by Juliet Bell
‘Are you all right?’
I turned towards the voice, gathering myself to run if I had to.
‘Oh goodness, you are so pale. Come over here and sit down for a moment.’ The woman took my arm and gently led me back to that same bench where I’d spent most of the day. ‘There you go. Now don’t worry. You’re safe with me. Do you have anywhere to go? Anyone I can call for you?’
I shook my head slowly.
‘You poor child. But it’s all right. We are here to help. Do you want to come with me to the mission house?’
Mission House? In my confused state, I imagined some tropical jungle, with nuns and grass huts. ‘Where?’
‘The mission house. I am part of a mission.’
‘You’re Christians?’
She nodded. ‘We just try to help people.’
It was my own little miracle. I’d turned my back on the church at Thornfield. I knew I had, but maybe the Lord hadn’t turned his back on me. In my hour of need, he’d sent one of his children to reach out for me.
‘It’s not far. Come on. Do you think you can stand up?’
She helped me to my feet. I have only the haziest memory of walking with her through the streets of the inner city. Each time I stumbled, she caught me. She talked to me as we walked, but I let the words wash over me, too tired and caught up in my own world of despair to respond.
‘Here we are.’
There was a sign on the door in front of us. I fought to bring the world into focus.
The Saint John Mission.
Inside, all was light and warmth and the sounds of many people. I hesitated, but my rescuer had her hand on my arm.
‘It’s all right, my dear, everything can wait until tomorrow. You can meet the sisters and Brother Jacob then. For now, you need to rest. Come on.’
She led me to a small room with a narrow bed, a bedside table and a single small wardrobe.
‘You’re safe here. The bathroom is at the end of the corridor. We have finished food service for the night, but if you get hungry…’
I shook my head. All I wanted now was to close my eyes and let sleep block out the nightmare that my life had become.
She left me sitting on the edge of the bed. Around me I could hear the sounds of other people – footsteps, voices, doors closing. There was no threat in the sounds, nobody coming to knock on my door in the dead of night. Slowly I lay back, letting those sounds wash over me. There was something familiar about them.
That night I dreamt of a place by the sea, with children and people who smiled all the time. There were birds, and trees to climb, and a woman, whose face I could not see, who said she loved me.
Chapter 51
Betty
Everything was so very quiet now Jane had gone. Betty didn’t hear Adele chattering away on the veranda anymore. It had always been quiet up here, in her own little world, but now a lull seemed to have settled over the whole house. Grace didn’t stay and talk anymore either. She put Betty’s tray down and then went back to her own space in the kitchen downstairs.
But that was all right. It gave Betty time to think. Time to plan. It was all down to her. That was what she’d realised. Nobody was going to come for her. Edward wasn’t going to take her back into his bed. She wasn’t going to be Elizabeth Rochester anymore. She wasn’t going to be any of those people they’d told her to be. Eliza Mason had died with her mother. Daddy’s little firefly was just a memory. Lizzybeth was a childish mistake. None of them were real. It was time to find out what sort of woman Betty Earl had grown up to be.
Chapter 52
Jane
‘We thank you, mighty Lord, for your Son, our Saviour, who came to lead us from the paths of evil into the light of your love. We ask you to look favourably upon the work we do in your name, and forgive us when we fall short of the great work you have laid out before us. We give thanks for the food you have given us this day. May it give us the strength to do your work and lead the sinners from the paths of sin into the magnificence of your light. Amen.’
‘Amen.’
I dropped my eyes back to the table for the moment of reflective silence we shared before we began eating. It was strange to be praying again. The ritual of bowing my head and listening to the words being offered to God was comforting, like stepping back into a place I’d forgotten was my home. Our prayers were led by Brother Jacob. He was the leader of the mission. With his smooth dark hair cut short, piercing eyes and dark suits, he reminded me of Cary Grant in North by Northwest. And when he spoke, it was hypnotic. His passion for his vocation went right into my wounded soul.
Each morning, we ate breakfast in the big dining room. There were seven women at the mission. I was the eighth. After breakfast, the women would go into the streets to take Brother Jacob’s message to the lost people on the streets of Kings Cross. To the women who walked the streets at night and sold their bodies. To the drunks and the addicts. And to the men who sought the company of other men.
I had yet to join these outings. I stayed at the St John Mission House, cleaning and cooking, taking some respite and comfort from the simple tasks. Living here brought back faded memories of my life before the Reeds, of a place where I had been part of a community, a place where I had been happy.
Sometimes I woke in the middle of the night, my heart pounding with fear, images of Rochester and fires burning my eyes, the sound of Adele’s sweet voice and a madwoman’s cries ringing in my ears. After these nights, more than anything, I wanted to hear Brother Jacob. His prayerful words formed a rock in the troubled ocean of my mind.
‘Jane.’
I was standing in the kitchen, my hands deep in soapy water as I washed the breakfast dishes.
‘Brother Jacob.’
‘Leave those for now, Jane. Please come with me.’
I carefully wiped my hands on a tea towel, noticing as I did that they were shaking a little. I followed Brother Jacob into his office.
‘Shut the door, please, Jane, and take a seat.’
I did as he asked, trying not to show my nervousness. It was the first time I had been into this inner sanctuary. It was a reflection of the man himself. Bookshelves lined the walls, their contents mostly leather-bound books with the titles embossed in gold. These were serious, thoughtful books for a serious and thoughtful man. The top of the big, dark, wooden desk was bare, except for two bibles. One was the large black leather edition Jacob used in our group meetings and prayer sessions. The other was a smaller, poorer thing; well-worn with the gold edging wearing away. This was a bible that had seen much service.
Brother Jacob stood for a moment, his eyes fixed on some distant place, his mind also caught up in his private thoughts. I was glad of those few moments. This was the first time I had ever been alone with him, and I was too afraid to ask what he wanted of me.
‘Jane, have you settled here with us?’ He kept his back to me.
‘Yes, thank you, Brother. I am so grateful that Sister Alice brought me here. I don’t know what I would have done without you. I wish I could repay you.’ I knew I never could. I’d been given so much by people who’d had no reason to bring me into their world, other than the love of God and their fellow man.
He turned then, his lips twitching in a small smile. ‘Well, Jane, there is a way. Are you ready to join the Mission? To devote yourself to our cause. To saving the poor sinners of this city.’
I was ready. To be part of this community, fully and completely, was precisely what I wanted. The Lord had brought me here. After Helen and Edward, it seemed clear that my faith was the only real constant in my life. It had seen me through school, and life with the Reeds. It would see me through this. God’s love was the only love that was true and lasting.
‘Yes, Brother Jacob. I want to join you.’
That’s when he turned to look at me, his eyes searching my face. He came to me and held out his hands. I placed my hands in his as he pulled me gently to my feet.
‘I knew it, Jane, right from that
first day I knew that you and I were of the same heart and mind and soul.’ He spoke seriously, as he always did, never joking or trying to charm. ‘You are a good woman, Jane Eyre, not to be swayed by sin or by the pleasures of the flesh. You are the partner of my soul, Jane. You will stand beside me as I lead this mission against the evil growing in this city.’
‘What do you mean?’
He kept my hands in his. ‘I’ve prayed for a long time about this, and I know it is the will of the Lord.’
He placed his hand under my chin and raised my face towards him. Then he pressed his lips against my brow. ‘You are an angel sent by the Lord. Together, Jane, we will be a guiding light in the darkness.’
He turned to his desk, lifted the tattered bible and pressed it into my hands.
‘This is for you. A gift from my heart to yours. Keep it with you, Jane. Read it. Use the lessons of this book to help those who are lost. And remember always that just as God loves you, so do I.’
I stumbled out of the room. Everything felt so straightforward here. We were doing what the Lord wanted us to do. No other considerations mattered. It didn’t matter who I’d loved before. It didn’t matter that I’d spent so many years being confused. Here, there was certainty. The Lord had brought Brother Jacob and I together. If this was His will, I would give myself to it entirely.
Chapter 53
Betty
Betty waited until Grace put the tray down. She’d been working up to this for weeks now. She had been quiet and well behaved. She hadn’t even lit her matches to stare into the tiny flame. She had pretended to accept her fate, as Grace began to relax again. Now, it was time.
‘I don’t feel very well.’
Grace frowned. ‘How so?’
‘Dizzy. A bit nauseous.’
‘Did you throw up?’
Betty shook her head.
‘I wondered if you might take me outside for a few minutes.’
Grace folded her arms across her body. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Just for a minute.’
‘Mr Rochester doesn’t like …’
Betty dropped her head and looked up at Grace through her lashes. She was wheedling. ‘Mr Rochester wouldn’t know. I haven’t had any fresh air for weeks.’
Grace gave a curt nod. Betty smiled, enough to look grateful, but not enough to look triumphant.
She let Grace lead the way down the stairs and into the kitchen.
‘Can I get a glass of water?’
Grace nodded. ‘Be quick.’
Betty picked a glass up from the drainer and held it under the tap. It was a big old-fashioned sink. Grace was standing in the doorway, looking out towards the stables. Betty acted quickly. This was the riskiest part. Even now she wasn’t sure she’d be able to pull it off. She took a rag out of her pocket and dropped it into the sink. Then she put her glass down on the counter as quietly as she could, pulled her matches from her pocket, and struck a light. She dropped it in the sink, grabbed the glass and followed Grace outside.
They sat on the small bench outside the kitchen door. Grace was jumpy. ‘Just a few minutes.’
Betty leant back on the bench, raised her face to the sky, and closed her eyes. The warmth on her skin was exactly as she remembered. She waited.
Only when she was sure she could smell it, that her hopes weren’t playing tricks on her, did she say anything. ‘Can you smell something burning?’
Grace shook her head. ‘No… Oh my goodness!’ She jumped up and ran back into the house.
This was her moment. Betty was on her feet. She’d thought this part through as far as she could. She needed to get around the far side of the house so she’d be hidden from immediate view when Grace came back. Then she needed to get to somewhere that somebody would find her. But it had to be the right somebody. Jimmy or Peggy would be all right. She was sure they’d take care of her, but heading for the camp was too risky. Max could be down there or any of the other workers could see her first.
So her plan was this. She would walk away to the highway and find other people. People who would take her away from this place. She tried to remember the early days at Thornfield, when she’d had a little freedom to move around. It was all hazy now, but she knew there was a road. There had to be a road, because sometimes people came and went in cars. If she could find the road she could escape. She couldn’t walk down the road, of course. They’d find her too easily. But she could walk in the bush nearby, hidden from view. And then, when she got to the highway, she could flag down a car and get into town.
Then she would be free.
The first thing she had to do was get away from the house unseen. She set off at a run, knowing she needed to put some distance between herself and the homestead before Grace raised the alarm. She crossed her fingers that Grace would be so worried about getting in trouble for letting Betty out that she wouldn’t call for help straight away. With luck, she’d try to find Betty on her own first.
She only managed to run for a few short minutes. Out here she should be wearing boots or sandshoes, not the flimsy thongs that were the only footwear she had. And it was hot. Not the welcome warmth on her skin that she’d been dreaming of. Truly hot. And she wasn’t carrying any water. She’d had nothing to put water in. But she couldn’t go back. She had a plan. She avoided the line of red gravel with the tyre marks clearly visible. Instead, she ducked into the low scrub nearby. Fixing in her mind the direction the road was running, she started to walk in the same direction. She just had to get to the highway.
Betty kept walking. The heat radiated back up at her from the red earth.
She hadn’t heard any shouts behind her. There were no sounds of running feet. Maybe he wouldn’t send anyone after her. She almost laughed out loud at the thought. Of course he would. Everything out here belonged to him. He wouldn’t tolerate his property wandering off.
She stopped. She didn’t have a watch so she didn’t know how long she’d been going. It must, she thought, be an hour since she’d left the homestead. Her feet hurt. And her bare arms were covered with scratches where she had pushed her way through the scrub. She turned slowly around. There was no sign of the road. That was good. It meant anyone on the road wouldn’t see her. But she should check she was still going in the right direction. The road should be over there, to the left. She veered to her left, pushing her way through the scratchy bushes and kept walking. It was strange. She should have found the track by now. She turned around. She had long since lost sight of the house, and the yards. They should be behind her. Or maybe over to the right? It didn’t matter now. She would just keep walking. The highway couldn’t be that far away. And then she could wave down a passing car and get a ride into town.
She scanned the horizon for some feature she might recognise, but there was nothing. Just the dry red landscape as far as she could see. But that was all right. She had a plan and she would stick to it. She turned back in the direction she’d been heading. At least, she thought it was the direction she had been heading.
Chapter 54
Jane
The women of the mission didn’t have an official uniform. Not like the habits the nuns at Our Lady had worn. But we did all wear plain dark skirts that fell to our knees, and white cotton button-up blouses. We never put any adornments on ourselves or our clothes. Brother Jacob believed such adornments were the devil’s work. But next morning, I did put a little extra attention into brushing my hair, which I now wore cut short like the other women. I made sure my skirt was well ironed, and my blouse tucked in straight. Today I was going out on the streets with my sisters for the first time. I wanted to do well. I wanted Jacob to be pleased with me.
‘Jane, are you ready to do God’s work?’ Alice was waiting for me when I left my small, bare room.
‘Yes. I am so excited. And proud.’
‘Susan will be coming with us.’
We always travelled in threes. Jacob believed that allowing two people to be alone was an invitation to evil. A tempta
tion to develop feelings and urges that belonged between a man and his wife in the state of marriage. Was he right, I wondered. Was that all that had happened with Helen? It still felt like a betrayal to think that, but maybe if we’d had more friends, if we hadn’t been forced together, just the two of us, for so much of the time, maybe we wouldn’t have fallen into sin the way that we had.
Alice, Susan and I left the mission house, heading up the hill towards Oxford Street.
‘You’ve been spending a lot of time with Brother Jacob?’ Susan’s voice was excited.
‘Don’t gossip,’ cautioned Alice.
‘Sorry.’ Susan suppressed her curiosity for a moment. ‘You’re going to marry him, though, aren’t you?’
‘Susan! Brother Jacob would not like you talking like this.’
I shook my head. ‘Me? Marry Brother Jacob?’
Even Alice was joining in now. ‘He has always taught us that a man needs a good wife by his side to help him in his work and to protect him from temptation. To be the mother of his children. I prayed it might be you.’
Pride is a sin, but I felt proud at that moment. It felt so good to hear Alice say that she thought I was worthy of him. It felt good to think that I could live the rest of my life right at the heart of this community, protected from sin. Perhaps this was it. My real chance to live the normal life that I had always longed for.
I could be the wife of Brother Jacob. I could work with him in his mission to lead the sinners back to the light. And, in doing so, I too could be redeemed for my sins.
‘Look.’
Susan’s voice dragged me back to reality. We were standing at the entrance to a side street. A small flatbed truck was parked in the street, and a handful of people were moving around it. On the footpath, a boom-box was blaring out a pop song, which had set everyone around it dancing.
‘That song.’ Alice’s voice was a horrified whisper. ‘They must be here for Mardi Gras.’