Jessica

by Bryce Courtenay

  ‘May we not have him come out for a bit of tea?’ Hester persists.

  The colonel sighs, his impatience at Hester’s constant questioning now obvious. ‘No, you may not, Mrs Bergman.’

  Jack Thomas is waiting outside the colonel’s office and walks with them to the barracks gates, where Meg draws him aside and kisses him tearfully. ‘I’m sorry, Jack,’ she whispers, ‘but you won’t regret this, I promise you,’ she pleads.

  ‘Meg, you know you’re the wrong sister, don’t yer?’

  Jack says, so that only she can hear and then turns away, not wishing her to see his anguish.

  Meg brings her hands up to cover her face and begins to sob, so that a grim-faced Hester comes running over to her daughter. She takes Meg’s arm and draws her away from where Jack is standing with his back to her. ‘There, there, my girl, we’re not beaten yet,’ she whispers into her daughter’s ear. She has already decided the marriage must take place, even though Jack, or rather his bloody interfering uncle, has crushed her every hope for Meg’s future.

  ‘He hates me, Mother,’ Meg sobs.

  ‘He’s going off to the war — we may never have to care if he does or not,’ Hester hisses, though in a voice only Meg can hear.

  Joe, who has not seen the exchange between Jack and his daughter, finds himself strangely cheered as a result of the interview with Jack’s commanding officer.

  It is as though a huge weight has been lifted from his shoulders. The grant of land, the precious five hundred acres of riverfront for Jessica in the document he carries under his arm, proves that Jack has thought to provide for her in the event of his death. Even though the specific terms and Meg’s inability to comply with them make it impossible for Jessica to benefit, it proves to Joe once again that Jack Thomas loves Jessica Bergman, and wanted to marry his little girlie. Perhaps, he thinks to himself, despite her pregnancy to Billy Simple, things may be sorted out when Jack returns from the war, for surely Meg’s marriage to Jack cannot now take place?

  Joe decides there and then to tell Jack the message Jessica has asked him to deliver.

  ‘Jack, a quick word, mate?’ he says, and takes Jack by the arm and draws him aside. ‘Son, I’ve got a message for you,’ he says a little above a whisper. ‘It’s from Jessie. She says to tell you .. .’ Joe hesitates. ‘I’ll say it just how she said it to me, she said, “Father, tell Jack: Tea Leaf will be here when you get back.” , ‘Oh, God, what have I done?’ Jack chokes, clutching at the tunic pocket covering his heart. Joe sees the sudden tears that well in the young soldier’s eyes.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Two days after Meg’s wedding and only three hours off the train, Joe turns out of Dolly’s yard at Narrandera and heads for home. They’d taken the train overnight and despite Hester’s pleas to rest up for the day with Dolly Heathwood, Joe insists on staying only long enough for Dolly to pack them a hamper for the road and to allow him to get the pony and sulky from a nearby stable yard. Shortly after eight o’clock, with the sun already hot enough to chase away the morning chill, they are back on the road home.

  Joe has hardly spoken since the wedding and is back into his darkness. The three of them form a cheerless little group, with Meg spending most of the hours since the nuptials sniffing and weeping. Meanwhile Hester grows increasingly bad-tempered with her and not a great deal better disposed to her morose and silent husband.

  ‘For God’s sake, daughter, stop your snivelling. Have we not done what we came for? Are you not Mrs Jack Thomas? Buck up, girl!’ Hester is no longer able to abide either of them for their lack of gumption. ‘But Mama, it has all come to nothing,’ Meg wails.

  ‘Nothing? Mistress of Riverview. You call that nothing?’ Hester snaps.

  ‘But I’m not! The colonel said .. .’ Meg gulps. ‘What about the piece of paper he made Father sign?’

  ‘Ha, paper!’ Hester says dismissively. ‘You’ve got a gold band on your finger, that’s a lot better than a piece of paper.’

  ‘But it means we can’t move into Riverview unless I have Jack’s child!’ Meg looks up at Hester. ‘And I don’t have his child, do I?’ Meg looks at her mother, distressed. ‘Do I, Mother?’

  ‘Oh do be quiet, Meg,’ Hester admonishes her. ‘You don’t have his child yet.’

  Meg looks at her mother in astonishment. ‘Yet? Whatever do you mean?’

  ‘You heard me the first time, I will not repeat myself.’ Hester will comment no further, leaving Joe to his silent misery, and Meg no less weepy than before.

  They had not been able to talk in the crowded second-class train carriage. On the long ride to Narrandera, seated on the train’s hard wooden seats, Joe and Meg seemed miraculously able to sleep but Hester could, at best, snatch a few minutes’ sleep at a time, waking at each jolt and halting of the engine, so that she had ample time to think about the predicament into which they had been placed by Jack’s wily uncle.

  They had taken the milk train, which stopped at every station throughout the long and wearisome night until time and space seemed to be filled with clickety-clacks, shouts, shunts and the clanking of trucks at lonely sidings.

  Sudden shrill whistles, the weary huff and puff of driving steam, the acrid smell of smoke and the sharp, metallic taste of coal dust. Hester was exhausted by the time they came into Narrandera in the early hours of the morning, but she was determined on one thing — that come what may, Jack’s commanding officer, the man they called Cunning Tom, was not going to defeat her. As far as she was concerned, her daughter was now Mrs Jack Thomas and that was just the beginning.

  Now, on the road home from Narrandera, Hester tries unsuccessfully to engage Joe in conversation. After hours of badgering, Joe begins to make replies beyond a cursory grunt. By now he is numb with fatigue. Hester seems somehow to have recovered and is sharp and clear as ever. She wants Joe to agree to a course of action concerning Meg before they reach home.

  She has persisted all the while with a single question until Meg, exhausted by her mother’s pestering and Joe’s stubborn silence, begs her to stop, putting her hands to her ears. But Hester continues. ‘What will you tell Jessica?’

  Joe’s answer comes at last. ‘Nothing. I ain’t sayin’ nothing, you bear?’

  ‘But you must tell her that Meg is now married to Jack Thomas.’ ‘Why?’

  ‘Because we’ll have to tell folk. It will need to be announced on Sunday at St Stephen’s. People will want to know.’

  Joe reaches into the pocket of his jacket and produces the folded paper Colonel Cunningham-Thomas has given him. He waves it at Hester. ‘What, announce the marriage terms,’ he waves the letter again, ‘tell them about this, will we? No brat, no marriage, all signed proper by us?’ Joe grimaces and slips the contract back inside his jacket.

  ‘Of course not! There’s no need. Just that she’s married to him, to Jack.’ Hester now looks shrewdly at Joe.

  ‘The bank will be impressed — it may help you.’ Joe jerks his head. ‘Bullshit.’

  Hester looks down and sees that Meg is asleep beside her. She leans over and grabs Joe’s arm and in an urgent tone of voice says, ‘Don’t you see? We have to go on with the pregnancy — people must see Meg getting bigger, growing.’ ‘And then what?’

  ‘A miscarriage. Joe, you remember what the colonel said when I asked? What’s in the contract? A miscarriage is all right — if Jack dies in the war Meg will have the homestead and the five hundred acres of riverfront land. Jessica will get the other five hundred. You’ve said yourself often enough it’s the best thousand acres on the Riverina.’ Hester pauses then adds, ‘All we need is a reliable witness or two.’

  Joe looks at Hester, startled. ‘Miscarriage? Witnesses? What are you talking about? Meg’s not even up the duff.’ ‘There’s ways to make it happen. It’s better than nothing, isn’t it?’

  ‘No, it ain’t better than nothing! Hester, Jack don’t lo
ve her, don’t love Meg. If there’s no child, he’ll not keep her on as his wife.’

  ‘Ah yes, but if he dies, then what?’

  Joe shrugs. ‘Meg gets nothing,’ he gives a bitter little laugh, ‘which is fair enough — she don’t deserve a brass razoo anyway!’

  ‘Unless, like I told you, she has a miscarriage and he dies.’

  ‘Miscarriage? What miscarriage? The girlie ain’t bloody pregnant!’

  Hester shakes Joe by the sleeve of his jacket. ‘Joe, listen to me. Once when one of the sows miscarried, you said how the unborn piglets looked just like a human foetus.’

  ‘Jesus, how would I bloody know? I’ve never seen an unborn, whatd’yacallit, human foetus. All I said was it looked like, well, what I thought a baby would look like before it was growed a bit.’

  ‘That’s precisely it, Joe. That’s what I mean. It’s worth a try. We’ve come this far, got her married. A midwife would know a sow’s foetus if she saw it, but nobody else is going to be any the wiser. The Reverend Mathews won’t know. Neither would Mrs Baker, the organist at St Stephen’s. The two of them, they could be our witnesses.

  ‘Joe, look, we could arrange for Mrs Baker to visit and by chance be there when it happens. Her eyes aren’t too good and in the poor light with lots of pig’s blood around, she’ll not want to look too close. The two of them, her and the vicar, neither will want to be poking around counting off fingers and toes.’ ‘Nah, it’s too bloody risky. And what if Jack don’t die?’

  Hester spreads her hands. ‘Then he comes back and we sort things out. Meg’s still married to him. He could come back different, happy to have her, who knows?’ ‘Or he could throw her out on her neck. The contract says he don’t owe her a bean.’

  ‘Joe, if we can, you know, make it. seem like a miscarriage, just think what it may mean. If Jack is killed, both your daughters will be safe, will be taken care of for life — Jessica in particular, her bastard taken care of. Isn’t that worth a shot?’

  Joe is silent for a long while and then he says, ‘How are you gunna get Reverend Mathews ... Just how you gunna get him to witness a flamin’ miscarriage?’

  ‘I shall go to him and show him the marriage contract and make him swear not to divulge its contents, then throw myself on his mercy. He’s very fond of Meg and he’ll want what he thinks is fair.’ ‘What, show him the foetus?’

  ‘I’ll have to, won’t I? There’ll be lots of blood. He won’t look too close, he’s not the sort. I’ll tell him as we have no doctor, he’ll have to be the witness so the terms of the contract are met.’

  ‘What, and get him to bury it?’ Joe laughs suddenly.

  ‘Bury the bloody pig’s innards? Give it a Christian burial, “The Lord is my shepherd”, organ music, hole in the church yard, coffin an’ all?’

  Hester shakes her head. ‘No Joe, he can’t do that anyway — a child has no soul until it’s born. We’ll get him to say a prayer in church, a blessing, so folk will share our misfortune, know about it. He’s done that before. Then we’ll bury it somewhere it can’t be found. Meg will have fulfilled the terms of the colonel’s letter and be able to move into Riverview homestead and act the dutiful wife.’ ‘God, what has become of us?’ Joe sighs. ‘Will there be no end to this wickedness?’

  ‘Oh, Mother, do you think it will work?’ Meg suddenly exclaims.

  Hester turns to Meg, surprised. ‘Good Lord, child, I thought you were asleep.’ ‘Mama, will it work?’ Meg pleads.

  Hester shrugs. ‘It has to work. You got any better ideas?’

  ‘But what if we’re caught?’

  ‘Then we’ll know we’ve tried everything we can,’ Hester says calmly, ‘and you’ll be a very poor widow or an unwanted wife, one of the two.’

  ‘But we’ll be disgraced if we’re found out,’ Meg protests.

  ‘We are already disgraced — your sister has seen to that,’ Hester snaps. Then, to Meg’s surprise, she adds calmly, ‘I have some plain white wool from your Aunt Dolly. You’re to be seen knitting for your baby whenever there are folk gathered about.’

  At the mention of Jessica and the disgrace she has caused them, Joe is once more consumed with guilt. He has conspired to make Jack marry Meg when he’s in love with Jessica. Jack will go to war knowing that if he returns he will be trapped into a marriage he doesn’t want with a woman he doesn’t love. Joe is sensitive enough to know that a young man going to war should carry the memory of his sweetheart to comfort and sustain him. He tries, though with little success, to assuage his own guilt by telling himself that should Jack know that Jessica carries Billy Simple’s child he would think quite differently about her. He even imagines Jack might willingly settle for Meg in such circumstances and all would be well in the end.

  Joe does not blame Jack for succumbing to Meg’s seduction. He can well see attractive Meg offering herself to a young buck naked in the soft moonlight, without demanding a commitment. A scheming whore whose price is his future. She has fooled him by relying on his innate sense of decency, and his company commanding officer, Colonel Cunningham-Thomas, is right to have drawn up the contract. The guilt and frustration grow within him and he feels more and more that he is on Jack’s side, on Jessica’s as well. But Hester has committed him, implicated him completely in her plot to snare the young owner of Riverview Station for their eldest daughter.

  Joe knows he’s stuck. But if he simply draws the line and tells Hester they’ll take their chances and announce that Meg isn’t pregnant, there is the letter from old Doc Merrick to explain and their plan to trap Jack Thomas, all this followed by admitting to Jessica’s pregnancy, with the whole bloody countryside taking one simple guess as to who the daddy is and getting it right in one. If Jack returns from the war, Meg will be trapped with a husband who dislikes her and, if he doesn’t, she’ll have wasted her youth on the duration of the war only to end up a penniless widow. Two daughters, both of whom have destroyed their lives and who, with the money he owes to the bank, soon won’t even have a home to go to.

  Slowly Hester’s idea of faking a miscarriage gains momentum in Joe’s mind. After all, if Jack is killed, the chances are that bastard George Thomas will get Riverview Station or, just as bad, some obscure Thomas relations, perhaps even his uncle, the colonel. Didn’t he say he was gunna keep a copy of the contract? Besides, Joe thinks, Jack has admitted he loves Jessica. Why shouldn’t Jessica, who’s always loved Jack selflessly and been his best mate, get something? Christ knows, she’s gunna need it with a monster’s small child in her arms. Joe is growing increasingly morbid about his health. With Meg and Hester at Riverview homestead with good irrigation land, and Jessica with her own allotment, they’d be well took care of if he should die. Joe sighs. They’ve come too far to turn back now. His wife’s fierce ambition for Meg has, in the end, proved too strong for him. He’s beat, and he must go along with her until the end, whatever it may be. He, who knows nothing of irony, thinks now how Hester’s need for respectability for herself and their oldest daughter has caused all of them, except Jessica, to sink lower than a snake’s belly.

  Joe is disgusted with himself for his weakness and his silence, his attempts to remain uninvolved. He tells himself that he should use his fists on Hester for destroying his pride as a man. On every important occasion she has trapped him, committed him, made him do things which serve her ambition for Meg. Now, by making him aware that not just Meg but his youngest daughter will also be saved if Jack Thomas is killed in action, she has shown him up for the useless bastard he really is. Their future depends on a faked miscarriage and a fine young bloke being killed. Christ, life is a bloody nightmare, a man ought to put a bullet to his own head.

  Joe is feeling increasingly weary. His back aches constantly and the dull pains in his chest and left arm come more often now and seem to last longer each day. He knows that keeping the selection for his youngest daughter seems more than he dare ask. It
’s all too much — the sudden frailty of his body, the never-ending drought and the banks, who would rob him of all he has worked his guts out for.

  Always before, Joe’s seen hard work as his salvation. Even in the worst times he’s managed to scrape through by working in a shearing shed, as a drover, fencing, or as a bush carpenter, even walking behind a stump-jump plough. His powerful body has been there to support him, to work harder than other blokes, if only to pull and push, lift and carry. There has always been someone who will hire Joe Bergman for his strength and the value he puts into a day’s hard yakka.

  Now these tasks are simply beyond him. Though the heat is less at this time of the year, he tires after the least exertion and often finds himself stooped, gasping, with his hands clasped to his knees. It’s for this reason he has made Jessica work away from him — so that she won’t try to compensate and do too much in her condition. Joe is sad and confused but he doesn’t want Jessica to lose her child. He has seen the fierce, protective look in her eyes. Jessica’s child means everything to her and he is determined that, in this one thing, he won’t let her down. Jessica, he realises, will soon be severely slowed down, too heavy with child to help him to keep the rabbit fences up. With no dogs to help her, she’ll be unable to bend low enough to crutch and worm the few sheep that remain, or move the cattle to pasture to fatten them in time for the spring sales. That is, always supposing the rains come this season to bring the bitter dust to life. Joe lies in his cot at night in dread of first light and what the new day may bring. He worries that when the summer heat is upon them again he’ll be too exhausted to struggle through the day. He is already six months in arrears with the bank payments and he knows of two small selections like his own that have been repossessed by the bank. Both owned by good blokes, who don’t drink that much, work their land well and take pride in their capacity to feed their large families.