Seven Years Ago Brett peers over her shoulder. âLord, but what's the girl reading now?â
Jenny sits in a chair by the fire, a coffee cup on the hearth one side of her, and next to it, an oddly coloured pebble, lined with rust and deep green stripes.
âIt's a book about geology. Mr Kalkowski lent it to me.â
She yells a protest as Brett snatches the book from her. âLet's have a look at it then.â Mockery in his voice, âWhat have we here?â
He flicks through pages, then reads one of them, tracing the page with a forefinger, his lips moving silently.
âWhat's all this?â Brett frowns, then reads aloud, stumbling over some of the words. âShales are typically composed of variable amounts of clay minerals and quartz grains and the typical colour is grayâ¦.â He looks at Jenny oddly. ââ¦. Red, brown and green colours are indicative of fer-rick oxide, iron hi-drox-ide, or my-cay-shus mineralsâ¦. What are you reading this rubbish for?â He continues to scan the pages, then turns the book on its side to look at a diagram.
His eyebrows draw together as he tries to make sense of what he is looking at, then, âHold on, itâs saying hereâ¦. sen-oh-zo-ik era, sixty million years agoâ¦. pal-ee-oh-zo-ikâ¦. five hundred million yearsâ¦.â Brett gives her an angry look. âIs this the sort of thing that old man is giving you?â he demands. âA young girl reading this kind of thing?â
Jennyâs mouth drops open at his reaction. âWhat's wrong with it? Itâs a science book. About geology.â
âHundreds of millions of years? They don't teach you this kind of thing in church.â He snaps the book closed, holding it to his chest.
âHey, it's not mine. I have to give it back.â
âI'll give it back to him,â snarls Brett, âwith a piece of my mind for good measure.â
*****
The door to Mr Kalkowskiâs office slams open and Brett stamps in. He slings the book down on the headmasterâs desk. âWhat kind of reading is this to give to an impressionable teenager?â
Mr Kalkowski glances down at the text, pursing his lips. âJennifer has an active and enquiring mind. If she displays an interest in the sciences, it is my responsibility to feed that interest.â
âWith this rubbish? Trying to teach her fairy stories about things happening millions of years ago?â
Anger flashes across the old man's face. âIt is not for you, Brett, to interfere in the education of the pupils here. It is my responsibility, and I will ensure that Jennifer, and for that matter any other pupil of this school, has access to any and all appropriate educational materials, as I see fit.â
Brett leans over the desk, resting on his knuckles. âWeâll see about that.â
And with that, he turns and leaves.
*****
âLevi, I know you take a special interest in Jenny, but whatâs going on? Brett is telling me he thinks she should be taken out of school.â
The headmaster gives her a sharp look, his voice whiplashing back. âJenniferâs education is under my care. That being the case, as I informed Brett, I will see she receives appropriate instruction.â
Then he regains his temper. Sighing, âEleanor, please sit.â He waves her to a chair and after a momentâs hesitation, Mrs Collier takes the seat.
Mr Kalkowski steeples his fingers, choosing his words. âI am quite convinced that the so-called âhomeâ
Jennifer came from, was not a reputable institution. Certainly, there was no attempt made to educate her to the standard that befits both her high intelligence and her high degree of motivation.â He snaps a forefinger at her. âThat motivation, I feel sure, results at least partly from earlier deprivation.â
He considers the woman in front of him. âWould you not say, Eleanor, from what you have seen yourself, that there was something very wrong when Jennifer first arrived? Her visible fear for example.
Her appetiteâ¦.â
Mrs Collier speaks politely but carefully. âYes, Levi, I agree with you. Jenny wasâ¦. I donât think traumatised is too strong a word. That was clear. But itâs behind her now. Sheâs fit and healthy. Letâs be honest. Jenny is growing up to be beautiful. Sheâs making a life here. She has friends. Sheâs engaged to Chadâ¦.â
He interrupts her. âAll this is true. But nonetheless, it is still my duty to attend to her education to an appropriate level. I will certainly not tolerate interference in the curriculum I set for her on religious grounds.â
Mrs Collier ponders that, then fixes an eye on him. âAnd what exactly do you consider to be an appropriate level?â
He sniffs, âThat is entirely her choice. Jenny has what it takes to go as far as she wishes, and I will do my utmost to serve those wishes.â
*****
Richard Since Charlotteâs return, I have seen little of Michael. While she was missing, he clearly wasnât coping well, and now that she is safely back with us, there is frost in the air.
James works, and all the time, whilst appearing to read quietly, Charlotte is following him, her eyes constantly flicking between the pages of her text and his face.
Why did she accept him? A Master? She's not the dependent type.
She loves him⦠That's obviousâ¦
But is that enough?
The comfort of the familiar?
She grew up being told what to do?
She enjoys restrictions on her freedom?
And where does Michael fit into that?
Her Lover?
What does that mean in this situation?
â¦. Her Fiancé....
And James is happy with thatâ¦.
â¦. Even seems to encourage it?
Why?
What am I missing?
Later, while James is showering, and she and I are alone, âCharlotte, may I ask you a personal question?â
Her eyes turn on me, green and feral. Her voice is cautious. âYou can ask.â
Sheâs like a wild animalâ¦.
â¦. But I can see why he loves herâ¦.
â¦. as he obviously doesâ¦.
âTell me to mind my own business if you wish. I understand it is a private matter between the two of youâ¦. But why did you accept James as your Master?â
Her eyes glitter and she shows her teeth in a smile. âWhat do you mean? Youâreâ¦.â She swallows her words. âI know itâs the same between you and Beth. You must understand how it is.â
âI understand how it is for me and for James. And Elizabeth is a true submissive, in all ways. I do understand why she accepted me as her Master. But youâ¦.â
âI met him as my Master. He bought me. You know that.â
âYour contract lasted a week. Only a week.â
âBut I came back.â
âEven though he shared you.â
She shrugs. âI always expected to be passed around. I always knew I was trade goods. I didn't know about happy-ever-after and happily married couples. Even in the books I read, the king had lots of wives and they were expected to obey. What my Master asked of me was nothing in comparison to what I grew up expecting. He couldnât have been kinder that first week. Michael too. And I was paid very wellâ¦â
I say nothing, hoping she will continue, giving her a silence to fill.
ââ¦. and later, when I came back, he gave me everythingâ¦.â
âEverything?â
âEverything I ever wanted. Everything I ever wished for, even though Iâd not known it was what I wished for. And all he wanted from me in return was⦠meâ¦â
*****