The Other Wife

by Juliet Bell

  ‘That’ll have to do for now. We need to get you down to the homestead. If you wait here, I’ll run back and get a car.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid. We’ll take the bike.’

  I sat back on my heels and took in the scene. The motorbike was lying across the track but didn’t look to be damaged. I turned back to my patient. A pair of intense grey eyes stared back at me from a face that was handsome in a masculine, angular sort of way. There was something not quite symmetrical about it, but I couldn’t see what. His eyes were perfect. His lips were full and strong-looking. His jawline was clean and his brow was clear. The only obvious imperfection in the face was a small scar, a scratch really, that ran down his right cheek. Every element was just right, but somehow the whole disconcerted me. I dragged my attention back to his leg. The blood wasn’t coming through the material of the shirt yet, but the wound had looked deep. I wasn’t sure he was in any state to ride a motorbike.

  ‘Well, help me up, woman.’ I found myself doing as I was told without protest, scrambling to my feet and then reaching down towards him. His large hands closed around mine and I braced myself as his weight almost pulled me over. He staggered upright, hopping on one leg. Instinctively I moved closer, slipping my arm around his body to steady him. He, in his turn, put his arm around my shoulder, resting his weight against me.

  I felt a tremor. His body pressed unexpectedly against mine.

  ‘Help me over to the bike.’ I walked him towards the bike where we stopped as he surveyed the damage.

  Standing still, I could feel the heat of his body, and the curve of muscle and sinew beneath that flesh, firmer and more definite than the softness I associated with an embrace. My heart was pounding in my chest. With shock. With fear for what could have happened to both of us if he’d struck me with the bike. With something else as well. I’d never been this close to a man before, and I was scared, I suppose. I could have pushed him away but he would have fallen back to the road. His arm was locked so forcefully around my shoulders anyway, that I doubted I could break free.

  ‘We need to lift the bike. Let me get balanced here – then you go around to the other side.’

  With him standing on his good leg and barking instructions at the same time, I struggled to lift the bike on my own. It wasn’t as heavy as I’d feared but it was unwieldy and my muscles were tiring in the heat of the sun. At last I got the thing upright.

  ‘Now you’re going to have to start it.’

  ‘Me?’ I had barely managed to get a licence to drive a car. A bike was way beyond my experience.

  He pointed to a small pedal at the same side of the bike as his injured leg. ‘It’s a kick-start. I certainly can’t.’

  Before I could say anything more, he hopped to the side of the bike. Keeping all his weight on his good leg, he swung his bad leg over the bike and settled onto the seat.

  He gestured to the small pedal again. ‘That’s the one. It’ll probably take all your weight, there’s not much to you.’

  ‘I…’ I made a half-hearted jab at the pedal with my foot.

  ‘Come on, woman. Stamp on it. I don’t know how long I can hold the bike like this.’

  Reluctantly, I moved closer to him and the machine. I placed my foot on the pedal and pushed down with all my might. The pedal moved slowly downwards, but the engine didn’t so much as cough.

  ‘Harder. Put your foot on, then stand and jump on it. Come on.’

  I took a deep breath, placed my foot on the pedal and half-jumped, pushing down with all my weight. The engine roared into life as I staggered away.

  ‘Get on.’

  I barely heard the command over the roar of the engine. Stepping back, I shook my head. I’d never been on a motorbike.

  ‘I’m quite capable of walking.’ I don’t know what unnerved me more – the thought of an accident like the one I’d just witnessed, or the thought of wrapping my arms around that torso, and pressing myself against this stranger’s body.

  ‘Come on.’ He reached out one hand towards me.

  I had no choice. I moved to the bike and carefully swung myself onto the seat behind him.

  ‘Hold tight.’

  He didn’t have to tell me twice. He revved the engine and as the bike leapt away like a racing horse, I wrapped my hands around him and held on for dear life.

  The journey couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but a lifetime later we pulled up in front of Thornfield homestead. The engine spluttered into silence as I sat there, my face pressed against his back, breathing in the scent of adventure, excitement and him.

  ‘You can let go now.’

  Was he laughing at me? I slowly removed my hands and swung off the bike. Then people swarmed out into the covered courtyard. Grace. Max. And two strangers. All staring at us.

  ‘My God! Edward!’

  The cry came from a beautiful blonde woman I didn’t recognise. Edward? I almost staggered as realisation hit home, and I looked once more into the cool grey eyes of Edward Rochester, my new boss.

  The group ferried Edward into the house and into the big living room that we didn’t normally use, Max supporting Edward and frowning at his employer. ‘I thought you were getting a work bike.’

  Edward slapped him in the chest. ‘Don’t be a bore, Max. You saw how she goes. Much more fun than some lightweight little dirt bike.’

  I caught the look Max and Grace exchanged, but didn’t comment. The rest of the group were too engrossed with making sure Edward was comfortable to notice.

  I made my way upstairs to check on Adele. With the accident I’d been away longer than I’d intended, so I was surprised that she wasn’t with the group who rushed out to greet us. I’d have expected her to be desperate to be part of whatever excitement was going on. I found her sitting on her bed with her knees pulled up to her chest.

  ‘What’s the matter, sweetheart?’

  Adele shrugged.

  ‘Mr Rochester is back.’

  The little girl turned towards me, her face brightening.

  ‘I thought you’d be downstairs waiting. I think there are some friends of his visiting too.’

  She frowned at that. ‘I know. I saw them.’

  Normally Adele was overjoyed at any visitor or new happening on the property.

  I sat down next to her. ‘I thought you said your daddy always brought you a present back. Don’t you want to see what he’s got you?’

  A moment of indecision danced across her face. I waited for her to come around on her own. If I tried to chivvy her, she’d only retreat back into her inexplicable sulk.

  Eventually she straightened out her legs and slid off the bed.

  I followed her to the stairway. ‘Now, just so you know, your daddy had a little accident on his motorbike.’

  She gasped in fear.

  ‘He’s going to be all right, but he’s hurt his leg, so you need to be a bit gentle. All right?’

  She nodded seriously, but, as soon as we were through the living room door, any suggestion of calm was forgotten. Adele ran towards her father. ‘Daddy! What did you bring me?’

  ‘Adele. Shh. Calm down.’ I put my hand gently on her shoulder. ‘What did I tell you just now?’

  ‘That Daddy had an accident.’

  ‘That’s right.’ Grace was kneeling in front of Edward with a bowl of water and a cloth. The wound didn’t look so bad now that she’d neatly cut a section of his moleskins away and cleaned the blood up. I kept my hand on Adele’s shoulder. ‘Now let’s wait here until Mrs Fairfax has finished putting a new dressing on.’

  The delay gave me time to properly take in the surroundings. Grace must have cleaned the room in preparation for Mr Rochester coming home. I could have cursed her for not warning me. And I could have cursed her for not telling me we were having guests as well. I took the opportunity, while everyone was distracted by Edward’s injury, to look properly at our visitors. The man was slim, shorter and slighter than Max, with a thin little moustache. His hand was tappi
ng on the arm of the couch, out of nerves or impatience maybe.

  The woman was more striking. Blonde hair, painted nails, tiny little shorts and high wedge-heeled shoes. Not the sort of thing I’d ever wear – certainly not the sort of thing anyone would wear around Thornfield. I realised that Adele was in her best dress as well – pale pink with tiny yellow flowers on it. Suddenly my sweat- and blood-stained shorts and top felt out of place. ‘I should go and change,’ I blurted out.

  The woman raised her face towards me and nodded theatrically.

  Edward shook his head. ‘Don’t you dare. I want lots of reminders of how brave I was and how badly hurt I am.’

  My cheeks must have coloured red. This wasn’t the impression I wanted to present to my employer or his friends. His blood was on my t-shirt, and when I looked down I saw that it was marking my arms as well. My knees were stained red from kneeling in the dirt, and my hair was matted with dust from the bike ride. The woman on the couch sniggered.

  Grace was starting to cover Edward’s wound with a dressing now. ‘Look, Adele. Nearly done.’ Edward smiled. ‘Why don’t you say hello to your mother while you wait?’

  My frown mirrored Adele’s but the child walked obediently across the room and stopped in front of the blonde woman, who sighed dramatically.

  ‘Hello, Mummy.’

  ‘How many times do I tell you?’

  ‘Sorry. Hello, Celine.’

  The stranger pulled a face. ‘That’s better. Anyway, Edward, we’ve said hello already while we were waiting for you to reappear.’ She barely looked at her daughter. ‘I thought you were supposed to be here yesterday.’

  Edward shrugged. ‘I flew out to Bourke, but then I met a guy who used to do work for my dad and he wanted to buy me a beer so…’

  ‘So you just didn’t want to be rude?’ The woman’s voice was teasing, intimate even. Well, of course. If she was Adele’s mother then she and Edward must have… My mind went back to that evening in Gail’s apartment. Gail on the table, that naked man…

  The woman turned her attention to me. ‘So you’re Adele’s new nanny?’

  ‘Tutor.’ I was fighting to keep my tone civil, but I didn’t know what to make of this stranger at all. A woman who showed no interest in her daughter, a daughter who was the brightest, most joyful of little girls. Children could be left without mothers for all sorts of reasons. Orphans like Helen… or children like me, taken from loving parents by the authorities for whatever reason. When I’d met Adele, I’d guessed that maybe a long time ago there was a Mrs Rochester and something awful had happened to her. Obviously I had guessed wrong.

  ‘Good. Edward always gets the best people to take care of Adele.’

  I stood my ground. ‘But now you’re here I’m sure you’ll want to spend some time with her yourself.’

  The woman smiled. ‘Of course.’

  ‘And how long are you staying?’

  ‘Miss Eyre!’ Edward’s voice was sharp. He looked from me to Celine and back again. There was a hint of a laugh in his expression. ‘No need to interrogate my guests.’

  ‘Sorry, Mr Rochester.’ I stuttered out an apology. He was right, of course. I was here to care for Adele. The personal lives of the rest of the household were not my business.

  Grace finished her first aid and hauled herself up to her feet, then turned to Adele. ‘There you are, pet. All ready for cuddles.’

  Adele bounded over to her father. ‘Did you bring me a present?’

  ‘Adele!’ I raised my voice in admonishment. It wasn’t polite to ask for presents.

  ‘It’s all right.’ Edward dismissed my shock with a wave of his hand. ‘Adele understands how the world works better than you, Miss Eyre. Here she is, all pretty and smiling, and she gets a present. But you, you stand there all grubby and disapproving.’ He grinned. ‘So no present for you.’

  I didn’t know how to answer him. He had every right to raise his daughter as he wished, and I did not want to lose my job. But staying silent had never been my strongest trait. I remembered all the times in school that Helen had had to caution me to calm down and bite my tongue. Well, Helen wasn’t here now.

  ‘I don’t think it’s good for Adele to be quite so mercenary,’ I said, nodding to the chair where Adele was even now ignoring Mr Rochester while eagerly unwrapping his latest gift. ‘She hasn’t even asked about your leg.’

  ‘Neither have you, and you caused the accident in the first place.’

  ‘I did not.’ The denial was out before I had time to think. ‘If you’d been riding more carefully, you wouldn’t have crashed.’

  I cringed inwardly. I was arguing with my employer, the man whose home I was living in, in front of his guests. This wasn’t how I’d been taught at school. I’d been taught to be polite, to be demure in front of men and strangers. I risked a look at his face to gauge his reaction.

  His lips twitched in a slow smile. ‘Well, fortunately the leg is fine.’ He gestured towards a tray on the shelf behind me. ‘You could pour me a glass of liquid painkiller by way of an apology, though.’

  My hands were shaking slightly as I poured whisky into one of the short, stout tumblers. Mr Rochester smiled more fully as I handed him the glass. ‘Good. I like a woman who pours generous measures.’

  I nodded. I had no idea how much whisky one was supposed to drink.

  ‘And drinks for my friends?’

  I bristled slightly at that. I was Adele’s tutor, not a maid. Grace bustled past me before I could open my mouth. ‘I’ll get those. Whisky, Mr Mason?’

  I turned my attention back to Adele, who had ripped the paper off her present and was holding it up for my attention. ‘Ooh. Look, Jane… Isn’t she beautiful? And she has her own car and all these pretty, pretty clothes.’

  As well as the elegant blonde doll, she had a pink sports car still in the box, and a whole pile of outfits. I couldn’t begin to imagine what it would have all cost. ‘They are lovely, Adele. Did you say a proper thank-you to your father?’

  ‘Thank you, Daddy.’ The little girl skipped across the room to squeeze her father around the neck, before shuffling back to her mother. ‘Do you want to play with me?’

  The woman stiffened slightly in her seat. ‘I’m sure the nanny will play with you.’

  Edward laughed. ‘Don’t be dull, Celine. It’s just dressing-up on a smaller scale. Right up your street.’

  The woman moved to squat uncomfortably on the floor, holding Adele’s new doll at arm’s length while the child ripped the car out of the packaging. How could anyone be so uncomfortable with a little girl? I heard Helen’s voice in my head telling me not to judge, but really, what sort of mother had no interest in playing with her own child?

  ‘I’ll be getting back down to the kitchen.’ I was desperate to follow Grace out of the room, but she pressed a glass of whisky into my hand before she departed, indicating, I assumed, that I was supposed to stay where I was. I hadn’t thought about this. Before Mr Rochester came home, everything had been so easy. We’d lived mainly in our own rooms and in the kitchen and on the veranda. Nobody had stood on ceremony because there was only Grace, Adele and myself around. Max kept himself to himself so far as we were concerned, although I wasn’t sure the women down at the Aboriginal camp would have said the same.

  The mood in the house had changed as soon as Mr Rochester and his friends stepped through the door. Now Max was here, apparently best of friends with his boss. Grace was clear in her role as the housekeeper, and I wasn’t sure what I was or where I should be. I raised my glass to my face, sniffing cautiously at the amber liquid. Even without tasting I could feel the scent of strong alcohol burning the back of my nostrils. I held the glass down by my side, hoping for an opportunity to leave it somewhere inconspicuous.

  Mr Rochester took a swig from his glass. ‘Max, did I see new buildings on the Abo camp?’

  Max nodded. ‘They’re going to pull down a couple of the older shacks. I said they could put new ones up so long as it didn
’t interfere with work.’

  Edward grunted in apparent disapproval. ‘They act like they own this place.’

  Max didn’t reply.

  The other man, Richard, nodded enthusiastically. ‘But what did they do with this land when they had it for thousands of years?’

  ‘Exactly. My family made this place what it is. They could do with showing a bit more gratitude.’

  ‘It’s that bloody land-rights rubbish still rumbling on. Just because a few stockmen up in the Territory went on strike, graziers are supposed to just hand over land they have owned and worked for generations.’ Mason was vehement.

  ‘Not likely.’ Max was equally forceful. ‘And there won’t be any of that here on Thornfield. If my workers stop, I’ll throw them off the place and get others. They know it too. Lazy bastards that they are.’

  All the Aboriginals I’d met had been polite and most seemed to work far more than Max. Peggy, in particular, had been kind to me and seemed very fond of Adele. My discomfort must have shown on my face.

  ‘The new tutor doesn’t agree,’ commented Edward. There was an unmistakable hint of derision in his voice. I dropped my gaze to the floor. I hadn’t meant my thoughts to show on my face.

  ‘I don’t know about these things,’ I muttered.

  ‘Clearly not. I grew up on this land. My father and his father made this property one of the richest in the country. This land would be worth nothing without the Rochesters. My family made this place.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Rochester.’

  His gaze didn’t leave me as he took another slug of his drink. ‘I’m not sure about this Mr Rochester business. It sounds like my father.’

  ‘Sorry, Mr…’ My voice tailed off. I had no idea what to call him. The nice, relaxed, little life at Thornfield that I’d had weeks to get used to, seemed to have evaporated this afternoon.

  ‘Because I won’t call you Miss Eyre. Or do you think Jane is too informal?’ The hint of laughter in his eyes, that had vanished when he was talking about the Aboriginal workers and his family’s place on this land, was back.

  ‘Well, I do work for you.’ I paused, before adding, ‘Mr Rochester.’