by Luccia Gray
“Don’t say that. Why would your father die?”
“We’ll all die.”
“Of course we will, but not yet. He’s got grey hair and lots of wrinkles, but he’s not dying yet.”
“I wonder what it’s like to be dead.”
“You mustn’t talk like that! Let’s do something cheerful. We can sit on the beach or play with the dogs. I used to have two big dogs, now I haven’t got any. I miss Flossy and Keeper.”
After throwing the dogs some sticks, we sat by the shore. I told Max about Lowood and my friend Catherine, and he told me all about his horrid boarding school and strict teachers. It was easy to talk to Max, and sometimes we didn’t need to say anything. We just tossed pebbles into the sea and watched the ripples rise and fade.
Michael brought me there every afternoon during the Easter holidays. The last day, when Michael collected me, Max surprised me by asking if he could visit later in the evening.
Michael shot him an angry look, which said, ‘Be careful, you’re pushing your luck.’
Max spoke quickly, as he did every time Michael was around. “I’m leaving tomorrow and I shan’t be back for two months. I’d like to say goodbye and bring a farewell gift for Helen, if I may, sir. It’s a surprise.”
Michael nodded. “Not after eight.”
I rushed to the door when I heard Max’s carriage and screamed when I saw two puppies toppling along the path towards the door. I dropped to the ground and they jumped on my lap, licking my face. Max was grinning. When I looked up, Michael was staring at him as sternly as always while my mother sat down with me to play with the puppies too.
“They’re cocker spaniels, sir.” Max spoke to Michael, who didn’t look happy about having pets at the cottage. “Just like the queen’s. I had them brought from Bath.”
My mother and I cried our thanks as we rolled on the grass with the puppies. I wondered why Michael was so annoyed. I soon found out. When Max left and we went inside, he looked at me severely and asked, “How did Max know you used to have dogs?”
“I told him about Keeper and Flossy.”
“Did you tell him about Eyre Hall?”
“Helen,” said my mother, “remember we told you not to tell anyone about Eyre Hall. Did you tell Max?”
“Yes, I did, but he promised he wouldn’t tell anyone. Are you upset? Why do we still have to hide?”
They looked anxious but told me not to worry. That evening when I went up to bed I heard them talking about it.
“Michael, do you think John will issue a warrant for our arrest?”
“I don’t think so, but I don’t know, Jane. We’re still outlaws, and he knows where we live and that Helen’s with us.”
“Annette wrote and said she would speak to him.”
“John is so full of hate; I doubt he’ll listen to anyone.”
“Michael, I don’t want to go back to Eyre Hall.”
“We’re still safe here, my love.”
I heard the riffling of clothes and kisses. “I mean I never want to go back,” said my mother.
“Never, Jane? Are you sure?”
“I have been thinking about writing to John. He can keep Eyre Hall and the estate. I want nothing to do with it. Perhaps he’ll leave us alone if he keeps it all. We can buy a house here in Cornwall, a small house. I don’t care for a grand mansion anymore. A cottage, like this one, for you and me and Helen. Would you like that, Michael?”
“I like it here in Cornwall, too.”
“I have to speak to Mr. Smythe. I’m entitled to my uncle’s shares in the winery. I could sell them.”
“I’ve been thinking about a long term project here too, Jane. Blains’ uncle wants to sell the fishery. His wife died, he’s too old to do it on his own, and his two daughters have married and moved to Bath. He wants to sell up and move there too. It’s a small business, but it has possibilities for expansion. There are plenty of men prepared to fish in the shallow waters, and women can be trained to clean and cut and can the fish. There are also tin mines and small factories, which can make reasonably priced cans. Blains sold his pilchards in Cornwall, but we could expand the business. The train to London guarantees daily transport, and Cornish pilchards are world famous.”
“Michael, that’s a wonderful idea. How much does Mr. Blains want for his business?”
“I haven’t asked him yet, but we don’t have any money saved up at the moment.”
“Are we still in danger, Michael?”
“Write to John with your plans. I should think he’ll be glad to hear we’ll be staying in Cornwall.”
“Perhaps, but we still need some money to buy the fishery,” said my mother.
“Perhaps Mr. Smythe could negotiate a bank loan?” said Michael and I heard my mother agree.
“If you could you write to Mr. Smythe, Jane, I’ll speak to Mr. Blains.”
“Do you think Helen would be safer and happier at a boarding school?” my mother asked.
“We’ll ask her, but she seems happy here. You’re teaching her history and she’s reading the classics. She’s learning French with you at school. Shirley’s teaching her how to embroider and bake cakes. I’ll buy a piano as soon as I can afford it, so you can teach her to play. She’s got the dogs and her books, too.”
“Helen asked me if she could invite a friend from Lowood during the summer. She has no family, and Lowood is such a sad place during the holidays. What do you think?”
“Perhaps we should wait until we’re completely safe. She’s got a friend here. I think she’s busy and happy enough, don’t you?”
“Max is a good boy. He’s very kind to Helen.”
“I find it hard to get used to the idea that Helen is growing up. She was a child a few months ago, playing with her dolls, and now she’s in love. I don’t want you to lose her so soon.”
“She’ll be with us for a long time yet, Michael, but she’ll leave when her time comes. It’s you I want by my side forever.”
Then they were silent. I supposed they were kissing. I wondered what it would be like to kiss Max. My heart started rushing, and my breathing quickened. Minutes later, my head spun and my stomach churned. I felt something warm and wet slide down my legs. I lifted my nightgown. There was blood on my drawers. I screamed and my mother rushed up.
****
Chapter XXIII – Present Blessings
My mother was sitting by her writing desk and I was practising arpeggios on the piano Michael had bought. “Mummy, will you teach me to play Fur Elise? It’s my favourite, and you play it so well.”
“Of course I will darling, but you need to practise more.” She closed her book and took my fingers in her hands. “Your hands are small and your fingers are stiff.”
“My fingers are swollen with chilblains.”
She rubbed them between her hands and blew softly. She was so kind and loving. I couldn’t love her more if I tried.
“Would you play Fur Elise for me, please?”
“I haven’t played for a long time.” She squeezed her eyes in pain. “Since I was at Eyre Hall.”
She held me close and smoothed my hair. I thought she might be crying because she was trembling. I didn’t want to be anywhere else, but I didn’t want her to be sad.
Michael opened the door and rushed towards us. “The two most beautiful women in England.” He put his arm around us both and kissed our heads. “I should have come home sooner.”
I turned to Michael. “I think Mummy’s sad.”
“We’ll have to do something about that, won’t we Helen?”
“I asked her to play Fur Elise.”
“Perhaps you’d prefer to play Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.” He lifted the lid on the piano stool and rummaged through the music sheets. “Spring,” he said. Jane looked up and his lips were on hers before she could speak, and just like that her face melted into a smile and she looked pleased.
“Would you like to play it for us, my love?”
She took the sheet, plac
ed it on the music stand and sat at the stool.
She frowned at her fingers and the keys. “Let me practise a few minutes first. I haven’t played for a long time.”
She studied the sheet and practised some chords and notes. Michael whispered in her ear, but I heard him. “You look beautiful, Jane.” He kissed her neck. “This is my favourite choker and my favourite dress.” She stopped playing, leaned back against Michael’s chest, closed her eyes, and looked like an angel. He stroked her hair and inhaled. “Your hair smells delicious, and it’s grown.”
“I’ll be able to wear a bun again, soon.”
“I like your hair loose around your face, caressing your neck.”
She stood, put her arms around him, and buried her face in his chest. It seemed like a private moment, so I went to the kitchen with Shirley.
When I heard the piano, I went back to the dining room and Michael beckoned me to his side. He put his arm around my shoulder and whispered, “We need to look after your mother, and make sure she’s happy again. Will you help me?”
“She is happy, when you’re here.”
He nodded and he squeezed my shoulder. “You make her happy too, you know.”
Shortly after Shirley left, I heard the bell as the gate was pushed open. I rushed to open the door of our cottage. “Mummy, Michael, it’s Annette!”
My mother rushed to the door and hugged her. When she finally let her go, Michael kissed and hugged her too.
“Annette, it’s so wonderful to see you here. Come, sit down.”
She looked around the room and waved her hand at the window. “What a beautiful place to live, such amazing colours and light.”
“Michael and his friend Blains painted it and furnished it. Shirley cooks and cleans. It’s small enough that we don’t need anyone else. Michael and Blains do the gardening. There are some beautiful walks nearby, there’s a pond and a meadow, and the sea is less than an hour’s walk.”
“Where’s your study?” My mother pointed to the large oak desk by the window. “That’s all I need.” She pointed to the other corner of the room. “There’s Helen’s school desk. The bookcase holds her books, and there’s the piano. Michael bought it a few days ago. We spend our days here, together.” She pointed to the right. “There are two bedrooms behind those doors. We don’t need any more room. It’s cosy.”
Michael stood behind my mother with his hands on her shoulders. “We’re very happy here,” he said.
Annette smiled and my mother asked her to sit down. I offered to make some tea and I heard Annette asking her lots of questions about her health and how she kept herself busy.
“Have you thought of coming back to Eyre Hall, Jane?”
My mother looked at Michael and fidgeted. He squeezed her hand and smiled, but he didn’t speak and neither did my mother.
“We’re repairing the new wing, which the archbishop had closed. We’d like you to come and visit,” said Annette at last.
“We?” asked my mother.
“John and I.”
“John, is he here?” She sounded alarmed, squeezing Michael’s hand.
“He’s waiting in the carriage. He would like to see you.”
“Please leave, Annette. It was nice to see you, but John is not welcome in my new home, and I have no plans to go back to Eyre Hall. None at all.”
Annette turned to Michael. “Michael, you are both welcome, and Helen, of course.”
“My home is wherever Jane’s is. This is our home now,” said Michael.
“Are you happy here, Helen?”
I nodded. “This is my home. I like it here. I have my own room, and I have friends at school.”
“You go to school?”
“Only twice a week with Mummy. I help her teach French, and I’m learning geometry. Mummy teaches me history every morning, and we read every afternoon, except when we go for long walks. I don’t miss Eyre Hall. I have two puppies now. They were a present from Max. Michael built them a house in the garden. And Shirley makes delicious pastries and biscuits, and she’s not grumpy like Leah or Cook.”
“That’s wonderful news,” said Annette and then she turned to my mother. “We haven’t come to force you to do anything.”
“Why have you come?” asked my mother.
“John has something important to say to you. We have two gifts for you.”
My mother shook her head and Michael spoke. “Thank John on our behalf, but we want nothing from him. We will not see him.”
“He’s revoked the power of attorney and the accusations of lunacy have been withdrawn. There is no longer a warrant for your arrest, or Michael’s. You’re both free, and Eyre Hall and the Rochester Estate is in your hands again, Jane.”
“I told you, I don’t want Eyre Hall or the estate,” said my mother.
“Michael, please speak to her,” said Annette.
He beckoned me to his side and removed an arm from Jane’s shoulder, which he rested on mine.
“I have all I want in my hands this minute. Jane and Helen. I have plans to buy a small fishing business in Saint Ives. Jane has an income from her writing and her uncle’s winery in Covent Garden. We want for nothing more.”
Annette nodded. “I understand, Michael.”
“Do you, Annette?”
“I do, Michael.”
“Do you realise what he did to his mother?”
“I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I’ve put it behind me, but I won’t see him again,” said my mother.
“Please, Jane. John has something he wants you to have. Please let him give it to you, and I promise we’ll leave and never return.”
I put my arms around my mother’s waist. “Don’t cry Mummy.”
Michael put his arms around her too and whispered in her ear.
“All right,” she said to Annette. “I’ll see him one last time.”
“But I warn you,” said Michael. “If John upsets Jane, I’ll break every bone in his body, and I don’t break my promises.”
“Trust me, Michael. He won’t upset Jane.”
As Annette walked towards the carriage, Michael asked Jane if she was sure. She nodded. We faced the door and waited.
My brother’s face looked sombre. His lips rose slightly, as if he were forcing a smile, but it never reached his eyes, which looked darker than ever. His close-shaven face was pale and smooth, and he held his shoulders very stiffly, while his fingers fiddled with the rim of his hat.
“Mother, you look well.”
She didn’t reply and he turned to me. “Helen, you’ve grown. How are you? Do you like it here?”
I hid behind Michael and they looked at each other. Michael glared furiously, and John stared back defiantly before speaking again.
“I have something for you Mother…and Michael, for both of you.” He took an envelope out of his pocket. “Here.” He held it out to our mother. She didn’t move and neither did Michael.
“It’s a wedding licence.” He opened the envelope and read. “To any Minister of the Church of England, You are hereby authorised to join in lawful matrimony.” He looked up. “Both your names follow. It is signed by the Archbishop of Canterbury. This means you can marry in any Anglican Church in England.”
He stopped reading, but Michael and my mother remained silent. “It wasn’t easy to obtain. I contacted the new Archbishop of York, and he was kind enough to contact the Archbishop of Canterbury.”
Jane turned to look at Michael and they both smiled and hugged. Michael extended his hand and took it from John. “We thank you, and now we ask you to leave our house.”
John turned to Annette. “Let’s go then, shall we?”
She put her hand on his arm and smiled. “Wait John.” Then she turned to my mother. “Jane and Michael, we have something else for you.” She opened another envelope and read, “Mr. John Eyre Rochester requests your presence at his marriage to Miss Annette Mason on Monday, 1st July, 1867, at 11 o’clock in the morning at Eyre Hall.”
&nbs
p; She held it out to my mother. “We would like you to come.”
My mother leant back on Michael’s chest. He was still holding her shoulders tightly. “I’m not returning to Eyre Hall,” she said.
“Please come, all of you,” insisted Annette. “We need to talk about the estate. If you want to stay here, in Cornwall, I’m sure we can reach a financial agreement so you could buy a suitable house in the area. Jane, we don’t want to take what is yours.”
“We’ll be married as soon as possible at Saint Ives, and then we’ll discuss the trip to Eyre Hall, and we will write to you with our decision,” said Michael.
“Mother, I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me for any harm or unhappiness you have suffered through my fault.”
He turned to Michael. “Michael, I…”
Michael didn’t want to listen. “It is your mother you must apologise to and make amends with, but I warn you, once Jane becomes Mrs. Kirkpatrick, no one will harm her or upset her in any way without paying dearly for it.”
John looked at his mother and Michael, nodded, said goodbye and turned to leave.
Annette embraced us once more and followed John out of Primrose Cottage. She turned at the door. “Thank you for allowing us to visit your home. We’re so glad you’re happy here.”
My mother cried for a long time after they left. Michael held her quietly on the couch, kissing her hair and whispering endearments. He patted the couch next to him and beckoned me to sit with them, but I felt like an apple tree in a cherry orchard, so I said goodnight and went to my room to write a letter to Max.
***
Chapter XXIV – Mr. de Winter’s Request
Gloomy thoughts tormented my mind as I thought of my family home, Manderley. I sighed in the first class compartment as the colossal train hooted and whistled towards the countryside, leaving the jagged spires and majestic domes of London and its embankment in the distance. Eventually, the steam engine glided along the rails and I peered out of the mud-splashed window, watching the procession of posts and the clouds of smoke we left behind.
I had a duty to my family. Such an ancient and noble name and fortune as de Winter could not be lost or squandered. I had to make sure my son would be taken care of after I died, and I needed to make sure his mother wasn’t the person to do so. She had been excluded from his life when he was a child. My mother and I had discovered my unforgiveable mistake. It would be hard to accomplish because the miserable child had absolutely no other family, except that dreadful woman I once mistakenly fell in love with.
