The Other Wife: A sweeping historical romantic drama tinged with obsession and suspense. Juliet Bell

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The Other Wife: A sweeping historical romantic drama tinged with obsession and suspense - Juliet  Bell

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1

       Sydney, Australia. 1966

       Jane

      I was scared. This was my first time in Sydney. My first time in any big city. It was also my first time away from the place where my mother and I had lived since I was a baby. Even looking out of the window of the car was overwhelming – the size of the buildings, the number of cars, the rush and hurry all around me. I sank back into my seat until the car finally stopped and I couldn’t hide any longer.

      ‘Come on now, child.’ The woman sitting next to me poked me none too gently in the ribs. ‘Get out of the car.’

      My new home was a huge mountain of red brick. I strained my neck, trying to see how very high it really went. It seemed to reach up almost to the clouds. I desperately wanted to go home. To my friends. To my mother. To the way things were before the police came.

      I stared up at the building again. It was truly huge. I would get lost inside it, just as I was lost in this city. The buildings that towered over me seemed to lean in on each other, and there was nothing green. No trees, not even a blade of grass. I hoped I wouldn’t have to stay here long. Mum must be coming back soon to take me home to the place with the space and the grass and all the people I knew.

      The woman took my two small bags from the back of the car. I didn’t own many things. At home everything was shared, so I didn’t need my own things. The woman in the car had told me there were other children in this house. My cousins. Maybe I would share with them now.

      When we got to the big front door, I pushed it. It didn’t open. I tried to pull it, but that didn’t work either. The door stayed shut. Puzzled, I looked up at the woman. She rolled her eyes as she reached out to press a button in the wall.

      ‘Yes?’ The voice was loud and harsh.

      ‘Child Welfare.’

      For a long time there was no answer. ‘All right.’

      I jumped as a loud buzz and a thunk sounded from the door in front of me.

      ‘Well, don’t just stand there. Open the door.’

      ‘But…’

      ‘Open it.’

      I pushed the door hard, and this time it moved.

      It was dark inside after the bright sunlight in the street. There was a big staircase made of wood that seemed to go forever.

      The woman carrying my bags went and stood in front of another door. There were more strange sounds, and that door slid open, revealing a very small room.

      ‘Come on, Jane.’ She was starting to sound impatient.

      I followed her into the box. I didn’t mind small places. That was why I almost always won when we played hide and seek. I was little and could fit into the tiniest places. The door slid shut all on its own. I almost screamed when I felt the little room start to move.

      ‘Oh, for goodness’ sake,’ the woman said. ‘It’s only a lift. Your aunt is on the top storey. Far too many floors to use the stairs, especially in this heat.’

      Mum had told me to be brave, so I tried to pretend I wasn’t frightened as the lift went up and up and up.

      When the lift stopped moving, the doors opened again and I jumped out quickly, in case it fell back down to the ground. There was only one other door that I could see. The woman nodded and I tried to open it.

      She sighed, before rapping forcefully on the door with her knuckles.

      It was opened by a big woman. She had short brown hair and dark eyes. Her dress was grey, with no colours or pattern. Everything about her was so very different to my mum, with her long blonde hair and her pretty clothes and big light skirts that swayed as she walked and ran. The woman peered down at me for a second without smiling. Then she stepped back. ‘You’d better come in.’

      The room was so pretty that, for a minute, I almost forgot to be scared. There were bright swirling patterns on the walls and a deep carpet that made me want to take my shoes off and let my toes curl into the softness. Everything in the room was new and shiny and clean. There were lace curtains around a big window, and I could see the sky. I felt a bit better then. I had been afraid that in this big brick house, I wouldn’t be able to see the sky. There were coloured shiny things on a shelf. I stood on my tiptoes to reach them.

      ‘Jane. Don’t touch that. Come back here!’ The big woman’s voice was loud and screechy. Had I done something wrong?

      She looked me up and down. ‘I am your Aunt … I’m Mrs Reed. You’re going to be staying here with us, Jane.’

      I nodded, but I didn’t say anything.

      Mrs Reed stared at me, apparently expecting something more. She turned to the woman who had brought me here. ‘Is there something wrong with her?’

      ‘I’m sure she’s just nervous,’ the woman said. ‘I’m sure she’s a very bright child, really.’

      ‘We’ll see about that. Jane, take your bags to your room. It’s down that corridor. The last door on the right. You do know right from left, don’t you?’

      I nodded.

      The last door led to a little room, with a bed and some drawers. I put my bags on the bed. It was a pretty room. The bedclothes were pale pink, and felt soft under my fingers.

      ‘That’s my old stuff.’

      I turned around to see two big children standing in the doorway. The girl was a bit older than me and had dark hair and a little button nose. The boy was even older. These must be the cousins I’d been told about.

      ‘Thank you for sharing your things with me.’

      ‘I’m not sharing anything with you,’ the girl said. ‘Mum said you could have my old stuff, but don’t ever touch anything of mine. Ever.’

      ‘Or mine,’ her brother said quietly. ‘We didn’t ask you here. We don’t want you here. We hate you.’

      I wanted to cry. But I didn’t. I wanted Mum to be proud of me for being brave.

      ‘I didn’t want to come here either,’ I said.

      ‘Don’t you talk to me like that!’ His face went pink with anger.

      I took a deep breath. ‘Mum says everybody should share everything. It’s mean if you don’t.’

      He parroted my words back at me in silly sing-song voice. ‘Everybody should share everything.’

      His sister laughed.

      The boy continued. ‘You’re not on that hippy farm anymore. Things are different here. This is a proper family, not your druggie commune. You’ll have to behave yourself now.’

      I didn’t know what he meant, but I was suddenly very, very frightened. ‘But I’m going back there? Soon?’

      ‘Don’t

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