“The family is being watched too closely,” Margie explains. “And even if they weren’t, when Mum goes to visit him there is always glass between them and she is searched thoroughly. We never even would have gotten his letter for you if it weren’t for Howard’s lawyers.”
My shoulders sag and I sigh. “That’s okay.” I take the envelope back and tuck it away in my bedside drawer. “It was worth a try.”
“I’m sorry.” Margie stands to leave, but I grab her arm to stop her.
“Hey, um . . . before you go, I was wondering . . . were you aware of the plot to kidnap me?”
“No, of course not. Howard always made sure to keep family as far away from Trad business as possible. He didn’t want any of us ever getting in trouble for knowing something we shouldn’t. And he would know better than to tell me about such a half-assed plan. I would have told him how stupid I thought it was.”
I didn’t realise how much I was worried that Margie was in on it until now. “Thanks, that’s good to hear.”
“You know I’m on your side, right?” I have to look away, afraid that she can see the fear I still feel. “Beth, I may be here because my brother somehow managed to wrangle it, but I am your friend. I will help and protect you as best I can, even if that means protecting you from my own brother.”
I can’t stop the tears. To know that I’m not in this alone, that I have a real friend, is such an overwhelming relief.
“Oh, come here,” Margie says as she wraps me up in a bear hug. “We’ll get through this. One way or another, I promise.”
***
Arriving at the office the next day, I’m preoccupied with how to get my letter to Howard.
Of course, my ever-observant assistant is quick to notice. “What’s wrong?”
I hesitate for a second, unsure whether I should say anything, but decide I don’t really have any another option. I can’t send it through the post or take it myself.
The words are on the tip of my tongue when I remember that the office is bugged. “Nothing of any importance. I’m just feeling a bit down today. Why don’t we have lunch in the quadrangle later?” I hope my tone of voice and the expression on my face conveys what I can’t with words.
April nods and a quick wink lets me know, “message understood.”
A few hours later, we take a seat on one of the many benches scattered around the open space between the four government buildings that make up the headquarters.
I look around to make sure there is no one in earshot before explaining my dilemma.
“So,” I say when I finish, “any suggestions as to what I might do?”
April shakes her head and my mood diminishes a little more.
“May I be of assistance?”
Red’s voice from behind me causes me to almost jump out of my skin.
“Oh my, you scared me, Red.”
“Sorry, Ma’am.”
I ponder his question. Can he help me? Can I trust him? It occurs to me that he was probably standing there the whole time, listening to my conversation with April. I wonder whether he is offering because he genuinely wants to help or whether it’s another way of the government trying to keep tabs on me. My sixth sense tells me I can trust him, but I need to be sure.
“Red?”
“Yes, Ma’am.”
“Whom exactly do you work for?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, Ma’am.”
Realising I am not explaining myself very well, I try again. “Sorry. What I am trying to ask is where your loyalties lie. Are they with me or the government?”
“You, Ma’am,” he replies with conviction.
“So if I were to do something you knew others in the government wouldn’t approve of, you wouldn’t turn me in?”
“No, Ma’am, of course not.”
“Thank you,” I say, happy that another hurdle has been overcome. “Well, then I do have a dilemma.” I hand him the envelope. “I need this delivered, but not through the usual methods.” I’m taking a risk that he will turn me in, but I don’t think I have any other avenues.
Red gets a slight smile on his face. “I believe I know someone who can help. Leave this with me.”
I nod and try to eat some of my lunch, hoping I haven’t made a huge mistake.
Chapter 10
It’s nearly ten when I glance at the clock the next day, almost time for my weekly meeting with the chief minister. A knock sounds at the door and I stand to greet him. “Come in.”
The door opens.
“Matron,” he says, taking a seat in front of my desk and completely ignoring my outstretched hand.
“Mr Smythe.” I retake my seat.
“So,” he says, not even bothering to look up from his briefcase. His tone sounds somewhat ominous. I cross my legs and clasp my hands in my lap, bracing myself for what he’s going to say next. “The rounds of facility visits are over, and according to your reports everything was in order.”
“Yes.”
“I noted that the security reports for a couple of the visits did not match up with your own reports, however.”
Not sure what he is getting at, I ask him to clarify. “Security reports?”
“Yes, at both the power plant and in the farming sector Matron Security indicated there were issues with the citizens, neither of which you detailed in your reports.”
“I didn’t feel it was necessary. Neither were major incidents, and they had nothing to do with the inspection of the facilities.”
He finally looks up from his lap and pins me with a glare. “Well, whether you thought they needed to be in there or not is irrelevant. The report needs to contain all details of your visits.”
I clamp my jaw shut to keep the snarky comment on the tip of my tongue in my mouth. “I’m sorry, but I thought the point was to inspect the facilities. Not to give you a minute-by-minute report of everything I did.” I can’t help the prickly tone to my voice.
“Yes, well, you were wrong.”
I want to yell at him and tell him I’m not a child, but the last thing I need is to anger him or bring more scrutiny down on myself.
“Thank you. I will make sure I do them correctly in the future.”
I can’t help but feel like I’m getting in trouble from the principal, but the chief minister’s rebuke has given me the perfect opportunity. Seeing as he brought it up. “While we are on this topic, Mr Smythe, I wanted to find out why I can’t get any information about the pregnant lady I spoke to during my visit to the farming sector. Every agency I turn to refuses to give me information.”
“That’s because you don’t need it. You shouldn’t be worrying your pretty little head about one matter of fornication.”
“Excuse me?” I ask, using every ounce of self-discipline I have to keep from launching myself across the desk and slapping him. I didn’t spend twelve years studying to be Matron to have him speak to me with such disrespect.
“What?” he says, as if he has no idea what I’m talking about.
“I will not be spoken to in that manner. I am not a child; I’m the Matron of Oceania and you will speak to me with the respect I’m due.”
As I finish speaking, I notice a sinister grin on his face, but it is only there for a second before it morphs into a look of contrition. “Fine, I will try to be more respectful.”
Without even waiting for me to respond, he continues about various reports I submitted to parliament, but I’m not really paying attention.
Thankfully, the meeting is soon over. The moment he vacates my office, I kick the rubbish bin next to my desk hard enough to send it across the room. Although it’s a relief to air some of my frustration, I can’t help but imagine the bin is the chief minister’s head. If he’s going to keep me from getting the information I’m after, then I will have to try another route.
***
When I head home for the day, Red slips me an envelope as he helps me into the cart.
Looking at it with surprise, I recognise t
he scrawled words—it’s a letter from Howard. I can’t help but do a little internal jump for joy.
I turn it over and over, eager to tear into the paper and see what it says. I need to wait until I’m safe in my room at Matron House, though. I lean forward and tap Red on the shoulder. “Any chance we could take the quick route home today?”
Red glances over his shoulder as I give him my best innocent expression. “Whatever you wish, Ma’am.”
In no time at all, I’m curled up on my bed.
July 18, 2220
Dear Beth,
I don’t think there are any words that can adequately express just how happy I was to receive your letter. It was like a bright light on my dim day. Other than a couple of visits from my mother, I have had no contact with the outside world and I really do miss it. My thoughts often drift to you, too, but I tend to think about how my decisions have affected you. The fact that you were even willing to write back to me makes the weight of the guilt I feel a little less.
I just wanted to tell you that I have absolutely no problem with how long you took to read my letter. I understand that you don’t know me from Adam, not really, and the fact that you put any kind of faith in me from the short time we had together is astounding.
I do have to admit, I am a little concerned about these mysterious “things” you say have happened. You probably know I don’t trust the government farther than I can throw them. All I can say is please be careful and don’t trust anyone. Oh, and I include myself in that. I don’t expect you to trust me because I say so. I am more than willing to earn your trust.
I hope this letter will find you well. I would love to hear more about what you’re doing. I have to go shortly, as my shift in the laundry starts soon. It’s hard work but it’s better than the rest of my days, which consist of eating breakfast, walking around, eating lunch, hanging out in the yard, eating dinner, then going to bed. Pretty boring, so anything you can share with me would be greatly appreciated.
Once again, thank you for writing to me, and I look forward hearing from you again soon.
Yours gratefully,
Howard
A giant smile graces my face as I set the letter in my lap. His words make me happy, though I don’t fully understand why.
Unable to stop myself, I read the letter again and commit his words to memory. Then I reach into my bedside drawer and grab some paper.
July 19, 2220
Dear Howard,
Thanks for your kind words. They brought a smile to my face also and reminded me of my favourite book in the historical archives at MITI. It was a picture book, one of sunsets and sunrises from places of historical significance around the globe. I used to look at the images in that book often, and though its pages were dulled with age, the pictures were still so beautiful. Full of oranges, reds, and colour combinations I never could have imagined.
Can I tell you a secret? I wish I could go to the surface and see the sun for myself, just once. I know they say it can blind you if you look directly at it, but I suspect it would be worth it. Who knows, maybe in our lifetime we’ll be able to venture to the surface.
Nothing else much has happened in the few days since I last wrote. I had to give a speech at MITI, which was difficult. Promoting an image of something that is a complete fallacy made me feel sick to my stomach.
I wish I knew whether it is safe to tell you all the intricate details of what is going on. I could use a sounding board. Yes, I have a couple of confidants I could talk to, but finding time to do so is hard.
Anyway, it is late and I think my evening meal is ready. Look forward to hearing from you again soon.
Beth
I’m placing the letter in an envelope when Margie walks in.
“How was your day?” she asks.
“Fairly ordinary, for the most part.” My ambivalence is sure to pique her interest because I always have something to share.
“I don’t believe that for a second because you have a ridiculously happy grin on your face.”
“Okay.” No point keeping it to myself. “I got another letter from Howard today.”
“Oh, my gosh!” she squeals. “How exiting. How did he get it you?”
“I’m not exactly sure. My driver, Red, somehow got him a letter I wrote. And through whatever channels that letter was passed, Howard obviously sent one back.”
She sits down on the end of the bed. “Oh, that’s marvellous! What did he say?”
“Sorry, not sharing this time.” My response causes her to pout. “Nope, pulling a face is not going to get me to share.”
Margie smirks and then goes about her business. For some reason, I have a feeling that keeping the letters to myself has revealed more than I intended.
***
July 22, 2220
Dearest Beth,
Thank you for sharing your secret with me. I love that you feel safe to do so. It makes every minute I serve in here worth it. That my words can bring even the smallest amount of joy to your days is gratifying. I can assure you, your words bring me endless amounts of joy in what is otherwise a monotonous existence.
Can I share a little secret with you, too? I think your dream may come true, sooner than you think.
I have done a little bit of investigation and I can confirm that it is safe to write whatever you wish in your letters. The chain of hands they pass through to get to me is a small one and the men are trustworthy. I am more than happy to share the burden of whatever is troubling you.
I find myself curious to know more about you. Every new thing I learn only endears you to me more.
Hope to hear from you soon,
Howard
“Is that another letter from my brother?”
I nod at Margie, trying to keep from grinning like a Cheshire cat.
“Wow, didn’t you only get one a couple of days ago?”
“Uh-huh.” Not a particularly eloquent answer, but the grin on her face means I still have given away more than I intend to.
“Take it you’re not going to share with me this time either?”
I shake my head then change the subject. “How was your day?”
“Interesting,” she replies. “I kind of have a surprise for you, but you have to promise to be quiet.”
“If you say so,” I reply, not knowing what else to say.
Grabbing my hand, Margie pulls me over to my giant wardrobe. Putting her finger to her lips in the universal sign to be quiet, she opens the door. Standing inside is none other than Howard’s mum, Rhonda.
I almost forget my promise to be quiet. I cover my mouth with one hand and wave at her with the other.
“Don’t be silly,” Rhonda says as she pulls me in for a hug. “How are you?”
“Fine. What are you doing here? How did you get in my wardrobe?” It’s not that I’m not grateful to see her, but she is the absolute last person I was expecting to see.
“My darling daughter here tells me you have a situation you need help with.”
“Situation?”
“With my son.”
“Oh.” She pulls me over to the bed and we sit down. “Yes, I do. I want to go to the prison and see him.”
“We can definitely organise that,” Rhonda replies. “Getting you in there I don’t think is going to be a problem. Getting you out of here, though, that is another matter entirely. Other than Margie, is there anyone you can trust?”
“My secretary seems to be on my side; my bodyguard, too.”
“Good. I’ll speak to a couple of the Trads I know and double-check that for you so we won’t be walking into a trap. We will have to organise a disguise for you as well, and put you on the visitors’ list under a fake name. I’ve been there enough times to have the routine down pat. I can make sure you know everything you need to in order to keep you safe. We won’t tell him you’re coming, though. I think it will be a nice surprise for him. The rest of the plan will all depend on who we can trust to help.”
“Okay. That’s i
t?”
“For now. Once we have a better idea of who can help get you out of here, then we can solidify the plans. Now, enough about that. How are you doing, really?”
“I’m not going to lie—the last few weeks have been tough,” I say. “After finally reading Howard’s letter, though, I am so much better. It is like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.”
“That’s good to hear. I think going to visit him will lift a weight from someone else’s shoulders as well, not going to lie to you,” she says with a chuckle. “He has been moping more than he should be, even in his present situation.”
I’m a little shocked to hear this. He always sounds so happy in his letters. Maybe he is putting on a front for me. I make a mental note to mention in my next letter that I prefer he tell me everything, the good and the bad.
“Um, while you’re here, there is something I’ve wanted to ask,” I say.
“Yes, what’s that?”
“You’ve been around a little longer than I have, and well, I was wondering if it’s always been like this.”
“Has what been like this?”
“The Matron system. Has it always been a pretence?”
“No, I don’t think so. I remember my grandmother telling me stories when I was little about what things were like when she was a girl. And she always spoke so highly of what life was like and would tell me that being a Matron was a great honour and I could be Matron one day if I wanted to. I never took the FMAT, though, so that was never an option for me. But it has definitely been corrupt for as long as I’ve been of age. Why?”
“I guess I’m feeling a bit cheated. I missed a lot of my childhood studying for something that I was led to believe was crucial to our society’s survival but it’s not.” I drop my head into my hands, tears welling in my eyes.
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