Книга - The Other Wife: A sweeping historical romantic drama tinged with obsession and suspense

The Other Wife: A sweeping historical romantic drama tinged with obsession and suspense
Juliet Bell


Don’t miss this sweeping historical epic, perfect for fans of Gill Paul and Dinah Jeffries.Outback Australia, 1981After a terrible childhood, Jane comes to Thornfield as nanny to the adorable Adele, watched over by the handsome and enigmatic Edward. Plain and inexperienced, Jane would never dream of being more than his hired help. But swept up in the dramatic beauty of the Outback, she finds herself drawn to Edward. And, to her surprise, he seems to return her feelings.But Jane is not the first woman Edward has pledged to make mistress of Thornfield.As a child, Betty was taken from her English home and sent for adoption in Australia. At first, no-one wanted her, deeming her hair too curly, and her skin too dark. Until the scheming Mr Mason sees a chance to use Betty to cement a relationship with the rich and powerful Rochester dynasty…When Jane discovers Betty’s fate, will she still want to be the next Mrs Rochester?Readers LOVE Juliet Bell:‘I want to buy a copy for every book lover I know!’‘A fantastically absorbing read’‘It is gripping and dark and an absolute triumph!!’‘Brilliantly done. Can’t wait for the next book!’‘I would thoroughly recommend this book and have no hesitation in awarding it the richly deserved 5 stars.’‘Edgy and compelling update of a classic’









About the Author (#ue59182d9-3078-5684-977f-eec3ab1c33a7)


JULIET BELL is the collaborative pen name of respected authors Janet Gover and Alison May.

Juliet was born at a writers’ conference, with a chance remark about heroes who are far from heroic. She was raised on pizza and wine during many long working lunches, and finished her first novel over cloud storage and skype in 2017.

Juliet shares Janet and Alison’s preoccupation with misunderstood classic fiction, and stories that explore the darker side of relationships.

Alison also writes commercial women’s fiction and romantic comedies and can be found at www.alison-may.co.uk (http://www.alison-may.co.uk)

Janet writes contemporary romantic adventures mostly set in outback Australia and can be found at www.janetgover.com (http://www.janetgover.com)




Outback Australia, 1981 (#ue59182d9-3078-5684-977f-eec3ab1c33a7)


After a terrible childhood, Jane comes to Thornfield as nanny to the adorable Adele, watched over by the handsome and enigmatic Edward. Plain and inexperienced, Jane would never dream of being more than his hired help. But swept up in the dramatic beauty of the Outback, she finds herself drawn to Edward. And, to her surprise, he seems to return her feelings.

But Jane is not the first woman Edward has pledged to make mistress of Thornfield.

As a child, Betty was taken from her English home and sent for adoption in Australia. At first, no-one wanted her, deeming her hair too curly, and her skin too dark. Until the scheming Mr Mason sees a chance to use Betty to cement a relationship with the rich and powerful Rochester dynasty…

When Jane discovers Betty’s fate, will she still want to be the next Mrs Rochester?




Readers LOVE Juliet Bell: (#ue59182d9-3078-5684-977f-eec3ab1c33a7)


‘I want to buy a copy for every book lover I know!’

‘A fantastically absorbing read’

‘It is gripping and dark and an absolute triumph!!’

‘Brilliantly done. Can’t wait for the next book!’

‘I would thoroughly recommend this book and have no hesitation in awarding it the richly deserved 5 stars.’

‘Edgy and compelling update of a classic’




Also by Juliet Bell (#ue59182d9-3078-5684-977f-eec3ab1c33a7)


The Heights




The Other Wife

JULIET BELL








HQ

An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.

1 London Bridge Street

London SE1 9GF

First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2018

Copyright © Juliet Bell 2018

Juliet Bell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

E-book Edition © November 2018 ISBN: 9780008284503

Version: 2018-10-26


Table of Contents

Cover (#u611fc5ca-6dd1-57ea-b2e9-38e68d6608c2)

About the Author (#u964aa734-e4b3-5d36-a968-ef295191336c)

Outback Australia, 1981 (#u5409e37a-f7e4-5507-934e-874babd46bac)

Readers Love Juliet Bell: (#u30649e04-b544-51ff-adc5-e4ad209e668c)

Also by Juliet Bell (#u02685fff-b993-5f43-bad6-db7ee1087296)

Title Page (#ua5dcb933-4735-5d31-8637-73a6e5df3d3f)

Copyright (#ue3a8796e-3015-5a93-9620-01dcfa2e0f18)

Dedication (#u32ba4ae9-4810-5969-9e64-6bee93b23c15)



According to Legend… (#uae995ffd-d9fd-5a18-984d-d6e321975af7)



Part One (#u354223f8-1c72-57d4-8d3f-51f7fdbb816b)



Chapter 1 (#u9b0ba388-426b-54e5-b93d-0dc4dc1c67d9)



Chapter 2 (#uf7798e51-f548-56ab-b89f-5a09c4d5b51c)



Chapter 3 (#u1c4a7c7d-8e1d-577e-b253-1597044644b2)



Chapter 4 (#ub146cb03-b439-5cd8-96f6-23568d72e029)



Chapter 5 (#u646784a4-9cf1-56ad-b4a4-64f2b4acfecb)



Chapter 6 (#uadce4251-6697-53df-99e3-ebcf0729194d)



Chapter 7 (#uf34d07fa-3124-5d76-8a4a-0aebfb267a63)



Chapter 8 (#u7c6eeb10-b2c6-5dd3-bc44-a84cedfcb3d5)



Chapter 9 (#ueb6bfbe1-2e91-5072-9914-3291510e9aef)



Chapter 10 (#u78c1ac62-5058-5f33-993c-4f4a76dc4cae)



Chapter 11 (#uf4c4005b-fc44-562b-bd52-8eb5afb1b34a)



Chapter 12 (#u9ab8bda7-275d-5a8f-aed0-b56a313b14df)



Chapter 13 (#u3edb6333-9008-5b63-b59b-5b3d8a352936)



Chapter 14 (#ue1e7d5e2-5def-50dd-89bb-48ed13d678a5)



Chapter 15 (#ubb7a4ee5-c868-5d46-b133-26f0f9e820ed)



Chapter 16 (#u8fe9415c-8646-5ec4-a350-29d7f8b617ed)



Chapter 17 (#uffe8aa45-4c7d-5a82-91a2-7b061b510ce2)



Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 24 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 25 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 26 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 27 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 28 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 29 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 30 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 31 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 32 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 33 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 34 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 35 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 36 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 37 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 38 (#litres_trial_promo)



Part Two (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 39 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 40 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 41 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 42 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 43 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 44 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 45 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 46 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 47 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 48 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 49 (#litres_trial_promo)



Part Three (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 50 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 51 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 52 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 53 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 54 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 55 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 56 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 57 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 58 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 59 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 60 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 61 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 62 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 63 (#litres_trial_promo)



Chapter 64 (#litres_trial_promo)



Acknowledgements (#litres_trial_promo)



Keep Reading … (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)



About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)


To Charlotte




According to legend… (#ulink_97278a2c-94e5-5871-b57f-7ac573e40065)


The land was empty until the great snake came. He roamed over all the land and, when he slept, deep pools of water formed and flowed into the channels left by his passing. These became the river. As the snake moved from waterhole to waterhole, rainbows formed in the sky.

The lightning man, who the first people would call Namarrgon, came after the serpent. When he was angry, he hurled his spears of light into the ground and woke the fire.

Thousands of years ago, when the first people came to the land, they used the fire. In small groups they moved across the plains, hunting their food and gathering around fires at night to sing and dance, and tell stories of the Dreaming. Sometimes the fire escaped. The trees and the grass burned, and the animals burned. But always the land survived and the first people trusted that the Rainbow Serpent would bring the water back. The plants would grow again. The animals would return and the first men would follow them.

Everything changed when the white men came.

They had tamed the fire. They brought it in guns and trapped it inside the houses that they built, houses that got bigger and stronger as the years passed. They brought new animals too and claimed the land for them. The native animals were driven away by these strange big beasts, just as the first men were driven away by the white men.

In the middle of this plain, a white man built a great stone house. Around that house, there were small buildings and yards for the animals, and, down by the river, the first men had their camp. Sometimes the first men talked of taking back the land that had been theirs. Until then, they worked that land for the white man and for his sons and their sons.

Now the land is dotted with fire. At night, the light gleams from the windows of the white man’s big house and figures can be seen moving. There are lights in the other buildings where the white men work and eat and sleep. And small fires still burn where the first men sit by the river and tell their tales.

But, tonight the fire has escaped and it has taken the big stone house in the middle of the plain. The first men and the white men will try to capture it again. But when the fire is set free, it burns until there is nothing left at all.



PART ONE (#ulink_6db23fde-2292-5195-9d9e-cddc7d641a67)




Chapter 1 (#ulink_64645440-9efc-5db3-bbda-b13988264432)


Sydney, Australia. 1966

Jane

I was scared. This was my first time in Sydney. My first time in any big city. It was also my first time away from the place where my mother and I had lived since I was a baby. Even looking out of the window of the car was overwhelming – the size of the buildings, the number of cars, the rush and hurry all around me. I sank back into my seat until the car finally stopped and I couldn’t hide any longer.

‘Come on now, child.’ The woman sitting next to me poked me none too gently in the ribs. ‘Get out of the car.’

My new home was a huge mountain of red brick. I strained my neck, trying to see how very high it really went. It seemed to reach up almost to the clouds. I desperately wanted to go home. To my friends. To my mother. To the way things were before the police came.

I stared up at the building again. It was truly huge. I would get lost inside it, just as I was lost in this city. The buildings that towered over me seemed to lean in on each other, and there was nothing green. No trees, not even a blade of grass. I hoped I wouldn’t have to stay here long. Mum must be coming back soon to take me home to the place with the space and the grass and all the people I knew.

The woman took my two small bags from the back of the car. I didn’t own many things. At home everything was shared, so I didn’t need my own things. The woman in the car had told me there were other children in this house. My cousins. Maybe I would share with them now.

When we got to the big front door, I pushed it. It didn’t open. I tried to pull it, but that didn’t work either. The door stayed shut. Puzzled, I looked up at the woman. She rolled her eyes as she reached out to press a button in the wall.

‘Yes?’ The voice was loud and harsh.

‘Child Welfare.’

For a long time there was no answer. ‘All right.’

I jumped as a loud buzz and a thunk sounded from the door in front of me.

‘Well, don’t just stand there. Open the door.’

‘But…’

‘Open it.’

I pushed the door hard, and this time it moved.

It was dark inside after the bright sunlight in the street. There was a big staircase made of wood that seemed to go forever.

The woman carrying my bags went and stood in front of another door. There were more strange sounds, and that door slid open, revealing a very small room.

‘Come on, Jane.’ She was starting to sound impatient.

I followed her into the box. I didn’t mind small places. That was why I almost always won when we played hide and seek. I was little and could fit into the tiniest places. The door slid shut all on its own. I almost screamed when I felt the little room start to move.

‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ the woman said. ‘It’s only a lift. Your aunt is on the top storey. Far too many floors to use the stairs, especially in this heat.’

Mum had told me to be brave, so I tried to pretend I wasn’t frightened as the lift went up and up and up.

When the lift stopped moving, the doors opened again and I jumped out quickly, in case it fell back down to the ground. There was only one other door that I could see. The woman nodded and I tried to open it.

She sighed, before rapping forcefully on the door with her knuckles.

It was opened by a big woman. She had short brown hair and dark eyes. Her dress was grey, with no colours or pattern. Everything about her was so very different to my mum, with her long blonde hair and her pretty clothes and big light skirts that swayed as she walked and ran. The woman peered down at me for a second without smiling. Then she stepped back. ‘You’d better come in.’

The room was so pretty that, for a minute, I almost forgot to be scared. There were bright swirling patterns on the walls and a deep carpet that made me want to take my shoes off and let my toes curl into the softness. Everything in the room was new and shiny and clean. There were lace curtains around a big window, and I could see the sky. I felt a bit better then. I had been afraid that in this big brick house, I wouldn’t be able to see the sky. There were coloured shiny things on a shelf. I stood on my tiptoes to reach them.

‘Jane. Don’t touch that. Come back here!’ The big woman’s voice was loud and screechy. Had I done something wrong?

She looked me up and down. ‘I am your Aunt … I’m Mrs Reed. You’re going to be staying here with us, Jane.’

I nodded, but I didn’t say anything.

Mrs Reed stared at me, apparently expecting something more. She turned to the woman who had brought me here. ‘Is there something wrong with her?’

‘I’m sure she’s just nervous,’ the woman said. ‘I’m sure she’s a very bright child, really.’

‘We’ll see about that. Jane, take your bags to your room. It’s down that corridor. The last door on the right. You do know right from left, don’t you?’

I nodded.

The last door led to a little room, with a bed and some drawers. I put my bags on the bed. It was a pretty room. The bedclothes were pale pink, and felt soft under my fingers.

‘That’s my old stuff.’

I turned around to see two big children standing in the doorway. The girl was a bit older than me and had dark hair and a little button nose. The boy was even older. These must be the cousins I’d been told about.

‘Thank you for sharing your things with me.’

‘I’m not sharing anything with you,’ the girl said. ‘Mum said you could have my old stuff, but don’t ever touch anything of mine. Ever.’

‘Or mine,’ her brother said quietly. ‘We didn’t ask you here. We don’t want you here. We hate you.’

I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. I wanted Mum to be proud of me for being brave.

‘I didn’t want to come here either,’ I said.

‘Don’t you talk to me like that!’ His face went pink with anger.

I took a deep breath. ‘Mum says everybody should share everything. It’s mean if you don’t.’

He parroted my words back at me in silly sing-song voice. ‘Everybody should share everything.’

His sister laughed.

The boy continued. ‘You’re not on that hippy farm anymore. Things are different here. This is a proper family, not your druggie commune. You’ll have to behave yourself now.’

I didn’t know what he meant, but I was suddenly very, very frightened. ‘But I’m going back there? Soon?’

‘Don’t be silly.’ Mrs Reed appeared in the doorway. ‘The police have shut the whole place down. Thank goodness. The things that were going on there. Drugs. Free love. God knows where my sister is by now. And with who. She’s not fit to look after a child.’ Her lips pursed. ‘She probably doesn’t even know who your father is.’

‘She wouldn’t go anywhere without me!’ Mum had always been there. Other people had come and gone but Mum had never left me. Never.

The woman who had come with me in the car was standing behind Mrs Reed, her bag over her shoulder. ‘Jane, we explained this. Your mother isn’t allowed to look after you anymore. The police have closed the commune down. Some people have gone to jail.’

I shook my head. Nobody had explained anything. ‘But…’

The woman had already turned away. Mrs Reed followed her along the corridor and a second later I heard the door open and slam shut.

Mrs Reed marched back into the room.

I jumped up. I was desperate. Nobody had said anything about Mum going away. ‘Mum wouldn’t leave me. You have to find out what happened to her.’

‘Enough.’ Mrs Reed folded her arms. ‘You’re my niece, so I won’t have people saying I turned you away, however glad I might be to be rid of you, but in my house you live by my rules. And the first rule is this – you do not ever mention my slut of a sister again.’

‘But she’s going to come and get me…’

‘No. Understand this, Jane Eyre. Your mother will never set foot in this house, and you will never see her again.’




Chapter 2 (#ulink_f4044a73-4e63-5e0a-b7f4-6d571855bad1)


York, England. 1966

Betty

Betty ran out of Mrs Oakley’s house at a quarter past five like always, but it wasn’t Mummy standing waiting for her. Instead her father bent down to talk to her as she came towards him. ‘Hello, little firefly. I’m picking you up today because Mummy’s had to go away for a little while.’

Betty frowned. Mummy always picked her up. She said it was easier that way because Daddy had to work and sometimes people got funny when he came out with them. The front door to Mrs Oakley’s neat little house was still open, while the childminder watched her charges go on their way. ‘Mr Earl?’

He turned towards the voice. ‘Mrs O. What can I do for you?’

‘Is Pam not well?’

‘No. No. She had to go away for a bit.’ He lowered his voice. ‘For her nerves.’

‘Right.’ Mrs Oakley looked away somewhere over Betty’s father’s shoulder, not at his face. ‘Well, I’ll be happy to have the bairn back once her mum’s all better and can drop her round.’

Betty felt her daddy’s hand rest on the top of her head. His voice was quieter than usual. ‘It’s all right. I’m working on the production line at the moment. Regular shifts, so I can bring her before work.’

Mrs Oakley glanced from side to side at the neat little houses that butted up against hers, and the other parents who were picking up their children. They chatted to each other, but none of them spoke to Betty’s father. They didn’t even look at him.

‘I don’t think so. It’s not really…’ She stepped back into the hallway. ‘Not really right for you in this area.’

Betty’s father’s voice raised now. ‘But she’s my daughter.’

‘Well, yes, but…’ Mrs Oakley peered around the door at Betty. ‘You’d not really know, would you? She takes from her mother.’

The door swung closed with a definite thud. Betty’s father stood very still for a moment. The net curtain at the window of the house next to Mrs Oakley’s twitched slightly. Daddy took her hand. ‘Come on, Betty girl. We’ll get a fish supper and listen to records. Shall we?’

Betty nodded. She didn’t like fish, but, when Mummy wasn’t there, Daddy let her pull the crispy batter off with her fingers and just eat that dipped in the bright green mushy peas. She leant against Daddy’s hip while they waited in the chip queue. ‘Will Mummy be coming back soon?’

‘I hope so, little firefly. I hope so.’ He clapped his hands together. ‘And until then we’ll need to find someone to keep an eye on you while I’m at work.’

‘Good. I don’t like it at Mrs Oakley’s. Sometimes they look at me strangely.’

She felt her father tense for a second, then he stroked her crisp red-brown curls. ‘That’s only because they don’t understand that you are special, my bright little firefly.’

Betty leant more closely into his body.

‘It’ll be all right. We’ll work something out,’ he said.

The next morning, Betty clung to her father’s hand outside a big red-brick house that she thought she sort of recognised.

‘Do you remember coming here, little firefly?’

Betty shook her head.

‘This is your grandpa and grandma’s house.’

She followed her father up the driveway and stood half behind his legs while he rang the bell.

The door was opened by a tall man with thick black-framed glasses and a big moustache.

‘Mr Thompson…’ Daddy started.

‘What are you doing here?’

‘I … Can we come in?’

The man shook his head. ‘I’ll not have you upsetting Pam’s mother.’

‘Right. Well, it’s Pam. She’s in the hospital. The Retreat.’

The man folded his arms.

‘And Betty…’ Betty felt her father step to one side so the man could see her properly. ‘I’ve no-one to watch her while I’m at work and so…’

‘And so you thought you’d turn up here like nothing had happened.’

‘No. I …’

‘We were quite clear when Pamela made her decision. We’re happy to take her back and we’ll look after the girl. You can leave her here right now and go off and get on with your life.’

Betty’s father reached down and took hold of her hand. ‘I won’t abandon my child. If you could just take care of her for a few hours.’

The man on the doorstep calmly shook his head. ‘We’ll take her and we’ll raise her properly. But we will not have you coming to this house. Make your choice.’

Betty glanced up at her father. His face was creased with emotions that she didn’t understand. He knelt down next to her. ‘Would you like to stay here, Betty?’

‘’Til you come back?’

Her daddy screwed his eyes shut for a second like Betty did sometimes when she was trying not to cry. When he opened them again, he reached out and cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘Don’t worry, little firefly. It was a silly idea. Daddy won’t leave you anywhere…’

Betty didn’t hear the rest of his sentence. Her own wail drowned it out. Even the idea of him leaving her was too much to hold inside her head. Mummy had to go away, but Daddy was still here. She flung herself against his body, throwing her arms around his neck. His hands wrapped straight around her, lifting her up as he stood. ‘Well, that’s settled, then.’

She buried her face in his neck.

‘We’ll be going.’

She let him carry her back down the driveway and into the street. Eventually he put her down next to a shiny red telephone box. ‘I just need to telephone the office at work, and then we’ll go to the park. Feed the ducks.’

Betty beamed. A whole day out with Daddy was so exciting. And maybe tomorrow Mummy would come back and everything would be normal again.




Chapter 3 (#ulink_67bf9e57-c707-52d1-9f0e-f555281c6a05)


Jane

It was so quiet when I woke up. At home, it was never quiet. There were always people running around, dogs barking, and children laughing. And seagulls, because we all lived near the beach. But in this new place, it was very, very quiet. I guess that was because there was only me and Mrs Reed and my two cousins. That’s not many people for such a big house.

I got out of bed and put my clothes on. My tummy rumbled as I did, so I left my tiny room with its pretty pink bedspread, and went in search of breakfast. I hoped the Reeds had cereal and milk.

I found the milk in the fridge, and put it on the bench. I started opening cupboards and found a bowl, but there was no food. I looked up at the cupboards above my head. I would need a chair to stand on. I found chairs around a big polished wooden table in another room and dragged one into the kitchen.

I took a deep breath then I climbed on the chair. I kept one hand on the back of the chair, and quickly grabbed the cupboard handle until the room stopped swirling around me. I didn’t like high places. Mum always kept the cereal in the low cupboards so I didn’t have to stand on chairs. I hoped Mrs Reed would do the same if I asked her. But until then, I told myself, I really could do this. And besides, I was hungry.

When I felt better and opened the cupboard nearest to me, there were biscuits. Lots and lots of biscuits. Biscuits were much better than cereal and milk. I dropped two packets of chocolate biscuits onto the bench and then climbed down off the chair. I was eating my second biscuit when I heard a familiar noise from outside.

There were seagulls here in the city too. That was exciting. I hadn’t expected to see any birds or animals at all.

I grabbed a couple more biscuits and ran out of the kitchen into the big living room. The seagulls must be out there, through the big glass doors where I could see the sky. It took me a couple of tries to get the door open, but finally the latch clicked and I jumped through the door.

The sky was right in front of me. There were no people, or trees, or cars, or even buildings to break up the big blue open sky. I glanced down and my tummy twisted. I was looking down onto the tops of the buildings across the street and then below that the road was a tiny slither of grey a million miles below me.

I was going to fall. I was going to fall until I was as small as the people in the miniature cars beneath me. The ground was so far away, and the sky was spinning around and around me. I grabbed at the nearest thing I could reach. A little basketwork chair. But that didn’t help, the chair fell too and I dropped onto the hard tile floor with the chair on top of me.

All I wanted to do was crawl back through the big glass doors to a place where I was safe from falling. The chair was light. I should have been able to lift it off myself quite easily, but it wouldn’t budge. Something, someone, was holding it down. I wriggled as much as I could and caught a glimpse of a pair of feet; feet that were still safely on the soft carpet.

‘Help me up.’

The feet didn’t move. There was the sound of laughter.

‘Please…’ I pushed against the chair.

‘What is going on here?’ At last someone lifted the chair out of the way. A rough hand grabbed me by the arm and hauled me to my feet. I darted back into the room where it was safe, backing away from the open door, trying very hard not to cry.

My cousin John was standing just inside the door. He was smiling, not a friendly smile, but a nasty, tight smile. It was the sort of smile I had never seen before. Nobody at home smiled like that.

‘What on earth were you doing out there at this hour of the morning? Come on, girl. Stop your snivelling.’ Mrs Reed towered over me, and, try as I might, I could not stop sobbing. My whole body was shaking with fear.

‘What’s that in your hand?’ Mrs Reed grabbed my closed hand and slowly prised the fingers opened to reveal the broken biscuit still tightly clutched inside.

‘Have you been stealing food?’

‘Stealing? No! I don’t steal.’ My sobs stopped.

‘This …’ Mrs Reed slapped my hand and broken bits of biscuit fell onto the soft clean carpet. ‘You took this from the cupboard, didn’t you?’

I nodded. Of course I took it from the cupboard. That’s what we always did at home. It wasn’t stealing. You took what you needed and everybody shared. ‘I was hungry…’

‘Hungry? Selfish child. You can’t just take food when you want too. Stealing is a sin. And today is Sunday. We go to church on Sundays and we don’t eat anything before we go to church. You will be praying for God’s forgiveness. You wicked, ungrateful girl.’

‘I’m not wicked!’

The slap was as sudden as it was painful. I staggered backwards, clutching my stinging cheek. My eyes filled with tears all over again. No-one had ever hit me before, not even my mother.

‘We will not mention this incident again. Go to your room and get ready for church.’

I went to my room.

In the mirror in my room I could see that my right cheek was red where Mrs Reed had slapped me. I had to get ready for church. I’d never been to church before. I wasn’t really sure what church was, but I decided to put on the best dress I’d brought with me. Maybe then Mrs Reed would see that I was trying to be good. I turned to get it and saw that John Reed was standing in my open doorway, with that same smile on his face again. He was eating a chocolate biscuit.




Chapter 4 (#ulink_18668f07-40ce-5b2b-9ecf-8aa3db146b4f)


Betty

Betty sat quietly next to Daddy in the cold office. The chair had scratchy material on it and she wriggled in her seat to try to pull her dress down to cover her legs. The grown-ups were talking in low, quiet voices.

‘So it will only be for a few weeks. Less than that probably. Her mother…’ Daddy turned his head and smiled at Betty. ‘She can’t look after her just at the moment, but when she’s back everything will be all right again.’

The man opposite Daddy on the other side of the big desk nodded curtly. Betty swung her legs while the two men filled in forms and signed papers. Then Daddy lifted her up out of the seat. ‘So you’re going to have a lovely holiday here with lots of other children. And me and Mummy will come back and get you really soon.’

Betty’s bottom lip started to quiver. ‘Do I have to go? I want to stay with you.’

‘Really, really soon. I promise, little firefly. All right?’

Daddy’s eyes looked like he was about to cry. Betty rested her head on his shoulder. ‘It’s OK, Daddy.’

He took a deep breath and smiled as he set her down on the ground. ‘That’s right. You need to be very brave for me and remember that everything’s OK. I love you, but while Mummy is away, I can’t keep you with me. As soon as Mummy comes home, I’ll come back. I promise.’

The stranger ushered Daddy out of the office and Betty was alone.

A few minutes later, a lady came into the room and picked up Betty’s little case. ‘Come on.’

She followed the lady along long white corridors and into a big bedroom with lots of beds in it. The lady popped her case on one of them. ‘You’ll be here. You can put your things in here.’ She pointed at a cupboard next to the bed. ‘Quickly now. Chop-chop!’

She flicked the case open and started lifting Betty’s things into the cupboard. Betty watched. It seemed silly. She’d just have to put them all back in her case very soon when Daddy came back.

Betty couldn’t count how many days and nights she was in the home. She slept in a big room with other children. Little ones, like Betty, at one end, and bigger girls further down. She didn’t like having so many people sleeping in the same room. Some of the girls cried at night, and that made Betty want to cry too. During the day they did chores, and the bigger girls did reading. Whatever she was doing, Betty waited. She waited for Mummy and Daddy to come back and take her home. So when one of the ladies who usually looked after the little babies, came and told her to bring her coat and hat, and her little suitcase with her pyjamas and hairbrush, she thought it was time.

She climbed into the back of the car waiting outside and was surprised to find two boys, both a couple of years older than her, already sitting there. The lady sat in the front with the driver, who was the man from the office from the very first day. He looked over into the back seat and frowned when he saw Betty.

‘What’s she doing here? We’re only supposed to send white children.’

‘She’s white enough.’

‘She’s half-breed. You saw her father.’

‘I did. But they won’t. And if you didn’t know, you’d think she was white, wouldn’t you?’

The driver turned around and stared directly at Betty. ‘She’s got that hair.’

‘Well, stick it under her hat when we get there and tell her not to say anything.’

Betty patted her hair. It had tight little curls like Daddy’s but in the sunshine it looked ginger like Mummy’s. Daddy said it was special. Daddy said her hair shone like a beautiful flame.

Betty felt her stomach flip. ‘Where are we going?’

‘On an adventure.’

‘Will my mummy and daddy be there?’

The woman twisted in her seat to look at Betty. ‘Your mummy and daddy are gone. We’re sending you somewhere that you’re wanted. You’ll have a far better home than with … him. Now be quiet.’ Betty did as she was told. She stared out of the window trying to remember the places they were driving past so she could find her way back, but they drove for too long and eventually it got dark. Betty’s eyes fell closed.

When she opened them again, the car had stopped. Rain was lashing down, which meant nobody thought it was odd that the woman rammed Betty’s hat onto her head and tucked her hair away inside. ‘Come on now.’

Betty was dragged along by the woman’s tight grip on her hand. The two boys ran along behind. They were by the sea, but not the seaside like when Mummy and Daddy had taken her for a day out on the beach at Scarborough. There was no beach here, just buildings and the ships were much bigger than the fishing boats Daddy had taken her to see. The woman stopped in front of a man with a clipboard, who ticked some items off his list and then pointed them towards a metal bridge leading to the biggest ship Betty had ever seen. She couldn’t get on a ship. Ships went over the sea. If she went over the sea, Mummy and Daddy would never find her. ‘But my daddy’s coming back for me.’

The woman folded her arms. ‘You’re going somewhere much nicer. Now, on you get. Chop-chop. Off on an adventure.’

There was a sharp shove in her back and Betty had no choice but to follow the wave of tiny bodies making their way onto the boat.




Chapter 5 (#ulink_2f54652b-55ff-5718-987d-1ec10fbf52c0)


Jane

Church soon became the best part of my life. On Sundays we would walk up to church. It was a beautiful old building with stone arches and a statue of Jesus at the front door. There was a routine to church, and order of things. At church, nobody would shout or point out what I was doing wrong. At church I could listen to the words of the priest and look at the pictures in the windows and above the altar. Christ on the cross. Mary with her baby. According to the priest she was kind and the most loving of mothers. In the big window she was gathering little children of all nations to her. Sometimes I wished I could step into that picture and be gathered up, safe and loved, far, far away from Mrs Reed.

Each night I knelt beside my bed, and Mrs Reed stood in the doorway and listened to my prayers. I had to thank God that I had a home with her. I had to pray for my cousins, John and Emma. I had to pray for forgiveness for all my wickedness. After Mrs Reed was gone, I always got back on my knees and prayed for my mother. The night before my seventh birthday I prayed extra hard that she would come and find me.

The next morning I got up, wondering if there would be presents on the breakfast table or if I’d have to wait until evening. Mrs Reed hadn’t asked me what I wanted to do, but I imagined a trip to the beach, like I’d done on my other birthdays, when the whole community had joined me and Mum for a picnic.

There were no presents on the breakfast table.

There was no day at the beach.

There were no presents after school, either.

At bedtime, before I knelt down to say my prayers, I took a deep breath in and asked Mrs Reed, ‘Did you know it was my birthday?’

The woman frowned, but didn’t answer my question. ‘I don’t have time for silliness like that, Jane. Go on, say your prayers.’

That night, in my head, I asked God to take me away from the Reeds.

Two weeks later, Mrs Reed came into my room before breakfast and told me to put my best clothes on because we were going to the cinema. ‘It’s Emma’s birthday day out,’ she said.

Emma had grown out of a very pretty yellow dress that was now my smartest outfit. I pulled off my pyjamas and was taking the pretty yellow dress out of my wardrobe when I heard a noise. John was standing in my doorway. He was looking at me in the strangest way. I pulled the dress off the hanger and held it in front of my body. ‘What are you doing in here?’

‘You can’t hide from me, you know.’ He was still smiling as he stepped into the room.

‘Go away!’ I spoke softly. I always spoke softly. Mrs Reed didn’t like shouting.

‘You can’t make me.’ He took another step into my room.

‘Go away.’ I backed away from him, but there was nowhere I could go.

‘This is my house and I’ll do whatever I want.’ He was eleven years old, and much bigger than me. I made to duck past him to run to the bathroom, but he stepped sideways and blocked my way, grabbing my bare shoulders.

‘Leave me alone.’ I slapped his hands away. Something was very wrong, but I didn’t really know what.

‘What’s going on in here?’ Mrs Reed was in the hallway outside the room. She saw my body. ‘Jane!’

‘She called me to come in here,’ John said, the same half-smile still on his face. ‘And when I did, she took her clothes off.’

Mrs Reed paled. ‘John, leave the room. I’ll deal with this.’

‘That’s not what happened,’ I explained as he walked away. ‘I didn’t…’

‘Not one more word from you.’ Mrs Reed paced up and down the floor two, and then three times, before she turned to face me. ‘You’re not pretty, Jane.’

‘What?’

‘You’re like me. Not like your mother. She always had every boy in the town after her. And she let them, you know.’ She scowled. ‘I thought without her pretty face you might be different. I thought I might be able to teach you how to behave before it was too late, but the apple never falls far from the tree after all.’

‘I didn’t. John’s lying…’

My words were cut off by the crack of her hand across my cheek. ‘Never ever blame my son for your dirtiness. Now get dressed.’

I lifted the pretty yellow frock to pull it over my head, but Mrs Reed snatched it away from me.

‘Not this. You can’t have Emma’s pretty things until you show you deserve them.’ She took an old brown dress from my cupboard. ‘Put this on.’

When I was dressed, she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me through the house. ‘You’ve spoiled this day for all of us,’ she said. ‘Apologise to poor John and to Emma. We can’t go for her birthday treat now. I will not leave you alone in this house and you certainly can’t come with us.’

Emma immediately started to wail and stamp her feet.

‘Why don’t we leave her on the balcony?’ John said slowly. ‘There’s nothing she can steal or break out there.’

I froze. The balcony was a place of horror. There was nothing but that thin railing between me and the ground far below. I’d often sat just inside, desperate for a view of the sky, but I hadn’t set foot on the balcony since that first morning. ‘No. Please. I didn’t do what he said…’

‘I told you not to lie.’ Mrs Reed dragged me towards the glass doors. ‘Well, you will stay out there and think about your sin. John’s right. Why should you be allowed to spoil Emma’s day?’

She thrust me through the door and I fell onto the tiles. On the other side of the glass doors, the family walked out of the apartment and slammed the front door closed behind them.

I crawled back towards the wall and squeezed myself into the corner, where I couldn’t see the edge of the balcony, or the rail or the long fall below it. I sat there for a very long time. At first I tried not to cry. I knew Mum would want me to be brave, but Mum wasn’t here. It was just me. Completely abandoned, completely alone. I stopped fighting and let the tears come.

‘Are you all right?’

The voice seemed to come from out of the sky. It was soft and kind and full of gentleness.

‘Are you Our Lady?’

‘No.’ The voice laughed. ‘I heard you crying. Are you all right?’

The voice floated towards me on the breeze. ‘Then are you an angel?’

The voice laughed again. ‘No. I’m Jennifer. I’m standing on my balcony, downstairs from you. Are you Jane? I’ve heard about you, but we’ve never met.’

I hadn’t heard about her, but then Mrs Reed didn’t like the people in the building and didn’t talk to them very often.

‘Are you all right, Jane? Have you locked yourself out on the balcony?’

‘No. Mrs Reed puts me here. When I do bad things.’

‘Is she there with you?’

‘No. They went out.’

There was a long pause. I pressed my back harder against the wall, screwing my eyes closed and not thinking about the drop below. ‘Are you still there?’

‘I’m here. Would you like me to stay here until Mrs Reed comes home? You can talk to me and tell me all about yourself.’

‘Yes, please.’ I wasn’t quite so scared any more.




Chapter 6 (#ulink_f470fd84-1866-5f15-8c3e-a3bceff2d01a)


Betty

The days merged into one another. The sea was big and the journey went on forever. Every morning Betty woke up, shivering and sweaty, squashed into the cramped bunk, stomach lurching with the rolls of the ship. Every night before she went to sleep, she clasped her hands together like she used to do at home and prayed that in the morning she’d wake up in her own bed, and go into the kitchen and have bread and jam with Daddy.

‘Time to get up.’

Betty didn’t have pyjamas anymore. She’d had them in her little case when she’d got on the boat but they’d disappeared, so now she spent her nights and days in one grubby, stinky set of clothes. She hadn’t had a bath or combed out her hair for weeks. The ladies with them didn’t know how to deal with Betty’s curls. One of them had tried but quickly gave up when Betty screamed against the pulling and the pain.

They followed the woman to the dining hall where the children were huddled together into one corner with bread and butter. The other passengers came and went as they pleased, talking about ‘ten pounds for all this’ or grumbling about their seasickness or the choices for breakfast.

After they’d eaten they were led outside, and told to be quiet and not to bother anyone. At first, Betty sat on her own. Most of the children were bigger than her. A lot of them liked to sit in the sun, but Betty didn’t. When the others sat in the sun, their fair skin went bright pink. When she sat in the sun, her skin went brown. She’d started to look different. Like Daddy had looked different. That’s when the women had told her to stay inside. They’d said she would look dirty and no-one would ever give her a home. Betty hadn’t listened to them. Sooner or later Daddy would come and find her and take her home. But she did stay out of the sun.

After a little while she made a friend.

Her name was Kay, and despite being older, she was the only one who ever talked to Betty. They whispered together in the bunk late at night.

‘Where did you come from? Before they sent you here.’

Betty screwed up her face. ‘I was in a big house with other children.’

Kay nodded. ‘Me too. So your mam’s dead, then?’

Betty shook her head vigorously. ‘She’s not very well but she’s going to get better and she’s going to come home and…’ She tailed off. And what? Betty wasn’t sure.

‘Nah. She must have died. I heard Mrs Collins say we were all orphans.’

Betty turned the word around in her head. ‘What’s a norfan?’

‘Orphan. It’s when your mam and dad are dead.’

‘I’m not one of them. My daddy said he would come back and get me.’ Betty’s face crumpled as fat tears started to run down her cheeks.

‘Aw. Come on. Don’t do that.’ Kay looked anxious. ‘Come on. I’ll show you what I do when I’m feeling sad.’

They held hands as they walked up on deck and out onto the open area right at the back of the ship. It was cold and windy and dark, but, when Betty looked up, the blackness of the sky was sprinkled with glowing stars.

‘They are so pretty.’

Kay nodded. ‘But sometimes, it’s even prettier. Just wait.’

Betty waited. She didn’t know what she was waiting for. Then she saw a golden spark fly across the sky. And then another.

‘Look.’ Kay pointed to the top of the big funnel that loomed over the ship.

As Betty watched, more sparks, all golden and red, flew from the top of the funnel. Sometimes it was only a few, but sometimes there seemed to be hundreds of sparks, flying up into the air, high above the waves. Away from the ship and all the people on it. Back towards where they’d come from. Back towards home and Daddy. Betty wanted to be one of them.

‘They’re so pretty. And they’re free.’

The girls stood there, holding hands, watching the sparks. But soon the sparks got fewer and fewer. Until finally, they stopped coming at all. The stars no longer seemed pretty to Betty. Tthey were white and cold, and so distant.

‘I wish they would never stop.’

‘I bet we can make our own,’ Kay said. ‘Wait here. I won’t be long.’ She ran back along the deck.

Betty watched the top of the funnels, hoping the sparks would appear again, but they didn’t. She felt lost and alone without them.

Kay came running back. ‘Look.’

She held some sheets of paper and a box of matches.

‘Where did you get them?’

‘In the posh dining room.’

Kay scrunched the paper into a ball before setting it down on the deck in a sheltered corner where the wind wasn’t too strong. She pulled out a pink-headed match from her box and struck it against the side of the box to no effect. The second time, the match sparked into life. Betty watched the orange flame dance as Kay leant towards the balled-up paper. She set the match to the paper and then bent close in, blowing gently on the tiny hint of fire.

Betty felt her heart pounding in her chest. They weren’t supposed to be here. Kay definitely wasn’t supposed to have matches.

Betty gazed at the fire. The pounding in her chest slowed. The screaming inside her head quieted. The thoughts of the women and the spanking they were going to get disappeared. She let her mind be filled by the bright, dancing flames, feeling the warmth prickle the skin on her legs, feeling the smoke spike at her eyes, but never looking away. She could feel the warmth of the fire in the hearth. She could hear the sound of Daddy breathing as she rested her head on his chest. This boat, and this journey, and all the confusion she’d been living with, faded away. Then she slowly lifted her head as a bit of paper, glowing with flame, flew up into the night air. Free of the ship, floating back towards home.

‘Betty!’ Kay grabbed her arm and pulled, but Betty didn’t move. She couldn’t. The fire had captured her and was holding her in its embrace.

‘Betty! Someone’s coming.’

Betty ignored her friend again.

‘Fine.’ She heard Kay’s footsteps as she ran away from the fire, but Betty stayed still.

A big brown boot shoved in front of her and stamped away the flames. ‘What do you think you’re doing, setting a fire on a ship?’

Another voice behind Betty interrupted. ‘She’s one of them orphan brats, ain’t she?’

‘I’m not an orphan.’

Large rough hands spun her round. Betty looked at the two men, who towered over her. One of them grinned. ‘Is that right? Well, then, we’d best take you back to Mummy and Daddy. In one of the posh cabins up front, are they?’

Betty shook her head.

‘I didn’t think so.’ The man thwacked Betty hard across the back of her legs. Once. Twice. Three times. And then four. Betty’s lip twitched but she bit back the tears. She didn’t need to be here. So long as she could see the fire in her head, she could be far away, curled up and safe with Daddy at home. ‘Dirty little firebug.’ The man grunted the words out as he slapped her again. Eventually he released his grip, and shoved her towards his mate. ‘Take her back, then.’

‘You’re sure she’s learnt her lesson?’

The other man had already turned away. ‘Don’t care anymore. She’s not going to be our problem much longer, is she?’

His mate followed. ‘I didn’t think they took coloureds anyroad.’




Chapter 7 (#ulink_86696c27-cbce-5a9d-863a-12fc955e1212)


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 (#ulink_915df0dd-36fd-5e9c-9f5f-094f6f1715a4)


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 (#ulink_308c6e95-5d32-5eca-9017-a03196f9bde5)


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 (#ulink_38eb76f0-ee3a-51fe-9b24-e9655d62af9e)


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.

‘Is Richard home?’

Mrs Mason glanced at the clock. ‘He should be here any minute.’

The front door clicked open right on schedule, and she heard the Masons’ teenage son stomp into the hallway and then into the front lounge. His habitual slouch straightened instantly when he saw his father.

‘I thought Richard should join us on Friday night.’

The boy grew another few inches.

‘He needs to start learning the business and meeting the right people.’

Mrs Mason frowned. ‘Isn’t he a bit young?’

‘Let me decide what’s best for our son. He’s ready. You’d keep him in nappies if you had your way.’ He strode towards the door. ‘And you’ve got your pet now if you want something to baby.’

Mr Mason marched out of the room and a few moments later the front door swung open and closed again. Richard’s demeanour shifted as soon as his father was out of the house. He slumped onto the couch, swinging his legs up onto the cushion.

‘Richard, don’t put your feet on the cushions.’ Mrs Mason’s voice quivered as she murmured the instruction.

Richard laughed at his mother’s feeble attempt to tell him off. ‘You don’t tell my dad what to do.’

‘He’s the man of the house.’

‘And one day I will be.’ Richard laughed as he stood up again and headed towards the door. ‘Let me know when dinner’s ready.’

The lounge room fell into silence after the door slammed behind him. Mrs Mason patted Betty gently on the head.

On Friday evening, Betty was sent to her room early. Mrs Mason gave her banana sandwiches and a couple of golliwog biscuits that she’d bought ready for them to bake into a cake. They’d do that tomorrow, and the cake would be just for them, not for Mr Mason’s guests. She sat up in bed, leaning on the wall, pulling her knees up to her chest with the covers over her legs. She munched on her biscuit, dropping crumbs on the sheets. She wasn’t at all sleepy.

Her room was right above the front door. She wriggled to the end of the bed and reached to crack the window open a little bit. She could hear people arriving. The men all had big, brash voices like Mr Mason. The women were quieter. She tried to remember. She didn’t think Daddy was loud and brash. Had Mummy been quiet?

She couldn’t remember. She thought that Mummy did used to shout sometimes. She thought that sometimes Mummy used bad words that made Daddy frown. Betty could remember Daddy’s big, strong hands, and his deep, warm voice, but she couldn’t remember Mummy properly anymore at all. Betty screwed her eyes closed and tried to bring Mummy’s face into her head. It was almost there, but, when she tried to look closely, the image blurred and wafted away.

The voices outside the front door had subsided to just two now. Mr Mason and Richard. Betty opened her eyes and listened.

‘Now, these blokes own some of the biggest properties in the state. These are important people and they need to know that we’re men they can do business with. You understand.’

‘Yes, Father.’

‘Right. So tell me again. Who are you sitting next to?’

‘The old guy. Rochester.’

‘Less of the old. He’s only a few years older than me.’

Betty thought she heard Richard snigger, and the noise was followed by the sharp crack of Mr Mason’s hand across his son’s face.

‘You’ll take this seriously.’

‘Sorry, Father.’

‘The Rochesters are important people, and I’ve heard they’re not happy with Halligans. So you’re going to charm him. He’s got a son not much older than you. He’ll inherit the property one day, like you’ll inherit all this. That’s what we want Rochester to see – that we’re a nice, respectable family business that he can trust for years to come.’

‘Yes, Father.’

There was another short moment of quiet. ‘Now, get your face cleaned up and get inside.’




Chapter 11 (#ulink_17b6ea41-0a1c-51cc-9356-6542ec6af52a)


Jane

Waking up on my first morning at Our Lady School, I found myself surrounded by girls my own age. They stood beside my bed, looking down at the person who had magically appeared in the middle of the night.

‘You’re the new girl.’

‘Yes. I’m Jane.’ I sat up in bed, pushing back the thin sheet and scratchy blanket, conscious of their eyes on me. Back when I lived with my mother, there were always lots of people around, and lots of kids to play with. It would be good to live like that again.

‘Why didn’t you come on the first day of school like we did?’ The girl asking the questions was very pretty. She had long, shiny brown hair tied in two plaits, with pink ribbons. She was wearing pink pyjamas too.

‘I don’t know. I was at school in Sydney. Then Mrs Reed said I was coming here.’

‘Who is Mrs Reed? Is she your mother?’

‘My aunt. I just lived with her.’

‘Why don’t you live with your mum and dad?’

They were all staring at me, waiting for the answer.

‘I don’t know.’

‘Maybe she’s an orphan,’ a red-haired girl suggested. ‘Are your mum and dad dead?’

‘No!’ My answer was automatic, but the question lodged somewhere deep inside me. Why hadn’t Mum come to take me home from the Reed house? As for a dad… I wasn’t sure. I’d never called any of Mum’s friends ‘dad’.

‘I bet they are. I bet they’re dead,’ a blonde girl said. ‘Or maybe they just don’t love you and they gave you away.’

Something snapped when she said that. My mum had loved me. I was sure she had. Before Mrs Reed, before this school, I’d been happy.

‘Don’t say that.’ I jumped out of bed. ‘You take that back.’

‘I bet you’re right,’ another voice chimed in.

‘Nah.’ That was the first girl again. ‘I think she’s an orphan. I think they’re dead. Dead. Dead. Dead.’

The first girl started the chant, but the others picked it up quickly.

‘Stop it!’ I screamed. The shouting was ringing in my ears. Another school. Another set of kids who seemed to hate me. For a second I was back in the sports shed with the jeering and the fear. ‘Stop it…’ I pushed the dark-haired girl. She staggered backwards and fell over right at the feet of the nun who had at that moment entered the dormitory.

‘What’s going on here?’ The nun was tall and thin, and dressed all in black.

‘She pushed me, Sister.’ The dark-haired girl immediately began sobbing.

‘We don’t allow pushing here.’ The nun looked me up and down. ‘And nor do we allow girls to sleep in their clothes.’

I tugged at my nightie. It wasn’t really a nightie, it was just a big t-shirt that was a hand-me down from Emma, but it was all I had.

‘Now apologise to Miranda.’

The girl still sitting on the floor turned towards me with a really nasty smile.

‘No. I won’t. She said a horrible thing about me.’

‘I didn’t, Sister, honestly.’ Miranda turned her doll-like face to the nun.

The nun took me by the shoulder. ‘You will apologise. Now. And then you will write out one hundred times, “I must not tell lies”. Do you understand?’ When I didn’t answer, she shook my shoulder hard. ‘Do you understand, Jane Eyre?’

All around me the other girls were smiling and giggling. The nun shook me again, gripping my shoulder so hard it hurt.

It wasn’t fair! I had thought being at a school with no boys to bully me would be better. I was wrong.




Chapter 12 (#ulink_ea48fc99-06a6-5b3e-9b3f-82822d3e61cf)


Betty

Betty was pulled along by Mrs Mason’s tight grip on her hand, through the mass of bodies rushing and pushing their way through the shops. Betty had never seen anything like this.

Bankstown Square, Mrs Mason said, was the biggest shopping centre in the whole country, with all sorts of new and interesting shops that everyone wanted to see. That’s why Mrs Mason had to come here to buy Betty’s new summer clothes. Betty had thought it was summer already, but apparently that wasn’t right. Summer and winter were backwards here and even winter wasn’t really cold.

Betty’s legs were tired and Mrs Mason was laden with carrier bags from all the shops they’d been in. Mrs Mason hadn’t let her try on one of the new miniskirts that were so popular. She was apparently too little for that sort of thing, whatever that sort of thing was. Her dresses were all pretty and frilly. Betty didn’t really like them, but she didn’t tell Mrs Mason that. She thought that that would make Mrs Mason sad.

They swept out of the big sliding doors into the sunshine. Mrs Mason pulled her hand away for a second to reach into her pocket. That was it. Betty was too tired. She shuffled backwards away from Mrs Mason and sat down on a low wall outside the shops. The sun was hot on her face and she closed her eyes for a moment, away from the bustle and the noise. It was almost warm enough to imagine that she was back in her real home in front of the blazing fire.

It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds before she opened her eyes again, but when she did she couldn’t see Mrs Mason anywhere. Betty clambered up onto the wall, but even up on tippy-toes she couldn’t see Mrs Mason. There were too many people pushing their way into the shopping centre, or fighting their way to the car park.

‘Eliza!’

She heard the voice and jumped off the wall. She tried to run towards the voice, but there were too many people in the way.

‘Eliza!’ The voice was further away now. It seemed to come from outside the car park, near the street.

Betty stopped and tried to listen. Where was Mrs Mason? She had to find her. Mrs Mason was the only person she knew, the only person who cared about her.

‘Eliza!’

The voice was closer this time. Betty set out more confidently, striding in what she hoped was the right direction.

The next sound made her stop. It wasn’t a voice. It wasn’t Mrs Mason calling for her. It was a growl of an engine, then a screech of brakes, and then a cry. The crowd around her stopped milling in all their different directions and turned, like Betty, towards the cry.

Then the voices all started up at once. ‘Someone go into one of the shops and call the ambos.’

‘What happened?’

‘Is she all right?’

‘Oh my God.’

Betty pushed and shoved as hard as she could to get to the front of the crowd. Mrs Mason must be in the crowd, so if she could get to the front Mrs Mason would see her, wouldn’t she? And then everything would be all right.

But she couldn’t get through. The throng of people was too great. Eventually she called out. ‘Help me!’

A woman’s face appeared, ducking down to her level. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Mrs Mason….’ Betty gulped out the words but couldn’t finish.

‘Mrs Mason? Is that your mother?’

Betty shook her head. ‘I live with her.’

‘OK. I’m sure we can find her.’

Betty let the stranger lift her up and carry her through the crowd, shouting at people to let them through.

‘Can you see your lady now?’ The woman turned around so Betty could look at the people gathered.

Betty shook her head. The woman turned again. Then Betty saw Mrs Mason. She was lying in the street. There was a motorbike on its side right next to her, and a man dressed in black leather sitting on the pavement. A truck was stopped on the other side of the road, its cab twisted away from them at a funny angle. Betty cried out.

‘What’s wrong?’

She couldn’t make the words. She stuck out a hand, finger pointing towards the figure stretched out on the road.

‘Oh dear God,’ the woman muttered. She turned her body so Betty couldn’t see Mrs Mason lying on the road, but it was too late. The image was fixed inside her head. Eventually a siren sounded and a couple of cars with flashing lights pulled to a stop in the empty street alongside the abandoned truck. The woman who was still holding Betty stepped forward to the men who jumped out of the cars.

‘I think this is her little daughter,’ she whispered.




Chapter 13 (#ulink_cc562782-fe56-5afe-84ff-57331ef127a6)


Jane

In those first weeks at school, I tried to keep to myself, but it was hard. There were two hundred girls at Our Lady, and very few places to be alone. All the girls ate together in a large dining room and slept six to a dormitory. We kept our clothes in small cubicles, but even then three girls shared a single space.

I never minded sharing my space when I lived with Mum, but here it was different. Here, instead of letting one another be, it felt like everyone was competing to be the best and the most popular. And I hated getting changed in front of the other girls. Showing your body was wrong. Mrs Reed had said that when John had looked at me, and I’d known that she’d been right.

This meant I was sometimes late for chapel or late for class. I hated it when the nuns got angry, and sometimes I was punished for lateness, but I still was not going to get undressed in front of the other girls.

On weekends, we were allowed to wear ordinary clothes instead of uniforms. I only had three dresses. They were hand-me-downs from Emma and when I first got them, I thought they were pretty. At school I learnt differently.

‘Oh look, Jane is wearing the same dress she wore last weekend.’

‘Look! It’s been ripped and mended. She’s got no-one to buy her a new one.’ Miranda was the most popular girl in our class. Where she led, the others would follow. ‘Because she’s an orphan.’

‘I am not an orphan!’

‘Then why don’t your parents come to visit you like mine do?’

‘Because they live a long way away.’

‘No. It’s because they’re dead and you’re an orphan.’

They all started chanting. ‘Jane is an orphan. Jane is an orphan. Dead. Dead. Dead.’ I tried to ignore them and walk away, but they stood in front of me, just chanting.

‘I am not!’ I struck out at the nearest girl. Not Miranda. She’d learnt by now not to stand too close to me.

The girl screamed very loudly. I hit her again. Then one of her friends pulled my hair, so I hit her too. Then they were all screaming, and pushing and shoving me.

‘Girls. Stop it this instant!’ Sister Mary Gabriel was the deputy headmistress of the school.

‘They started it.’ My words rushed out. ‘They said I was an orphan, and I’m not. I hate them!’

‘She hit me,’ one of the other girls wailed.

‘Enough!’ We all fell silent. ‘Jane Eyre, did you hit her?’

‘Yes, but…’

‘But nothing. We do not hit people. This is wrong. Our Lord teaches us that. You will go to the chapel and pray to the Holy Mother to forgive you. Miranda, you and your friends will go to the library. I want a one-page essay from each of you about the virtues of being kind to those who are …’ She glanced back in my direction. ‘Less fortunate than ourselves. Now go, all of you.’

When I got to the chapel that day, a girl called Helen from my class was there. I had never spoken to her before, but I’d always wanted to. She wasn’t into make-up and gossiping like the other girls. She didn’t have fancy clothes either, but she did have lovely reddish hair. She didn’t smile very often, but when she did, her face seemed to glow. She kept herself a bit separate from the others. She never joined in with their chants. And she was so clever. She always knew the answers to the teachers’ questions, and she wasn’t afraid to put her hand up to answer, even though the other girls called her ‘smartie’ and teacher’s pet.

I didn’t say anything. I slipped into the next pew and knelt down. I didn’t pray for forgiveness for hitting the other girls. I prayed for forgiveness for whatever I’d done that meant I’d deserved to be sent to Mrs Reed’s house and then here.

‘You shouldn’t fight with them.’

I sat back and turned to look at Helen.

‘How did you know I was fighting?’

‘Your dress is torn. Why do you always fight them, Jane?’ She frowned as she looked at me. ‘You can’t win.’

‘I hate them all. They said I was an orphan…and I’m not.’ Perhaps I thought if I said it often enough, it would be true.

‘Why would that be a bad thing? I am an orphan.’

‘Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’ I couldn’t help but ask, hoping for an answer that would prove that my situation was different to hers. ‘What happened to your mum and dad?’

‘I don’t know. I was very small. I have been an orphan as long as I can remember.’

‘Don’t you hate not having a home or a family? I hate it.’

‘But I do have a home. It’s here. I’ve been at boarding school since I was tiny.’ She twisted in the pew to face me properly. ‘We could be family, though, if you wanted, Jane. You and me.’

I couldn’t put my reaction into words. Someone wanted to spend time with me. I managed to nod and reached my hand towards her across the pew.

She took it and smiled. ‘Good. Now we’re together, you won’t have to fight all the time.’




Chapter 14 (#ulink_8475c15d-baf4-5097-87c6-8596a39f6c4a)


Betty

‘I don’t know why Mother thought she was pretty.’

Richard didn’t even look at Betty as he spoke about her. He’d learnt that from his father.

‘Neither do I.’ Mr Mason fell quiet for a moment. ‘But she was like that. She always saw the good in people.’

Richard snorted.

Mr Mason rose from his chair and walked over to where Betty was sitting on a couch, reading a book.

‘You can’t just sit around here all day.’ He straightened up. ‘Maddie!’

The housekeeper walked into the room. She was the third or fourth since Mrs Mason’s death. They came. They stayed for a little while and they went away. Only Betty was stuck here.

‘I need you to sort this one out.’

The girl glanced at Betty uncertainly. ‘What do you mean? I get her off to school every day. What else am I supposed to do?’

‘She’s old enough to start pulling her weight around here now.’

‘Yes, Mr Mason.’

‘And after school she can work with you in the kitchen. She needs to learn what you do. Cooking, cleaning…’ His voice trailed away as if he was unable to imagine what else might need doing around the house. ‘She’ll be someone’s wife if we’re lucky one day. Or she can work for someone if she has to. Like you.’

Maddie’s face set in a stony look. ‘Yes, Mr Mason.’

‘Right. Off you go, then.’ He turned to Betty. ‘Both of you now.’

Betty scurried after the cleaning girl.

‘And do something about her hair.’ The final words were shouted after them as Maddie pushed Betty towards the kitchen, where she took a long, hard look at Betty’s hair.

‘How’d you get hair like that anyway?’

Betty tugged at her dark, tight curls and shrugged.

‘I don’t understand. I can’t see someone like him taking in a half-caste.’ She stared again at Betty’s hair. ‘This needs sorting out, though.’

She opened and shut cupboards for a minute. ‘Now, you don’t tell anyone I showed you how to do this. OK?’

Betty nodded. Maddie mixed milk and honey together in a pan and smoothed them onto Betty’s hair, before combing her kinks and curls away. Eventually she lifted Betty up so she could look at herself in the mirror that hung high up next to the door. ‘See. No more frizz.’

‘It looks like your hair.’

Maddie narrowed her eyes. ‘Don’t say that.’

Betty did her hair like that every day when she went to school. It didn’t make any difference. Nobody at her school talked or looked like her. Maddie was unsympathetic. ‘You’ve just got to fit in.’

But Betty didn’t fit in. Betty didn’t talk the same as her classmates. Betty had cracks in the skin at the end of her fingers from the dish soap and the oven cleaner she used when she cleaned the kitchen after school. Betty had bags under her eyes from getting up so early to smooth down her kinky hair. Betty had cheeks that erupted into freckles at the slightest hint of sun, and arms that turned a rich brown when she stayed outside at break-time. Betty wasn’t like this Eliza Mason whose name was written on the class list.

Eliza Mason, she imagined, would be a good girl who fit in and knew how to behave with all these strange children who treated her like the foreigner. Eliza Mason would belong in the living room at the big house with Richard and Mr Mason, not out in the kitchen with the cleaning lady.

One day, Maddie held out her finger to Betty. There was a thin gold band with a tiny sparkling clear stone at the centre. ‘He’s called Mick. He works for his dad in construction. But he can sing. He’s auditioning to go on the cruise ships and then we’ll both be off.’

Betty never found out whether Maddie’s Mick got his job on the cruise ships and whether Maddie went with him, but she went somewhere. And then there was another woman, and another, and another. And they never knew that Eliza used to be Betty, or that she used to sit in the nice living room with Mrs Mason. They just saw a girl who didn’t belong. As the years passed, her world got smaller. School. The kitchen. The tiny bedroom well away from Mr Mason and Richard. And the yard outside the kitchen door. The yard was her escape. She would go there and listen to the music and the voices on her cheap plastic radio. Sometimes she heard a voice that sounded like her dad, or like the way she thought she remembered her dad talking. She listened to the Beatles and the Stones, and then to Bowie and Queen, and The Who. Something about them made her think of another home and another world from a long, long time ago.

In the yard the sun would beat down on her skin and she could imagine the warmth of the fire. In the yard she didn’t have to behave a certain way. She could touch the ground with her fingers and feel the air on her face, and stare up at the sky. And she could imagine what it would be like to launch herself into the clouds and fly free like the sparks that were now almost all she remembered from the big ship that had brought her to this life. She wished she was a shining spark against the night sky, flying far away from this place and these people that held her down. Flying back to that half-forgotten place she still thought of as home.




Chapter 15 (#ulink_05d833b6-3c18-5518-8e20-2834378a3839)


Jane

Another Christmas was approaching and once more I stared out the window at the coaches parked in the school’s circular driveway. They were very different from the old bus that had brought me to Our Lady years ago when I was just a little kid. These coaches had air-conditioning, and toilets. And music played during the journey. At least, that’s what the girls who rode them home for the holidays said. I wouldn’t know. In all the years I’d been here, I’d never been ‘home’ for the holidays. I hadn’t even heard from the Reeds in years. They had probably forgotten I ever existed, and that thought didn’t bother me at all. Our Lady was home now. The only person in the world I cared about was here.

‘They’ll all be leaving soon.’

I could hear the happiness in Helen’s voice.

Below our dormitory, the front doors of the senior-school boarding house opened and girls poured out, bubbling with excitement at the thought of going home. We watched them as they fought for the best seats on the coaches. Helen and I were anxious for them to leave too. For the next six weeks we would be the only students at the school. It was our own private heaven.

‘Come on, I want to show you something.’ Helen moved away from the window.

‘What?’

‘It’s a surprise.’

Together we started down the big wooden staircase that led to the main entrance of the boarding house. As always, Helen didn’t hurry. She never hurried. When I was smaller, that had bothered me and I’d wanted to grab her hand and drag her along at my speed. But now I was used to it. I was content to walk beside her.

‘Oh look, it’s the orphans.’

‘There’ll be no Christmas for you.’ Miranda and her friends were standing near the front door. ‘It’ll just be you and the nuns. And all those prayers.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘No Christmas dinner and no presents for you.’

‘She might get some more of last year’s hand me down clothes.’

‘Maybe this year she’ll get a training bra.’I fought down the urge to tug at my slightly too small dress. I was still wearing hand-me-downs from the Reeds, although occasionally, at the nuns’ urgings, Mrs Reed sent some money to buy me things I needed. A bra was not one of those things. At fourteen, I was still flat chested. The girls sniggered, flexing their shoulders to show off their developing busts.

The anger I’d got so used to carrying with me since I’d arrived at school flared up. I didn’t care about Christmas dinner or growing breasts, but I wanted to shake them and shout at them until they saw that not having those things didn’t matter one bit. Helen and I were perfectly happy without them.

Helen’s fingers closed around my hand and I pushed the anger aside.

‘Girls – don’t dawdle. The bus won’t wait for you.’ We all turned to see one of the nuns coming down the stairs, followed by a woman we had never seen before. ‘And Miranda, perhaps during Christmas you could think about our Lord and his teachings about being kind to others.’

‘Yes, Sister.’ The girls left quickly.

The sister smiled at Helen and I. ‘So girls, you will both be with us for the summer again?’

‘Yes, Sister.’

‘Well then, I would like to introduce you to our newest member of staff who has just joined us. This is Miss Temple.’

Miss Temple smiled. Her hair was dark red and her eyes were golden brown. She had painted fingernails. They were a soft, shiny pink and when she moved her hands, as she did when she talked, the pink caught the light. She wore a blue dress with a white collar, not unlike our school uniform, but on her it looked elegant. ‘You’re not a nun.’ The words were out before I could stop them.

‘No.’ Miss Temple’s smile spread wider.

‘Miss Temple is the first of our lay staff,’ the Sister explained. ‘We will be taking on a few lay teachers and house mistresses in the future. Miss Temple will be joining us as an English teacher when school resumes in February.’

‘And I will be house mistress here in the junior school,’ added Miss Temple.

Helen nodded. ‘Can we go now, please, Sister?’

‘Of course.’

We left. We slipped around the back of the boarding house towards the gymnasium.

‘Don’t you think Miss Temple is pretty?’ I was still a little dazzled by her.

‘I suppose so.’ Helen frowned a little bit. ‘Come on..’

‘Where are we going?’

I followed her along the edge of the sports field to the furthest corner of the grounds. This area wasn’t used for anything and it was overgrown with bushes. Helen pushed her way past the bushes and I followed her into a small open area.

‘Oh.’

There were flowers growing all around me. Yellow and red flowers that were in full bloom because summer was just starting. I could smell them too. There was something familiar about that smell.

‘It must have been a garden once,’ Helen said. ‘When I found this place, there were weeds everywhere. I pulled them out and the flowers grew.’

‘When did you find it?’

‘A couple of months ago. I wanted to surprise you. Miranda is wrong, Jane. This is your present.’

‘My present?’

‘Your Christmas present, silly. We can spend all our holiday here and no-one will disturb us. We can grow even more flowers together.’

‘It’s beautiful.’ I flung my arms around Helen and hugged her. As I did, I remembered where I had smelled the flowers before. My mother. I could barely remember her face, but I did remember the flowers she’d grown. The garden smelled like home and freedom, and memories, and Helen had made it for me.

I hugged my best friend even tighter as I said words I hadn’t said since the day I was taken away from my home.

‘I love you, Helen.’




Chapter 16 (#ulink_9f100286-238b-5a8c-9a39-2a61870911ea)


Betty

Betty leant on the veranda railing. It was a hot January day. Most people would be inside in the shade, but, even after all this time, Betty still loved the way the heat of the sun warmed her as it touched her skin. And she even secretly loved the way it turned her skin darker – it reminded her that she wasn’t Eliza Mason at all, no matter what everyone else might think.

The girls from school would go to the beach on the weekends and come in on Monday all red and sore, and complaining that they could never get a tan. Betty wasn’t like them. That meant they hated her. Betty had decided not to care. She’d decided that she hated them too.

A car pulled up to the garage. Richard’s new car, a present from his father for his birthday. She’d heard Richard boasting to his mates about the big red muscle car. It was a 1971 Falcon GTHO with racing stripes. He thought it made him powerful. It didn’t. It was the car that was powerful. Richard was nothing.

She slipped back inside before Richard got out of the car. She tried to avoid Richard as much as she could. He had ignored her for years, but just lately he’d noticed her again and she didn’t like the way he looked at her now.

She tied her hair out of her face and went down to the kitchen. The cleaning woman only came twice a week now. Mr Mason had decreed Betty old enough to manage most of the cooking and tidying. He only got someone in to help if he was having his disgusting work people over to the house. Then Betty was confined to the kitchen. She didn’t mind that too much. It was better than sitting at that table with the Masons.

It was time to start making dinner, so she put a pot of water on the stove to boil and started peeling potatoes.

‘What are you doing?’

The tone of Richard’s voice made her freeze.

‘Go away. I’m starting dinner. Your father will be angry at me if it’s late.’

Richard shrugged. ‘He’s not home yet. Went out with clients and won’t be back for ages. Plenty of time for a bit of fun.’ His smirk made Betty’s insides clench. She was sixteen. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

‘Piss off.’

‘I don’t think so. We’ve fed and clothed you all these years. It’s time you started paying us back. And I know just how you can do that.’

Betty shook her head. ‘No.’

Richard lunged towards her. She staggered backwards, cracking her hip on the corner of the big table. She stumbled. That was enough for him to get to her. He pushed her back onto the table and trapped her there between his arms and his body. She wriggled backwards. He laughed.

One hand grabbed her wrist. The other dug into her thigh. ‘You can pretend you don’t want to, but we both know you do, don’t we?’

His arm pushed down across her chest, and his free hand pulled at her knee, forcing her thighs wide. ‘Come on. I know you give it to the boys at school.’

His hand starting pulling at her skirt. Betty stared up at the ceiling, her panicking mind searching for something… anything.

She twisted her shoulders as hard as she could. It unbalanced him and she sat up, leaning forward, trying desperately to push him away. It wasn’t enough. She just ended up closer against his body. He laughed again. ‘I knew you’d be up for it.’

He held her tight against his body now, while he struggled with his own clothes. ‘I bet you like to suck cock, don’t you?’

A wave of nausea hit her. She leant forward as far as she could. One last effort. The pot for the potatoes was still on the stove. If she could reach that, then she’d have something she could hit him with. She reached and her fingertips brushed something – the handle? She tried to grab. The burning pain seared through her hand. She screamed without thinking. Richard looked behind himself. He pulled her hand into his grip, staring at the red welt that was appearing across her palm. ‘Does that hurt?’

Betty had no fight left. She nodded silently.

He smirked again. ‘Good.’

He tipped her back onto the table. Looking into his eyes, she saw a kind of madness there. Nothing would stop him now. Not her pleas, or her injury. Not even fear of his father finding out. She’d had boys before, but this was something else. They’d wanted her. Richard just wanted to have her, to show her that he could. Betty closed her eyes and pictured the fire. She concentrated on the burning sensation in her hand, and in her mind that grew into flames dancing in front of her, warming her. Carrying her away.

‘What in God’s name…?’

Richard was off her in an instant. ‘Father?’

Betty pushed with her uninjured arm, and pulled her knees up onto the table, dragging her skirt down to cover herself.

‘What in God’s name is going on here?’

Betty stared down at her blistering hand. She didn’t speak.

‘I was… she…’ Richard stumbled and stuttered over the words as he stuffed himself back into his trousers.

‘She what?’ His father’s voice was cool.

‘She started it.’

Betty shook her head.

‘She came on to me. Been coming on to me for months now.’

Mr Mason nodded. ‘And you couldn’t resist the urge?’

Richard bent his head towards the ground. ‘Sorry, Father.’

Betty waited for the consequences. She’d heard Mr Mason shout at his son through the walls sometimes. But instead of anger, Mr Mason just nodded. ‘Young men have needs.’

He stepped forward and slapped his son briskly across the shoulder. Then he looked at Betty. ‘And you fancied this one.’

Richard shrugged. ‘She was up for it.’

Betty burned with rage. ‘I was not. I…’

Mr Mason held up a hand. ‘Quiet. You’ve done enough.’

The older man was staring at her, though not with want, like she’d had from Richard such a short time before. This was something else.

‘My mates all want a go with her. That’s half the reason they all want to come round here.’

Mr Mason nodded. ‘That’s interesting. Very interesting.’ He turned back to his son. ‘I forgot the contracts for the Northam land leases. Could you fetch them? Should be on my desk.’

Richard hurried out of the room.

Betty still sat huddled on the table.

Mr Mason folded his arms. ‘I’m thinking I might get a new cleaning girl in.’

Betty nodded, confused.

‘Maybe it’s time you played more of a part in the business, if you know what I mean? Does that sound good?’

Betty didn’t know what he meant, but it seemed to mean less cleaning, so she nodded.

‘Good. We’ll have to get you some new clothes.’ He looked her up and down. ‘Nicer things so you’re nice for my associates to look at. I’ll give you money to go shopping. Would you like that?’

Now Betty understood. She was to look pretty and make people happy. ‘Yes, Mr Mason.’




Chapter 17 (#ulink_820a0207-5610-513a-9ad3-ba8ffa39b217)


Jane

‘Sue says she did it with her boyfriend on New Year’s Eve. At a party.’

‘I bet she’s lying.’

‘No, she told me it didn’t last long, but they definitely did It.’ The two girls giggled wildly as they carried their bags up the stairs to the dormitories.

I watched them go. I hated the start of the new year. During the summer holidays, Helen and I got to be alone at Our Lady. For ten years now, summer had been my favourite part of the year. We would read and talk, and now we had the added joy of watching our garden flourish. The Christmas services with only the two of us and the nuns, rather than with a chapel full of giggling girls, were beautiful and I was able to feel the presence of the Lord in the calm and the music.

Then school would start, and all that peace was shattered.

This year we were moving into grade twelve. I was almost seventeen, almost a woman, according to the calendar, but nowhere near what the other girls would consider being a woman. I’d barely talked to a man outside of the priests at confession, and that certainly didn’t count. Those giggling girls gossiping about who had and hadn’t done it already lived in a different world.

I let myself out the back door of the boarding house. As a senior boarder, the nuns didn’t seem to mind if I went where I liked around the school grounds after lessons were over. The garden was wilting a bit in the late summer heat, but it was still beautiful. The roses were continuing to bloom, and we had trained a white bougainvillea from the neighbouring garden to climb to our side of the fence. Helen had said that that was a sort of magic – it was like stealing, but nobody lost anything. The more people loved and cared for the plant, the more there was to go around. There were tall sunflowers, their faces raised to the clear blue sky and delicate blue Agapanthus. Helen and I had made a shady bower, with green grass to sit on, and she was there now, resting against the garden wall and reading. Throughout the summer, this little oasis had given me so much joy, but now I found myself looking at the scene with a sense of disquiet. ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked as I dropped onto the grass next to her.

‘This is our last year at school. What do we do at the end of the year?’

She put her book down and looked at me. ‘Will you go back to live with the Reeds?’

‘Never.’

She took my hand. ‘You’re still thinking about John, aren’t you?’

I nodded. It had been a long time before I’d even told Helen about that day in the sports shed and about my cousin coming into my room. Even now I couldn’t make sense of what he’d been doing. ‘He probably goes after prettier girls now.’

‘Oh, Jane. You are pretty. Don’t you know that?’

She always said that, and I always wanted to believe her. But when I looked at the other girls, I knew it wasn’t true. I was bony where they had curves. My plain brown hair was flat and fine, not glossy like some of the others. I barely dared to try putting on make-up. I didn’t know how to stop it looking like a painted mask. At best, I hoped to be forgettable.

‘I don’t know anything, Helen. I’ve lived here since I was just a child. We both have.’ I was realising rapidly that in a few short months we’d have to leave this place. We’d have to leave this garden. We’d have to leave the nuns and lay teachers who’d been our guides through life so far. And we’d have to go… where? I tried to explain what I meant.

‘The only time we leave is to go on school trips. We really don’t know what’s out there.’ The idea was overwhelming – there was a whole world waiting to chew us up. ‘Maybe we should stay here and become nuns?’





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