Matronly Duties (13 page)

“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.

Rhonda puts her arm around my shoulder, pulling me close. I accept her comfort and let the tears spill freely down my cheeks. Though Margie has been a great help, our relationship is not really one where we hug. The strong motherly embrace only makes me cry harder as I realise it has been at least a year since I had a hug from my own mum.

***

A few days later, Margie gives me a letter that details the plan for me to see Howard in person.

I scan the missive quickly and glance at Margie. “Fake being sick? Do you think that will really work?”

“Sure. If you’re supposed to be in bed all day anyway, then no one will miss you.”

“I guess that makes sense. And this tunnel you’re going to sneak me out of, it’s definitely safe?”

“Yeah, it’s how I got Mum in the other day.”

I read the letter a couple of times to make sure I understand all the details. “Okay, good. Well, I will double-check all of this with Red and April to make sure they’re on board with the plan, but it should be fine.”

I discuss it with April first, and she immediately sees the first problem.

“The moment you try to cancel an engagement because you’re sick they’re going to want you examined by a doctor.”

I realise she’s right. “So how do you think I can get around it?”

She thinks for a moment. “There is one way, but it won’t be pleasant.”

“What is it?”

“Well, there is this drug that makes you violently ill. And by violently ill I mean you will throw your guts up.”

“And how long do the drug’s effects last?”

“They last as long as you want them to, as there is an antidote that stops the symptoms almost instantaneously.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad.” It could be worse. The symptoms could last for hours. And it’s not like I have an abundance of other options.

On the way home, I ask Red his opinion. He sees problem number two.

“Ma’am, it may not be that simple. Evading security is going to be extremely hard. You’re only aware of what you can see around you. There is a lot of other security you can’t see.”

Confused, I ask, “What do you mean?”

“Well, on top of the guards that you see every day, there are other undercover guards masquerading as house staff, so that if anything happens there is always backup.”

I am shocked. I didn’t realise they were keeping such a close eye on me. It makes sense, though, with all the trouble I have supposedly caused.

“So getting from my room to the escape tunnel is going to be complicated.”

“I would say so, Ma’am. I think it would be easier to extricate you from Matron House if you were still you. Put the disguise on after you’re in the tunnel.”

That means I would have to do it myself, but if it makes things easier then that’s how it has to be. “Okay, thanks. I will tell Margie and get back to you as soon as everything is concrete.”

“Yes, Ma’am. Just let me know when.”

Chapter 11

Arriving at work, I double-check I have everything I need before exiting the cart. Red gives me a quick look in the rearview mirror, looking for the signal that today is definitely a go. I swipe my tongue over my top lip—the agreed signal—and he nods in confirmation. Adrenaline courses through my veins at the knowledge that this is finally happening.

Walking into the office, I say good morning to April then give her the go-ahead signal, too. She responds with a quick wave in confirmation.

I am too nervous to work, so I sit at my desk and watch the minutes tick by until 8:30. When the little hand finally hits the six, I grab the pill April procured for me and down it quickly. She said it was fast working, but I’m still shocked when barely five minutes after taking it I have to grab my rubbish bin to stop from vomiting all over my desk.

As arranged, April appears in my office. “Are you all right?”

We play the script out exactly as planned. “No, I’m not feeling well.”

“Would you like me to call the doctor for you?”

I nod as another round of heaving starts. Fifteen minutes later, the doctor shows up at my office and I’m a mess. In the time it has taken for him to arrive, I have thrown up another two times and am feeling like utter crap.

As I sit wallowing in my chair, I briefly curse myself for ever having agreed to do this in the first place. I just hope it’s worth it.

Once the doctor prescribes some antinausea medication, Red is instructed to take me home. As soon as I’m in the cart, I grab the container with the antidote in it and down the pill. Once again, the effects are almost instantaneous. By the time we reach Matron House I’m feeling almost like my old self.

Red leads me inside, holding me up as I continue to play the part of being ill.

“Oh my!” Belinda gasps as she greets us at the door. “Is she okay?”

“The doctor believes she has food poisoning,” Red informs her. “He wants her to get plenty of rest, and she is not to be disturbed.”

“Oh dear. Is there anything I can do?”

“The doctor suspects it had to be her breakfast that caused it, so you should probably work with the kitchen staff to give everything a thorough cleaning.” The look of horror on Belinda’s face means our lie has the desired effect and that most of the staff will now be busy for the afternoon going over the kitchen.

Heading up to my room, my lips form a smile when I’m finally inside and Margie is there waiting.

“I take it by the look on your face everything went well this morning?”

“It did indeed, though you and I both know this morning was the easy part.”

Margie shows me the bag with all the items I need for my disguise.

“So you have a wig, glasses, and makeup.” I move to the wardrobe to change my clothes while she speaks. “There’s also a mirror so you can make sure everything looks all right. You’ll change your appearance once you’re in the cart. Mum will be there to help you.”

I replace my work clothes with cargo pants and a sweater. I’m amazed at how much younger I look in casual clothes.

Happy that I’m all ready to go, I turn and face Margie, who has a giant smile on her face.

“You are going to get in easy,” she says with a lot more confidence than I feel.

A knock on the door interrupts the moment. “Come in.”

Red enters, a look of concern on his face.

“Everything okay?” I ask.

He nods. “I believe so, Ma’am.”

“Well, let’s go, then.”

“Okay, let me just check that the halls are clear one last time, then I will come and collect you.”

As I wait for him to return, nerves start to creep up on me. Unable to stand still, I pace the room, trying to work off the excess adrenaline. I am extremely happy that I only have to wait a few minutes before Red returns.

After saying goodbye to Margie, we move quickly down the stairs to the basement, a place I didn’t even know existed until this plan was formed.

“Okay, Ma’am. Once you go through this door,” he says, pointing to a red door on the far wall, “you will be on your own. It will take about fifteen minutes to reach the other end of the tunnel. When you reach the end, there should be someone waiting to take you to the cart you’ll use to travel to the prison. Make sure you give them the code word and that they respond appropriately before you go with them.” I nod, letting him know I understand what I need to do. “Good luck, Ma’am.”

Without any further words, Red turns and leaves. I am on my own.

I start the stopwatch that is set for fifteen minutes, turn my torch on, and enter the passageway. As the door slams shut behind me, the reality of how dark and cramped the tunnel is hits me. After a brief moment of panic I move, knowing the longer I stand still the more chance there is of things going wrong—and me getting caught.

I swear I’ve been in this dark, dingy tunnel for more than fifteen minutes, but the alarm hasn’t gone off yet so I can’t have been. I am about to take a break when a sliver of light catches my attention. Barely a second later, the alarm on the watch sounds, making me jump out of my skin. I sprint the rest of the way towards the light and am glad when the exit finally comes into view.

Stepping out into the light, I am greeted by a young man.

“Hello, Ma’am.”

“Hi,” I respond. “Nice day for a little clandestine fun.”

“I’m no tattletale, Ma’am.”

With passwords exchanged, I know I’m safe.

“Are you ready to go?” he asks.

“Lead the way.”

The young man takes me to a cart hidden a short walk away.

The back door opens and Rhonda sticks her head out. As I climb inside, she takes my backpack and starts pulling everything out.

“Come on, let’s get you transformed.”

Fifteen minutes later, I look in the mirror and don’t even recognise the person staring back at me. My blond hair is hidden under a deep brown wig, which is also a lot longer than my normal hair, coming almost down to my waist. My blue eyes are behind glasses; the accompanying dark makeup and cherry red lips leave me looking completely different. I doubt even my own mother would recognise me.

“What do you think?”

“Thank you so much.” I throw my arms around her and hug her tightly.

“You’re welcome, dear.” She opens the door on her side.

“You’re not coming with me?”

“Nope, too risky. They might see me.”

She hops out, the door closing with a thud. The cart starts to move—I am finally on my way to the prison.

I spend the next few minutes looking at my hands in my lap and contemplating what I am going to say to Howard. For something that I have been anticipating for weeks, I am suddenly very nervous.

I am insanely grateful that the ride to the prison isn’t long. I suspect if I’d had enough time to mull things over, my nerves would have got the better of me and I would have changed my mind. As we pull through the prison gates, my nerves ease a little knowing another hurdle in the plan has been overcome.

After parking the cart, we join the queue of visitors waiting to enter the prison. The young man who drove me, whose name I have discovered is William, is also going to visit someone, so he stands behind me in the line.

The line moves quickly, and soon I am undergoing security checks. I’m patted down to make sure I’m not carrying any weapons and my ID is checked. After stepping through a metal detector, I am officially inside.

We are led to a holding area, where we’re told to wait until our name is called. After a few minutes, a guard starts calling names. When he asks for Barbara May Wilcox, I almost forget that he is talking to me. He says the name three times before I acknowledge it.

I am led to a booth and told I have half an hour. He leaves so I take a seat in front of the glass and wait.

When the door on the other side opens and Howard walks in, I can’t stop the smile that appears on my face. He is more handsome than I remember, though he’s a little rough around the edges, like he could do with a haircut and a long hot bath. But I suspect prison probably does that to a person.

He takes his seat and lifts the handset that allows us to speak to each other. I do the same.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Howard.”

“Do I know you?” he asks. “You look sort of familiar, but I can’t place the name.”

Removing my glasses, I say, “We may have taken a bike ride once.”

He still looks puzzled, but after a few seconds his eyes light up with recognition. I am extremely glad he appears happy to see me.

“How have you been?” he asks.

“Well . . . work has been hard, but I’m surviving.” He nods in understanding. “How about you?”

“Not so good.” The miserable look on his face and the dejected tone of voice have me worried. “I’m sorry I haven’t written back after your last letter. I’ve been in the infirmary.”

“What happened?” I can feel the tears welling.

“It was nothing, just a disagreement between me and a guard. But I’m okay now, especially getting to see you.”

It catches me by surprise that one of the staff members hurt him. I want to smile and let him know that everything is okay but I can’t. All I feel is a deep-seated guilt that everything is my fault.

“What is with that look on your face?”

“I’m sorry,” I say as the tears finally fall.

“Now, now,” he says in a soothing tone. “Don’t go shedding tears over me. None of this is your fault. It’s prison, people get hurt. There’s nothing that can be done to stop it.”

I understand that prison is a hard place, but seeing the evidence firsthand is still shocking. It takes me a minute to calm down, but eventually I do.

“So other than the obvious, how are things?”

“All right. I get three meals a day, and I’m not slaving away at the power plant, so prison has its upsides.” His chuckle sounds forced, but I welcome his effort. “I receive letters from this lovely lady who always brings a smile to my face.”

Hearing how happy my letters make him, I am suddenly guilt-ridden. “I’m sorry it took me so long to read your initial letter. I was in a bad place after your trial.”

“You don’t have to keep apologising. I can’t imagine how awful it would have been to hear my words and not realise they were lies. I should have let my sister explain things to you and it never would have happened.”

“No! As hard as it was, hearing the truth from you was better. Even if it was only a letter. I have to ask you one thing, though. Why did you do it? Why did you lie to me about who you were?”

He looks down at his hands clasped together on the table. When he glances up again, his gaze is beyond apologetic. “Probably a couple of reasons, but mainly . . . I was selfish. Every moment I spent observing you only endeared you to me more. When I saw the opportunity to spend some time with you, I took it. I knew if I’d told you who I really was, I’d never have gotten a chance to talk to you, let alone anything else.” He runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up. It’s a good look on him. “Given the chance to do it all again, I wouldn’t change a thing. You were everything I hoped you’d be and more, and I’m not sorry I got to spend some time with you. Not even a little.”

My heart skips a beat, and I suddenly wish we weren’t separated by glass. I want nothing more than to touch him, to be certain that he is real. “I feel the same.”

He smiles. “I’m glad.”

We sit staring at each other for a few minutes, absorbing the other’s presence.

Howard is the first to break the silence. “You said work has been hard. I hope no one is hurting you.” I see the concern in his eyes and want to reassure him.

“No, nothing like that. It is just nothing like I thought it would be. All the real work is done by others.”

“I would like to say ‘I told you so,’ but I won’t. Your employers are very deceptive and keep the truth from everyone, not just you.”

“Yeah, I never would have believed you if I hadn’t seen it for myself. I met this woman who is pregnant and is going to lose her baby because she conceived via fornication. I find myself wanting to do something, but I don’t know what. I was appalled when Red told me what happens to the babies.”

“Yeah, it’s terrible. That’s why my second-in-command had to flee the city. Mark got his girlfriend pregnant. When her sister discovered she was pregnant, and how it had happened, she reported them to the police. Mark was devastated. He knew if the authorities found out he was the father, they would arrest him and charge him with far more than fornication.”

“It is so awful. I never knew things were like this. I would have left MITI years ago if I’d known this was where I would end up.”

“You can’t regret your past, Be— beautiful. It has made you the woman you are.” I hold in my chuckle at his almost slip of the tongue.

“Yeah, I know. I just wish I had the ability to change things.”

“You will, I promise you. When the time comes, there will be plenty for you to do, if that’s what you wish.”