by Juliet Bell
‘It was an accident.’ Her voice was low and definite, not shrill like someone who was out of their mind. It made no difference.
‘How did you get out?’ He was dragging her away from the room. And the bed, and the lovely flames.
‘I just wanted to talk to you.’
They had reached the locked door leading to her prison. Edwards banged fiercely a couple of times.
‘Grace. Damn you, Grace.’
The door opened and Grace was there. ‘Take care of this.’ Edward shoved Betty forward. She fell onto her hands and knees.
‘No. Edward… No.’
The door slammed behind her and he was gone.
Something dragged me out of my heavy slumber. A bad dream, perhaps. Slowly I forced my eyes open and dragged my consciousness more fully into the waking world. As I lay blinking up at the ceiling, I realised I could smell smoke.
I flung myself out of bed and ran from my room. My first thought was for Adele. I opened the door to her room and she was sitting in bed, her eyes wide with fright.
‘Stay there, Adele. Promise me. I’ll be back when I find out what’s wrong.’
She nodded.
As I ran along the corridor, the smell of smoke was getting stronger, and for an instant I thought of going back to get Adele. But there was no sign of flames. I turned the corner towards the main stairs and I saw the flickering light coming out of Edward’s room. ‘Oh my God!’
I was nearly at the door when I saw Edward himself. He was staggering towards me from the other corridor, the corridor that was sealed off from the rest of the house.
As he looked up, light flickered on his face. He darted past me, and without a thought I followed him. The bed was on fire. I looked about in panic. There was no way to stop the flames. Then Edward pushed me towards the door, and grabbed something from the wall behind me. He pulled the release on the fire extinguisher and fine spray spurted out. Thrusting that at me, he wrenched a curtain from the window and began beating at the flames. I directed the foam spray at the burning bed.
Then, as if in slow motion, I saw a flicker of flame grab at the fabric of Edward’s trousers. With a silent scream, I turned the spray towards him. He fell to the floor, rolling in pain as the flames danced up his shin. The spray quickly put out the fire on his body, but Edward lay still on the ground. My heart pounding, I turned the spray back towards the bed. If I left that now to tend to Edward, the fire would win. Only when the last sparks were out, did I drop the fire extinguisher and fall to my knees next to the figure on the floor.
‘Edward?’
He winced with pain, and then grinned. ‘You called me Edward.’
I had no idea what he was talking about. ‘Lie still. I’ll get help.’
Just as I was getting to my feet, Grace appeared in the doorway. Her face was white with shock.
‘Help me get him on his feet,’ she ordered as she rushed into the room.
‘But…’
‘We have to get him into the shower and cool those burns.’
With one of us on each side of him, we helped Edward to his feet. His moleskins hung off him in blackened tatters. Carefully Grace started to pull them away. I helped, not quite realising what we were doing until Edward was naked. His skin was red in places, scorched white in others, but he wasn’t bleeding.
‘The bathroom,’ Grace instructed.
Once there, I helped Edward stand upright as Grace turned on the shower, testing the water temperature.
‘Now, get him in there.’
Edward cried with pain as the cool water struck him. My heart clenched with fear.
‘We need to call the doctor,’ I said as I too was soaked by the water.
‘The flying doctor won’t get here until tomorrow,’ Grace said. ‘We need to deal with this now.’
I don’t know how long we stood there. My shorts and top were quickly soaked. Grace was wet too as we supported Edward, directing the cool water over the burns. His moans of pain gradually lessened.
‘Grace? Is everything… Is she…?’
‘Everything is fine,’ she assured him. ‘How’s the pain?’
‘Bearable.’
‘Jane, stay with him. I need to get some things.’
I nodded. We were alone, standing under the cool flow of water. Without Grace bustling about, the atmosphere changed. We stood together without speaking, only the sound of the flowing water and Edward’s harsh breathing breaking the silence.
Eventually he spoke. ‘Jane, thank you. Without you…’
‘Don’t.’ I hadn’t done anything. If Grace hadn’t thought to get him under the shower, the situation would have been so much worse. ‘There’s no need to say anything.’
‘You saved me.’
I had no answer to that.
He seemed stronger now. His arm stayed around my shoulder, even though it was clear he no longer needed to lean on me for support.
‘Do you know how the fire started?’
He was silent for a very long time. ‘I don’t know.’
Grace’s return allowed me to move away. She assisted Edward back to his bedroom. Edward sat on a chair, and Grace wrapped a sheet over his shoulders, leaving the burn on his leg and stomach visible.
‘Jane, pass me large sheets of that kitchen wrap.’
I picked up the roll she’d brought from the kitchen and began to do as she instructed. Carefully she wrapped the burns in the protective film. When the last of the burns was covered, there was nothing more we could do for him.
‘Thank you. Both,’ he said, looking slowly around at the devastation in his room. ‘If you can just help me downstairs, I’ll sleep in the sofa in my study.’
‘You can take my room.’
He flashed me a look. ‘Maybe another night.’
Slowly we made our way downstairs where we made him as comfortable as possible on the sofa.
‘Get me a whisky.’
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea.’
‘I am in pain. The whisky will help.’
‘So will painkillers. I’m sure there must be some in this house.’
‘Whisky and painkillers. That sounds even better.’
I pursed my lips. ‘That wasn’t what I meant.’
He reached out and took my hand in his. ‘Jane, always looking after me. Where would I be without you?’
I shivered. It wasn’t exhaustion or the chill from my wet clothes. The shower. His body. His teasing. None of it had made sense. But the idea of taking care of him did. That was something, finally, that I did understand. And maybe that was all there was to being normal. You found someone to take care of and you let them take your hand.
Chapter 46
Edward healed quickly, in no small part due to Grace’s first aid, which the doctor described as excellent. I supposed that in the outback, everyone learnt quickly to deal with injuries and emergencies. The plastic wrap was replaced with proper dressings, which remained in place for several days. His skin had blistered slightly, but Edward had been very lucky and I reluctantly accepted some praise for having acted so fast. He didn’t leave his study for several days, sleeping there at night until he finally moved upstairs to another room. His own room was closed up, awaiting repairs. Even then he stayed indoors, avoiding the harsh sunlight on his healing skin.
Increasingly I would either set Adele to her schoolwork in the corner of the study so he had some company, or sit with him myself while my student was occupied with her lessons on the radio.
And so we talked, and I realised how starved of conversation my early months at Thornfield had been. Grace was friendly and welcoming, but she didn’t read the papers or listen to the news on her radio. She wasn’t a great reader or a lover of films. Edward, on the other hand, had opinions on everything. He said the Aboriginal land-rights movement was a travesty.
‘They have the same land rights I have,’ he said. ‘They can go and buy it and work it like my family did.’
His greatest disda
in was reserved for the growing campaign for New South Wales to follow other states’ lead and legalise homosexuality.
‘Can you imagine how that would go down out here?’
I glanced up from my own reading to see the headline he was gesturing at.
‘Out here we need real men.’
I nodded, not sure what else to do. I knew that it was sinful for a man to be with another man. As I thought about that I realised that I hadn’t been to confession for many, many months. Before his return I’d driven the ute into Bourke for mass. Every fortnight at first, and then once a month and now … It had been a long time since I’d last set foot inside a church.
Edward shook his head as he read to the end of the article. ‘The outback isn’t the place for pansies.’
‘What about women?’
Distracted by my thoughts of confession, I blurted out the question without censoring myself.
He frowned. ‘Well, no-one minds a bit of girl on girl. That’s not the same.’
I picked up the newspaper he’d now tossed aside. The article was talking about consenting adults, behind closed doors. Something caught in my throat as I read the anonymous testimony of a man who said he loved his partner and simply wanted to be honest about it. Without fear. What could be wrong about the wish to love without fear?
‘Anyway, it’s just a phase for girls, isn’t it? Before they settle down and get married and have children.’ He pointed at the article in my hand. ‘It’s these blokes that are the sick ones.’
I didn’t know who was right. I wanted to be a mother. I wanted to have a family. The wish for a child of my own was only made stronger by my love for Adele. I knew, with a certainty I wasn’t used to, that I could care for a child. And those were the right things for any woman to want. And that meant a proper marriage, not some inappropriate and silly schoolgirl crush.
Eventually, when he was well enough to leave the dark safety of his study, Edward asked me to join him for an evening stroll down to the river. The heat of the day was long gone and the western sky glowed in shades of pale pink and yellow as we walked towards the line of river gums.
I was struck by the stark splendour of the place. ‘It’s beautiful here.’
He nodded. ‘But isolated too.’
I couldn’t disagree with him. The isolation was part of what had drawn me here after all.
‘Are you lonely, Miss Eyre?’
‘Sometimes.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that.’ He frowned. ‘Do you want to leave?’
My heart fluttered. Was he about to tell me to go? The mere thought was enough to bring a tear to my eye.
‘No,’ I said. ‘I don’t want to leave. I have become very fond of Adele.’
‘Just Adele, Miss Eyre?’ As always he said my full name with a hint of teasing in his voice.
We had reached the river bank and he stopped walking. He didn’t look at me as he asked his question, but, despite that, I felt the answer was as important to him as it was to me. If I got it right I might be able to turn this moment into something more, something that would anchor me and make the empty feeling I carried with me go away.
‘Not just Adele.’
‘Would you be sorry to leave me as well?’
‘Yes.’ I whispered the word.
He stood back from me a little, fixing me with his gaze. ‘So you have feelings for me, too?’
‘Yes, Mr Rochester. I have.’
He smiled. ‘Do you think you might call me Edward now?’
In truth I’d thought of him as Edward for weeks now, but to admit it out loud had felt like I was giving in to something. Could it really be this simple? Could the first man I’d ever really been alone with be the one that would make all this confusion go away? Living here with him and Adele was like being part of a family. Maybe if I was brave enough I could turn that into a real family for all of us. ‘Yes, Edward.’
He closed his eyes as I spoke, and bent his head towards mine. I raised my face to meet his, remembering, without wanting to, the softness of Helen’s kisses. This was different. His hand on my cheek felt rough against my skin. And his kiss was as different from Helen’s as a cyclone to a spring shower.
His lips were strong and demanding. His hands encircled me and pulled me close. I felt his body, now recovered from his injury, strong and hard against me. The force of his passion took the breath from my body. When his lips began to move down the side of my neck, I gasped for air. His hands too began to move. The sensation was overwhelming. I felt light-headed, overwhelmed, overcome.
In panic I pushed him away.
His breath was as uneven as mine. ‘Don’t push me away.’
‘I’m sorry.’
He took a step back.
‘Jane, are you a virgin?’
Dumbly, I nodded. I had never told anyone about Helen, and I never would.
‘Really?’ There was a hint of distrust in his voice.
Despite my embarrassment I was hurt. ‘Really,’ I stuttered. Why on earth would I lie?
When I raised my eyes back to his face, he was smiling. ‘Until tomorrow then.’
‘Tomorrow?’
‘I thought we could take a walk tomorrow evening as well.’
I nodded. Getting outside when the harshest heat of the sun had passed would be best for his recovery.
‘I have no need to rush you.’
Gratitude filled my thoughts. At least, whatever else was leaving me reeling and confused, I had no doubt that Edward Rochester was, at heart, a good man.
She didn’t hear him come in. That would be one of the things Betty remembered afterwards. He’d just appeared at the end of her bed, like a spirit who’d floated in on the breeze.
He undressed quickly, briskly. Betty wasn’t sure what to think. She wanted to be Elizabeth Rochester again, didn’t she? That was what she was supposed to want. That would mean that she wasn’t crazy. Elizabeth Rochester wasn’t crazy. Elizabeth Rochester was a proper lady. She was Edward’s wife. She took care of Adele. She was someone who meant something. She was someone with a perfectly normal life. Betty was supposed to rest and get better so she could get back to normal. And normal was being Mrs Rochester, wasn’t it?
He lowered his weight on top of her.
This was what being Mrs Rochester meant, Betty thought. She pleased him in bed. She was his wildcat. That was what he expected.
It was what Richard had expected too, when he’d tried to bend her over the kitchen table at the Masons’ house. Was it what Mr Mason had expected? He’d sold her like a brood mare. Presumably he’d expected her to breed.
Her thoughts drifted backwards, deeper into her head, further away from what was happening right now in the room. She thought of Mrs Mason. Mrs Mason had wanted her to be pretty and affectionate.
And then she thought of her father. She didn’t think he’d wanted anything from her, but maybe she’d been too little to remember. His little firefly. The pet name appeared in her head unexpectedly, unremembered for years. Betty let it sit there. Daddy’s little firefly.
Above her, Edward let out a moan. Betty didn’t think about that.
Instead she thought about her mother. Her mother who had gone away because she was ill, because she couldn’t manage, because of her nerves. It hadn’t been Betty’s fault – that’s what her father had told her. It was just that sometimes, he’d said, people like Betty’s mother couldn’t cope with everything that was going on so they had to go somewhere quiet and calm until they felt better.
The bed juddered underneath them. Betty kept thinking about other things.
She wondered if she was like her mother. Was that why she had to stay here and have her tea on a tray? Was that why Grace always checked that she’d put her knife and fork back on the plate and not squirreled them away? Maybe Edward and Richard and Grace were right. Maybe there was something wrong inside her after all.
Then she wondered what the biggest fire that anyone had ever started looked like. Edward had
told her about bushfires when she’d first come here. And she remembered the sight of the burning cane from the window of the plane, back when she and Edward were newly married. When she was Mrs Rochester. She imagined herself in that little plane, taking off from the landing strip and watching everything beneath her burn again.
And those were all the things Betty thought about while her husband did what he wanted. And when he finished, he pulled his trousers back on and left her without saying a word.
Betty lay on the bed and waited for the turn of the key in the lock to safely shut her back in, to tell her she was alone again.
The second time we walked along the river, we walked a lot further. As the sun sank and the stars began to appear in the sky, I stopped and looked up at those diamond lights in the deep blue velvet. It seemed to me I had never seen so many stars before. Nor had I seen stars that shone so brightly.
‘It’s so beautiful. It takes my breath away.’
‘In this light, you are almost beautiful too, Jane.’
Edward kissed me again. This time, the kiss was softer and I was prepared. He held my hand as we walked. His skin was hard and rough, reminding me that this was something different, something new, that I just needed to get used to.
After that, we walked to the river every evening. Sometimes he kissed me. Sometimes he didn’t. I didn’t really mind either way, but I did like being with him. He was clever and well-read, and he didn’t pressure me beyond those kisses. I liked the picture that we presented, walking hand in hand along the riverbank. I loved the idea of falling in love.
‘Being with you is restful. We could have a very simple life together, you and I,’ he told me. ‘There’d be no drama with you, Jane.’
It wasn’t the magnificent declaration of love that I’d seen in the movies Gail and I had watched together, but it was enough. In fact, it was exactly right. I didn’t have the heart for a great romance. I’d thought I’d had that before and it had been taken from me, leaving me with nothing more than memories I could scarcely keep hold of anymore. The women in those films weren’t like me. They were beautiful and adventurous. I wasn’t looking for adventure.
One night, our walk took us in another direction, towards the camp by the river, where the stockmen lived with their families. As the camp came into view, Edward suddenly stopped. He stood in silence for a few minutes.