Matronly Duties

by Melissa Kendall

  “Okay,” I say as I move over next to her.

  “So,” she says, picking up two leather rucksacks. “You can only take two bags with you, one for clothing and one for everything else. I need you to tell me what you want to take with you so I can pack it.”

  “I can do that. I assume I will need mainly casual clothes?” She nods and continues packing away the books she was working on when I arrived.

  Knowing I don’t have that many casual clothes, I grab all of them to see what I have. I am a little shocked to find I have even less than I thought—just three T-shirts, three pairs of pants, and three jumpers.

  “How much do you think I will need?” I ask, looking at the measly pile in front of me.

  “I would think at least a week’s worth of clothes, two at the most.”

  Turning back to the wardrobe, I start going through my more official clothing. I grab five of my favourite button-down shirts and add them to the pile. Then I start thinking of bottoms. Most of my work clothing consists of skirts, and they are probably not going to be suitable for wherever I am going. I do have two ankle-length skirts that have plenty of room to move in, so they will probably be okay. After adding them to the pile, I turn towards my drawers. I grab five pairs of heavy stockings and as much underwear as I can. As I count out my undies, it turns out I only have twelve pairs so I will be taking all of them, and the three bras I own. Lastly, I go through my shoes. I only have two suitable pairs, so I throw those on the pile as well.

  “Okay, I’m done,” I say with an air of finality.

  Susan turns around and looks at my pile, collects it, and returns to what she is working on.

  “Um . . . I don’t know when this has to be packed by, but I am going to need some of it, especially my underwear, in the meantime.”

  She looks at me and I can tell she understands my dilemma. After thinking about it for a while, Susan asks if I can afford to buy more.

  I decide to arrange to go shopping tomorrow after my speech.

  ***

  On the ride to Western Rim Primary School the next day, my nerves kick up a gear. This is the first time in a long while that I will be giving a speech in which I want the audience to truly hear what I have to say. I’m also still a bit distracted by the episode with Susan last night.

  Fortunately, when I walk into the auditorium, I instantly feel a sense of calm wash over me. The eager looks on the girls’ faces remind me why I am there—they are all taking the FMAT in the next year.

  I want to tell them to run as fast as they can and not look back, but I have to be more diplomatic than that.

  “Good morning, girls.”

  A chorus of “Good morning, Matron Greene” is fired back at me.

  With a quick inhale, I start my speech.

  “The reason you are all here today is that sometime in the next year you are going to turn thirteen, the magical age when all girls of this great nation take the test to see if they are future Matron material. It is a great honour to be chosen to study to become a Matron, and out of all of you sitting here in front of me today, it is likely that only one or two of you will be chosen to go to MITI.”

  Just as I am about to start the good part of the speech, there is a commotion at the auditorium door and a raft of security personnel storm in.

  I glance at Red, and the puzzled look on his face tells me he has about as much idea what this is about as I do.

  We watch as they cordon off all the exits before surrounding the podium. Looking around the auditorium, the frightened faces of the girls in the audience help me keep my cool. When one of the security personnel grabs me and pushes me towards an exit, however, I am not inclined to go with him.

  “Who the hell do you think you are?” I say, planting my feet. “Unhand me at once.” I don’t want to make too much of a scene, but I’m not going to be manhandled either.

  Red steps between the guard and me. “Let go of her now.” His tone indicates violence, and the guard lets go of my arm.

  “There is a security threat, Ma’am, so we were sent here to collect you. We were told to remove you by force if you resisted.”

  “I would have been happy to go with you, but you never gave me the option. Not to mention your behaviour is scaring them.” I point to the crowd.

  Red pries the man’s hand from my arm, and I have to hide my smile at the guard’s wince.

  Returning to the podium, I say, “Girls, I have to apologise for this interruption. It appears there is an urgent matter I must attend to. I am sorry. I hope I can come back and talk to you again soon.”

  With a boo from the audience, I wave and smile as I follow the guards to a waiting cart. Red drives me back to my office, where two guards are already stationed at the door.

  I wait half an hour for someone to show up and explain what is going on. When my office door opens, Chief Minister Smythe enters, along with Detective Simpson. The chief minister has a pleased grin on his face, whereas Detective Simpson’s expression is far graver.

  “So are you going to tell me what you know?” Chief Minister Smythe asks.

  “About what? I have no idea what is going on, just that there is a security matter.”

  “Oh, don’t play coy with me, missy. Surely you’re aware Howard James broke out of jail this morning.”

  I gasp. I knew they were planning something, but I didn’t realise it would be this soon. As the realisation sinks in, though, I have to work my shocked expression from turning to one of joy.

  “Are you telling us that you didn’t know about the breakout?”

  “No, why would I?”

  “We’re not stupid, Ms Greene. We know you two have been exchanging letters. We figured you were kept informed.”

  I try hard not to react to that statement. If they had intercepted any of the letters they would already know that I’ve been told nothing about the logistics of his breakout. Still, I figure a little shock value won’t hurt.

  “I hate to disappoint you, but all we talk about in those letters is fornication and our favourite books.”

  The chief minister’s face turns bright red, but Detective Simpson simply steps forward. “You won’t mind letting us read the letters, then.”

  “I most certainly will. They are private, and I am not having you or anyone else looking at them.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Mr Simpson opens the door and calls in two OSP officers. “Search this place top to bottom.”

  I don’t have any choice but to watch as they turn my office upside down. When they are done all they have found is my scrambler.

  One of the officers hands it to Chief Minister Smythe, who throws it against the wall, sending pieces of it flying off in every direction.

  “Fine, ” he says. “Have it your way. Until such time that Howard James is captured and returned to prison, you are under house arrest. You will not leave Matron House for any reason and will have round-the-clock security. If you attempt to get past security for any reason, you will be immediately remanded to prison. Do I make myself clear?”

  There is no point in arguing with him, so I nod.

  “You have five minutes to clean this up, then OSP will escort you home.”

  “April, can you come in here and help me?” I call out once he’s gone.

  I tell her what is happening as we pack my things.

  “I’m going to miss you,” I say, holding back tears.

  “Me, too,” April replies, her tears already flowing.

  I pull her in for a hug. She whispers in my ear, “It’s going to be all right. They suspected this might happen.”

  I pull away and look at her, my eyes full of hope.

  She nods in response to my unasked question. “You just have to be strong for a little while longer.”

  My mood lifts and a giant grin graces my face. Howard’s out of prison, and he’s coming for me.

  Chapter 17

  After I double-check I have everything, April and I say our goodbyes with one final
hug. I’m not sure I will ever see her or my office again, and although I will miss her, I’m not even sad about the fact my time as Matron is most likely over.

  Red returns me to Matron House, where a feeling of dread washes over me when I see there are extra security guards stationed at every exit. It’s only now that I realise my dreams of leaving this place have been severely compromised. They may not come for me with this kind of security.

  I head straight to my room, thankful the security guards stop at the door. Susan follows me in, and I turn to her as soon as the door is shut.

  “So what will we do while I’m stuck in here?”

  “Well, I don’t know about you, but I have a job to do,” she replies cheekily.

  “Hardy har har. I’m being serious.”

  “Well, you should be thankful you have a few books to read. It could be a lot worse.”

  As I glance at all the books on the shelves, one title in particular catches my eye—Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea. I finally have time to read Howard’s favourite book. So that’s what I do.

  For a whole week I read, sleep, read some more, play cards with Susan, and then start the cycle all over again. It is boring to say the least, but it could be worse.

  The one thing that keeps me going is Howard’s letters. I haven’t received anything new, but the pile from all those months he was in jail is more than sufficient. It is strange to go back and read the early letters. I can see how patient he was with me, and it only makes my feelings for him stronger. To see the tone of the letters change and recognise how comfortable we have gotten with each other is the reminder I need to keep my hopes up.

  ***

  I run through the catacombs, thanking my lucky stars for the freedom that jogging affords. Nothing puts my mind at rest like my feet pounding the pavement.

  I round a bend, and a figure steps out of the shadows ahead. I can’t see who it is from this distance, but I recognise him as I get closer.

  Breaking into a sprint, I run until I’m jumping into Howard’s outstretched arms.

  “Hey, beautiful. I missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too, so much.”

  Before I can even contemplate what him being here means, his lips are on mine and the heat of our passion spreads from my lips all the way down to between my legs.

  “Oh, my,” I moan. The feeling of him is amazing. I am tempted to throw caution to the wind and let him take me right here.

  Suddenly, his hand is over my mouth, telling me I need to be quiet.

  “Wake up, miss. You need to wake up.”

  My eyes fly open, and instead of being in the catacombs with Howard, I’m still in my room. I could cry at the realisation that it was nothing more than a dream. As my sleep haze wears off, though, I take full notice of the person hovering over me.

  I open my mouth to scream, but it is quickly covered once again. “Please, don’t scream. We’re here to take you to Howard.”

  Understanding hits me and I nod as he pulls his hand away. I take a couple of deep breaths to calm my racing heart, then say, “Well, let’s go.”

  As my eyes adjust to the darkness, I see four men in dark clothing and masks scattered at various points around my bed. One man hands me a set of casual clothes, and I take them gratefully. I would definitely prefer not to flee in my pyjamas. As I hop out of bed, the same man asks me which bags I’m taking with me.

  “There are two rucksacks hidden in the back of my cupboard.”

  I dash into the bathroom to dress, changing into the jeans and jumper provided. My flyaway hair is quickly tamed into a high ponytail. Looking up, I stare at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The woman reflected back at me isn’t the same one who only months ago couldn’t wait to be Matron. No, she is wiser now and a tad more jaded, but she is hopeful that she is finally moving on to something better. With one last goodbye to Matron Greene, I turn and walk out of the bathroom.

  “Ready to go, ma’am?” asks one of the masked men.

  “Ready as I’ll ever be,” I respond, sliding my shoes on.

  With two of the men in front of me and the other two behind me, we head into the hallway. As I exit my room, the two security guards who usually guard my bedroom door are lying unconscious on the floor. It crosses my mind to check if they are hurt, but I don’t really have time. This may be my only chance to escape.

  We move stealthily along the hallway and down the stairs. There is another prone form at the bottom of the stairs, but when we round the corner, we are confronted by a guard who is very much alert and on the lookout. He starts to open his mouth, but before he can say anything, one of my escorts shoots him with a Taser, knocking him out cold.

  “Will he and the others be okay?” I whisper to one of the men in front of me.

  “They’ll all have one hell of a headache, but they’ll live.”

  The coldness of his tone makes me think that he would prefer that they not live, but now is neither the time nor the place to explore that.

  We keep moving in a fast but careful manner through the mansion. As soon as we turn towards the basement, I realise we’re headed to the tunnel I used when I snuck out to visit Howard.

  The masked men take out another two guards once we reach the basement, but after that there isn’t anything else between us and freedom.

  The tunnel, which petrified me when I had to go through it by myself, doesn’t have the same affect this time. Maybe it’s that I’m not alone, or maybe it’s because the men with me have torches. Either way, I feel safe, and the fifteen-minute journey to the far end seems to pass by in barely a minute.

  I want to jump for joy when we make it out in the open, but moments later, an alarm sounds in the distance.

  Before I can process what’s happening, someone grabs my arm and sprints down the road in the opposite direction of where the cart had been parked last time I escaped. The cart is large, a ten-seater instead of the normal four-seater. We all pile in, and the man who takes the driver’s seat tells me to lie on the rear seat under a blanket. The engine starts and we take off. While we’re underway, I try to keep a mental tally of the turns we make so I can work out where they are taking me. They make so many, however, that I quickly lose track. After what seems like hours of driving around in circles, we finally stop. I can only hope we have reached our destination.

  “We’re here,” one of my rescuers says, pulling off the blanket.

  He offers me a hand, which I gladly take as I get out of the cart. A quick glance around reveals we are somewhere inside the catacombs.

  The man points towards a door as he removes his mask. “Through there.”

  Another of the men, also now free of his mask, holds the door open for me as I step inside.

  He shuts the door without following me as I expect him to, but when I turn around, Howard is standing at the end of the corridor, waiting for me.

  My memories haven’t done him justice. He’s dressed in new-looking jeans and a jumper that fit him perfectly, highlighting his muscular frame to perfection. He stands stock-still, an unreadable expression on his face. Is he happy to see me? Is his heart doing backflips like mine? In all my fantasies about this moment, not once was he unhappy about our reunion.

  Suddenly, his expression changes and his mouth curls into a giant grin. He steps forward and holds his hands open in invitation. Before I can second-guess myself, I break into a run, not caring about anything else but getting to the man waiting for me.

  Instead of launching myself at him like I did in my dream, I come to a halt right in front of him. Although he has his arms open, I don’t want to presume he wants me in them. I don’t have to worry too long, as he pulls me into his arms. His lips collide with mine in a kiss that is just on the good side of brutal. Every single thought in my mind flees, and I melt into his embrace. If he didn’t have his arms firmly wrapped around my torso, I’d likely be a puddle of goo on the floor.

  When I start to run out of air, Howard breaks away from th
e kiss with a contented sigh. “Jesus, I missed you. Been wanting to do that for months.”

  The hint of desperation in his tone makes me slightly giddy. It’s like everything is suddenly right with the world.

  “Glad I could accommodate,” I reply.

  My gaze stays locked on his while I relish the security his embrace offers. After a time, I rest my head on his chest and take a deep breath, sighing as I exhale.

  “Are you okay?” Howard asks, rubbing my back in a soothing gesture. “My men didn’t scare you, did they?”

  “No, they were very kind.” I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  Howard tightens his embrace for a second. “I’m fine. I’ve been worried about you.”

  “Yeah, it’s just been a tough few months and I’m over it. I could do with a little R & R.”

  “It’s all right. I totally understand. You’ve been going through a lot, and with very little in the way of support.”

  “Thanks. I still don’t fully understand what is going on.”

  “Well, let’s grab your bags, then we will head to tonight’s campsite. Once we’re settled, I’ll see what I can do to bring you up to speed. We won’t be going to the main cavern until tomorrow.”

  Holding my hand, he leads me to where my bags are sitting inside the door I came through. After picking them up, he takes me back the way we came. We walk for about thirty minutes before the tunnel opens into a small cavern. The temperature drops rapidly here, and we stop for a minute to add some extra layers before continuing. His hand never leaves mine the entire time, though I’m too busy watching where I put my feet to ask any of the questions flying around my brain. We eventually reach a small campsite that, by the looks of it, has been here a while. Two men are seated around a fire.

  Howard places my bags inside the shelter, a canvas tent, and then leads me to one of the chairs next to the fire. The temperature here is not freezing, but there is a definite chill in the air and I’m glad for the warmth.

  “So what now?” I ask, glancing around at the three other tents in the cavern.