The Other Wife

Chapter 7

Jane

When school ended in the afternoon, we were supposed to wait for Mrs Reed to come to walk us home. John and Emma would go off and talk to their friends after lessons finished, or play sport. I had to wait by the gate all alone. I wasn’t allowed to play in any sports team, or have music lessons or any of the things Emma and John did.

Not long after Emma’s birthday, John appeared at the gate before his sister.

‘Come with me,’ he said.

‘We’re supposed to wait here.’

‘Mum won’t be here for ages. Emma has her stupid ballet lesson today. Come with me or else I’ll tell Mum on you.’

I wasn’t sure what he would tell her, but I knew it would be bad, so I followed him across the playground and around to the sports oval. Almost everyone had gone home for the day, but John opened the door to the sports-equipment shed.

‘Go in there.’

I could hear some whispering inside. I started to back away. ‘No. I don’t want to.’

John grabbed me by the shoulder and pushed me through the doorway. I tripped and fell forward. My arm buckled underneath me and my face crashed into the hard wooden floor.

‘Is this her? She’s just a kid.’

‘She hasn’t even got any tits.’

I didn’t know how many people there were around me. All the voices sounded like boys. Lying there on the floor, I couldn’t see their faces, only their shiny black school shoes.

John’s voice rose above the others. ‘Well, I did it, didn’t I? You said I couldn’t get a girl. She’s a girl.’

Another of the voices jeered. ‘Well, let’s have a proper look at her, then.’

John prodded me with the toe of his shoe, trying to get me to roll over. I pulled my arms around my head, keeping my face against the floor, blocking them all out.

‘Come on, then.’ This time, it was more of a kick than a prod. ‘I’ve already seen ‘em. Time to get ‘em out for my mates.’

I felt John’s hand wrap around my arm. I wriggled instinctively, pulling away from his grip. His shoe caught me as I moved, pushing under my body and forcing me onto my back. There was a volley of laughter as my skirt rode up. I dragged myself to kneeling, pulling my dress down to cover myself. This time another hand grabbed my arm, and John went for my hair. The pain shot through my head. ‘Get up!’

I had no choice. It felt as if my hair would be ripped from my scalp if I refused.

Standing in the middle of the jeering circle, I dug my thumbs into the sides of my school uniform, holding it down close to my body.

‘Let me go.’

John laughed and reached for the hem of my uniform.

‘No.’ I slapped his hand away. Another boy grabbed me from behind and held me.

‘We won’t hurt you,’ John said. ‘I’m going to show them what you showed me at home the other day.’

He reached for me again, and his cold fingertips touched the bare skin of my neck.

I didn’t understand what was happening, but I knew I would be blamed. Mrs Reed would say it was a sign that I was dirty and sinful. I was not dirty. I was not sinful. I would not let this happen.

I screamed as long and as loud as I could. I kicked out at the boys around me. The more they laughed the more I kicked, until I finally heard one of them gasp. I had hurt him. Good.

‘What’s going on here?’

The boys jumped away, distancing themselves as much as they could, as if they had just happened to be in the shed and not noticed what was going on at all. The sports teacher came into the room. I ran to the door, almost knocking him over as I did.

‘Wait.’

He grabbed me by the shoulders. Acting purely on instinct I screamed again and tried to slap his hand away. The noise was attracting other people, including some of the kids and several teachers. I was led away by the lady who taught music. She took me to an empty staffroom and gave me a glass of water. She had a calm, sympathetic voice, but, when she asked me what had happened in the shed, I couldn’t tell her. The words sat in my throat, hot and painful, but they refused to be spoken aloud. She looked at me for a long time.

‘Are you quite sure you’re all right, Jane?’

I nodded, which seemed to stop her asking again. At last there was a knock on the door. The teacher opened it, and I saw Mrs Reed standing there. Her face was hard and cold, and I could see how angry she was.

‘Come with me, Jane.’

I did as she said. John and Emma were waiting by the school entrance and we all walked home together, like we did every other day. I didn’t look at my elder cousin. Not once. Mrs Reed was silent until we were inside the apartment and the door was closed. ‘Jane, this is the worst thing you’ve ever done.’

‘I didn’t do anything.’

‘They said they found you with a whole group of boys. John said you lured them all there.’

The smirk reappeared on John’s face as he watched me, waiting for me to speak.

‘That’s not what happened.’ I clenched my fists. ‘He dragged me into that shed with the other boys and told me to…’

‘Not another word, Jane! Not one word. This is just like your mother, and I will not stand for it. Not in my house.’

Mrs Reed took my arm and I knew what was coming.

‘No. No.’ I tried to pull away, but she was too strong. She dragged me to the glass door and pushed me out onto the balcony.

‘You’ll stay out there until you learn how to behave,’ she said. ‘And until you apologise to John for lying about him.’

Mrs Reed barely spoke to me in the days after that horrible afternoon. It was impossible to hide from John, but I stayed as far away from him as I could at school, and I didn’t go to wait by the gate until Emma was there. I put a chair under the door-handle in my room at night. I don’t think I even understood what I was afraid of. I only knew that I was very afraid.

And then I saw Jennifer for the very first time.

On this day, the lift in our building was broken and we had to walk up the stairs. I was glad of this because I hated the lift, especially when I was closed in there with John. Mrs Reed hated the stairs and by the time we were halfway up, she was panting. I lagged behind, even though I wasn’t panting at all. As we climbed past the floor below ours, the floor where I knew Jennifer lived, I lagged even more. I still suspected Jennifer was an angel, and I desperately wanted to see her.

Just as Mrs Reed reached the landing, a door opened and a woman stepped out. I knew at once that it was her. She had long golden hair and a beautiful face, like a real, genuine angel.

‘Hello, Mrs Reed,’ she said.

‘Good afternoon.’ Mrs Reed barely glanced her way as she brushed past, finding new energy to climb quickly to the next floor.

‘Hello, Jane.’

‘Hello, Jennifer.’ I spoke very quietly. Mrs Reed didn’t like it when we talked to other people.

‘Are you all right?’ She cast a quick glance up the stairs, but the Reeds were out of sight.

I nodded.

‘If you ever need me, you can come down and knock on my door. You know that, don’t you?’

Just as I nodded, I heard Mrs Reed calling me from above. ‘I have to go.’ I hurried up the stairs.

When I first came to live with the Reeds, I used to close my eyes at night and try to remember my mother’s face. But this night, as I lay in bed, safely behind my barricaded door, I closed my eyes and pictured Jennifer’s face. She was the only person who had been kind to me since I left the home I could no longer remember clearly. And that Sunday, in church, when I closed my eyes to pray to Our Lady, it was Jennifer’s face I saw. She was my personal angel. Gentle and kind like Mary, beautiful like my mother. I was drawn to her like nobody I’d ever met before.

Three days later, I was in my room after school doing my homework, when I heard Mrs Reed calling me. I brushed my hair and straightened my clothes, so that I’d be presentable. When I walked into the living room, Mrs Reed was sitting in her chair, looking angry. Another woman was standing by the open glass doors, looking out onto the balcony. She turned when I entered and smiled at me.

‘Hello, Jane. Do you remember me?’

I nodded. I could never forget her. It was the lady who had first brought me here, who took me away from my home. I nodded, my heart suddenly pounding. ‘Are you here to take me back to Mum?’

She didn’t answer. Instead she motioned me to join her in the doorway. Slowly I walked over. I didn’t step onto the balcony. The lady crouched down and studied my face. Then she looked at my hands. They were shaking.

‘You don’t like going onto the balcony, Jane, do you?’

I shook my head. ‘I don’t want to fall.’

‘Of course you don’t.’ She stood up and closed the doors. ‘So, Jane, tell me. Do you like school?’

I looked past the lady to where Mrs Reed was sitting. She had her eyes fixed on me and I knew if I said something bad, she would put me out on the balcony again.

‘School is nice.’ I said.

‘I thought there was some trouble there a little while ago. Trouble with boys.’

I shook my head.

‘That’s all right. It’s good that you like school. Do you like living here too? With your aunt and your cousins.’

I knew what I was supposed to say. ‘Yes.’

The woman looked at me for a very long time. She had brown eyes, and there were creases at the sides of her mouth. At last she stood up.

‘Thank you, Jane. You can go back to your room now, while I talk to your aunt.’

I sat on my bed, wondering what they were talking about. Then I heard the front door slam and I knew the woman was gone. Mrs Reed opened my bedroom door without knocking. She never knocked. The yelling started before she was even properly through the door.

‘How dare you be so ungrateful? You’ve been telling stories about us, haven’t you? Telling lies! And you brought that woman here, asking questions about me. And about my son. You will leave. As soon as I can make the arrangements, you will be out of my house for good.’

Hope leapt into my heart. ‘I can go home?’

‘Don’t be stupid. You have no home other than this one, this home that you choose to treat so badly.’

‘But Mum…’

‘I told you never to speak of her in this house.’ She took a deep breath in, and lowered her voice. ‘You, Jane Eyre, will go to boarding school, and just be grateful I am willing to spend so much money to get you away from here.’

Chapter 8

Betty

Betty was hungry as she stepped off the ship. She’d been hungry for weeks now, but this was different. Today they’d been told there was no time for breakfast because today was A Very Important Day. Today, the women said, they would start their new lives. Some of the children had cried. Some of them had asked if their parents would be there. The women had shaken their heads, and said that their parents were gone now. Betty hadn’t cried. Whenever Betty felt like tears were pricking at her eyes, she thought as hard as she could about the orange flames dancing in front of her and the sparks lighting the night sky, and flying away back to her real home. That always made her feel calm.

The sun beating down on the dockside made it easy for Betty to think of the fire. It felt hot on her face and she longed to peel off her cardigan and feel the warmth on her arms. But she had been told to keep her cardigan on, because her arms were already too brown. And she had a hat, too, that almost hid her hair. She followed the rest of the children along the concrete path and stopped in front of two big buses. A tall man in a neat grey suit stood in front of them. The women shushed them into near silence, before he started to speak.

‘It’s my honour to welcome all of you to Australia today. You’re here to help us build a brave, forward-thinking nation, filled with the right sort of people. You will learn to work the land. You will learn trades. You will grow up to have fine Australian children of your own. You have come on a great adventure to this great land. Work hard. Grow into decent young men and women, and Australia will become your home.’

Betty didn’t really listen to what he was saying. She didn’t understand a lot of it. She understood the heat beating down on her face. She understood the hunger in her belly. She understood that it was weeks and weeks since she’d got onto the ship and that, wherever she was now, it was not her home.

The women from the boat clapped politely as the man finished talking, and then they started quickly shoving the children into different queues. Betty felt a hand reach out and take hers. She looked up and saw Kay frowning down at her.

A moment later, the hand was pulled away. ‘Older girls on this bus. Little ones wait here.’

Betty concentrated hard on the warmth and the flickering flame inside her head. She heard Kay complain. ‘But I want to go with Betty.’

‘That’s not how it works.’

‘But…’

‘On the bus.’

For a second it looked like Kay would refuse. She sucked in a deep breath and folded her arms. The woman turned away from her and Betty watched her friend deflate like an old balloon.

‘It’s OK. When Daddy comes to get me, I’ll tell him we need to find you.’

Kay didn’t reply. She stepped forward and up the stairs onto the bus. She didn’t look back.

Betty waited until all the big children had been sorted onto buses, and then there were only four of them left. Three boys a year or so older than Betty, and Betty herself.

Betty heard whispers and muttering among the adults. She edged closer.

‘Just boys, you see…’

Betty moved even closer to get a better look. There were two men who looked like they had their white collars on backwards, like the priests back home did. Maybe they were priests too. The man in the grey suit who’d given the little speech was still there, with a woman in a smart pink dress clutching his hand. The woman stepped towards Betty.

‘This little thing?’ she asked incredulously. ‘This little one’s causing all the trouble?’

One of the priests nodded. ‘We only take boys. There weren’t any younger girls on the docket. She should have gone on the bus to the nuns.’

The other man shook his head. ‘That’s over eights.’

The woman squatted down and looked at Betty more closely. ‘How old are you, doll?’

‘Five.’

The woman nodded and turned her head away, suddenly blinking hard. She looked up at the smartly dressed man. ‘Charles?’

The man shook his head.

The woman stood. Betty listened carefully to their whispers. ‘Charles, you know I’ve always wanted a little girl.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

‘She’s pretty.’

‘She’s a…’ He stared at Betty. ‘I mean, look at that hair.’

One of the women from the boat interrupted. ‘The children don’t normally go to private homes.’

The other woman glanced at the watch on her wrist. ‘But Mr and Mrs Mason are very respectable people. I mean, he’s a councillor. That’s why they send him down for the welcome.’

The first woman stared at Betty and then back to the couple. ‘But one like her? I mean, she’s a…’

‘She’s a child who needs to go somewhere.’ The priest’s voice was cold. ‘And the Masons are very generous benefactors to our mission. It would be as if the girl was in our care…’

‘Like it says on the docket?’

‘Like it says on your docket, but living somewhere more appropriate for her…’ The priest glanced at Betty. ‘For someone like her.’

The smartly dressed man, Mr Mason, folded his arms. ‘I don’t know.’

His wife wasn’t listening anymore. She was leaning towards Betty, reaching out her hand as if to pet a charming puppy dog.

One of the women shrugged. ‘They’re excellent workers, though. With a bit of discipline.’

The man nodded. ‘And there are payments for her support?’

The grown-ups huddled around in deeper discussion. Betty turned her attention to Mrs Mason, who was looking at her with absolute delight. Betty smiled slightly. ‘What’s your name, darling?’

‘Betty.’

Mrs Mason frowned. ‘What’s that short for?’

Betty shrugged. Daddy had called her his little firefly because she burned brighter than anything else in the world. Mummy had said she was just Betty, and Elizabeth on Sundays. ‘Elizabeth on Sundays?’ she guessed.

‘Elizabeth. That’s better.’ She stared at Betty a bit longer. ‘But it’s a bit much for such a little thing. Eliza. Would you like to be Eliza?’

Betty shook her head, but the woman turned away and shouted over her shoulder. ‘Charles! We shall call her Eliza.’

Mr Mason broke away from the rest of the group. ‘She’ll have to earn her keep. Cooking and cleaning.’

Mrs Mason pursed her lips at her husband. ‘We’ll see about that.’ She turned back to Betty. ‘Come along, then, Eliza. I’m Mrs Mason. I’m going to be your new mummy.’

Chapter 9

Jane

I only saw Jennifer once more.

Two weeks after the visit from the child-welfare woman, Mrs Reed told me to pack all my things into an old suitcase because I was leaving to go to my new school. I was so happy to be escaping the Reeds, but I could not go without saying goodbye to Jennifer.

I sneaked out of the front door and darted down the stairs. I’d never normally dare, but I had to see her and what could Mrs Reed do now? She’d already decided to get rid of me.

I banged on Jennifer’s door, my heart pounding in my chest just as loudly as my knuckles on the wood. She was home.

‘Jane, is everything all right?’

‘I wanted to say goodbye.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘To boarding school.’

She smiled. ‘Well, I wish you all the best. Do come and see me when you are home for the holidays.’

I half-opened my mouth. There was so much more I wanted to say. Jennifer was my angel. I was desperate to leave the Reeds, but the idea of leaving her behind was so incredibly sad.

‘Jane. Jane Eyre. Come back here at once,’ Mrs Reed shouted from the landing above.

‘Goodbye.’ I threw myself at Jennifer, wrapping my arms around her. She patted me gently on the back and then stepped away.

‘Take care of yourself, Jane.’ And then the door swung closed.

‘Don’t keep me waiting, girl.’ Mrs Reed pouted. ‘Get your bag. It’s time you left. And I don’t want you to talk to that interfering woman again. Ever. Do you understand?’

‘Yes, Mrs Reed.’ For the first time in my life I realised that I’d told a lie. If I got a chance to see Jennifer, I knew that I would.

A taxi took Mrs Reed and I into the centre of the city, and pulled up in front of a large building. There were several big buses parked there, and people everywhere. A lot of them were carrying suitcases too. Mrs Reed told the taxi driver to wait for her.

She was leaving me here. I looked around at the crowds and the bustle and the strange faces. I didn’t want to be with Mrs Reed, but I was suddenly a little bit afraid of being alone in such a busy place.

‘Now, where is that teacher who’s supposed to meet you?’

When we found her, the teacher looked very old to me, with short grey hair and a narrow, pinched face. She looked at me through her glasses when we were introduced.

‘Bien. Come, child. Say your goodbyes to your mother and we will find our places on the bus. It is a very long way to Dubbo.’

‘She’s not…’

‘Behave yourself at school,’ Mrs Reed interrupted me. She looked at the floor for a second, and opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something more, but then she turned and walked away without once looking back.

The bus was not crowded, so the teacher left me sitting alone while she found her own seat. The journey took hours. We stopped a few times for people to get on and off, and to buy food and use the toilet at a petrol station. After a couple of hours, we were out of the city and driving through open spaces. I liked the open spaces. They reminded me of the home that I was starting to forget. I slept sometimes as the bus went on and on and on into the night.

The teacher shook me awake at last.

‘We are here, Jane Eyre. Come along.’

It was very dark and my head was still fuzzy with sleep as we walked up to the gates. I looked up and read the name of the school.

Our Lady of the Rosary Girls’ Boarding School.

A light over the gate gave off a soft golden glow as I walked beneath it. Perhaps here things would be better for me.

Chapter 10

Betty

‘Come and sit by me, Eliza.’ Betty squeezed onto the seat next to Mrs Mason. ‘That’s right. Sit by your mummy.’

Betty did as she was told. She didn’t remind Mrs Mason that she was not really her mummy. Or that her name was really Betty. She had learnt that Mrs Mason didn’t like it when she did that. Mrs Mason liked to have her close by, and liked to be called Mummy. She liked hugs and kisses. And if Betty did all those things, she was given treats and pretty clothes. And she could avoid Mr Mason and his son. That was something else she had learnt in the past weeks, or was it months? It was best to stay away from them.

Mrs Mason opened a magazine on her lap, circling one arm around Betty to keep the magazine open in front of them both. The magazines Mrs Mason bought had pictures of women who looked like Mrs Mason, living in houses that looked like the Masons’ house. She liked to show Betty the pictures and tell her about what was in style and what was out. Today the magazine was open at a recipe page. ‘We need to pick the dessert for Mr Mason’s dinner on Friday. There are important people coming. What do you think?’

Betty peered at the pictures before thrusting a stubby finger at the one that looked the most chocolatey.

Mrs Mason scanned the text. ‘Golliwog Biscuit Cake?’

Betty nodded.

‘And will you help make it?’

‘Yes.’

Mrs Mason tickled Betty’s tummy. ‘Good girl. I’ll let you lick the bowl.’

Mr Mason strode into the room. ‘Is our son home yet? Where’s Richard?’ He stopped. ‘Why do you always have that little thing sitting right on top of you? She should be making herself useful.’

Mrs Mason pursed her lips. ‘She is. She’s helping me plan supper for Friday evening. We’re going to make Golliwog Biscuit Cake.’

‘Don’t be stupid, woman. You can’t serve that to my guests. Make a proper dessert.’

Betty shrank back a little, trying to hide behind Mrs Mason like she always did when Mr Mason was home.