Settling the Account (79 page)

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Authors: Shayne Parkinson

Tags: #family, #historical, #victorian, #new zealand, #farming, #edwardian, #farm life

BOOK: Settling the Account
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‘He could’ve stayed here, you know,’ Lizzie
said. ‘I’d’ve looked after him.’

‘I know, love. It wouldn’t have suited Ben,
though. He wasn’t any good at getting on with people.’

‘I bet the kids would’ve brought him out of
himself. You can’t be shy with kids around.’

‘That’s true enough.’ Frank stroked the
baby’s cheek, musing on how quickly the ugly, wrinkled creature had
been transformed into this plump cherub. ‘Ben never got the chance
to find that out. And he’s never going to have kids of his
own.’

‘You’re soft, you know that, Frank? It was
Ben’s idea to go wandering off, no one made him. He probably
could’ve talked someone into marrying him, there’s always women
who’re a bit desperate.’

The baby had lost interest in suckling for
the moment. Lizzie tucked her breasts back into her nightdress and
cuddled him against her, studying the little face turned up to
hers. ‘Benjamin, I suppose his proper name was?’

‘I suppose it was. Yes, that’s right, I
remember Ma calling him Benjamin once in a blue moon.’

‘That’s quite nice, really. Benjamin.
Benjy.’ She jiggled the baby gently. ‘Benjy?’ she said, raising the
pitch of her voice, and the baby’s eyes widened slightly at the
sound. ‘Yes, you like that, don’t you, sweetie?’

The little mouth started working again.
Lizzie pulled out a full breast and offered it to the baby. ‘All
right, we’ll call him Benjamin.’

‘Thanks, Lizzie. Ben would’ve liked that.
It’s good to think I can do something for him. I mean, I’ve got
everything, really, and Ben ended up with nothing.’

‘Now, don’t you go getting silly over it.
You did plenty for Ben—not that he gave you any say in it, helping
himself to his share of the money like that, and you with a family
to provide for. Well, you had me, anyway. And we started having the
kids pretty quickly. You’ve no reason to feel guilty.’

‘I know, love.’ Frank squeezed her hand,
taking an odd sort of pleasure in being scolded by her. There was a
time when Lizzie would have verbally flayed him for such
foolishness, but her scoldings were noticeably half-hearted these
days.

Much of the vigour had gone out of Lizzie
with the bearing of this child, and Frank sensed that it would
never be fully restored. It troubled him to think she might never
be quite the same again, but far more powerful than any vague
yearning for the old Lizzie was his overwhelming relief that he had
not lost her.

He lifted her hand and kissed it. ‘I’m
lucky, you know, Lizzie.’

‘You’re soft, Frank.’ But she made no move
to disengage her hand from his.

 

*

 

‘There’s milk in the jug over here, see?’
Amy said. ‘The scones are under that cloth—there’s biscuits in the
tins, too, if he wants something else. Be sure and break them into
little pieces for him, though, he can’t manage otherwise. Oh, and
there’s—’

‘I can find the stuff, Ma,’ David
interrupted. ‘It’s time you were going. Hey, don’t go putting the
cups out, I can do that.’

‘It’ll save you bothering. Now, it’d be good
if you could talk your father into sitting in the parlour for a
while, that sometimes brightens him up a bit, but if he gets tired
you be sure and take him back to bed. He gets those awful headaches
if he overdoes it. And see he doesn’t get cold, he doesn’t seem to
notice until he’s really shivering. And make sure—’

‘Ma, you’ve already told me all that. Come
on, get a move on. You don’t want to be late for the party,
eh?’

Amy sat down at the table. ‘I shouldn’t be
going at all,’ she fretted. ‘I don’t know why I let you talk me
into it. Oh, I don’t think I can.’

‘Now, don’t start all that again,’ David
said. ‘You’ve got to go, Aunt Lizzie’s expecting you. And it’s
pretty special, isn’t it, with them having both the babies
christened. Even Pa said you’re to go.’

Amy could not resist a smile at that gentle
thrust. ‘I never thought I’d see you and your father siding against
me, Dave.’

‘Well, he can see you’re due for an outing.
And if you don’t get a move on they’ll all have gone home by the
time you get there! Come on, Ma.’ He took hold of her unresisting
hand and tugged her upright.

It was a very special occasion, Amy had to
keep reminding herself. Nothing less momentous than the joint
christening could have persuaded her to abandon tending Charlie,
even for the hour or so she expected to be away. Now that David had
got into the habit of sitting with his father for an hour every
evening, giving Amy the chance to tidy the kitchen and make the
bread without interruption, she could see that Charlie had learned
not to be frightened of his son.

But that did not stop her feeling guilty and
anxious. ‘Remember to keep him warm,’ she reminded David again as
he helped her on with her cloak. ‘And make sure the tea cools down
a bit before you give him a cup, or he’ll scald his mouth. You know
you have to hold the cup for him, don’t you? And—’

‘Ma!’ David interrupted. ‘I
know
. I
know all that. And if you say one more word, I’m going to pick you
up and carry you outside and dump you on the ground. Hurry
up
.’

Amy obediently went down the steps, but she
paused at the base. ‘But you must—no, listen a minute,’ she said
when David raised a warning finger. ‘I’m going, really I am. But
I’ve got to say this one thing first. If your father’s taken
poorly, you must send for me. Run over to Uncle John’s, there’ll be
someone home. Will you promise me you’ll do that, Davie? I don’t
think I can go unless you do.’

‘He’ll be all right. Oh, don’t get in a
state over it. I promise. If Pa gets sick I’ll send for you. He
won’t, though.’

Amy smiled. ‘No, I don’t think he will.
You’re very good with him.’ She ran back up the steps, planted a
kiss of gratitude on his cheek, then hurried down and began her
walk before David had the chance to scold her again over her
tardiness.

The christening ceremony began so quickly
after Amy’s arrival that she was guiltily aware it must have been
delayed for her sake. But the feeling of guilt was soon lost in the
pleasure of being surrounded by so many people that she loved. Even
Mrs Coulson was there; she smiled warmly at Amy from her place near
Arthur and Edie.

Apart from a brief, startled squeal from
Lucy when water was poured over her forehead, the two babies
behaved perfectly, to the conspicuous relief of the minister. He
was an elderly bachelor who had only recently arrived in the
district, and whom Amy had never seen before, and his discomfort at
having to cope with not one but two babies was obvious. She was not
surprised when he made his excuses as soon as his task was over,
and escaped from the house before Lizzie could ply him with food
and drink.

Amy was a little disappointed when John and
Harry and their families left soon after the minister, though she
knew the reason well enough. Neither of her older brothers would
willingly stay in the same room as Susannah for any longer than
politeness demanded.

But there was another guest whom Amy was
delighted to see, and who seemed in no rush to leave. As soon as
Amy arrived, Sarah beckoned her over to the place she had saved at
her side. Sarah had come out with Susannah and Thomas, as Susannah
was eager to tell everyone.

Sarah seemed in a strange mood, Amy found
soon after sitting down beside her. She was clearly tense, and
several times she began a sentence only to break off abruptly. Amy
wished she could probe the reason for Sarah’s mood, but the number
of people crammed into the parlour meant she could do no more than
talk quietly about innocuous subjects.

Amy saw Susannah looking rather hopefully in
Arthur’s direction when John and Harry made their departures;
Susannah was clearly under no illusion about Arthur’s feelings
towards her. But Arthur did no more than answer Susannah’s look
with a grim stare before he turned his attention back to the rest
of the company.

This was a rare outing for Arthur and Edie;
in fact it was the first time they had left the farm since the
previous summer. Arthur was over seventy now, and had condescended
to use a stick to get about ever since a fall the previous autumn
had left one leg somewhat unsteady. But he wore his age proudly,
his shoulders unbowed by the years that had slowed his
movements.

Amy was reminded painfully of her father as
she studied Arthur. He should have had the same peaceful old age
his brother was enjoying, she thought wistfully. Instead, his last
years had been soured by strife and pain; Susannah’s incessant
complaints, and Jack’s sense of guilt over Amy’s fate.

But Arthur shared his house with three
females who, in their different ways, devoted much of their time to
looking after his comfort. Edie tended to fuss about rather
vaguely, full of good intentions but more often than not forgetting
what she had meant to do within a minute or two of having voiced
the thought. She would announce plaintively that Arthur liked the
other sort of jam better, or Arthur needed a warmer jacket brought
to him, then look about as if expecting the desired item to
materialise of its own free will.

It was Lily who made sure that both Arthur
and Edie were well cared for. In Lily a kind heart and a strong
feeling of gratitude were mixed with sound good sense, and her
parents-in-law reaped the benefits. Amy noticed that Lily’s
attention never left the elderly pair for more than a few minutes,
and today Lily was including Mrs Coulson in her solicitous care. It
was Lily who placed rugs over their laps to see that they were kept
warm, and Lily who arranged a footstool under Arthur’s feet. She
then assigned her daughter to stay close to Arthur, Edie and the
nurse, and to fetch them anything they wanted. Ten-year-old Emma
was a quiet, solemn girl who clearly took her responsibility
seriously.

Amy could see that Arthur enjoyed the
attention, though he grumbled unconvincingly that there was ‘too
much fussing about’. He made much of little Lucy, who sat on his
lap gurgling and cooing, looking suitably cherubic in her long gown
trimmed with a mass of white lace and ribbons, and he did not even
object when the little girl took hold of his beard and gave it a
firm tug.

‘Strong little thing, isn’t she?’ Arthur
remarked as he disengaged his beard from Lucy’s fist. ‘She’s a fine
child, this one. She’s my great-granddaughter, you know,’ he
announced to the room in general. ‘That’s something out of the
usual, having a great-grandchild.’

‘And a new grandson,’ Lizzie put in sharply,
ever alert for any imagined slight to one of her children. ‘You’ve
got a new grandson, too.’

‘I know that,’ Arthur said. ‘He’s a fine
enough little chap, too. But I’ve more grandchildren than I can
shake a stick at—I’ve got…’ He frowned as he attempted the
calculation, then admitted defeat. ‘How many grandchildren have I
got, Edie?’

‘Eleven,’ Edie said promptly. She might be
vague about many things, but Edie could effortlessly call to mind
the names of all her grandchildren. ‘Maudie’s the oldest, and
Benjy’s the youngest.’

‘Eleven of them,’ Arthur echoed. ‘There’s no
sense making a fuss over another one. But a great-grandchild, now
that’s something. It’s not every man has a great-grandchild.’

‘I’ve got one, too,’ Edie said, smiling
contentedly.

‘Well, of course you have,’ Arthur said. ‘If
I’ve got one, so have you.’

‘But it’s nice, isn’t it?’ Edie said, her
smile not faltering. ‘It’s just nice.’

Arthur gave an exaggerated sigh. ‘You say
some silly things at times, Edie.’ He reached out to squeeze her
hand.

The footstool shifted a little with his
movement, and the vigilant Lily hurried over to straighten it. ‘Is
that better, Father?’ she asked. ‘Your leg isn’t hurting you, is
it?’

‘No, no, I haven’t had a twinge all day,’
Arthur said. ‘It’s just about right now, this leg of mine. I’ll be
down at the cow shed again before long, see what sort of a job
you’ve been making of things, boy.’

This last was directed at Bill, who was
watching his father with a mixture of exasperation and amusement.
‘Don’t be in too much of a rush, Pa,’ he said mildly. ‘I can just
about manage to keep the other fellows in line by myself. And don’t
forget I’ve got Arfie helping now.’ Amy saw him catch Lily’s eye
for a moment; Lily answered his grin with a small smile of her
own.

‘Mmm, that’s true enough,’ Arthur said.
‘He’s a great milker, that one. I’ve never seen a boy get through
the cows like he does. Still, that doesn’t mean I don’t need to
start keeping an eye on the rest of you fellows again.’

‘You want to take care of yourself,’ Bill
persisted. ‘There’s no sense overdoing it. I remember John and
Harry saying how they used to wish Uncle Jack would lie in of a
morning, not go wearing himself out milking every day.’

Arthur’s face twisted into a scowl, but it
was not directed at Bill. Amy followed his gaze as it crossed the
room to settle on Susannah.

‘It wasn’t milking that killed Jack,’ he
said, echoing Amy’s own thoughts.

Susannah had not caught his words, but she
seemed to sense his attention. She looked up sharply and met
Arthur’s baleful glare with a resentful one of her own.

They might have held each other’s eyes for
an uncomfortable length of time if Maudie, blithely unaware of the
hostility crackling across the room, had not come between the two
of them.

‘Now, Grandpa, you can’t have Lucy all to
yourself,’ she said to Arthur. ‘There’s other people want to give
her a cuddle too, you know.’

She scooped Lucy up into her arms, then
looked around the room speculatively. Her eyes soon settled on
Sarah, and a look of sympathy spread over her face. How sad, her
expression said as clearly as if she had spoken. Here was a woman
who had no husband and no paragon of a child to exult in.

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