Free Mud and Gold by Shayne Parkinson

woken down to fear that Charlie might
have refused her request.
    Amy walked up the road wearing a faded print
frock and carrying her good dress and beautiful hat; she had
decided the occasion was special enough to take the hat from its
shelf. She felt like a child let out of school on the first day of
the holidays as she revelled in the luxury of being alone. Apart
from the ill-fated visit to Susannah just after her marriage, and a
hurried second visit to return her borrowings, it was the first
time she had left Charlie’s farm by herself in the two months since
her wedding.
    Once she had rounded a bend in the road and
Charlie’s property was out of sight, Amy managed to shake off an
uneasy sense of being watched. She looked around her at the beauty
of the bush. It was as if she had not seen it for years, and she
almost felt like giving a little skip as she went along. The long
walk to Arthur’s farm did not seem weary; it was like a pleasant
Sunday stroll. Even the mild churning in her stomach failed to
lower her spirits.
    When she got to the farm, Bill and Alf were
busy setting out all the chairs the Leiths owned or had been able
to borrow on the lawn in front of the verandah. Amy waved to them
as she went into the house and sought out Lizzie.
    Lizzie and her mother had been up from first
light, putting the finishing touches to the wedding breakfast then
preparing Lizzie for display. Amy let out a gasp when she saw her.
All the romantic notions she and Lizzie had talked about as
children, of brides glowing with joy on their wedding days, were
made real in Lizzie. The round, cheerful face had taken on a
radiance that lifted it beyond ordinary prettiness and into
something Amy supposed must be beauty. She had never seen anyone
looking so happy.
    Lizzie was standing in the parlour beside a
table groaning under its load. The centrepiece was a three-tier
wedding cake surrounded by vases of flowers, and Lizzie looked like
the cake come to life. Her gown was of pale pink satin stitched
into a mass of gathers and ruffles. The bodice had tiny pin-tucks
either side of a row of ivory buttons, and was edged with cream
lace. The same lace made a frill around the neck and cuffs, and the
sleeves were smocked above the elbows. She had a puffed train over
her bustle and spilling around her feet, on which she wore white
satin shoes.
    ‘Amy, you’ve got nimble fingers, help me
with this blessed thing,’ Edie asked, struggling with Lizzie’s
veil. Amy helped her secure it to Lizzie’s hair with pins before
they placed a wreath of orange blossom over the tulle.
    ‘Doesn’t she look fine?’ Edie said, beaming
all over her broad, good-natured face as she and Amy stood back to
admire their handiwork.
    ‘Lovely. Just lovely,’ Amy agreed.
    Edie clucked in alarm when the mantel clock
struck nine. The two girls sent her off to finish her own toilette.
Amy turned back to Lizzie, and stood drinking in the sight.
    ‘You look beautiful.’ She gave Lizzie a
careful hug, anxious not to disturb any of her finery. ‘Frank is a
very lucky man.’
    ‘I’ll make sure he knows it, don’t you
worry.’ Lizzie studied her, and Amy instinctively shied away from
the inspection. ‘I haven’t seen you much lately. I’ve really missed
you since you got married. But, you know, there’s been all this
stuff to do, getting ready for the wedding… are you well, Amy?’
    Amy felt her face take on a closed
expression, and she replied more sharply than she had intended.
    ‘Quite well enough, thank you. There’s no
need to worry about me.’
    ‘You look so tired—you’ve got shadows under
your eyes, and I think you’ve lost a bit of weight. Your face looks
sort of drawn. Haven’t you been sleeping well?’
    ‘A husband takes a bit of getting used to,
you’ll find.’ Amy attempted a laugh, but failed. ‘There’s a lot to
get used to with a new house, too.’ Washing clothes by the
creek. Hauling wet washing up the hill. Dragging water all the