maudie, pick up those empty plates and take
them out to the kitchen,’ Lizzie said in a deceptively mild tone.
‘I’ll be out in a minute to help you stack them up.’

Maudie did as she was told, with the
slightest toss of her head as she went. Lizzie followed her a
moment later.

Frank crossed the room to stand close to
Amy. ‘What’s up with those two?’ he asked quietly. ‘They’ve been
looking daggers at each other all night. It’s something or other
about Maudie wanting a new dress, isn’t it?’

‘Something like that,’ Amy murmured back.
‘Shall I go out there and try and calm them down?’ she offered,
though without any great hope of success.

‘I wish you would,’ Frank said. ‘It’s no
good me interfering when they get like that.’

Amy could hear raised voices before she was
halfway down the passage. When she entered the kitchen she found
the two combatants had locked gazes across the table, each
bristling with injured pride.

‘You deliberately went against me in there,’
Lizzie said. ‘You tried to show me up in front of everyone.’

‘Me show you up? What about you, making me
wear that awful dress?’

‘It’s getting late, Lizzie. Why don’t you
and Maudie talk about it in the morning?’ Amy said. They ignored
her.

‘You’re getting too big for your boots
lately, Miss,’ Lizzie said. ‘It’s about time you started showing a
bit of respect.’

‘Why should I?’

‘Because if you don’t, I’ll have to teach
you a lesson.’

‘I don’t see why I should take any notice of
you,’ Maudie said, her eyes blazing. She was unfortunate enough to
have inherited something of her grandfather’s temper as well as her
mother’s overbearing ways; Lizzie would never have defied her own
mother so openly. ‘I’m not a little kid any more for you to boss
around.’

‘You can start calling the tune when you’ve
got your own place, but you’ll do as I say while you live in my
house or there’ll be trouble.’

Maudie stamped her foot. ‘I never
will
get out of here if you have your way. Who’ll look twice
at me wearing awful dresses like you want? And then you go making a
fool of me in front of everyone, talking about walking with a book
on my head! I just about
died
of embarrassment.’

‘I think I know more about what’s suitable
than a slip of a girl like you.’

‘You?’ Maudie said. ‘What do you know about
style or anything? I know the things that look nice better than you
do—Aunt Susannah and Aunt Lily both said the dress I picked was
much nicer than that awful one. You don’t even care about how you
look, let alone trying to tell me how to dress.’

Lizzie’s eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t care for
your tone. Don’t you go setting yourself up above your betters, my
girl.’

‘I’m not,’ Maudie flung back recklessly.
‘I’m only setting myself up above
you
.’

Amy gave a gasp. ‘I think you’d better say
sorry to your ma, Maudie,’ she said in the ominous silence that
followed Maudie’s outburst.

‘No,’ Maudie said. ‘I’m
not
sorry.’

‘You will be,’ Lizzie said, her voice
dangerously calm.

‘Lizzie, don’t be too hard on her,’ Amy
said. ‘She didn’t mean it, I’m sure. She’s probably over-tired,
with all the excitement tonight.’