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

‘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.