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

‘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.’