by Luccia Gray
“A man cannot love a tiny, whining, little creature, a thing he cannot hold or even touch, a feeble delicate jelly of a thing…”
“But John adores you!”
“And I love him too, now that he is a man. He has grown out of the baby he was into the man he is. I don’t even remember him as a baby and neither does he. What does it matter what happened when he was a tiny thing? Who remembers?”
“Childhood is an essential phase in a person’s life. A person’s upbringing is crucial. Children need to be taught, loved and educated, because an adult is the sum of all his actions and experiences, both those remembered and those which are hidden in his memory. A person is more than his clothes, his appearance, his titles or his family history. A person is the sum of those who have loved him and known him, of everything he has seen, heard, learnt and experienced.”
“Those fancy modern ideas ruined our marriage. You selfishly became concerned with other people’s children and neglected your duties to me.”
“You stopped loving me long before I became involved in the parish schools.”
“Of course I did, because you only wanted to be pregnant again. The first time you miscarried I was grateful, then you recovered and returned to my bedchamber, but your purpose was to entice me into another conception. I thought you would miscarry again, but you didn’t. I knew you would abandon me again if you had another child. I couldn’t lose you. I did it for you, because I loved you more than anything in the world.”
“What happened to her?”
“I told Carter to dispose of her. I never asked how or where. First she haunted you, and now she’s haunting me. You must forgive me, Jane.”
“I dreamt she was alive for months. I still see her in my dreams, but I dare not mention it to anyone, lest they should consider me insane. I have seen her small, slight frame, and her golden hair, like my mother’s. She is alive! How can I forgive you for taking her away from me?”
“She is gone. Yet I must ask you to forgive me, Jane, because I never deserved your purity, your love, your innocence. Forgive me for the greatest sin I have ever committed against anyone, even against God, and I have committed so many sins. Forgive me for estranging you from your only daughter. I tell you I could not bear to let her stay. She would have taken you away from me, and I could not lose you again. Can you forgive me for that? My greatest sin has been that I loved you too much. I lost you anyway, in the end. The separation only postponed the loss. I lost you, Jane. How did I lose you, if I loved you more than my own life? Jane, speak to me, please. Do not leave me in such agony.”
His monstrous words cut into my heart. I could not utter a single word. My head was throbbing violently and my eyes stung with the brine of hate. I heard a deafening roar in my burning ears, as if a wave of blood were to explode and seep out. The room dimmed and blackened once more. I must have been unwell, fainting again like a debutante.
I never suspected he could have been so heartless. How could I have been so blind? I should have realised when he tried to trick me into a bigamous marriage when I was an innocent young girl. Later, when the rouse failed, did he not wish to make me his concubine? Had he not been unfaithful and discourteous to me in the last seven years? Parading mistresses and flaunting his money with rascals in London. Yet, all those insults seemed insignificant now.
“No, Edward, I will not forgive you this time. I am not a nineteen-year-old naive and penniless young orphan any more. Call Mr. Wood, no doubt he will acquiesce, and you will easily buy your absolution. Do not look for any consolation in my words. This time you have excelled yourself; what you have done is diabolical and unforgivable.”
“Please, Jane. I am damned if you don’t forgive me!”
“I cannot forgive you, but I will keep your monstrous secret for John’s sake. He must never know who his father really was, in case he should be burdened by the idea of expiating your sins, which are your own and nobody else’s.”
I hoped he would never ever find peace after dying. I wished his soul would roam the underworld until the end of time. I walked unsteadily to his medicine cabinet before leaving the chamber, ignoring his agonising calls.
***
Mrs. Rochester left the room and stumbled along the gallery. I rushed to her side, asking her how she was.
“Not very well, I’m afraid.” She looked bewildered and added, “Michael, make sure the room is cleaned. It smells disgusting, and see to it that Dr. Carter visits Mr. Rochester this evening.”
“I’ll see to it at once, Mrs. Rochester.”
“I would like to see Dr. Carter in the library, when he has finished.”
“Of course. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, thank you. I’m going to my room to rest. I’m not feeling very well.” Her voice was oddly slurred.
“Shall I bring you something to eat or drink?”
“No, thank you. I just need to rest for an hour or so.”
“But you haven’t eaten since…”
“Michael, I cannot fight against all of you. Stop arguing with me, and please do as I said.”
She moved on, leaning unsteadily along the wall.
“Please, let me help you, Mrs. Rochester.”
She looked at me with bleary eyes. I put my arm around her waist and escorted her along the gallery to the steps leading up to her room in the third floor tower. When we reached the tapered staircase, I realised it was too narrow for both of us.
“May I carry you up?”
She nodded and I took her slight frame in my arms and carried her easily up to her room, pushed the door behind me, and put her feet on the floor. She felt like clay in my hands, as she rested her head on my chest and her hands on my shoulders while she cried softly. I spoke into her hair.
“Was his confession that terrible?”
“Michael, it was more than terrible. It was so appalling, I want to die.”
“You can’t die. You mustn’t speak like that. We need you. I need you, John needs you, and Adele needs you. The children at your parish schools need you. You can’t give up.”
“He has killed me. I tell you, I want to die.”
Her words made me hate him more than anyone in the world. I would have sunk his skull with my bare hands that minute for making her suffer unjustly.
“Come, you need to rest,” I whispered, as I walked her over to the bed and rested her head on the pillow. “If you were my wife, I would worship you every minute of the day.”
“I’d like that.” Her dazed eyes turned up to mine provocatively. She was behaving most unlike herself. I supposed it was the shocking confession she must have heard.
“Jane Rochester must die, just as Bertha Rochester did. He’ll drive us both to our deaths. Will you help me die? Would you let me die?”
“I would kill him first.”
“Let me die with you.” She held my hand, drawing me nearer.
“You must rest,” I whispered hoarsely, pulling away.
“Let me die and I will be free. Kill Mrs. Rochester, Michael. Kill her. She is a very unhappy woman.”
“Rest, Mrs. Rochester,” I whispered, as I stroked her hair. She closed her eyes and moaned. “I am not quite myself, Michael. I’m afraid I took some of Mr. Rochester’s drops.”
“How many?”
“Just two, I think. I should be recovered in an hour or two.”
“I will call Adele to come and stay with you.”
“He promised me he would love me and cherish me, but his promises didn’t last very long. Are you lying to me, too?”
I sat for a while watching her smooth face. Her eyes were closed and her breast heaved rhythmically in deep slumber, so I spoke without reserve, caressing her hair.
“I am not like him. I love you. No one will ever love you like I do.”
As I stood up to leave, she turned over, put her face down onto the pillow and mumbled, “I love you, too, Michael.”
It took all of my willpower to open the door and
walk away from her room, but I was sure I would return soon.
***
Chapter XIV All Hallows
Eyre Hall wasn’t the biggest house I had worked in, but it was the cleanest and most well organised. Mrs. Leah had a schedule, which was hardly ever moved, unless a very special occasion occurred. We were worked off our feet, but I didn’t mind, because our rooms were warm and comfortable, and we ate the same food as the masters. Mrs. Rochester insisted on that. I was sure she was the best mistress in all of England. Mrs. Rochester was very caring, she always said to me, “Good morning, Beth, do not neglect Sunday school or the Sunday service.” She often gave us a threepenny bit, when she saw us in church on Sunday morning, and we often had Sunday afternoon off. I had been in much worse households.
On All Hallows Eve, I got up at 5:30 like I did every day, took the water up to the bedrooms and brought down the clothes for laundering. Then I had some breakfast and went up again to bring down the chamber pots, empty them, and take them back up again while the masters were having breakfast, and I made the beds and cleaned the rooms. After that, I came down to finish laundering while Simon saw to the upstairs fires and Mr. Rochester, who was his special responsibility. Then I helped Cook with the lunch, which was served between 12 and 12:30. Miss Leah, Cook, Christy and me had some lunch while Michael was upstairs serving lunch to Miss Adele and Mrs. Rochester, and Simon was attending Mr. Rochester.
After the men had lunch, Christy and I cleaned all the breakfast and lunch dishes and the whole of Cook’s kitchen. We sometimes had a break before tea was taken up and the beds were made again after afternoon naps. Then we helped Cook with dinner and finished the laundry and the ironing. Christy polished the wooden floors and brushed the carpets downstairs on alternate weekdays; the other weekdays she did the same in the bedrooms and Miss Adele’s study. The silver was polished on Fridays and the windows done on Saturdays.
According to Miss Leah, today was a special day, it was All Hallows Eve, and so our routine was less hectic and more fun. Tomorrow we were allowed to get up half an hour later, because tonight we could stay up later, too. After taking the hot water up to the bedrooms, instead of polishing and brushing, I was to help Cook bake the soul cakes for the soulers who came souling at sunset. We gave them the cakes and food in return for prayers for the dead.
It was fun helping Cook, who never let me near the oven any other day. She told me to cream the butter and sugar together until it was fluffy and pale, then I beat in the eggs, one at a time. She said I wasn’t to stop until my wrist ached. I watched Cook while she added the flour, spices, currants and raisins to make a soft dough. After that, she let me help her shape small flat cakes and make a cross on top with a knife. We cooked at least eight batches of fifteen cakes. It took us over two hours! But the smell was so delicious, I was sorry when we finished.
After our late lunch it was almost dark, because heavy black clouds covered the sky. Cook said a thunderstorm was approaching, and Mrs. Leah said we could have some free time, because Mrs. Rochester would be having dinner alone, as Miss Adele and Master John were going to a Hallows Eve dinner at the Rochester Arms. Simon suggested we should tell stories of ghosts in preparation for their coming in the evening, and we all agreed. He started by telling us about the ghost he had seen that morning in Mr. Rochester’s bedroom. His was the simplest and shortest story, but he was such a good storyteller, we were all mesmerised by his tale.
“I was closing the master’s curtains and collecting the dinner tray when the strange events happened. The master’s eyes were bloodshot and wide open. He was possessed by a spirit. He pushed the bedclothes away, stood up and started speaking. His voice became low and powerful and strange words in another tongue, like a chant or a prayer, started coming out of his mouth. When I spoke to him he ignored me, as if he didn’t hear me or see me. He walked straight to the mirror. I was quite surprised, because he hasn’t walked in months. He stood in front of it and continued speaking as if he were conversing with someone. Then it happened. I looked into the mirror and I saw something which was not his reflection. I saw something monstrous shining from the mirror, and the whole room lit up, as if lightning had struck.”
When he finished he looked at Michael. “You went into the room next with the mistress. Tell us what you saw, Michael. Did you see the ghost?”
“I saw a man who is sick and dying. He was standing in front of the mirror with a candle in his hand, saying he had to burn himself to purge his sins before he died.”
We all gasped to at the image of the master in such a guise.
“Go on! What did you see in the mirror?” screeched Christy.
“Mirrors are where spirits hide during the daytime to come out at night with the stars,” sentenced Simon with authority.
“There was nothing in the mirror, save his own reflection, the reflection of a withered, sick, and remorseful shadow of a man,” added Michael.
We gasped again, this time with horror at the idea of our solemn and respected master in such a pitiful situation.
“I don’t think it is your place to speak of your master in such undignified terms,” said Mrs. Leah most gravely.
“It is what I saw, what we both saw, Mrs. Rochester and I.”
Mrs. Leah shot a daggered look at Michael. “I am the only person here who knew the master when he was a younger man in good health, and I can assure you that he was a great man. It pains me deeply to see him in his current condition.”
We all noticed she said the last words with tears in her eyes and sorrow in her heart. I thought it was unusual in Leah. I never thought she would have those feelings for men, but perhaps she did, too. I couldn’t understand how anyone could speak kindly of Mr. Rochester anyway, he was usually grumpy, almost always short tempered, and never had a kind word for any of us.
Leah and Michael were staring at each other harshly, as if they wanted to have a big argument. We all knew Leah did not like Michael. I always thought it was because he was so good looking and manly, and she didn’t think much of virile men, or it could be because he and Susan were the mistress’ pets. Leah was well-mannered with them, but they always kept their distance. I was surprised at Michael’s reaction too, because I had never in five years seen Michael stare so furiously at anyone. He surprised us again by speaking riddles.
“It is a wise man who repents when the kingdom of Heaven is at hand, because after death comes judgment. Sinners will go away into eternal punishment while the righteous into eternal life.”
“Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Mr. Rochester’s presence will remain in all our hearts, especially his wife’s, after death. His presence will never leave Eyre Hall,” Leah replied with another riddle.
I did not understand what they were saying, but I did realise they were coming close to having an argument, although I wasn’t sure about what. Anyway, to change the subject, I volunteered to continue with another ghost story. I told the story my grandfather used to tell us on Hallows Eve.
“My grandfather always told us a chair and a plate of food must be left at the table for the recently departed. He said it was because they would protect us from the demons that stalk humans on the last day of October every year.
“This is a true story that happened to someone he knew and loved dearly, a man who forgot to set out the chair and cake for his good wife. She had taken her own life, so her spirit was condemned to roam like the living dead until she was freed by the ring. This spirit came down on All Souls Eve from a mysterious faraway island, where she lived all alone, since she had fallen into an eternal sleep unable to live with the dead or with the living. Her husband was still in the world of the living, sitting by the fire in his home, praying for all the souls with his daughters and granddaughters.
“A stray dog, more a werewolf than a dog, passed their front door, peered in through the window, savage it was, but so terrified it could not bark. A howling win
d pushed open the door and a poor little girl dressed in white, like an angel, appeared in the doorway out of a mysterious cloud. ‘I have come for the ring,’ she said. ‘You must give me the ring, or tonight I must take one of the dwellers in this house.’ His daughters were terrified at the unearthly being.
‘Close the door,’ said the old man, crouching by the fire. ‘We have no ring! Pull the curtains and let us pray.’
“His daughter said, ‘I have the ring. Mother came to my room last night, and she gave it to me.’ But no one heard her.
“She said to her daughter, ‘Here it is.’
“She said to her father, ‘Here it is.’
“She said to her sister, ‘Here it is.’
“Still no one heard her. She touched their shoulders, and they felt nothing. The door sprang open once more, the curtains were torn by a sudden gust of wind, and the wolf howled and jumped through the wall, turning into a dragon spitting fire out of his mouth. No one knows what happened, because the next morning, all the women appeared lifeless in their beds. The angel wept. The ring was on the table. She took it away to try and save another soul the following year.”
When I finished, Mrs. Leah volunteered to tell the third ghost story. Mrs. Leah wasn’t a bad housekeeper. She was sometimes short-tempered and moody, like spinsters usually were, but she didn’t interfere in our work; as long as things were done, she didn’t complain. She didn’t ever shout at any of us, not even Christy. She didn’t like men, I noticed that soon enough. She liked to watch us get dressed in the mornings, and she liked to bathe us on Saturday evenings. Said it was to make sure we were good and clean, but I knew she liked running her fingers round our tits and fannies.
I reckoned there weren’t no harm in it. I didn’t mind, and neither did Christy. I had to put up with a lot more prodding from my brothers when I was at home, before our parents died. We all slept in the same bed. I was the oldest. When they were little, they wouldn’t stop until I showed them all I had down there, and they had a good poke. That was at first, then they got older, found out what the adults did, and they wouldn’t stop till I let them get inside me. There were three of them and they were rough, so I never fought or complained. I had seen what happened to my mum when she said no to my dad. You couldn’t say no to men, or they beat you up and got their own way anyway.