Beryl Fletcher

18

 

The next day Hannalore kept herself busy in the kitchen cleaning the iron pans and the dirty shelves. There was a layer of grey ash and mutton fat covering every surface. She scrubbed down the range with ammonia and brought it back to its original gleam with black-it polish administered with a small paint brush kept in a chipped jam jar specifically for that purpose.   

 

Juno slept until early afternoon. Hannalore hardly spoke a word to Lena and she made sure that she went back into the bedroom on the pretext of checking up on Juno when her father closed the shop and came into the dining room for his lunch.

 

Hannalore’s instinct was to steal quietly away from her father’s house this very moment. She knew that it was only a matter of time before the doctor came to take Juno away. She must make a move as soon as possible even if Juno was still in a state of grief. She had already decided that if Mr Cattermole refused to help them, she must go it alone.

 

After her father had returned to the shop, she tried to persuade Juno to eat a honey sandwich. Juno refused to eat anything. Or drink.

 

Hannalore helped her to dress. The child shivered. Hannalore took off her jumper and wrapped it around Juno’s tiny body.

 

‘You must feed the little baby. It is hungry inside you,’ said Hannalore.

 

Juno stared at Hannalore without blinking. Every so often a sob rose up from the interior of her body. Hannalore found it unnerving to see those fixated eyes huge with unshed tears. It was like staring into a smoky mirror that gave no image back.

 

Hannalore had seen this look before. It had to do with Juno’s inability to cope with the death of animals. Two incidents had profoundly affected her. Abraham had shot Juno’s favourite dog because it had worried a sheep and Augusta had drowned a bag of unwanted kittens in the creek. Augusta had filled the canvas bag with stones to weigh it down and the baby cats had cried out in high mewling voices. Augusta did not realise, or so she later said, that Juno was hiding in the bush spying on her.

 

For weeks after this event, Juno had crept up behind Augusta and mimicked the dying calls of the kittens. Augusta reprimanded Hannalore for not controlling her sister’s behaviour. ‘Do something, or the Good Lord will guide my hand to make it stop.’

 

This was Augusta’s signal that she was about to instigate physical punishment using a leather whip attached to the back of the kitchen door. This whip was especially made for children. It stung but did not cut too deeply into tender flesh.

 

Hannalore instructed Juno to stop tormenting Augusta. All she got was the smoky mirror look. In desperation, Hannalore told her that a feral cat had been seen coming came out of the bush in answer to the distress calls. Perhaps she had rescued the kittens.

 

Juno smiled and clapped her hands and the mewling ceased.

 

Lena came into the dim room. She ordered Hannalore to come with her to the kitchen. She needed a hand with the cooking. There was to be a meeting here in the early evening. ‘Don’t ask me what it’s all about. Your father hasn’t bothered to tell me.’

 

There was something in the tone of her voice that caused Hannalore to wonder if Lena knew more about the meeting than she was prepared to disclose. 

 

Hannalore placed the honey sandwich and the cup of milk close to Juno. She closed the door gently. Lena asked what was bothering Juno. Hannalore said that Juno had a special relationship with animals and hated to see them suffer.

 

‘So Wilfred’s old mare finally kicked the bucket.’

 

Hannalore was mystified. Lena seemed to know what was going on in this town without ever leaving the house.

 

Lena smiled. ‘Jungle drums dear. Or to be correct, my precious party line.’

 

Hannalore had no idea what she was talking about.

 

Lena set up the mixing bowls and wooden spoons and baking trays on the long wooden table. She opened the drawer beneath the table top and complimented Hannalore on the tidy placement of the kitchen implements within.

 

She placed some logs into the firebox of the range. She instructed Hannalore to begin the cooking. The recipes were there in that folder. All handed down from her mother and her mother before her.

 

She sat at the table chain smoking and giving Hannalore blow by blow instructions. Hannalore did not need to read the recipes. She had been cooking since she was ten years old. When Lena instructed her to cream the butter and sugar before adding two beaten eggs to begin making a cake, she insisted that Hannalore bring the bowl to her to be checked before she added the flour and the dried fruit. Once it was mixed to her satisfaction, she watched Hannalore pour the mixture into a baking tin.

 

‘Excellent,’ she said. ‘Now make the pastry for the apple tart. Rub ten lumps of butter the size of a walnut into three cups of flour. Deal with it quickly, a light touch is required. Your father likes his pastry short.’

 

Hannalore did not tell Lena that she was already an expert. She deliberately made a few mistakes in the final recipe; a variety of scones. Lena complained that the date scones were a little too flat. How much baking powder did she put in the mix? Use a little more next time and they will come out lighter. ‘And did you remember to put two pinches of cayenne pepper into the cheese scones? Ah, I thought not.’

 

Say and do what you will, thought Hannalore. But there is not going to be a next time.

 

The day moved towards dusk. Juno had taken in half a cup of milk and a slice of apple pie and had fallen into a deep sleep. Hannalore was greatly relieved. She closed the bedroom door gently.

 

Lena called for her from the kitchen. Her face was flushed and she seemed to be in a good mood. She was drinking something brown out of a large china cup.

 

Mr Cooper came into the kitchen to see how the preparations were going. He inspected the plates of cakes and biscuits. ‘Well done Lena,’ he said. ‘What a splendid spread.’

 

Lena sipped at her drink. ‘Hannalore helped a bit.’

 

‘Glad to hear it.’

 

Lena asked what time the guests would be arriving. Mr Cooper consulted his pocket watch. He hesitated a little, then said, ‘Hannalore, I want you to get Juno prepared for a medical examination. Doctor Graham is arriving before the others for this purpose.’

 

‘But she’s sleeping and should not be woken.’

 

‘This whole business is a nightmare,’ he said. ‘But I’m not blaming you for anything that Juno did.’

 

Lena said, ‘The child is lucky to have a sister like Hannalore. She’s a saint.’

 

‘Nobody wants your opinion,’ said Mr Cooper. ‘Keep your nose out of it.’

 

She drained the contents of her cup. Her hands were shaking. ‘I have a right to say my piece.’

 

‘Stop right there woman, hold your tongue.’

 

‘Eleanor held her tongue and what good did it do?’

 

‘Enough!’ Mr Cooper hit the table with a closed fist. ‘Hannalore, come with me. I’m sorry that you had to hear this.’

 

Hannalore desperately wanted to stay in the kitchen and ask Lena about Eleanor. But her father took her arm and propelled her firmly down the hall and into the parlour.

 

He sat in his usual chair and filled his pipe with tobacco and tamped it down. ‘It’s the drink talking, not her.’

 

Hannalore knew very little about alcohol. The men in the community made beer from fermented barley but the women were forbidden to drink it. She had once seen a drunken man thrown out of the community hall into the frost where he was left all night to sober up. Before dawn broke she had stolen out to cover him with a blanket only to find that someone else had been there before her. It had helped her at the time to know that she was not alone in showing forgiveness for someone who had fallen.    

 

Mr Cooper said that he was grateful to Hannalore for caring for Juno but the time has come when he had to take control of the situation. The baby must be taken away from her.

 

Hannalore said that she was more than willing to care for the child.

 

Her father frowned. ‘Maybe I am not making myself clear. Juno is mentally defective. There are laws being drafted that will make sure that girls like her do not breed. The men that are coming here tonight are part of a group involved in the eugenics movement. They have done me the honour of making me the president of their new society.’

 

An icy stone began to form in Hannalore’s heart. She decided to agree with him no matter what he said. She smiled and nodded. ‘What do you want me to do?’

 

Mr Cooper looked relieved. ‘This is a very delicate situation. Legally I mean. It will make it so much easier for all of us if you are on our side.’

 

Hannalore was not quite sure why her father needed her approval over the treatment of Juno but for the first time in her life, she felt that she had won some sort of victory over a powerful adult.  

 

Mr Cooper said, ‘I am not without compassion for the girl. This is the best outcome for her as well as us.’  

 

Hannalore kept her silence. She did not trust herself to challenge him directly when it came to Juno’s welfare. She was afraid that she might reveal her intention to leave Piopio with Juno in tow as soon as possible.

 

Mr Cooper said, ‘Now run along my dear and sit with Juno until the doctor comes.’    

 

‘Of course,’ said Hannalore. ‘And thank you for being open with me. I understand the situation more clearly now.’

 

She almost ran back to the kitchen. Lena was slumped over the table. Hannalore shook her awake.

 

Lena opened one bleary eye. ‘Oh it’s you again,’ she said.

 

‘You must tell me where my mother is. They are going to kill Juno.’

 

Lena sat up and opened both eyes. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’

 

Hannalore felt the panic rising up into her throat. ‘But Mr Cooper said…’

 

‘You’ve got the wrong end of the stick,’ said Lena. ‘They are going to take the baby out of her but she will be alright.’

 

‘What does eugenics mean?’

 

Lena said that a group of prominent men in the town had set up this discussion group on preserving the health of the population. Girls like Juno would be sterilized so that they did not weaken the race. Abortions took place, not strictly legal but seen as a necessary public health measure.

 

‘Is that what will happen to Juno.’

 

‘Yes.’

 

Hannalore sat down at the table. ‘This will break her apart.’

 

Lena untied her apron and hung it behind the kitchen door. ‘I am going against all my instincts talking to you about such things. I promised not to.’

 

The doorbell at the front of the shop rang.

 

‘Go quickly Hannalore,’ said Lena. ‘I will delay the doctor as long as possible. Slip out the back door. Find Wilfred. Tell him I sent you.’

 

But it was too late. The kitchen door opened and Mr Cooper and Doctor Graham came in.

 

The fresh baking was laid out on a fancy floral platter on the kitchen table. Next to the cakes was a batch of scones covered over with a linen tea towel. The doctor asked if he could taste one. Right now. He couldn’t help himself. Blame Lena, the best cook in the world. ‘When are you going to leave this old rogue and come and work for me?’

 

Lena said nothing. She passed him a fruit scone and a small curl of soft butter on a bone china plate. He devoured it and then asked for a cheese scone. She obliged him again.

 

Mr Cooper said, ‘I don’t want to hurry you Graham but I think that you should do the deed before the others get here.’

 

‘Of course,’ replied the doctor, his mouth full of cheddar and melting butter. 

 

Mr Cooper looked uneasy. ‘Do you need me?’ he asked.

 

The doctor took a snowy white handkerchief from his breast pocket and shook out the folds. He wiped his face and moustache with a ritualistic movement; wipe wipe, flick flick. He asked for a bowl of warm water and a hand towel. For reasons of hygiene you understand. ‘Your presence is not required. However, I will need either Lena or Hannalore to help me restrain the child.’

 

Lena refused point blank. She could not stand the sight of blood. ‘Ask Mr Cooper if you don’t believe me.’

 

They all looked at Hannalore. She agreed to help him. But there were certain conditions. Juno must not feel any pain. Did Doctor Graham have access to chloroform? And the room without windows was too cold and dark to be safe. They would have to move to the parlour where the light was good and the fire crackling with warmth. A clean sheet was required to cover the dining table. Also, some clean towels to place between Juno’s legs if she began to bleed. 

 

Mr Cooper asked Hannalore if she was a nurse. How else would she know these things? Hannalore did not bother to inform him about her work as a healer during the flu epidemic. She was focussing on her plan of escape. The room with no windows was a dead end in more ways than one. The move to the parlour would make it easier for her to get away. But she needed help. It had to be Lena. There was no one else.

 

Mr Cooper looked at his pocket watch. He frowned and said time is marching on. The others will be here soon.

 

The two men left the room.

 

Hannalore waited until she heard the parlour door close before she whispered to Lena, go now, please go now.

 

Lena made a great show of washing and drying the bone china plate. She would not look at Hannalore. ‘How could you fall in with them, how could you?’

 

‘Get Mr Cattermole, tell him to hurry.’

 

Lena said Hannalore should find Wilfred, not her. Mr Cooper would put her out on the street if he thought that she was being disloyal to him. And don’t for one moment think that he would not do it. Look at what happened to Eleanor all those years ago when she challenged him.

 

For a fraction of a second, Hannalore lost her focus. But then she heard Juno running along the hall calling out to her and she opened the kitchen door and Juno flung herself into her arms sobbing and telling an incoherent story. Something about waking up and seeing all the old people standing at the end of her bed and chanting get out get out. And the little baby too it spoke from inside and it sang this song, da da da…

 

Hannalore held onto Juno’s arms. ‘Stop,’ she said. ‘Stop this silly nonsense at once.’

 

And Juno did. She was clearly shocked at the tone of Hannalore’s voice. 

 

Hannalore held onto the child with all her strength. ‘Now listen. We are going to play a game and you must promise me that you will do everything I tell you.’

 

‘I promise,’ said Juno.

 

‘Even if you get frightened?’

 

‘I promise.’

 

Lena said that she’s sorry for jumping to the wrong conclusion about Hannalore changing sides. Is there anything she can do? Apart from running out onto the streets at this time of night like a mad woman, that is.  

 

Hannalore did not bother to answer her. She took Juno’s hand and went into the parlour. Her father had a cheerful blaze going in the fireplace and the doctor had already set up a make-shift examination couch by covering the table with a sheet as requested.

 

Hannalore said, ‘This is the beginning of the game Juno. This is a pretend bed and you have to lie on it just for a little time and close your eyes.’

 

Mr Cooper said with forced cheerfulness that it was time for him to leave. He closed the door behind him with a soft click.

 

The doctor praised Hannalore for her treatment of Juno. ‘Quite remarkable,’ he said. ‘She is putty in your hands.’

 

Hannalore undressed Juno down to her underwear, leaving her camisole and her pink bloomers intact. Juno lay with her eyelids shut, quivering a little, but submitting with grace. Hannalore saw that Juno’s legs had become thinner than ever. There was not an ounce of fat on her stricken body. Her pregnancy was beginning to show. There was something ludicrous about the possibility of a living child taking refuge within such frailty. 

 

Hannalore said, ‘Now Juno, we are going to play the next part of the game. We are going to talk to the little baby and to do this, we need to go inside your stomach.’

 

‘Da da da,’ said Juno.

 

The doctor put on a rubber finger stall and lubricated it with Vaseline. He pulled down Juno’s bloomers and inserted his finger into her vagina. He palpated her abdomen with his other hand.

 

Hannalore held her breath. Juno kept her eyes shut and sang one note that seemed to last for ever, high and fresh and pure.

 

‘Sing,’ said Hannalore. ‘Keep singing little bird.’

 

The doctor frowned. He removed the finger stall and pulled Juno’s bloomers up.

 

Hannalore asked him for the chloroform bottle. Did he have a Skinner mask? Good. In the black bag?

 

The doctor nodded. Quick as a flash Hannalore placed her hand within the bag and seized a bottle and a folded cotton mask. She slipped them into the front pocket of her smock. The doctor was leaning on the mantelpiece. Hannalore advanced so quietly that he did not notice her. But then without turning to face her he told her that unfortunately the operation was off. She’s too far gone. At least five or six months.

 

Hannalore was shocked but relieved. She showed little emotion on her face. The doctor berated her for not noticing the pregnancy sooner. Hannalore apologised. She asked him what would happen to Juno now.

 

He said that she would have to go full term. And she must undergo a hysterectomy as soon as possible after the birth. The hospital at Taumarunui would be the best place for her to go. There was nothing suitable in this district.

 

Juno asked if the game was over now.

 

‘Yes,’ said Hannalore. ‘It wasn’t too bad was it?’

 

Juno opened her eyes. She liked it she said, it’s a good game. She’d done it before. Jimmy had taught her. He pushed something into her and it hurt and he made the hurt go away by rubbing her in a special place. And she liked it. Was the doctor going to do it to her again?

 

Doctor Graham poured himself a large whiskey and gulped it down. He asked Hannalore to make sure that Juno did not speak to anyone about what had happened to her. Nobody would believe her. Who is this Jimmy anyway?   

 

Hannalore dressed Juno and left the doctor to his whiskey.

 

They went back into the kitchen. Juno, cheerful now, ate two pieces of ginger crunch and a date scone washed down with warm creamy milk.

 

Lena said it’s a miracle, a miracle. She kept touching Juno’s hair.

 

Hannalore was in the grip of a rage so deep that she could barely breathe. Blood came up into her head and her skin crawled with a million pinpricks. She had never felt hatred like this before, hatred for Jimmy and for everyone who had aided and abetted his crime. It was becoming increasingly clear to her that Sarah must have known. Otherwise, why had she helped her and Juno to escape?

 

She remembered her father claiming that he would break the jaw of the swine who had taken advantage of Juno if he ever found out who it was. And she remembered that Mr Cattermole had said that he would too.

 

Perhaps they had said this to put her off the track. Who can she trust? Now that Juno has named her tormentor, the doctor will surely pass it on to her father and Mr Cattermole. Lena had been her only ally and even then, she gave conflicting information.

 

‘Leave her hair alone,’ said Hannalore. ‘She does not like being touched.’

 

‘Sorry.’ Lena’s face crumpled.

 

Hannalore immediately regretted speaking harshly to Lena. She had been kind to her and Juno, or at least as kind as her relationship with Mr Cooper allowed her to be.  

 

‘Forgive me,’ said Hannalore. ‘I’m the one who should be sorry.’

 

Lena rolled up a cigarette. She twisted a piece of newsprint and attempted to light it from the hot wood ash in the firebox.

 

‘There are some matches left in the candle holder in the back room,’ said Hannalore.

 

‘Come too?’ asked Juno.

 

Hannalore shook her head. She needed to find a secure hiding place for the two objects hidden in the front pocket of her smock. And quickly. It was only a matter of time before the doctor discovered her theft. She suffered a small twinge of guilt but quickly suppressed it. Stealing had been regarded as sinful in her Christian community especially when perpetuated by a child.

 

She entered the room without windows as quietly as possible. She found a small hole in her kapok mattress and tore it open. She placed the bottle of chloroform and the folded mask inside and replaced the grey blanket over the ticking. She got to the door of the bedroom before she remembered the matches for Lena. There were just four left.

 

She could not bear to think of what could happen to Juno if she was taken to Taumarunui to have her child stolen away and her womb removed. That would the end of Juno’s fragile grip on reality. She would cross the line into madness, locked away, arms tied up in a straight jacket, weeping, wailing, calling for her.

 

Hannalore began to feel safer now that she had a weapon of sorts. A few secret drops of chloroform could render the strongest man unconscious.

 

She heard the scuffle of leather shoes on the hall floor, and low male laughter and the clink of whiskey glasses. The committee had arrived.

 

She went back into the kitchen to find Lena placing the supper things on a wheeled trolley. ‘You must leave right now,’ whispered Lena. ‘They are plotting to send her over to Taumarunui tomorrow. Mr Cooper is afraid that you will go bush with her.’

 

‘Wanna stay here,’ said Juno.

 

‘Ruby wants you to come with me to the stables,’ said Hannalore. ‘To say goodbye.’

 

The lie worked. Juno became docile. ‘Like a little lamb,’ said Lena, popping a piece of shortbread into Juno’s mouth.

 

‘Come now,’ said Hannalore. ‘Time to go.’