The Other Wife. Juliet Bell

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The Other Wife - Juliet Bell

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forgotten I ever existed, and that thought didn’t bother me at all. Our Lady was home now. The only person in the world I cared about was here.

      ‘They’ll all be leaving soon.’

      I could hear the happiness in Helen’s voice.

      Below our dormitory, the front doors of the senior-school boarding house opened and girls poured out, bubbling with excitement at the thought of going home. We watched them as they fought for the best seats on the coaches. Helen and I were anxious for them to leave too. For the next six weeks we would be the only students at the school. It was our own private heaven.

      ‘Come on, I want to show you something.’ Helen moved away from the window.

      ‘What?’

      ‘It’s a surprise.’

      Together we started down the big wooden staircase that led to the main entrance of the boarding house. As always, Helen didn’t hurry. She never hurried. When I was smaller, that had bothered me and I’d wanted to grab her hand and drag her along at my speed. But now I was used to it. I was content to walk beside her.

      ‘Oh look, it’s the orphans.’

      ‘There’ll be no Christmas for you.’ Miranda and her friends were standing near the front door. ‘It’ll just be you and the nuns. And all those prayers.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘No Christmas dinner and no presents for you.’

      ‘She might get some more of last year’s hand me down clothes.’

      ‘Maybe this year she’ll get a training bra.’I fought down the urge to tug at my slightly too small dress. I was still wearing hand-me-downs from the Reeds, although occasionally, at the nuns’ urgings, Mrs Reed sent some money to buy me things I needed. A bra was not one of those things. At fourteen, I was still flat chested. The girls sniggered, flexing their shoulders to show off their developing busts.

      The anger I’d got so used to carrying with me since I’d arrived at school flared up. I didn’t care about Christmas dinner or growing breasts, but I wanted to shake them and shout at them until they saw that not having those things didn’t matter one bit. Helen and I were perfectly happy without them.

      Helen’s fingers closed around my hand and I pushed the anger aside.

      ‘Girls – don’t dawdle. The bus won’t wait for you.’ We all turned to see one of the nuns coming down the stairs, followed by a woman we had never seen before. ‘And Miranda, perhaps during Christmas you could think about our Lord and his teachings about being kind to others.’

      ‘Yes, Sister.’ The girls left quickly.

      The sister smiled at Helen and I. ‘So girls, you will both be with us for the summer again?’

      ‘Yes, Sister.’

      ‘Well then, I would like to introduce you to our newest member of staff who has just joined us. This is Miss Temple.’

      Miss Temple smiled. Her hair was dark red and her eyes were golden brown. She had painted fingernails. They were a soft, shiny pink and when she moved her hands, as she did when she talked, the pink caught the light. She wore a blue dress with a white collar, not unlike our school uniform, but on her it looked elegant. ‘You’re not a nun.’ The words were out before I could stop them.

      ‘No.’ Miss Temple’s smile spread wider.

      ‘Miss Temple is the first of our lay staff,’ the Sister explained. ‘We will be taking on a few lay teachers and house mistresses in the future. Miss Temple will be joining us as an English teacher when school resumes in February.’

      ‘And I will be house mistress here in the junior school,’ added Miss Temple.

      Helen nodded. ‘Can we go now, please, Sister?’

      ‘Of course.’

      We left. We slipped around the back of the boarding house towards the gymnasium.

      ‘Don’t you think Miss Temple is pretty?’ I was still a little dazzled by her.

      ‘I suppose so.’ Helen frowned a little bit. ‘Come on..’

      ‘Where are we going?’

      I followed her along the edge of the sports field to the furthest corner of the grounds. This area wasn’t used for anything and it was overgrown with bushes. Helen pushed her way past the bushes and I followed her into a small open area.

      ‘Oh.’

      There were flowers growing all around me. Yellow and red flowers that were in full bloom because summer was just starting. I could smell them too. There was something familiar about that smell.

      ‘It must have been a garden once,’ Helen said. ‘When I found this place, there were weeds everywhere. I pulled them out and the flowers grew.’

      ‘When did you find it?’

      ‘A couple of months ago. I wanted to surprise you. Miranda is wrong, Jane. This is your present.’

      ‘My present?’

      ‘Your Christmas present, silly. We can spend all our holiday here and no-one will disturb us. We can grow even more flowers together.’

      ‘It’s beautiful.’ I flung my arms around Helen and hugged her. As I did, I remembered where I had smelled the flowers before. My mother. I could barely remember her face, but I did remember the flowers she’d grown. The garden smelled like home and freedom, and memories, and Helen had made it for me.

      I hugged my best friend even tighter as I said words I hadn’t said since the day I was taken away from my home.

      ‘I love you, Helen.’

       Chapter 16

       Betty

      Betty leant on the veranda railing. It was a hot January day. Most people would be inside in the shade, but, even after all this time, Betty still loved the way the heat of the sun warmed her as it touched her skin. And she even secretly loved the way it turned her skin darker – it reminded her that she wasn’t Eliza Mason at all, no matter what everyone else might think.

      The girls from school would go to the beach on the weekends and come in on Monday all red and sore, and complaining that they could never get a tan. Betty wasn’t like them. That meant they hated her. Betty had decided not to care. She’d decided that she hated them too.

      A car pulled up to the garage. Richard’s new car, a present from his father for his birthday. She’d heard Richard boasting to his mates about the big red muscle car. It was a 1971 Falcon GTHO with racing stripes. He thought it made him powerful. It didn’t. It was the car that was powerful. Richard was nothing.

      She slipped back inside before Richard got out of the car. She tried to avoid Richard as much as she could. He had ignored her for years, but just lately he’d noticed her again and she didn’t like

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