The Other Wife

by Juliet Bell

‘Indeed you do.’

  He leant back and took another slow drink, his eyes never leaving my face as he did. I was still marked with blood, sweat and dust from the accident. But, unlike the rest of the assembled party, I realised, so was he. It seemed then that the rest of the room and the people in it faded to nothing, leaving Mr Rochester and I together in some private place.

  ‘And so you’re determined to continue to call me Mr Rochester? Yes, yes, you are.’ He answered his own question before I had time to frame a reply.

  ‘Very well, we’ll be formal, you and I, Miss Eyre. But I wonder for how long? This is the outback. Formality doesn’t sit well out here. Shall we make a bet on how long it’ll be before you call me Edward?’

  I struggled to find an answer and he smiled, leaning forward ever so slightly in his chair.

  ‘I think I shall enjoy having you here at Thornfield… Miss Eyre.’

  I held his gaze. I had no choice. There was something in those grey eyes that seemed like he knew me inside and out already.

  ‘You’re not doing it right.’ Adele’s voice cut through the cloud that seemed to have descended between myself and Edward, and the rest of the room. I pulled my gaze away from her father and looked towards her as she tossed her new doll onto the floor.

  A flash of anguish appeared on her mother’s face just for a second, before she found a smile. ‘Well, maybe it’s time for the nanny to take over then.’ The woman pulled herself to her feet and glanced towards the window. ‘It must have cooled off a bit by now. Why don’t we take our drinks out into the courtyard before dinner? Here, Edward, let me help you.’

  She held out her hand. Mr Rochester slowly got to his feet and put his arm around the beautiful blonde woman.

  ‘Yes, Celine. Let’s do that. I could use some cheerful company.’

  Celine put her arm around his waist, and I watched as he rested his weight against her on the way to the door. Max and Richard followed behind like puppy dogs chasing after their master. Richard muttered about him and Edward needing to deal with something private before dinner, but they were out of the room before Mr Rochester had chance to answer.

  ‘Pick up your things now, Adele. We’ll take them up to the playroom.’

  I sat down in the chair, folding my arms to show Adele that I expected her to do her own tidying. It gave me a moment to gather my scattered thoughts and emotions. Before today, I realised, I’d never put my arms around a man, I’d never flirted with a man. I almost let out a laugh at the thought. Obviously Mr Rochester hadn’t been flirting with me. He was a man of the world and I was…I looked down at my own body…I was neat and tidy at best, and today I was neither of those things. And I was his employee. The idea that he saw me in the same way that he saw a stunning woman like Celine was truly laughable.

  But even so it comforted me.

  The door rattled on its hinges as the key was turned from the outside. He was here. As soon as she’d seen him arrive, Betty had known that he would come and see her as soon as he got the chance. In fact it was earlier than she’d expected. That was good. That might mean that Grace had told him where she was, and he was angry and had come to explain that he’d never meant for her to stay in here. He’d been angry that night, but now he’d calmed down and it was all a terrible misunderstanding. After all, they’d never had their own special time together. That time on the island when they’d been supposed to get to know each other. To learn to love each other. They’d never had that. Maybe they could have that now, and then everything would be all right. She could make him love her. She just knew she could.

  She waited in the hallway as the door swung open, smoothing down her crumpled dress. She tugged at her wild hair, but she no longer had the honey and milk, or any of the fancy concoctions Mr Mason had paid for, to straighten it. Betty placed her bare feet carefully, turned her body and held herself just so to remind Edward that he loved her body.

  It wasn’t Edward.

  At least it wasn’t just Edward. She could see the tall figure of her husband beyond the door, but it was Richard who came in. He hesitated when he saw her. ‘Eliza?’

  She shook her head. That wasn’t right. She wasn’t Eliza. She was Elizabeth now. Or Lizzybeth or someone else entirely.

  Richard was staring at her. ‘Oh my God.’

  Behind him, Edward was nodding. ‘You see? It’s for her own good. Grace said she got out last week. She terrified the new nanny.’

  ‘I see.’ Richard nodded uncomfortably and stepped back towards the door.

  Betty panicked. They’d come to see her, hadn’t they? ‘Don’t go!’

  Richard paused. ‘We’ve got things to do, Eliza.’

  Edward’s voice was low but definite. ‘Grace will bring you some supper.’

  It didn’t make sense. They’d had a fight. They’d both been angry, but now Edward had come back and everything would get back to normal. ‘But, I’m sorry.’

  Edward didn’t reply. He didn’t even come properly onto her space.

  ‘It was just an argument. I’m sorry.’ She was begging now, feeling desperate with a fear she hadn’t known was there.

  ‘Come on.’ Her husband’s voice was beckoning Richard away. ‘You’ve seen what she’s like.’

  What did that even mean? What was Betty like? She was like she’d always been. She was trying to be the wife she was supposed to be. She was trying to take care of Adele. She was trying to do all the right things, but they wouldn’t let her.

  Richard nodded. ‘She was always crazy.’

  ‘No!’ Betty yelled before she had time to think. She was not crazy. If she was confused, it was because she was locked in this prison. She launched herself at Richard, catching him around the cheek with her fingers. ‘Don’t leave me here.’

  He stumbled back. She flung herself at him again. This time he was prepared. His hands came up to defend himself and pushed her backwards. He staggered through the door and slammed it. She rushed forward again, but her way was blocked. ‘Don’t leave me!’

  She banged on the door with her fists. It was hopeless. She heard the key turn and then slide away. It wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t a misunderstanding. It was a trap.

  She leant on the wood, feeling the grain against her cheek. They hadn’t gone. She hadn’t heard their footsteps disappear into the house. She listened.

  ‘The new nanny thought she was half Abo.’

  ‘That’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Is it? She’s not really your sister, is she? What do you even know about her? She could be anything. I don’t even know what I married.’

  Then the footsteps came and the voices disappeared. Betty was alone.

  Chapter 42

  The next morning Grace brought drawing paper and coloured pencils. Betty pushed them away. She wasn’t a child and she didn’t want to be treated like one.

  ‘Can you stay and talk?’

  Grace hesitated. ‘There’s a lot to be getting on with.’

  ‘I could help?’ Betty watched the other woman carefully, and the expression she was waiting for appeared. That hint of tension and fear when Betty suggested coming with her. ‘You think I’m crazy?’

  Grace didn’t reply. She didn’t need to. A night lying awake staring at the ceiling had made everything clearer. Edward thought she was mad. Grace thought she was mad. Grace thought that keeping her here really was for her own good.

  ‘You all think I’m crazy.’

  Grace gestured to the colouring things. ‘Why not do one of your activities? You know how they calm you.’

  Betty didn’t want to be calmed anymore. She laughed out loud at the idea, and caught Grace’s tiny step backwards out of the corner of her eye. The idea was laughable, though. She’d genuinely thought this was a misunderstanding. Just a row that had got out of hand. She’d really thought if she was calm when Edward returned, this would all be over. They could make up and everything would be right again. She knew differently now. There was to be no getting out. Her husband though
t she was crazy. She plucked the pad and pencils from the table and flung them on the floor. She didn’t need children’s things to calm her down. She didn’t need to calm down. She needed to get out of here.

  Grace retreated down her little stairs and Betty pulled her chair over to the window and stared out over the property. Everything was Edward’s as far as the eye could see. And not just the land. The horses resting in the stockyards were Edward’s. The rusted chassis of an old four-wheel drive that had clearly been left to die was Edward’s too. The little girl he lavished with gifts and then handed back to the tutor was Edward’s. Everything belonged to Edward whether he cared for it or not.

  The plain woman, Jane, was on the veranda. Betty could hear her speaking to Adele. In response the child’s happy giggle floated up to her window. There were long minutes of silence too. Betty pictured them doing schoolwork together, concentrating on reading or maths. She expected to be jealous, but the feeling she had now was something else. She didn’t want to get rid of the strange woman. She wanted to join them at their studies. She wanted to make friends with someone who didn’t know her, someone who wouldn’t call her Mrs Rochester or Eliza, and who didn’t look at her like she might explode in front of them. The woman might even call her Betty.

  ‘Edward, I’m only saying boarding school might be the best thing. She’s going to be too old for a nanny soon, and she’d have so much fun, with girls her own age rather than being stuck out here.’

  Celine’s voice carried clearly through the open doors leading to the big lounge room.

  I put my book down and looked over to where Adele was playing with her new dolls on the other side of the shady courtyard. She was singing softly to herself. I was relieved that she didn’t seem to have heard the discussion inside.

  ‘Celine, the mail plane will be here soon, then you’ll be gone for who knows how long. Don’t try to convince me you’ll be thinking about Adele while you’re off making your movie.’

  ‘I know I gave her to you. And God knows I don’t want her underfoot. But I am still her mother and I do care about…’

  Rochester’s laugh cut her off.

  ‘If you’re so certain she’d like boarding school, let’s go and ask her.’ Mr Rochester’s raised voice suggested he wasn’t happy.

  I bent my head over my book, hoping they wouldn’t realise I’d been listening. Eavesdropping wasn’t nice. Celine and Mr Rochester appeared walking close together, his hand in the small of her back, her head tilted towards him.

  ‘Adele!’ Mr Rochester sat on one of the chairs beside me.

  She dropped her doll on the ground and scurried over to her father. Her mother was standing to his far side, one hand, I noticed, resting on his shoulder. ‘Adele, Mummy thinks you would like to have some friends your own age. Would you?’

  Adele’s face broke into a smile, and she nodded instantly.

  ‘Well, you‘d have lots of friends if you went to boarding school. Would you like that?’

  My fingers tightened around my book as I tried to hold the tension inside my body. Say no, little one, I wanted to yell. Boarding school wasn’t always all midnight feasts and girls together having lots of fun. It could be terribly lonely. The other girls might be her friends, but equally they might be hateful. She could be cast out, or bullied, or tempted into sin.

  ‘Would Jane come with me?’

  Mr Rochester shook his head. ‘No, Adele. The school would have its own teachers.’

  ‘Then I don’t want to go.’ Adele didn’t stamp her foot, but her imperious tone suggested that, despite Celine’s absence, there was still something of her mother in the little girl. I wanted to hug her for her love and loyalty.

  ‘There you go, Celine – the nanny isn’t as dull as you thought.’ He might have been speaking to Celine, but his eyes were on me, with that expression I’d noticed that first day he came home – the one that made me feel like all his attention was mine alone. It was uncomfortable, but I wasn’t sure if my own discomfort was born of dislike or unfamiliarity with any sort of attention. I risked a quick glance at Celine. The look in her eyes did nothing to ease my disquiet.

  ‘So that’s settled. Miss Eyre is going to continue on as Adele’s tutor.’ Rochester paused and cocked his head. ‘Is that the mail plane I hear? You’d better get your things together. Max will take you and Mason down to the strip.’

  Adele’s face fell, but only a little. ‘You’re going away, Mummy?’

  ‘Yes, my darling. Mummy is going to America. She’s got a role in a new film. Can you imagine, Adele? A proper Hollywood movie. Won’t that be exciting?’

  ‘Yes,’ Adele said quietly, and then she moved closer to me and put her small hand in mine. I squeezed her hand tightly.

  There was a sudden flurry of movement as Max arrived with the ute, and Mason arrived with his bags. After a few minutes, the bags were loaded and the ute was pulling away towards the airstrip. To my surprise, Mr Rochester didn’t go with them. He stayed with Adele and me.

  We stood there until the plane was airborne, then Mr Rochester turned to his daughter. ‘Adele, do you think you could find Grace and ask her to give you milk and biscuits? Miss Eyre and I have some things we need to talk about.’

  ‘Yes, Daddy.’

  As Adele trotted back inside, Rochester moved to my side.

  ‘Miss Eyre, let’s go inside.’ He placed a hand upon my arm. A gentle touch but one with confidence behind it.

  ‘Very well.’ I gently moved away from his hand and then wished I hadn’t. The contact with another adult was more welcome than I could have expected.

  The door at the front of the house slammed closed, and their footsteps vanished. Betty stepped away from the window where she had been watching and listening, because that’s all she had. She was glad Richard had left with Adele’s mother. He frightened her. But it wasn’t Mason haunting her.

  That touch. That little familiarity with this new woman. Edward was still her husband, and there was a small punch of jealousy in her heart. But that wasn’t important. Her unrest had more to do with the woman, Jane, than with Edward. Betty was certain that she didn’t want Edward for herself anymore, but she didn’t want Edward to own another thing. To own another person.

  Edward owned Elizabeth.. For all the bonhomie and matey back-slapping, he owned Max and Richard too. He owned Jimmy and Peggy. However much he talked about ‘those kinds of people’ being good workers, they meant no more to him than the cattle that ranged across the land or the chooks that Grace kept behind the kitchen. She didn’t want him to think he owned this other young woman. This Jane. And she wouldn’t let him think he owned Adele either.

  ‘Please shut the door.’ Rochester was pouring himself a drink. He picked up a second glass. ‘The last time I offered you a whisky I don’t think you drank anything.’

  My cheeks flushed red. ‘I didn’t think you’d noticed. I don’t really drink much.’

  ‘I insist.’ He handed me a heavy crystal glass. The golden liquid inside had the same familiar pungent odour that made me want to gag.

  ‘Go on. Try it.’

  I didn’t want to, but he was standing so close to me I felt as if I was being subsumed within him. I could say no. I could refuse. But I wanted to face his challenge. I wanted to be worthy. I wanted to be like Celine and Richard, and the people Mr Rochester admired.

  I wanted him to admire me.

  Trying to avoid the sharp whisky fumes, I raised the glass and took a sip. It was horrid. I couldn’t even pretend. He laughed at my pursed lips and rapidly shaking head, before he took the glass off me and placed it back on the sideboard.

  I composed myself as best I could. After all, we were here to talk about Adele. Weren’t we? ‘Adele is doing very well with her classes.’

  ‘Adele is one of many things I’d like to talk to you about, Miss Eyre.’ He spoke my name slowly, almost rolling the words around his tongue. The words were formal, but the tone was not. I almost shivered. His low voice was
practically a caress. I had never heard my name spoken quite like that before. At that moment I realised we were alone. Truly alone. Celine and Richard had left. Max was out working the property somewhere, and neither Grace nor Adele seemed to fit into this picture.

  He was my employer. I suddenly remembered my silly idea about the father of the house falling in love with the nanny, like in The Sound of Music. I wished I hadn’t. My cheeks felt as if they were flushing pink.

  His lips twitched, as if he sensed my discomfort.

  ‘So, Adele seems to like you more than she likes her mother.’ He paused. ‘But that’s not saying much. Celine was never a natural mother.’

  I didn’t reply. It wasn’t my place to criticise.

  ‘Of course.’ His lips twitched again, never quite settling into a smile. ‘I sense that you are an easy person to like, Miss Eyre. At least I suspect you could be – would you like me to like you?’

  He was challenging me again, putting me on the spot, pushing me to show that I was up to his standard somehow. In the spotlight of his attention, his approval felt like everything, but I didn’t know how to say that without giving too much of myself away.

  ‘Mr Rochester, I have always tried to maintain good relationships with my students and my colleagues and my employers.’ A tiny emphasis on the last word was all I dared.

  ‘But Adele seems to like you more than me,’ he carried on. ‘And I’m the one who brings her presents. How do you explain that, Miss Eyre?’

  I couldn’t tell if his tone was entirely serious, but this time I answered more bluntly. Caring for children was something I felt I did understand.

  ‘Children are easily swayed by gifts, but they forget the excitement quickly. Time is what you can’t buy, and she spends a lot more time with me.’

  ‘Yes, she does.’ He moved closer to me. Only a few inches separated us now. In the silence, I could hear his breathing. The voice of common sense in my head told me to take a step away. I stayed where I was.

  ‘Maybe we should change that. If she spent time with someone else, you would have more time to yourself … to pursue other interests. I imagine you have other interests, Miss Eyre.’