Читать книгу The Other Wife - Juliet Bell - Страница 16

Jane

Church soon became the best part of my life. On Sundays we would walk up to church. It was a beautiful old building with stone arches and a statue of Jesus at the front door. There was a routine to church, and order of things. At church, nobody would shout or point out what I was doing wrong. At church I could listen to the words of the priest and look at the pictures in the windows and above the altar. Christ on the cross. Mary with her baby. According to the priest she was kind and the most loving of mothers. In the big window she was gathering little children of all nations to her. Sometimes I wished I could step into that picture and be gathered up, safe and loved, far, far away from Mrs Reed.

Each night I knelt beside my bed, and Mrs Reed stood in the doorway and listened to my prayers. I had to thank God that I had a home with her. I had to pray for my cousins, John and Emma. I had to pray for forgiveness for all my wickedness. After Mrs Reed was gone, I always got back on my knees and prayed for my mother. The night before my seventh birthday I prayed extra hard that she would come and find me.

The next morning I got up, wondering if there would be presents on the breakfast table or if I’d have to wait until evening. Mrs Reed hadn’t asked me what I wanted to do, but I imagined a trip to the beach, like I’d done on my other birthdays, when the whole community had joined me and Mum for a picnic.

There were no presents on the breakfast table.

There was no day at the beach.

There were no presents after school, either.

At bedtime, before I knelt down to say my prayers, I took a deep breath in and asked Mrs Reed, ‘Did you know it was my birthday?’

The woman frowned, but didn’t answer my question. ‘I don’t have time for silliness like that, Jane. Go on, say your prayers.’

That night, in my head, I asked God to take me away from the Reeds.

Two weeks later, Mrs Reed came into my room before breakfast and told me to put my best clothes on because we were going to the cinema. ‘It’s Emma’s birthday day out,’ she said.

Emma had grown out of a very pretty yellow dress that was now my smartest outfit. I pulled off my pyjamas and was taking the pretty yellow dress out of my wardrobe when I heard a noise. John was standing in my doorway. He was looking at me in the strangest way. I pulled the dress off the hanger and held it in front of my body. ‘What are you doing in here?’

‘You can’t hide from me, you know.’ He was still smiling as he stepped into the room.

‘Go away!’ I spoke softly. I always spoke softly. Mrs Reed didn’t like shouting.

‘You can’t make me.’ He took another step into my room.

‘Go away.’ I backed away from him, but there was nowhere I could go.

‘This is my house and I’ll do whatever I want.’ He was eleven years old, and much bigger than me. I made to duck past him to run to the bathroom, but he stepped sideways and blocked my way, grabbing my bare shoulders.

‘Leave me alone.’ I slapped his hands away. Something was very wrong, but I didn’t really know what.

‘What’s going on in here?’ Mrs Reed was in the hallway outside the room. She saw my body. ‘Jane!’

‘She called me to come in here,’ John said, the same half-smile still on his face. ‘And when I did, she took her clothes off.’

Mrs Reed paled. ‘John, leave the room. I’ll deal with this.’

‘That’s not what happened,’ I explained as he walked away. ‘I didn’t…’

‘Not one more word from you.’ Mrs Reed paced up and down the floor two, and then three times, before she turned to face me. ‘You’re not pretty, Jane.’

‘What?’

‘You’re like me. Not like your mother. She always had every boy in the town after her. And she let them, you know.’ She scowled. ‘I thought without her pretty face you might be different. I thought I might be able to teach you how to behave before it was too late, but the apple never falls far from the tree after all.’

‘I didn’t. John’s lying…’

My words were cut off by the crack of her hand across my cheek. ‘Never ever blame my son for your dirtiness. Now get dressed.’

I lifted the pretty yellow frock to pull it over my head, but Mrs Reed snatched it away from me.

‘Not this. You can’t have Emma’s pretty things until you show you deserve them.’ She took an old brown dress from my cupboard. ‘Put this on.’

When I was dressed, she grabbed me by the arm and dragged me through the house. ‘You’ve spoiled this day for all of us,’ she said. ‘Apologise to poor John and to Emma. We can’t go for her birthday treat now. I will not leave you alone in this house and you certainly can’t come with us.’

Emma immediately started to wail and stamp her feet.

‘Why don’t we leave her on the balcony?’ John said slowly. ‘There’s nothing she can steal or break out there.’

I froze. The balcony was a place of horror. There was nothing but that thin railing between me and the ground far below. I’d often sat just inside, desperate for a view of the sky, but I hadn’t set foot on the balcony since that first morning. ‘No. Please. I didn’t do what he said…’

‘I told you not to lie.’ Mrs Reed dragged me towards the glass doors. ‘Well, you will stay out there and think about your sin. John’s right. Why should you be allowed to spoil Emma’s day?’

She thrust me through the door and I fell onto the tiles. On the other side of the glass doors, the family walked out of the apartment and slammed the front door closed behind them.

I crawled back towards the wall and squeezed myself into the corner, where I couldn’t see the edge of the balcony, or the rail or the long fall below it. I sat there for a very long time. At first I tried not to cry. I knew Mum would want me to be brave, but Mum wasn’t here. It was just me. Completely abandoned, completely alone. I stopped fighting and let the tears come.

‘Are you all right?’

The voice seemed to come from out of the sky. It was soft and kind and full of gentleness.

‘Are you Our Lady?’

‘No.’ The voice laughed. ‘I heard you crying. Are you all right?’

The voice floated towards me on the breeze. ‘Then are you an angel?’

The voice laughed again. ‘No. I’m Jennifer. I’m standing on my balcony, downstairs from you. Are you Jane? I’ve heard about you, but we’ve never met.’

I hadn’t heard about her, but then Mrs Reed didn’t like the people in the building and didn’t talk to them very often.

‘Are you all right, Jane? Have you locked yourself out on the balcony?’

‘No. Mrs Reed puts me here. When I do bad things.’

‘Is she there with you?’

‘No. They went out.’

There was a long pause. I pressed my back harder against the wall, screwing my eyes closed and not thinking about the drop below. ‘Are you still there?’

‘I’m here. Would you like me to stay here until Mrs Reed comes home? You can talk to me and tell me all about yourself.’

‘Yes, please.’ I wasn’t quite so scared any more.