Jessica (51 page)

‘I will attempt, of course, to present all the salient facts, much as I have done to you today. I will go about discrediting your character and that of your eldest daughter. We have seen from your response to Jessica's seven letters how easy this might be to do.'

‘Oh, but we shall deny that we ever received any letters,' Hester says smugly.

‘Then you are unaware that it is standard practice for a copy to be made of every letter sent from a lunatic asylum?' the lawyer lies. Pausing meaningfully, he then continues, ‘I am sure we will find other instances as well, all of which indicate a cruel indifference to your younger daughter's suffering.' He now holds up the little silk dress. ‘I would use this and the evidence of the aunties and of Mary Simpson.'

‘It's all hearsay,' Hester interjects. ‘Sticks and stones ... ‘

‘Ah, sticks and stones may break my bones, but words can never harm me,' Runche says, completing the childish quote. ‘You are a clever and determined woman, Mrs Bergman, but there's one thing you can't do, and it has indeed got something to do with bones. In the hands of any competent physician it can be quite easily determined whether a woman has given birth to a child or not. The physiological differences to the opening of the womb and the size of the pelvis, the cervix and ... er, other parts of the female anatomy, are readily apparent between women who have given birth and those who have not. I would, of course, obtain a court order, then choose
three
eminent surgeons, not one drunken and overworked one, to examine Mrs Thomas and Jessica and then to give the court their findings. Do you understand what I am saying?'

Hester is silent for some time, then she looks up. ‘As you can see, Mr Runche, my daughter Meg is a woman of a most nervous disposition. The effects of such an examination — though I have no doubt they would prove our case — would, I believe, do her a great deal of harm. Perhaps we may discuss how such an examination might be avoided?'

‘Very sensible, Mrs Bergman. Very sensible indeed. Let us begin with the business of getting Jessica out of Callan Park and, furthermore, how we might provide for her in the future.'

‘Mr Runche, do you give me your solemn word that you will not attempt to take the child away from my daughter Meg?'

‘My word? Certainly. I shall
also
try to persuade your younger daughter not to seek litigation. All I can say, madam, is that I would personally not help her in this endeavour. Perhaps, if you are generous in your settlement, I may be able to get Jessica to agree to sign an agreement to this effect. Though she can be very stubborn, as I imagine you know.'

‘And you must also ensure that, with any arrangement we might conclude, there is no suggestion that Joey has ever had any mother other than my daughter Meg. We will not allow his name to appear in any agreement and possibly at some future time become the subject of rumour or speculation.'

‘I can do that, certainly, Mrs Bergman,' Richard Runche replies, ‘but I must point out that it is not in your interest. I cannot frame a clause protecting you unless I stipulate what it is you are protected against. In this case, the concession you require is that your daughter Jessica does not take legal action against you to attempt to regain possession of her child.'

‘Not her child! Meg's child!' Hester snaps.

‘So, now we see the problem, don't we?' Richard Runche KC explains. ‘The child is disputed.'

‘What will you do, then? We simply
must
have such an agreement. The boy's name mustn't appear.'

‘Ah, we will refer to the lad as “the child in question”.'

‘The child in question?'

‘That's right, Mrs Bergman, that way there is no suggestion of whose child it may be.' The lawyer pauses. The roof of his mouth and his tongue are bone-dry and he badly needs a drink. ‘It's the only way I can think to phrase it so that it would be acceptable to Jessica. Though perhaps you'd like to engage Mr Cunningham-Thomas, who may find another solution to protect your interests?'

‘No, that seems in order,' Hester says, not looking at Runche. Then she adds fiercely, ‘And Jessica must never be allowed to see the child.'

‘What do you mean by that — she is not allowed access to the boy?'

‘Exactly. We don't want her mooning about, demanding to see him.'

‘Oh? Do I not recall Mrs Thomas lamenting that ... let me see, what were her words? Ah yes. “How very much I wish I could share him with Jessie, with his auntie,” wasn't that how she put it?'

‘Yes, well, we can't have it. I've ... Meg's put her foot down about that.'

‘Very well then, Mrs Bergman, let us proceed with the documentation. I shall, of course, require Mrs Thomas's signature and so I think perhaps she ought to be here too, don't you?'

It is mid-afternoon, and many further cups of tea and corned beef sandwiches later, before Richard Runche KC completes the documentation and obtains the signatures needed to free Jessica.

He has wrung several concessions out of Meg, including the deed to ‘Warralang', ten acres of freehold land, which comprises two allotments on either side of Yanco Creek and encompasses the boundary rider's hut where Jessica gave birth to Joey.
In
addition, she will be granted the permanent use of the old Bergman homestead for the remainder of her life, or, if it is sold or pulled down as no longer habitable, she will be entitled to a similar domicile anywhere she chooses to have it erected.

Hester points out that the Bergman homestead is two miles from what will become Jessica's land.

‘A short ride away. It is, after all, her family home,'

Richard Runche argues.

Jessica will be granted a yearly income of one hundred pounds sterling until her death.
In
addition, she will receive a horse and new saddle every five years, a pony and cart and, as further livestock, immediate allocation of a dozen brood hens and two roosters. She is entitled to a dog from a pedigree kelpie kennel, a small bore rifle and a shotgun with one hundred rounds for each every year, plus three hundred yards of fine rabbit-proof fencing and such farming tools as she might require up to a cost of seventy-five pounds and a further twenty pounds for the same purpose each year.

Meg Thomas agrees to undertake to engage the services of Richard Runche KC at the normal
per diem
rate of a Sydney barrister in order to conduct Jessica's release from Callan Park. Finally, both Hester and Meg will agree to her release and will sign her probationary papers and implement the probationary conditions they reqUIre.

‘She will not want to stay with us,' Meg now suggests.

‘She will not have to, your old home is provided. You will simply sign the documentation,' Richard Runche says. He is also at pains to point out that, of course, if anyone of the three examining physicians should find Jessica to be insane then she will have to remain at Callan Park. But if not, she will be paid a bonus of one hundred pounds for every year she has been ‘mistakenly' incarcerated.

In return for agreeing to all of these conditions, Runche explains that Jessica will undertake not to attempt to make any claim in a court of law concerning the parenthood of ‘the child in question'. She will effectively not be able to see the child and will allow Meg the undisputed claim to be the natural mother of Joseph ‘Joey' Thomas, born on Christmas Day in the year of Our Lord, 1914.

It is the best deal Richard Runche believes he can make under the circumstances. He comes away from Riverview Station not knowing if he can persuade Jessica that she has almost no hope of ever regaining her child. If she refuses to sign the agreement, the alternative is the likelihood that she will spend the remainder of her life incarcerated behind the high stone walls of a lunatic asylum.

On the train to Narrandera, Jessica sleeps fitfully, more wakeful ,than asleep. She has sold out her child for her own freedom and she must now convince herself that it is in Joey's best interests. Her child, living as her sister Meg's, will enjoy every advantage, and Meg will love and cherish him the way Jessica herself would have done. For nearly two weeks she wrestled with the decision, resisting the barrister's arguments. She couldn't deny that they were sensible but the prospect of losing her child forever nearly destroyed her and several times she made the decision to remain where she was rather than betray Joey in her heart. Jessica cries herself to sleep every night for the month it takes Richard Runche KC to put her case for release to the authorities.

It is Solly Goldberg who comes to her rescue. He visits the asylum for their monthly picnic and finds Jessica in a terribly distressed state. When he asks her what is wrong, Jessica finds herself, for the first time, unable to confide in her friend.

Solly Goldberg remains silent for a long time, then he sighs and begins to talk softly. ‘Sometimes, Miss Bergman, we cry. That is good, to cry is good. Sometimes we laugh, and that is better, to laugh is wonderful. Sometimes also we are silent, to be silent is necessary, my dear. But mostly we talk. To talk is to be a human. To be a proper person. To share our
tsuris,
our troubles, all what is our pain. If we don't talk, if we keep the pain inside, we die a little — every day we die a little, until one day the pain is gone. You know why goes the pain, Miss Bergman? I tell you. With the pain goes also the tears and the laughter. When we have no pain we lose everything, only the silence remains. When there is only silence, then you are finish,
kaput.
That is what it means to be mad.' He reaches out and puts his hand on Jessica's shoulder. ‘We Jews, we have a saying, “To live and talk is the best revenge.'”

Jessica starts to cry and Solly Goldberg moves over and takes her in his arms, rocking her. ‘Talk, my dear, tell your Uncle Solly.' So Jessica tells him how she has been forced to give up her child in return for her own freedom.

Richard Runche KC has spent the whole month securing Jessica's release. It's a process that would normally have taken a great deal longer if it were not for the fact that Jessica had never received her second examination by the Medical Supervisor and, furthermore, that the war is all but over and there are a great many disturbed soldier-patients on their way home, needing hospitalisation. The barrister successfully argues that Jessica did not undergo the correct admission procedure, which means that she does not require the individual examinations by three physicians to secure her release. Only the completion of the original and neglected examination by the Medical Supervisor is needed.

At the conclusion of Jessica's examination the Medical Supervisor remarks, ‘I only wish that my own daughter was as level-headed, sensible and sane as you are, Miss Bergman. I wish you well.' Then, in what can only be construed as an understatement of astronomical proportions, he adds, ‘I apologise for any inconvenience to you.' As Jessica has no history of delusions, hallucinations, delirium, stupor,. violence, hysterics, depression, suicidal tendencies or any other mental symptoms, and no record of anything but the most minor punishments while at Callan Park, her release becomes a mere formality, held up only by the usual government red tape. Jessica finally signs the agreement with Meg, though she's refused to accept any money from her sister. ‘They can't buy me off! No flamin' way! The horse and chooks and the tools and things, that's fair enough, Joe would've left those for me. But I'm not takin' their thirty pieces of silver! I can make me own way — I don't need their money.'

Richard Runche KC tries to argue with her, but he is becoming accustomed to the Bergman stubbornness. Finally he is forced to capitulate. ‘Very well, my dear. Pity though, it would buy an awful lot of claret,' he jokes, then adds, ‘I assure you I shall have no such crisis of conscience with my fee to your sister, my dear.'

Jessica embraces him. He smells a bit like overripe cheese, stale tobacco and spilt wine all mixed together, though she's smelled worse in the shearing shed. ‘I can't never repay you, Mr Runche. I owe you me freedom, me life!'

‘You have shown yourself to be a very courageous young woman, Jessica. That is sufficient payment. Besides, I haven't found the necessity to be properly drunk for nearly six weeks.'

‘You done it all,' Jessica persists. ‘Without you I'd never have got out. You knew I couldn't pay — you done it out of the goodness of your heart.'

Richard Runche KC throws back his head and laughs heartily. ‘Steady on, old girl. In the interests of the truth, I must remind you that it has been several years since I have been as well paid in return for my humble services.'

Now in the pale dawn light on the train, Jessica watches Richard Runche KC as he sleeps. She ponders how it is that the only people who have helped her in the nearly five years since she'd taken Billy Simple into captivity have been loners, outcasts like herself. A skinny-legged Aboriginal lady, her dear, sweet, loving Mary Simpson; a kosher butcher, his Communist son and his generous-hearted, invisible wife. And a drunken English lawyer, the black sheep of his family sent out to the colonies to get him out of the way.

Jessica reaches over and touches the sleeping barrister lightly. ‘Thanks, mate,' she whispers. Then she thinks how he could use a damn good scrub in the tub next to the windlass. Jessica tries to imagine the barrister with his clothes off, the way she'd once seen Billy Simple standing in the tub, and she is forced to giggle even before her imagination has his trousers below his knees. Jessica waits until it's light enough to read and she takes out Jack's last letter and opens it carefully, determined that she won't cry.