God's Crusade

Part Thirty-Seven

The Second Front

July 2041

Madison Nixon stayed very close to her dear mother, as instructed, well aware that Miss Robinson would be watching her every move. Nothing less than perfection would ever do for her. Every move, every billow of her cloak, had to be elegant and controlled, to give the ever-present media what they wanted, which seemed to be more and more pictures of her personal nightmare. Not that anyone else knew it was a nightmare. Madison was the poster girl for American Reformism, the archetypal maiden, and her veiled face seemed to be everywhere from the daily news programs to the cover of American Vogue magazine. Not her voice, of course. No one had ever heard her voice. Her mother, Candice Nixon, did the talking for the women of the family in support of her husband, if such a thing was ever needed, and not even Miss Robinson dared to defy Candice, on her father's instructions. Madison and her mother had never been close; she had always been a Daddy's girl as a child, and nothing much had changed there. But her mother was only a Reformist wife for the cameras. Shapleigh Nixon let her control things behind the scenes, just as he had always done, and Miss Robinson reported to her. Unfortunately for Madison, the two women largely agreed on her routine.

That morning they were visiting a convent, the very first Reformist convent to open outside of Florida, where the original American Reformist community was growing rapidly in the sunshine. The New Hampshire convent was training volunteer Sisters to work, for free, in the local hospitals and schools. Her mother was walking with the Mother Superior, talking quietly about the training the Sisters were receiving in preparation for their deployment, and Madison followed in their wake. It was all a show for the television cameras, of course. Mr Forbes, her father's British press officer, had everything choreographed, and Madison knew that the pictures of the graceful, demure Sisters serving God by helping the people would play well with the people watching at home. Her father was promising a free hospital, serving everyone regardless of their insurance. Healthcare had always been a thorny political football in the states. Shap Nixon was calling on the faithful to follow the British blueprint of a national health service, rendered economical by young people doing national service, and in his latest speech he had announced with glee that over ten thousand Christian girls wanted to take their vows.

"Can you blame them? Not only is this programme the only way to provide each and every person in this country with access to a decent healthcare system, but these girls are running away from lives that offer them nothing but hunger, poverty and poor housing conditions. In the service of their nation, they will do great good, and learn new skills, in God's love, and when they have completed their service we will make sure they have the good life they deserve to enjoy." Shap Nixon had said, his passion for the cause obvious to everyone who saw the sound bites on the news.

But Madison doubted if everything was as it seemed, because it was not for her. She had started to look on her six months in England as a pleasant interlude. Miss Robinson was nothing like the other guardians she had met, because she seemed to delight in torturing her as much as possible. Not to teach her a lesson, like Miss Dexter or Miss Derbyshire, but because she enjoyed it, and any little excuse would do. Madison and Mrs Forbes, Miss Robinson's regular victim, suffered terribly for their many perceived sins, and her own parents encouraged it, as if the devil needed to be beaten out of her, in God's love.

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Miss Carpenter escorted her reluctant charges into the drawing room, having removed their travelling cloaks out in the hall, and settled them both on the long sofa. She did not remove their blinding mantles or turn off their lessons, because she did not want to give them any chance to relax in familiar surroundings. Having stayed on at Broomwaters for longer than originally intended, the new guardian had made significant progress with both Mrs Sullivan and her daughter, but she was aware that bringing them home could easily disrupt things. She needed to impress on them that it made no difference where they were. Mr Sullivan popped his head around the door and Miss Carpenter offered him a polite obeisance. He nodded back but did not interfere. He had his orders too, and so far he had not made any real attempt to disobey them, apart from one appeal to her better nature.