Free A Second Chance by Shayne Parkinson

Father. That’s reason enough to treasure
them.’
    She turned her attention back to Amy. ‘Well,
what shall we do, then? There are things Auckland offers that
Ruatane doesn’t.’ She smiled at her own understatement. ‘I want to
take you out, to something special. A concert, perhaps. Would you
like that?’
    The sudden swell of excitement briefly
robbed Amy of breath. ‘Oh, yes!’ she said when she managed to find
words. ‘I’d love it.’
    ‘We’ll have our first outing this very week,
then—why, we could go out tonight if you wish.’ Sarah’s smile
broadened when she saw Amy’s eyes widen. ‘Well, why not? There’s
sure to be something on, this is Auckland, after all. Yes, tonight
it’s to be.’
    She pulled the cord that summoned the maids.
Alice appeared, and was asked to fetch the newspaper, which she
returned with moments later. Sarah scanned the paper, then passed
it to Amy, pointing to the paragraphs that dealt with
entertainments.
    ‘We’ve a choice. Two plays, and a choir.
Which would you prefer?’
    ‘Oh, whatever you want, Sarah. I’m sure I’d
like anything you picked.’
    ‘No,’ Sarah said firmly. ‘The choice is up
to you.’
    Amy did not protest; she already knew that
set expression of Sarah’s too well for that. She studied the
newspaper carefully, trying to decide which outing Sarah might
prefer, though she had known her own preference the moment she saw
the titles of the plays.
    ‘Would it be all right if we went to this
one?’ she asked, her finger marking her choice. ‘Only if you want
to—I’m sure I’d like any of them.’
    ‘What I want is for you to choose whatever
you’d like best, and for me to have the pleasure of taking you to
it. Yes, I’m sure this will be very pleasant,’ Sarah said, glancing
at Amy’s chosen outing. ‘I’ll send out for tickets. What made you
pick this one, dearest?’
    ‘It’s Shakespeare,’ Amy said, convinced that
that explained all. ‘I’ve wanted to see a Shakespeare play… oh, all
my life, I think.’
    ‘Well, tonight you shall have your wish.’
Sarah’s expression turned thoughtful. ‘Ah, what exactly were you
thinking of wearing?’ she asked delicately.
    ‘It’ll have to be my black dress, that’s my
only good one for outings.’ Seeing Sarah’s dubious expression, Amy
added quickly, ‘It’s looking much better than it did this morning,
Nellie made a lovely job of brushing it for me. It’s looking quite
smart now.’
    ‘But that’s a mourning dress,’ Sarah said,
her voice sounding carefully controlled. ‘Quite apart from any
other shortcomings it might have.’
    ‘Yes, Sarah,’ Amy said quietly. ‘You know
I’m in mourning.’
    ‘In Ruatane you might be. In Auckland
there’s no need to pretend.’
    Amy closed her eyes for a moment, not
relishing the prospect of arguing with Sarah. ‘It’s not pretending,
it’s showing respect. I owe—no, I don’t owe it to Charlie, I want
to do it. It just seems the right thing to do.’
    ‘It’s dishonest,’ Sarah said, her face
hardening. ‘It’s pretending you’re sorry he’s dead.’
    Amy shook her head. ‘No, it’s not. I don’t
go around crying or anything. I just dress respectfully. That’s not
so much to ask.’
    ‘But why? He’s dead, and no one’s sorry
about that. You of all people—you should be celebrating. After the
way he treated you, scarlet satin would be more appropriate than
black wool.’ Her eyes flashed as she spoke.
    ‘It was just the way he talked,’ Amy said,
taken aback by Sarah’s ferocity. ‘It didn’t mean anything.’
    ‘The way he talked? That would have been
enough on its own, wouldn’t it? But what about the rest of it, Amy?
What about the beatings?’
    Amy was briefly startled into silence. ‘Who
told you that?’ she asked when speech returned.
    ‘Dave told me—well, I dragged it out of him,
I should say. It’s like drawing teeth, getting you or Dave to tell
me anything about that man. Just the bald