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Chapter 21 the land of the rising sun, part three
Alice had realised her dream of going to England to visit her mother's family. Her body had finally regained its strength but her mind was still fragile and erratic like a butterfly.
Although by no means a weak woman when Alice's grandmother, uncle, aunt and cousins took her to see the rose garden dedicated to her mother, Ida Penrose, it was simply too much to shoulder the grief and pain anymore. Her aunt Josephine sent a telegram informing us Alice would be returning prematurely following a..."BREAK DOWN OF MENTAL STABILITY NOT UNCOMMON IN THE FAIRER SEX. YOU MUST UNDERSTAND THINGS ARE VERY DIFFERENT HERE IN ENGLAND THAN IT IS IN AUSTRALIA. WE MUST CONSIDER OUR REPUTATION AND STANDING. SINCERELY JOSEPHINE."
Master Penrose crumpled up the paper and threw it in the fire, muttering darkly about prudes and how they never approved of him anyway. He turned to me, his head looking as if it was weighted heavily on his neck, "Bernadette, put the kettle on would you?" I got up from my perch not having the heart to tell him I didn't work here anymore.
Yet a another Mistress I had failed. But it was more than that. I knew that girl, had raised her and watched her turn into a woman. Alice had once been a raging fire but now all that was left was cinders and ash. When she did flare up it was usually expressed in uncontrollable anger. The nurses had no choice but to drug her. I was her only visitor; Hartley's and Master Penrose's souls couldn't take it. She'd been at the facility for over a year.
She stared dispassionately at the biscuits I had made for her. I ignored the nurses ugly stares. "How was your day?" Alice merely shrugged. "Are they feeding you right? You look terribly thin, my girl." Again Alice made a meaningless, listless gesture. Suddenly all my lives miseries came flooding back to me. I cry on Alice's lap. A cold limp hand rests on my tight curly hair. "There...there." Alice stares without emotion strait ahead. I can only weep harder, disregarding the spitting comments from the annoyed nurses.
Although by no means a weak woman when Alice's grandmother, uncle, aunt and cousins took her to see the rose garden dedicated to her mother, Ida Penrose, it was simply too much to shoulder the grief and pain anymore. Her aunt Josephine sent a telegram informing us Alice would be returning prematurely following a..."BREAK DOWN OF MENTAL STABILITY NOT UNCOMMON IN THE FAIRER SEX. YOU MUST UNDERSTAND THINGS ARE VERY DIFFERENT HERE IN ENGLAND THAN IT IS IN AUSTRALIA. WE MUST CONSIDER OUR REPUTATION AND STANDING. SINCERELY JOSEPHINE."
Master Penrose crumpled up the paper and threw it in the fire, muttering darkly about prudes and how they never approved of him anyway. He turned to me, his head looking as if it was weighted heavily on his neck, "Bernadette, put the kettle on would you?" I got up from my perch not having the heart to tell him I didn't work here anymore.
Yet a another Mistress I had failed. But it was more than that. I knew that girl, had raised her and watched her turn into a woman. Alice had once been a raging fire but now all that was left was cinders and ash. When she did flare up it was usually expressed in uncontrollable anger. The nurses had no choice but to drug her. I was her only visitor; Hartley's and Master Penrose's souls couldn't take it. She'd been at the facility for over a year.
She stared dispassionately at the biscuits I had made for her. I ignored the nurses ugly stares. "How was your day?" Alice merely shrugged. "Are they feeding you right? You look terribly thin, my girl." Again Alice made a meaningless, listless gesture. Suddenly all my lives miseries came flooding back to me. I cry on Alice's lap. A cold limp hand rests on my tight curly hair. "There...there." Alice stares without emotion strait ahead. I can only weep harder, disregarding the spitting comments from the annoyed nurses.
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