Jessica (25 page)

Why could it not have been Jessie waiting for me? he thinks. Jack Thomas knows he does not love Jessica less for having spent the night with Meg, nor does he mean to castigate himself for his unfaithfulness. He tells himself he must first return from the war before he can claim his sweet Jessica and be true to her forever. Meg has said it will be their secret, that nobody will ever know. As Jack heads for home in the quickening light, this thought proves a balm for a conscience where the one-eyed snake is king. Hester was right.

Later the same morning, though this time closer to the noon hour, Meg sees Hester's pony trap approaching the house on her return from old Mrs Baker's sickbed. She drops her crocheting and comes running out into the yard to meet her mother.

‘Oh Mama,' she cries, as Hester alights, falling into her mother's arms, ‘it was awful at first and I thought I must surely die of shame, but then it was wonderful!' Meg pushes away and holds Hester at arm's length. ‘I was very, very good.'

Hester smiles, collecting her bags from the trap. ‘Yes, yes, my dear, it is not seemly that you should enjoy yourself, but will you be pregnant? That is the question.'

‘Oh, Mama, it will not be for want of trying,' Meg laughs gaily. ‘I think I shall make a splendid Mrs Jack Thomas of Riverview Station.'

‘Now, now, my dear, there is still much to be done, do not count your chickens before they hatch.'

J
essica's vomiting continues until it can't be ignored, and Joe decides she needs some attention.

Joe and Jessica arrive in Wagga Wagga to see the Heathwood family doctor, an old codger named Nathaniel Merrick who calls a spade a flamin' shovel and is a man who well understands the ways of the bush.

Joe remains on the verandah seated in a wicker chair while Dr Merrick examines Jessica behind a screen in his surgery. After a thorough examination, he allows Jessica to dress while he washes his hands, then goes out and calls Joe into his surgery. The old doctor shows him to a seat in front of a battered-looking desk and then sits behind it in an old captain's chair with a swivel base so that he appears somewhat unstable, rocking from side to side. As if to steady himself, he places his elbows on the surface of the desk and rests his chin on his clasped hands, then leans slightly forward and addresses his attention to Joe.

‘Mr Bergman, your daughter tells me she is not married.'

Joe nods his head. ‘This is true, doctor.'

The doctor unclasps his fingers and leans backwards in the chair, which squeaks in protest. He absently reaches forward and picks up his pen from the desk and places it down again.

‘Well, I have examined your girlie and she is pregnant,' he announces.

Joe stares at the old physician in disbelief. ‘Pregnant? But she's just been a bit crook in the guts, that's all.'

‘Ah, a common enough occurrence with pregnancy, Mr Bergman. She is, I estimate, about two and a half months gone, if I'm not very much mistaken.' He looks up cheerily at Joe. ‘Not enough to disgrace the lass, eh? Though you'll want to contact the family of the young bloke concerned and make the necessary wedding arrangements.' He pauses then adds, ‘Soon as possible, eh? These things are best done sooner than later.'

Dr Merrick notes Joe's look of surprise and leans over and in a conspiratorial voice declares, ‘Come now, these things happen. You may count on my discretion in this matter and, when the time comes, I'll issue a birth certificate with a notice attached to say the child is of premature birth.' He pauses and chuckles. ‘Two months is about the average shortfall in the district.'

Jessica, now fully clothed, has come to stand to one side in front of the examination screen. The doctor seems oblivious of her presence and speaks to Joe as if she's not there. ‘We are, Mr Bergman, famous in this district for hastily rung wedding bells, a tintinnabulation which proves to us once again that the forces of nature are always more powerful than our intellect.' The physician smiles to himself. ‘Any doctor around these parts who mentions the word “shotgun” will, I'll vouch, soon enough find his .practice starved of customers.'

Dr Nathaniel Merrick now hears a sob from behind him and turns, surprised. It is as though he has entirely forgotten Jessica's presence in the room. ‘Oh there you are, Miss Bergman,' he says. ‘Come, come, my dear, it is not such a tragedy. Take my word for it, these things generally have a way of turning out quite splendidly in the end.'

‘Thank you, doctor,' Joe mumbles and rises and stands awkwardly, his big fists holding his money purse.

‘That will be five shillings and sixpence, thank you,' Nathaniel Merrick says crisply.

Joe counts out the silver coins. He has the exact amount, two half-crowns and a sixpenny bit, and places the coins down on the desk.

‘You may have a receipt if you wish, though in these circumstances evidence of a doctor's visit can sometimes prove a botheration. What do you think?' ‘No, it don't matter, doctor.'

‘We'll keep it to ourselves then,' he says, adding kindly, ‘until further notice, eh?'

‘Yes, thank you, sir.' Joe nods to Jessica to follow him. They cross the small room and Joe allows Jessica to leave the surgery. He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, turning back. ‘Are you real sure, Dr Merrick? Are you, I mean, positive, like?'

The old physician removes his eyeglasses and begins to polish them slowly using a clean gauze dressing. He looks up at Joe quizzically. ‘As positive as fifty years of practice in my profession can make me, Joe Bergman. Two and a half months, I'll stand by that.' Joe remains at the door a moment longer and seems to hesitate. Noting Joe's worried expression, the old physician looks sternly at him. ‘Mr Bergman, is there something you haven't told me? Have you and the girl ... ? I think you know what I'm trying to say. Can we expect a normal child?'

‘Right,' Joe says absently, not understanding the implications of the old doctor's question. ‘Right then, doctor, we'll be off.' He closes the door behind him. Jessica is waiting for him outside and follows him to the sulky and climbs up into the seat. Her head is bowed, and she is trying with all her strength not to cry. Without a word or a look to his youngest daughter, Joe climbs aboard, takes the reins and turns the pony for home. They stop briefly at the Oatbank Brewery beside the river on the edge of town where Joe purchases a bottle of brandy. He is not a drinking man normally — two glasses of milk stout of a Sunday with Jack Thomas is about his limit. Feeling her father's shame, and there being nothing she can possibly say that will comfort Joe, Jessica begins to sob.

It is almost four hours before Joe feels able to speak, by which time Jessica has stopped crying. ‘Jessie, who done it to you? Who is the father of your bastard?' Joe tries to keep his voice even but his anger comes through and Jessica draws back as though his words alone have the capacity to harm her. She remains silent, staring miserably out at the flat, remorseless landscape, where the saltbush seems to be dancing in the heat.

‘Jessie, dammit, speak to me. Who put you up the duff?' Jessica shakes her head. ‘I can't say,' she replies quietly, trying not to cry again.

‘Can't say, or won't say? Look at me, girl!' Joe demands.

Jessica does not reply and bites her bottom lip, refusing to look at Joe.

‘Can't or won't? Answer me, will ya!' Joe thunders.

‘Won't, Father,' Jessica says softly, then gives a small involuntary sob.

With the reins in his right hand, Joe suddenly reaches out and grabs her by the throat, very nearly pushing her from the sulky. ‘I'll not take that from you! You tell me now, Jessie!' With his left hand, he pulls Jessica around so that she looks directly at him. His thumb and forefinger are pushing against her windpipe. ‘You tell your father, or I'll thrash you, girl!' Joe stares straight down into Jessica's eyes. They are red-rimmed from weeping, but there's something he's seen in them before — Jessica isn't afraid. He knows she's not going to tell him. His fingers close tighter around her slender neck and he begins to shake her as though the information he needs can be forced from her. He realises that Jessica is going blue, her tongue is protruding from her mouth. She claws frantically at his hand, her eyes filled with terror.

Panting, Joe releases her throat and sees the deep scarlet marks his thumb and finger have made on her neck.

He's gripped her too hard and he is shocked to think he might have killed her. There'll be bruises to show for it, the marks on her throat clear for weeks. Jessica bends over and coughs violently, clasping at her throat with both hands. Then she leans quickly over the moving sulky and vomits.

Joe pulls to a halt and waits for his daughter to recover, getting down from the sulky and bringing her the canvas water bag hanging from the back. ‘Here, drink this,' he says gruffly, the anger gone from his voice.

Jessica rinses her mouth and spits, then takes a sip of water and winces at the pain of swallowing. She hands the water bag back to Joe before wiping her mouth using her pinny, but doesn't once look at her father. Joe is feeling remorse, realising that he's hurt her, but seeing her recovered, his anxiety turns back into fresh anger. ‘You'll tell us or you'll be punished, girl, you understand?' he says roughly. ‘Your mother will not forgive you ever, you hear? She's a proud woman and you've shamed her terribly. She'll make you answer for this!'

Jessica turns to face him. ‘I can't never tell, Father,' she rasps, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joe stands silent, holding the water bag. The doctor's words keep repeating in his head. Two and a half months — exactly the time when Jessica took Billy Simple into Narrandera. Jessica has been fucked by the idiot and now she carries a murderer's child.

Joe clears his throat and looks across the flat land, shimmering in the afternoon heat. Jessica will bring a shame upon the family from which they can never recover. Hester has been right all along, Joe thinks. His youngest daughter is no good, a rotten apple, and now it's too late. She's destroyed them all and no decent family will consider the notion of Meg as a wife for their son and heir. What Jessica's done will haunt them for the rest of their lives. They will be outcast from society. He has been alone before — he knows he can survive. But Hester will be destroyed and so will Meg, their hopes dashed forever. The foreigner's family tainted with his bad blood, that's what they'll think of us, Joe tells himself harshly.

‘It's five hours before we get home. By that time you better have the answer or you'll be sorry.' Joe doesn't shout. His voice is cold and Jessica knows it's his stubbornness against hers, his Bergman will against her own. Joe is going back into his darkness. ‘You'll tell your mother who it was, or I'll take the stockwhip to you and thrash you to within an inch of your life.'

He walks around the back of the sulky, hanging the water bag back on its hook. Then he climbs in and holds the reins loosely, not yet urging the pony on. ‘Jessica, is it ... ?' He cannot bring himself to say Billy Simple's name.

Jessica is silent for a while, then she turns to Joe, her hand clasped to her throat. ‘You can kill me, but I ain't never gunna tell, Father,' she says in a hoarse whisper. When Jessica and Joe arrive home Jessica sits outside while Joe goes in to tell Hester of Jessica's pregnancy. Jessica already knows that she's reached the final point with Hester, that her mother cannot forgive her. She also knows that her mother's anger will be more to do with how her pregnancy affects Meg's chances than with any humiliation it brings on the family.

Joe comes back outside and brings Jessica in to sit at the kitchen table to face her mother.

‘Who is it?' Hester asks in a savage voice. ‘Tell me — or your father will give you a belting you'll never forget.' Jessica does not respond, but stares stubbornly at her boots.

‘Is it that vile creature, Billy Simple?' She does not wait for an answer. ‘Hanging is too good for him and now he has destroyed us as well.'

Jessica does not answer and Hester continues, ‘How could you do this to us? You are possessed by the Devil. You are the Devil's child!' She turns to Joe, seated at the end of the table. ‘Jessica's gone quite mad! She cannot be trusted to live with us. She must receive a whipping and then be banished! She must be put away from decent folk.'

Jessica looks up, frightened. She has expected the whipping, but not that she will be cast out from her family. Surely Joe will not allow this to happen? She looks over to where he sits at the end of the table. But Joe has his head bowed and he has his hands in his lap.

Jessica's heart sinks — Joe has given up on her.

‘Who knows that Jessica is pregnant?' Hester now asks Joe.

‘Only the doctor,' Joe grunts.

‘Can we trust him to keep quiet?' Joe shrugs, not looking up at his wife. ‘He said it were in confidence. You should bloody know, he's your family doctor.'

Hester sighs, and then suddenly bursts into tears. ‘You wicked, wicked girl, how could you do this to us? How can you think to so utterly destroy us?' she wails, her lips spit-flecked. She points at Jessica, stabbing a bony forefinger repeatedly into the air. ‘You whore! You filthy whore!' she screams. Rising from the table she rushes over to Jessica and beats her fists against her shoulders and head. ‘You dirty little slut!'

‘Father! Father!' Jessica howls, pulling her arms over her head to protect her from her mother's flailing blows. But Joe remains silent and Hester stops as abruptly as she has begun. Her daughter has reduced her to using a word which has rarely passed her lips and one she never thought she'd use against either of her daughters. She stands over Jessica, panting, her entire body trembling, and then says slowly, ‘We must be rid of it! The filthy thing. That creature's vile thing inside of you! Kill it!' Jessica starts to cry. ‘Mama, I don't want you to kill it. Please don't kill it!' she sobs.

Meg has stepped into the kitchen, and it is quite apparent that she's been listening all the while at the door. ‘It'll be mad like its father,' she says.

‘You hold your tongue, Meg,' Joe commands.

‘Please, Father. It's mine, don't let them kill my baby,' Jessica sobs, her voice barely above a whisper. She looks up at Joe, pleading. ‘Please, Father?'

Hester leans over Jessica and shouts, ‘You've done enough damage already, you'll do as you're told!'

Joe looks up suddenly and, half rising from his chair, bangs his fist hard down on the table. ‘Silence all of you! Not another word from you lot!' he thunders.