Chapter 8: Chapter 8

I lie beside her, in the dark, one arm crooked over her, my hand cupping the warmth of a breast as I wait for sleep to take her.

And all the while I think on her words.

I can speak of some of what happened freely enough. Elizabeth’s abduction, her imprisonment, Charlotte’s plan for their freedom….

But should I repeat to James and Michael the rest? Tell them Charlotte’s mother was a whore?

Dishonour her?

Without the chance to speak and defend herself?

Should I tell Will?

It’s part of the investigation….

Charlotte’s past….

Indecision gnaws at me, a cancer in my belly as I consider what is best to do. After what Charlotte has done for Elizabeth, how can I shame her?

When we get her back, that’s the time….

When we get her back….

Better to stay silent….

…. For now….

*****

Seven Years Ago “Here, Jenny, can you take this out to Old Jacob in the barn, please.” Mrs Collier passes her a dish of meat and veggies, mash and gravy, placing a lid over the top. “The plate’s hot, so use a tray, otherwise you’ll burn your fingers.”

“Isn’t he eating with us?”

Mrs Collier sniffs. “Feeding him while he’s working here is part of the deal. Having the smell of him at the table isn’t.” She gives Jenny a pointed look. “Unless you want to sit next to him?

“Um…”

“Yes. Um. Old Jacob's not too keen on spending his money on soap and water.” Mrs Collier’s lips settle into a flat line. “He always seems to have plenty for whiskey though. Anyway, he can eat out in the barn. Maybe Charlie and Maggie won’t mind too much.”

Jenny takes the meal across the yard to the barn, where she finds the tramp sitting on a bale of hay, a couple of bluebottles zipping around his head.

“Well if it isn’t young Jenny with vittles for a worker.” He pats the bale next to his. “Why don’t you come keep me company while I eat.”

Jenny eyes the zig-zagging flies with distaste. And….

…. there is something in Old Jacob’s eye that she doesn’t quite care for.

“I can’t stop right now. Mrs Collier’s just serving up dinner.”

He grunts, lifting the plate away, releasing a curl of savoury steam. It smells good, but he looks disgruntled. “Never any time for an old man. Maybe next time, eh?”

“Maybe.”

When she returns to the kitchen, everyone has gathered for dinner. Chatter and clatter and laughter echoes around as she takes her place.

“And how was your day at school, Jenny?” Mrs Collier passes her a dish loaded with beans and greens and carrots.

Even after all this time, Jenny feels guilty at having so much food to enjoy. But still, she is always encouraged to fill her plate. She scoops veggies up high, then passes the bowl to Brett as Nathaniel hands her a dish of succulent, sliced pork, the flesh glistening, the skin crisped and fragrant. Diane, Nathaniel’s hugely pregnant wife, slides a gravy boat across to her.

“My day? It was great,” she says, through a mouthful of mash. Mrs Collier casts her a look and Jenny works to swallow her food before she opens her mouth again to speak.

“What mark did you get for your essay?”

Jenny gulps a chunk of broccoli then, her voice a touch sulky, “I only got eight out of ten.”

“Only eight out of ten?” Tom parrots her words, his voice sarcastic, but he falls silent as Mrs Collier gives him a look too.

“Why only eight out of ten?” she asks calmly.

This time, Jenny remembers to chew her food and swallow it before replying. “Mr Kalkowski said that I have to remember not to split my infinitives, and to learn the correct application of the Oxford comma.”

She crunches down on a piece of pork crackling. “He said that once I have demonstrated that I know how to apply the rules of grammar correctly, after that I can learn to break them.”

Blank stares come across the dinner table at her. Diane puts her hand on Nathaniel’s arm. “Do you think I should have done all that at school, Nat?”

The big man looks down at where Diane’s swollen belly brushes the table edge, resting his hand briefly on the bump. “I don't think you need the Oxford common for that, do you?”

Jenny flushes. “Comma,” she mutters.

“Sounds a bit high fallutin’ for we mere mortals,” says Tom with a sneer, punctuating his words by waving a bread roll at her.

“Seems like a whole lot more to learn than you need when you've got that shovel in your hand to muck out Charlie,” snorts Nathaniel.

Jenny doesn't reply. Instead, she turns her attention to her food, but somehow, it doesn't taste so good as it did.

*****

As ever, she is in the library.

What is she looking at?

As he watches, she slips a book from the shelves. ‘Just Six Numbers.’ Martin Rees.

Mr Kalkowski nods a small, satisfied nod. An interest in astronomy is almost bound to lead to an interest in cosmology.

Still unaware of his presence, Jenny sits at the table with her book, humming a soft tune.

“Good morning, Jenny. You’re sounding very cheerful this morning.”

She startles and twists, for one moment, the fear showing….

What happened to her?

Then, recovering herself, she blushes pink, the colour rising from the scooped neckline of her summer dress, up and over her pale skin. “Oh, hello, Mr Kalkowski.”

The teacher pauses, wondering if he has committed a faux pas. “Jenny, is something wrong?”

“Oh no, nothing wrong. It’s just….” She sucks at her lips, her book forgotten. She rises from her seat, then perches herself against the table to face him. “We were keeping it a secret, for now at least, but I want to tell you first. You won’t tell anyone else, will you?”

“Anything you told me in confidence, Jenny, would of course, stay between the two of us.”

She comes close, talking quietly. “It’s about me and Chad. He’s asked me to marry him.”

He rocks on his heels, considering his words. “Chad has asked you to marry him? And…. you have accepted?”

“Yes, I have.” She frowns at his expression. “What's wrong? You don't think I should get married?”

He chooses his words. “A good marriage, Jennifer, is one of the greatest gifts life can give us. Those of us lucky enough to have known such, are truly blessed. But…. Chad? Are you sure, Jennifer? That this is what you want to do?”

She picks at her fingernails, her voice subdued. This isn’t the reaction she expected. “I think so, yes.

He's so nice and I really like him. And his parents think it's a good idea too.”

“Marrying for the approval of someone else does not a good marriage make, Jennifer. And also, you are very young to make such a decision, both of you.”

“Oh, yes,” she says airily. “We know we have to wait. But…. it’s so exciting.” She hovers. “You don’t look very pleased,” she says meekly.

“I just want you to be happy, Jenny. A mistake in something like this would be… very painful… for you.”

*****