Matronly Duties (15 page)

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Authors: Melissa Kendall

BOOK: Matronly Duties
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“It’s not your fault,” April manages to choke out between sobs.

“It is.” Everything is my fault, and I am the only one who can fix it. “I will make it better, I promise, I will find a way.”

Once we both have our tears under control, April returns to her desk and leaves me to my work. I pick up my pen and begin a letter to my parents.

Sometime after eleven, Red appears at my door with two extra guards at his side. “Your presence has been requested at an Environmental Council meeting this afternoon.”

I set my letter aside. “Requested by whom? All my appointments were cancelled.”

“It was the chief minister, Ma’am. He was adamant you attend.”

I sigh.
So it begins.

“Okay. What time?”

“It’s time to go now, Ma’am.”

“Thank you, Red.”

I stand and follow Red out. As we walk, the extra two guards walk right beside me. I swear I can feel their body heat.

When we get in the cart, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum sit on either side of me. My normally spacious seat is now a three-person sandwich, and I am the filling squished in the middle.

When we arrive at the Environmental Council building, the security sandwich continues. As I take my seat at the table, my shadows sit right behind me, so close that I couldn’t even go to the toilet without having to ask them to move.

The meeting carries on in the typical way—a bunch of men talk about air quality figures and surface temperatures. As they drone on, I can’t help but stare at Chief Minister Smythe. He sits at the head of the table, watching everyone closely but never saying anything. I have no idea why he wanted me here.

“Excuse me.” The sound of his raised voice startles me. He is glaring at one of the meteorologists. “That doesn’t sound right.”

The man stumbles over his words, but eventually responds. “You’re right, Chief Minister. I got those numbers mixed up. That should have been minus sixty-two degrees, not minus twenty-six.”

The look of anger on Smythe’s face seems way out of proportion for such a simple error. I wonder whether it really is as bad on the surface as they say or whether this is yet another ruse perpetrated on the citizens of Oceania.

I listen carefully for the rest of the meeting, but when it finishes, Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum dog my heels all the way to the cart and distract me from my suspicions. I can’t see any reason they need to walk so closely. There’s no way I could get away from them even if I tried.

***

Less than forty-eight hours later, I feel like a tinderbox ready to ignite. I have barely set foot in my office for the day when the door opens behind me. I open my mouth to reprimand this morning’s shadows for following me inside without permission but see it is Mr Denham.

Here we go again.

“What do you want?” I ask, sounding like a petulant child.

“Now, now, is that any way to talk to me?” He smirks, his expression sinister. He’s enjoying this.

I smile and affect my sweetest tone. “How may I help you?”

“That’s better, and it is I who can help you, Bethanie.”

Not trusting him one iota but still curious, I ask, “How?”

“What if I tell you I can get some of your privacy back?”

“I would ask you what the hell you are up to.”

“I’m not up to anything, Ms Greene.”

“And what exactly would I have to do?”

“Well, I’m planning on making a move on the chief minister’s job. When I do, I want your public support.”

I can’t help the chuckle that escapes me. “You both made it abundantly clear that I am just a pretty face with no real power. How on earth will my support help?”

“Well, Ms Greene, you may not have power, but you do have influence. A good word here or there in the right ear, a bad word in others, might help sway the votes in the right direction.”

“Say I agree to do this for you. What will you do for me?”

“I will make it so that your bedroom is once again your private space.”

“And if I don’t go along with this plan?”

“I believe you are aware of the lengths we are willing to go to get our way, Ms Greene. I’d hate for someone you care about to have an unfortunate accident.”

I blanch. As if threatening my mother with jail time wasn’t enough, now he has to threaten the safety of those I care about? I do my best to keep any hint of my emotions out of my voice when I reply.

“I’ll have to think about it and get back to you.”

“I need an answer by next week.”

“You’ll have one.”

He crosses his arms over his chest and smiles, though it looks more like a sneer. “Thank you, Matron Greene. I look forward to your response.”

Before he can leave, I ask, “You do know my office is bugged, right?”

“I do.”

“So you’re not worried about them hearing you talking to me about this?”

“No, not at all. I have a little secret weapon.” He pulls a small device out of his pocket.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a scrambler. When it is switched on, the recording equipment cannot pick anything up.”

With that, he turns and leaves.

Oh my word!

Not only am I being threatened and ordered around, now these men want public support for their infighting as well? I am sure there is more to Mr Denham’s request than meets the eye, but I am not going to let my friends and family get hurt on my account either. Unfortunately, if Chief Minister Smythe were to discover I was part of Denham’s plan, that could happen anyway.

I need to do something if I’m to survive these power-hungry men and their games. The question is what? I eventually decide to write a note for Red about the scrambler and another for April, asking her to find out if any former Matrons would be willing to meet with me. It’s not likely any of them will be able to help my situation, but I have to start somewhere.

Placing the notes inside a pad with my lunch order on top, I call April into my office to give it to her.

Red appears in my office almost as soon as she leaves.

“Just advising you that Jason has been relieved for the day, Ma’am. I will be taking the afternoon shift.” He discreetly pulls an envelope out of his pocket and places it on my desk. I can tell from the handwriting it isn’t a letter from Howard, but I’m curious to see who it is from. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

Before Red can leave, I open my briefcase and retrieve the letters I’ve been afraid to give him until now. He doesn’t hesitate to take them, simply nods and slides them into his pocket.

Once I am alone again, I open the envelope he delivered.

Ma’am,

 

I wanted to let you know that Margie is fine and in hiding with other members of her family. As soon as I got the call instructing me to collect you from the prison, I informed her you’d been discovered. She made the choice to leave Matron House before an investigation began. She assumed that by disappearing, she would be implicating herself as your accomplice and it might save April and me from undergoing any further investigation. Thankfully, she was right, and as soon as they discovered she was missing, they focused the investigation on her.

 

Second, as your Chief of Security, I should soon be able to select some men for your detail who will be a little more accommodating than those we have now. If you have problems in the meantime, just tell me and I will deal with it.

 

Lastly, if you need me to pass anything on to family or friends, I am still able to do that as well.

 

I hope this helps, and if you need anything else, don’t hesitate to ask.

 

Your right-hand man,

Red

Gratitude and relief wash through me—Margie is all right. I worry what it means that the family has had to go into hiding, but at least they are safe. I’ve been immensely worried that something bad happened to them because they helped me.

Just as I’ve worried for Howard and my parents.

Thinking about my parents, I wonder again how they are and what they are doing. Even by our usual standards, eight months is a long time without any kind of contact at all. I can only hope Red is successful getting my letter to them. I could use a little good news right now.

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

Howard’s lips collide with mine in a welcome distraction from all the things going on in my life. His tongue penetrates my mouth, and I can’t stop the moan that slips past my lips. I’ve missed him so much.

The sound of a throat clearing echoes from my left. I push Howard away until I can see his face. “Did you hear that?”

“No.”

His attention turns to my neck. He laves my skin with kisses that do nothing but stoke the fire burning deep inside. “Oh my, that feels so good.”

“Huh-hum.”

There it is again.

“Are you sure you can’t hear that?” The words are barely out of my mouth when I hear the loud scraping of a chair against the floor.

My eyes fly open and I look around, trying to get my bearings. It’s dark in my room except for a small amount of light under the door from the hallway. I pat around on the bed but there is no one else, just me. My dreams have been so vivid lately it always leaves me devastated when I wake.

The sound from my dream comes again from the far side of the room, and I realise now that it was my security guard making the noise. I look in his direction and, even in the low light, I can make out his intense gaze directed towards my bed. A shudder works its way down my spine, goose bumps covering my arms and legs. I can’t help but compare the way he’s looking at me with the way the man who tried to rape me leered at me.

Pulling my sheet up to cover myself still leaves me feeling exposed, so I switch on a lamp and flee for the bathroom.

The moment the door clicks shut, I collapse in a heap on the floor. My hands are shaking and my stomach is doing somersaults.

I can’t live like this.

First chance I get, I am talking to Red to see if I can’t get a different guard, maybe a female one, for when I’m sleeping. Then I need to speak to Mr Denham. I might be setting myself up for something far worse, but I will agree to his plan. Anything has got to be better than the way things are.

***

When Red arrives for the afternoon shift the next day, I wave him inside my office.

“Come in.”

He steps inside, closing the door behind him.

“I have something for you, Ma’am.”

My pulse picks up thinking he has another letter from Howard. The little square box he pulls out of his jacket squashes that idea.

“What’s that?”

He turns the box over and flicks a switch. “It’s the scrambler you asked me to source.”

“Really? Wow, it’s much smaller than I expected.” He hands me the device, which I tuck in the top drawer of my desk. “Thank you.”

“There’s something else I need to speak to you about,” Red says.

“Oh, okay.” I reach back into the desk and turn the scrambler on.

“I managed to uncover the identity of Estell’s baby’s father.”

A wave of nervous energy washes over me. With everything else that is going on, I had completely forgotten about Estell. Thankfully, Red is more conscientious.

“Excellent. Who is he?”

“His name is Mark Chapel. He was a high-ranking Trad, but he disappeared soon after Estell’s pregnancy was reported.”

The story that Howard told me when I visited him in prison suddenly comes back to me. His second-in-command, a man named Mark, had fled the city because his girlfriend got pregnant. That can’t be a coincidence.

“Do your sources have any leads on him?”

Red considers me for a moment. “No. But I think there’s someone you can ask.”

“Who?”

He pulls an envelope out of his jacket and slides it across my desk.

I pick up the letter and hold it with a vice grip. I have a good idea who he means, but anticipation bubbles inside me because I’m waiting for replies on all three letters I sent.

“Thank you,” I say, making a mental note to ask Red to replace my night guard later.

“You’re welcome, Ma’am. I will be right outside.”

When he closes the door behind him, I tear into the envelope. The moment I see Howard’s handwriting, I almost jump with glee. At the same time, there’s a small spike of disappointment that I still haven’t heard from my parents.

August 8, 2220

 

My Dearest Beth,

 

I was both elated and furious to receive your letter. Your visit left me feeling so happy, I swear my heart skipped a beat. But then, to find out that you were in a holding cell somewhere while I was back in my bunk replaying every moment of your visit? Well, let’s just say it makes my blood boil. Those government fuckers are going to get their comeuppance when the time is right.

 

Shit. I have to stop thinking about it or I am going to hurt someone, and I don’t really feel like spending time in solitary.

 

I can’t tell you how much I wish I could be there for you right now, helping you deal with all the bull going on around you. At least when Margie was with you, I had some solace that you had good people around you. And she’s fine, by the way, in case you weren’t informed. She’s safe with the rest of the family.

 

Christ, Beth, I think of you almost every second of every day now, and it’s the thought of getting to see you again that keeps me going in here. I can only hope it’s the same for you, or that it may be in time.

 

I want to learn more about you, Bethanie Anne Greene. And I’m not talking about Matron Greene—I’m talking about my Beth. Tell me something about you that no one else knows.

 

I eagerly look forward to your next letter.

 

Thinking of you, too, and please stay safe,

Your Howard

I have to put the letter down when I’m finished reading, my hands are shaking so badly. Relief, gratitude, and something akin to desire washes over me. I am so happy he’s all right. It has been on my mind a lot, my fear that getting caught sneaking in to see him may have had repercussions for him. The fact that it didn’t, and that he wants to see me again, makes my blood pump faster. I want that, too, more now than ever. Even if it isn’t going to be an option for a long while.

Would he really wait seven years to be with me? Should I expect him to?

Seven years—or even five, since I guess I’d be free to visit him once my term as Matron is up—is a long time. I have no idea what will come of this exchange if we continue it. My subconscious chooses this moment to replay memories of how we met and the intimate moment Howard and I shared in the cavern. Even without the mental reminder, I know I would wait years for him if it meant having a chance to experience that moment again.

I take out some paper to write to Howard, but April arrives at the door with lunch so I set it aside for later.

I ask her to join me, as has become our routine, and we talk while we eat.

After dodging questions about Howard, I ask if she’s had any luck getting me a meeting with any of the former matrons.

“No, unfortunately not. They’ve all either declined or not responded. But I’ve only contacted those from the last thirty years. I could try going back further to some of the older matrons.”

“Do you think”—I quickly go through a mental list of Matron names and birth dates I remember from history lessons—“if we go back fifty or sixty years some of them may still be alive?”

“I’m sure I can find out.”

“Excellent. Let me know as soon as you do.”

April smiles and finishes her lunch before returning to her desk to get started. My thoughts wander back to Howard’s letter.

Pulling it out, I read it again. His question at the end makes me pause. I don’t think I know who the real Bethanie is anymore—I’ve spent so many years as soon-to-be Matron Greene that the things that make me Bethanie have almost been lost. It is as if Howard knows what I need, though, that it will be beneficial to think about who the real Bethanie is.

My life before MITI was wonderful. I had fantastic parents. Not a day went by where I wasn’t happy and loved. It truly makes me wonder what my life would be like now if I hadn’t scored well on the FMAT.

My Dearest Howard,

 

As always, I was overjoyed when your letter landed on my desk. I’ve been so worried about you getting into trouble over my prison visit. When I started reading I was relieved but saddened to find that my news made you so mad. I don’t want you hurting yourself or getting into trouble because of me. You just need to take care of yourself and promise me that you won’t do anything stupid. I don’t think I could handle the guilt if something bad happened to you.

 

I must admit that when you asked me to tell you something about myself that no one else knows, I had to think long and hard about what to tell you. Honestly, there is very little in my life that at least one other person doesn’t have knowledge of. What I’ve decided to tell you about, though, is something that only my parents know.

 

I used to play the recorder when I was little, as well as the ukulele. I loved music and had hoped to study it when I was older. Of course, that all changed when I got into MITI, but maybe when this is all over I can give music another try.

 

I want to thank you for making me think about whom Beth Greene is. It has been a long time since I thought of myself as anyone other than Matron Greene.

 

So, seeing as I told you my secret, any chance you would tell me yours?

 

Here’s hoping I haven’t scared you away.

 

Your dearest,

Beth

 

PS: By any chance, does the name Estell Babbish mean anything to you?

***

A week later I still haven’t heard from my parents, but I do receive another letter and a package from Howard. Not knowing which to open first, I start with the letter.

My Beth,

 

My heart felt so full when I read that you had been worrying about me. Please don’t. I can take care of myself, but your concern for me means everything to me.

 

Now, if you have started this letter before opening your gift, please put this letter down and open your present.

 

Doing as he asks, I put the letter down and open the parcel. I am more than a little excited when I put aside the parcel wrappings and see a homemade wooden recorder. Picking up the letter, I continue reading.

 

I hope you like it. I made it myself, here in the woodwork shop, and maybe one day when I’m not in this joint, you can play it for me.

 

Thank you for revealing that part of yourself to me. It makes me feel special that you shared your love of music with me. As for sharing something about myself, I’m not really sure what to tell you. Okay, there is one thing I can tell you, but it is embarrassing and you have to promise not to tell anyone.

 

I know how to waltz.

 

I can’t help but chuckle a little at the thought of Howard gliding around on a dance floor.

 

You’re probably thinking, “what the hell?” Well, when I was fifteen, I was infatuated with this girl and she talked me into doing ballroom classes with her. Then when the semester of classes was over, she stopped seeing me. She only wanted me for a dancing partner, but I don’t mind so much now. Maybe one day I can take you for a spin on the dance floor and show you my moves.

 

So, in an effort to learn a few more things about you, I have some questions.

 

  1.                   
    Favourite colour
  2.                   
    Favourite food
  3.                   
    Favourite music
  4.                   
    Favourite book

 

And just so we are being fair, here are my answers to those questions. My favourite colour is blue, and for no particular reason. I just like blue. Though, if I’m honest, it makes me think of your eyes.

 

The food I like most is roast chicken and vegies. My mum makes a mean roast chicken, so hopefully one day I can share that experience with you. I am going to confess I don’t really have any favourite music because I don’t really listen to it all that much, but I did like the music that I used to waltz to.

 

Lastly, my favourite book is one I found in our family library called
Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea
. I don’t know why I like it, but I think it may be because it reminds me of some of the situations the citizens of Oceania face.

 

I look forward to reading your answers, but until then, I will think of you often.

 

Yours always,

Howard

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