by Juliet Bell
‘No. No. I brought it up here. I know I did.’ At least, I thought I had. Perhaps I had left it in the ballroom. I remembered seeing the tulle discarded across the floor. I’d thought that was from the banner, but maybe … No. No. I’d hung the veil up with my dress. I remembered doing it quite clearly. ‘It was in my room.’
I felt my voice rising, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. I didn’t think I could stand to see anything else go wrong.
‘We have to find it, Grace.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Adele’s voice shook just a little.
I looked down as her beautiful little face started to crumple. Adele had been looking forward to this wedding even more than I. I loved her dearly. It would be a joy to be her mother. I wasn’t going to let anything else spoil this day for either of us.
‘It’s nothing, sweetheart. I think I left my veil downstairs. It doesn’t matter. Are you ready? It’s almost time for the wedding.’
I was relieved to see the smile return to her face.
With one final inspection of my appearance, I took Adele’s hand and we made our way towards the main staircase. Grace followed us. The sound of voices rose up to meet us. The stockmen and their families must have already gathered outside the ballroom, to watch the ceremony through the big open glass doors. For the first time I dared to feel excited. This really was happening. I was going to be Mrs Edward Rochester. I’d be a mother to Adele. I was going to have a normal life after all.
For one breath of time, Helen’s beloved face appeared in my mind. She looked sad. I pushed the image away. I pushed her away. This was how things were meant to be. I would marry Edward and we would be happy together.
We turned the corner towards the ballroom. Instead of being at the front of the room with the celebrant, Edward was standing in the doorway, towering over a smaller but obviously very angry man. Richard Mason.
‘You know you can’t do this.’ Mason’s finger jabbed into Edward’s chest.
‘It’s none of your business. How dare you come here uninvited?’
Richard gasped. ‘And we both know why I wasn’t invited.’
Between the two of them, a short, red-faced man was frowning anxiously and peering at the papers in his hand. I moved towards them.
‘Edward?’ I hated that my voice was so timid.
‘Jane, this is nothing. Richard was just leaving.’
‘I will not leave until I see my sister.’
I had no idea who he was talking about.
‘This is outrageous.’ Edward grabbed my arm and turned to the chubby man. ‘Come on. You came here to perform a wedding, didn’t you? Get on with it.’
The man looked from Edward to Richard Mason and back again. ‘Mr Rochester. I’m sorry, but Mr Mason has made a very serious allegation.’
Edward’s fingers were digging into my wrist. ‘What allegations?’ I finally found my voice.
My fiancé stared at me for a second, before turning back to Richard. ‘Are you happy now?’
‘This wasn’t my…’
‘You’ve ruined everything.’ Edward spat the words at his apparent enemy.
‘Edward… I don’t understand…’
The celebrant cleared his throat. ‘Miss Eyre?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m afraid this gentleman.’ He nodded towards Richard Mason. ‘This gentleman is claiming that Mr Rochester is already legally married.’
Chapter 49
I looked past them all, through the open door, into the ballroom. The worst of the damage had been cleaned away. The chairs had been righted and the debris swept away. There were no roses left but the candles had been lit to cast a faint golden glow. It wasn’t how I had dreamt it would be, but it was still beautiful if you tried hard enough to see it that way. Not that it mattered now.
I slowly turned my eyes to the marriage celebrant. Had he really said that Edward was already married? That couldn’t be right. If he was married he wouldn’t have proposed to me. This was our wedding day. I shook my head. ‘That’s ridiculous.’
The sympathy I saw in his eyes sent a cold shiver down my spine. I turned towards the man I was supposed to marry. ‘Edward. Tell him.’
Edward said nothing.
Richard finally spoke again, quieter now. ‘I demand to see my sister.’
‘What?’ I turned on him, my voice rising.
‘My sister, Eliza Mason, is Edward Rochester’s wife.’
This was crazy. ‘Whoever your sister is, she’s not here.’ I’d lived at Thornfield for all this time. I knew it now. The only visitors we had were here to work, or buy or sell stock. Richard himself had come, and Celine, but whatever her relationship with Edward might have been, she wasn’t related to Richard, was she? And she wasn’t here now. I talked slowly, as if explaining something to a child. ‘There’s only us here. Me. Edward. Adele. Grace and Max. Nobody else is here.’
Richard shook his head. ‘I see why he chose you. You’re an idiot.’
‘Don’t speak to my…’ Edward’s voice tailed away. What had he been going to say? My fiancée? My wife? He turned back to the celebrant. ‘I demand you start this ceremony.’ Although the words were fierce, for the first time I heard defeat in his voice.
The celebrant folded his papers pointedly. ‘Not until this situation is resolved. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Miss Eyre.’
Edward’s shoulders slumped. The determination he’d kept up, despite the damage to the ballroom and throughout the argument with Richard, abandoned him. That shook me to my core. Surely none of this was true.
‘What do you want to do?’ the celebrant asked.
Richard folded his arms. ‘I’m not going anywhere or doing anything until I’ve seen my sister.’
‘What’s happening?’ The tiny, frightened voice at my side would have broken my heart, had it not already shattered.
‘Adele, my darling.’ I dropped to my knees beside her. ‘I’m sorry. There’s been a bit of a misunderstanding.’
‘It’s Lizzybeth, isn’t it?’
‘Out of the mouth of babes.’ Mason’s voice was triumphant.
I struggled to keep my voice calm. ‘Adele, I need you to go to your room for a little while. Look, here’s Grace. She can go up and read with you.’
‘But I am going to be your flower girl.’
‘Adele, my darling, I won’t do anything without you.’
Her face creased with anxiety, Grace led Adele away, up the stairs and towards her room.
I rose slowly to my feet and confronted the man who was, by this time, supposed to be standing beside me taking our wedding vows.
‘Oh, Jane. I did not want you to know this, but, if you must know, then I’ll show you. Come on. I’ll show you what this bastard foisted onto me.’
I cried out with shock and pain as Edward grabbed my wrist again and began to march through the house. Mason and the celebrant hurried along behind as he dragged me up the steps and turned towards the wing where Grace lived. Towards the door that was always locked.
I froze as Edward pulled a key from his pocket. Moments from my time here at Thornfield began to flash in front of me. The noises I thought I’d heard in here. The movement I thought I’d seen at the window. And that woman…the one Adele and I had met. The one Adele knew so well. Mason was right. I was an idiot. I stumbled backwards, letting Richard move in front of me, terrified of what was about to be revealed.
‘Come on then. All of you. Come and see.’ Edward flung the door open and stepped back.
The hallway beyond was in shadows, bare of furniture or adornment. But at the centre of it, crouched low like an animal, was a woman. A woman I recognised. A woman I’d seen before. A woman Adele had told me from the start was ‘Daddy’s friend.’ A woman I’d chosen not to think about.
Betty rushed out at them as soon as the door was open. She knew there’d be trouble because of what she’d done last night. Every instinct told her to hide and cower, but she didn’t. This was her chance. All she
needed was other people. Not Edward or Richard. Not Grace. Maybe that Jane would be with them. Or someone else. Someone who would see her and know that she was real.
Something inside had gone up in flames with the veil in the bath. She’d sat and watched until it vanished away to nothing, and she’d wished she could do the same. And then she’d realised that she was doing the same, inside these few rooms. She was disappearing into nothing. After Grace left, which she would one day, and after Adele grew up and went away, who would remember her? Who would even know that Mrs Elizabeth Rochester had ever existed? Eliza Mason was already nothing more than a name on the wind. Even inside her own head she couldn’t be sure that Betty Earl had ever existed at all. She wouldn’t let that happen again.
As soon as the door opened she sprang up, legs pumping, arms flailing, mouth open wide, lungs pushing her scream into the world. She was here and they would see her.
Edward and Richard were at the front. She forced her way past Richard, hearing him whimper as she pushed him into the wall. Edward was a bigger man, but he wasn’t expecting her like this. He stumbled backwards. Behind him she could see Jane in her long white dress and then a stranger recoiling in horror. If she could get to Jane, she could make this right. If she could get to Jane with her sensible, open face, she could explain.
But Jane was staggering away, pulling the flowers out of her hair, tugging at the row of tiny buttons on her dress.
Edward’s hands grabbed Betty, pushing her back towards that door.
‘You see! You see what I’ve had to cope with,’ Edward yelled. ‘Don’t go, Jane. Don’t go. I need you.’
Betty shook her head. That wasn’t right. That wasn’t fair.
‘She’s mad. She tried to burn the house down.’ Edward was frantic.
No. Betty opened her mouth. She had to make them see that it wasn’t like that. She hadn’t meant to start any fires. Well, she’d meant to burn the veil, but his bedroom had been an accident.
‘Please, Jane…’ His voice was wheedling now. Even as he wrestled his wife back into her prison he was trying to charm his would-be bride.
Betty’s rage rose again, overcoming her confusion. ‘Go, Jane! Run away. Run as far as you can from this place. From him. He’ll do this to you too.’
‘Shut up!’ Her husband spat the words into her face.
In the corridor Betty saw the bride slow and turn back towards them, and for a second their eyes met. One final desperate cry reached Betty’s lips. ‘Take me with you. Don’t leave me here…’
And then the door slammed closed in her face.
I was already tearing at my wedding gown as I fled back to my room. Every touch of the satin on my skin was agony. I heard Edward shouting, but I didn’t know what he was saying and I didn’t care. All I cared about was getting away from him, from his lies, from the woman he’d hidden away for so long. From the pain and desperation in her eyes.
I slammed the door of the room behind me, but got no feeling of safety from the action. I dropped the gown into my bedroom floor and flung open the wardrobe, reaching for whatever clothes were to hand.
Wildly I looked around. I had no time to pack. I had to get to the plane before the pilot left. He was due to take the celebrant, and perhaps Mason, back to town before darkness fell. But after the events of the past few minutes, they were probably already on their way. That plane could not leave without me. This place that had been my sanctuary had turned into something else, something terrifying.
I slid open a drawer and reached for the small brown envelope that lay almost hidden beneath my underwear. I opened it to reveal my treasured photograph of Helen. At that moment, tears threatened to overwhelm me.
Edward’s betrayal was devastating. But worse was the knowledge that I had betrayed myself, forgetting what Helen had taught me about love. Love was kind. Love was courageous. Whatever Edward had been offering here, it wasn’t love. It was something much smaller, much weaker, than love.
I slid that photograph into a shoulder bag, and added my wallet, with my precious driving licence, and the few other personal things from that drawer. There was nothing else worth taking. As I opened the door, I hesitated.
Adele. I looked down the hallway to her closed door. Grace would be with her, I was sure. I took a half step in her direction. I loved that little girl. I truly did. I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.
Before I took another step, I stopped. How could I say goodbye? What could I tell her? That her father was a monster. That her friend Lizzybeth was a madwoman, locked away in this very house. That I was leaving her here, where nothing was as it seemed, because I simply couldn’t stay.
I turned back towards the main staircase. I would leave without a word. Adele wouldn’t understand. She’d be hurt and she’d cry. She might even hate me. It was no less than I deserved. I almost ran down the stairs.
Edward was waiting for me. His face was impossible to read. I should have been married to him by now. I knew a charming, intelligent man, not this stranger.
Who was this, the man that I had thought I loved?
‘Jane, let me explain.’ He reached out and grabbed my arm. ‘You saw what she is like. She’s mad. All of this was for her own good.’
The desperation in his voice shocked me into answering. ‘You were marrying me for her good?’
‘No.’ His tone changed. He was charming again, definite. ‘I was marrying you because you are the wife I should have had all along. You know that. You can’t leave me. I need you. You make my life bearable again.’
Not a single word of love. I looked at the hand that grasped my arm. I looked at the face that I had so recently believed could make me whole.
‘Let go of me.’
‘Please. I’m begging you, Jane.’
I shook my head. ‘Goodbye, Mr Rochester.’
I wrenched myself from his grasp and walked down the stairs and out the front door without looking back. Somewhere in the distance, I could hear Adele crying my name, but not even my affection for her could make me turn back. I had to escape while there was something of me left.
Outside, I could see the Aboriginal workers walking away from the house, whispering among themselves. I could no more face them than I could face Adele. I hurried towards the machinery shed. The car Rochester kept for his own infrequent use was there, the keys in the ignition. I jumped behind the wheel and started the engine. By the time the airstrip came into sight, I could see the ute parked beside the plane, and people moving around. I gunned the engine and sped towards them, the wheels spinning on the thick dust as I turned through the gate and slid to a stop beside the aircraft.
‘What’s going on?’
The pilot held up a hand as if to stop me climbing aboard the plane.
‘I’m leaving with you.’
The man hesitated. His instructions obviously hadn’t included this.
‘It’s all right,’ Mason said. ‘If I was her I’d run away from this place as well.’
I left Thornfield without a backwards glance. I had no idea where the plane was headed, or what I would do when I got there, but I knew that I was finished with Edward Rochester. My last thoughts as the plane lifted into the clear blue sky weren’t for him. They were for the people I’d left behind – for Grace, for Adele and for the real Mrs Rochester.
PART THREE
Chapter 50
Jane
As I stepped down to the platform at Sydney’s Central Station, I was jostled by the crowds hurrying to get on or off the trains. I was barely aware of the surroundings. I hadn’t eaten since I had leapt out of bed, eager to be married. Now here I was, hundreds of miles away, alone, unmarried, and struggling to understand how someone could have lied to me every day since we’d met. The man who’d asked me to be his wife was already married. Edward Rochester was not the man I had thought he was. And I was not the person I had hoped to become.
A hurrying figure crashed into me, almost knocking me off my feet.
‘S
orry.’ The man was gone before I had even registered the word.
I followed the crowd streaming towards the exit, and stepped out through the red-brick arches and suddenly stopped. I had nowhere to go. I could not, would not, return to the Reeds. I didn’t even know if they still lived in the apartment I hadn’t seen for almost twenty years. But I had to go somewhere.
I sought respite in a wooden bench under the arches, and pulled my few possessions from my bag. There was very little cash in my wallet – I’d never needed to carry cash at Thornfield. I’d never owned a bank card. I had some money in the bank, but my heart sank with the realisation that I’d left my bank book behind. My stomach churned with a combination of hunger and despair. I had no friends and not enough money for a hotel or even a hostel. Was I going to have to sleep on the street? I sat there for a very long time, watching the people marching past. Everyone had somewhere to be and, I thought, someone who was waiting for them when they got there. The exhaustion and shock of the day caught up with me. I needed to move. I needed to find help and a place to stay, but as the sun sank and darkness settled over the city, I had not one ounce of energy left.
A burst of loud laughter finally drew me from my despair. I looked up. People were still moving in and out of the station, but far fewer of them now. The raucous laughter was emanating from a nearby group of young men. They were looking my way, pointing and shouting. One of them thrust his groin forward in an exaggerated mime. I was suddenly a small child again, back in that school sports shed with John Reed and his friends.
I got to my feet, and, clutching my few possessions tightly, I walked back inside the station. There would be more people there. I would be safer with people around me. I sat down again, but this time it was a railway guard who marched over.
‘You can’t sleep here.’
‘No. No, I wasn’t…’
‘Go on. Get out of here.’
I retraced my steps. The young men had gone, but the unfamiliar city was no less frightening. Sydney had changed in the years I’d been away. High-rise buildings towered over the city centre. The roads were busy, and even this late at night, the streets seemed full of people. I started to shake as the world around me spun.