Christmas in Canberra

by Nicole Taylor

  “Oh,” said Kate blandly. “So, what did you study?”

  “Law,” said Simon.

  “Are you a solicitor now?”

  Simon laughed. “No. I’m at Social Security. Like most of the lawyers in Canberra, I ended up in the public service, reading legislation and trying to figure out what it means.”

  “Do you like it?” Kate wouldn’t let him get a question in. Louise found it quite entertaining to watch her get the better of Simon.

  “Yes, I do!” Simon laughed at himself. “I know it’s not cool to like working in the public service.”

  “Why not?” asked Kate bluntly.

  “Well, you know, everyone makes fun of the public service.”

  “Only because they can’t pass the exam to get into it,” said Kate drily.

  Simon was interested in this perspective and sat forward in his chair. “You know – that’s what I think, too. But I’m so busy defending myself for working for a government department that I never get the chance to say so!”

  Kim asked Kate “Are you in the public service too?”

  “No,” answered Kate. “Are you?”

  “Yes. I work with Simon. That’s how we met.”

  Margot raised her eyebrows at Louise, who nodded. They excused themselves and went into the kitchen to see if dinner was ready. “Kate is marvelous, Lou!” Margot whispered to Louise when they were along in the kitchen. “I’d like to see Kim try to give us lessons on being as classy as a Melbournian with Kate here!”

  Louise silently agreed. “Okay, everyone,” she said. “Take your places. Remember – you have to sit “boy-girl-boy-girl”!”

  “And how do you propose we manage that, Louise?” Rachel pretended to be upset. “You’ve only invited one bloke!”

  “Don’t worry, girls,” Simon reassured them. “There is enough of me to go round.” He glanced at Kate who ignored him and his comment with her usual serenity.

  But it was Kate who started the dinner table conversation. “Lulu, why don’t you – and you too, Margot -come to the Hall B & S tomorrow night?” she asked.

  “The what?” Louise.

  “The Bachelors and Spinsters Ball. I’m on the committee.”

  “Yes, Lulu – why don’t you?” Rachel agreed. “I forgot all about it, otherwise I would have mentioned it earlier. “It’s great fun – you should come.”

  “I’ve never even heard of it.” Louise was curious. “Is it a new event?”

  “Oh God no,” said Simon, thrilled to be on the same page as Kate. “Bachelor and Spinsters Balls are a country life phenomenon all over Australia. When I was a student, we would get the train to whatever county town was hosting the next one, get completely smashed, get back on the train and come home. We didn’t even take luggage – just wore the same dinner suit there and back! And you buy your ticket for the meal and drinks in advance so you don’t even need to take money with you. It’s a student’s dream.

  “But what do you wear to them? The girls, I mean. If the guys are wearing dinner suits, do the women have to wear a formal gown?” Louise was becoming interested.

  “In Melbourne, everyone wears black after five,” Kim informed them knowingly. “You can always tell who is originally from Melbourne when you go out in Canberra. They are always wearing black. It is so classy.”

  “Wearing black in Melbourne is a Greek peasant thing,” said Kate matter-of-factly. “Outside Athens, Melbourne has the highest Greek population in the world, and it is their custom to wear black after they get married – usually at age 15.” Louise and Margot tried to choke back their laughter as they watched Kim’s face freeze. “But it is lazy and boring to wear black to a ball. A ball is supposed to be colourful, that’s why balls are held in the Spring and women wear corsages. The women are supposed to light up the room – not look like a group of Greek widows.” And she sipped her wine as though the matter was settled.

  To her credit, Kim was not put out by Kate’s pronouncements. It was quite clear that Kate didn’t care whether anyone agreed with her or not. She was stating plain facts plainly. To argue with her would simply expose your own bias but it wouldn’t change the facts. Kim was fascinated. She leant forward in her chair and asked “So Kate, how did you get to be on the committee of the Hall B & S?”

  “Well, I was on the committee last year and no one else wanted to take over, so I’m doing it again. We raise money for the Country Volunteer Fire Brigade.”

  Once again, Kate had answered the question without telling Kim what she really wanted to know. Louise wondered how long Kim could last without “pegging” Kate. She wasn’t in the public service, so no information could be gotten from her “level”; Kim wasn’t from Canberra and didn’t know that Hall was the tiny, very elite country town to the north of Canberra – almost a suburb of the capital, really; and home to many professionals who preferred to live on acreages rather than in suburban homes. It was the domain of the gentleman farmer; men who liked to drive tractors on the weekends but in fact were of independent means, and in no way reliant on the price of wool or wheat for their lifestyle.

  But Kim was not out yet. Suddenly the penny dropped. “So – you two still live at home, do you?”

  “Yes,” answered Rachel. “The place is so enormous that we have our own space, and Kate couldn’t leave her horses. Hall is so handy to town, too – so why leave?”

  The mere mention of horses told Kim everything she needed to know. She dropped her plans to interrogate Kate further and turned to Louise with a smile. “That was delicious, Lou. What’s for dessert?”

  Louise almost felt sorry for Kim, whom she quite liked normally, so she was glad to help her change the subject. “Thanks – I take that as a great compliment coming from you.” Louise turned to Kate and Rachel and explained “Kim is a fabulous cook.” She gathered up the plates and answered Kim. “Strawberries Romanoff coming right up!”

  “You mean the usual, don’t you Louise?” Rachel teased her. “I thought we would be having strawberries so we brought a sticky to have with them.” And she produced a half bottle of Porphyry dessert wine from her shoulder bag.”

  “What did you call this?” Simon took the bottle and examined the label.

  “A sticky. What do you call it?” Rachel asked.

  “Don’t forget that there’s brandy on the strawberries,” Louise set the desserts in front of each of them. “I’ll get some little glasses for the Porphyry – thanks, Rachel.” Louise sat down after handing around the extra glasses. “And thank-you, everyone, for coming tonight. And yes, Kate – I would love to come to the B & S.”

  “Me, too,” said Margot.

  “Good,” Kate smiled.

  “I’m re-directing my life from this point,” continued Louise, “and disassociating myself from my family as much as possible.”

  “Oh, thank God,” exclaimed Simon.

  “Simon – I thought you liked my family!” Louise was amused at his outburst.

  “No, you are quite wrong,” said Simon. “I don’t like the men in your family at all.”

  “Well, in that case, thank you for suffering them for my sake over the years.”

  “You might have noticed that I have avoided them whenever possible, Louise.” Simon was taking a leaf out of Kate’s book and speaking plainly.

  “Well, I’m going to avoid all of them.”

  “Even Marie?” asked Simon.

  “Possibly not Marie – but I will be seeing less of her, since she spends so much time with Mum and Dad, and Jane and her kids. It will depend. I don’t mind James, either, but we have so little in common. I’ll still do his tax return, so I’ll see him then.”

  “What brought this on?” Simon wanted to hear all the details.

  “Well,” said Louise, “it’s a long story but I need to hang out with people I have more in common with, I think. People my age who don’t have families of their own yet.”

  “What about Christmas?” Kim asked.

  Louise took a breath
. “I am definitely not spending Christmas with my family.”

  “Really?” Margot was shocked. “What are you going to do?”

  “I’ll go away if I have to – visit a relative interstate or something.”

  “Come to our place,” said Simon. “We are staying at home this Christmas and inviting friends over for a big lunch.”

  “Everyone is going to bring something and we are having a Phantom Santa gift arrangement, where you put everyone’s name into a hat and then each person buys one gift for the person whose name they pull out.”

  “What a good idea!” said Louise.

  “I wish my family did that,” said Margot. “It was hard enough when there were just the original 9 kids – but now that there are partners, too, and nieces and nephews, I have to spend a small fortune and I never know what to get everyone.”

  “I’d love to join you, thanks Simon.” Louise was relieved. “Hey – this might be easier than I thought it would be.”

  “It’s their loss,” said Simon. “Serves them right, though. Your family have been treating you like shit for ages.”

  “Have they?” Louise was surprised by Simon’s comments.

  “They’ll miss you, Lou,” said Margot. “It won’t be long before the phone is ringing.”

  Louise shook her head. “You know what, it is such a long time since any of my family ever called me, I doubt they even know my number.”

  “Count your blessings!” Simon laughed and offered a toast. “I’d be getting a silent number if I was you – just in case!” He chuckled and raised his glass. “Here’s to Christmas in Canberra, 1988!”

  Everyone clinked glasses and said “To Christmas!”

  *

  “Louise!” Louise couldn’t tell whether Rachel was actually cross, or just doing a really good imitation of annoyance. “You didn’t tell me that you and Margot were dressing up! I would have done it, too!”

  Margot had driven them to the B & S, which was held at the Hall fairground in a specially erected marquis. A large dance floor had been built in one corner and a stage for the band. The rest of the marquis was set out with tables, and bars had been set up along two sides. One of these bars served beer exclusively and had drawn a large portion of the male population.

  “Sorry, Rach – it was very last minute! I knew you would want to be part of it, though, so I brought you something.” And she produced a handful of Black fuzz from a small paper bag.

  Since neither of them owned any formal wear, Margot and Louise had improvised. They were dressed as “cowgirls” in short, fringed suede skirts; checkered shirts with the sleeves rolled up and tied in a knot at the waist; ten-gallon-hats; and calf length, high-heeled boots. Louise now gave Margot – and Rachel – a big, Black handle-bar moustache. She peeled off the paper at the back of hers and adhered it to her upper lip.

  “Louise!” Rachel shrieked. “That looks terrible! It’s fabulous!” She laughed loudly.

  Margot was laughing, too. Neither she nor Rachel was sure about the moustache, but decided to give it a go. “You can always take it off and throw it away,” said Louise. “I’m leaving mine on, though.”

  “Hey!” A young man accosted the girls as they made their way through the crowd. “Come back!” He peered closely at them when they stopped to look at him. “I’ve never kissed a girl with a moustache before.”

  “Me, neither,” said his friend.

  “First you need to get some practice kissing girls.” Louise advised them. “These things require an expert. No unlicenced handling.”

  The larger group of men let their friends know that they had been “owned” by the girls, who continued to make their way across the room.

  They found Kate, who was wearing a sheath dress with spaghetti straps in a soft, dull gold which perfectly matched the colour of her hair.

  “Hi, Kate,” said Louise. “Love your dress.”

  Kate smiled. “You look ridiculous.” She looked Louise up and down. “Good legs, though.”

  Louise tipped her hat. “Thank you, ma’am.”

  “What a turnout!” Margot commented. “Were you expecting this many?”

  “We sold all the tickets, but that doesn’t always mean everyone comes,” said Kate.

  “But once you’ve sold the tickets, you’ve made your money, haven’t you?” asked Margot.

  “Yes, for that year. But if no one shows up, or not enough people come to make a good night of it, no one will want to come the next year, so you lose in the long run. You really have to sell the tickets and get everyone to come and make sure they have a good time so that they will come back next year; or at least rave about it so others will want to come.”

  “It looks as though you’ve done well. Congratulations,” Margo was complimentary.

  Kate nodded and almost smiled. “Let me introduce you to some people.”

  It seemed that Kate knew every single person there, and had gone to some trouble to identify various men the girls might find interesting. She produced Bob the radiographer, who was tall and gangly but handsome in a cookies-and-milk way. He engaged Margot in conversation as soon as he had gotten her a drink; and Aidan the accountant who, after recovering from the fact that Louise not only worked for the enemy, but was proud to do so, decided that she might be worth his attention regardless of her lapse in professional judgement.

  Aidan was easily the most attractive single man in her age group at the B & S, Louise thought. He was of average height, with dark, wavy hair, even features and deep set green eyes. Physically he gave the appearance of strength without bulk. He was a dapper dresser and had acquired a look which suited him, resulting as it did from attention to detail.

  “I suppose,” he admitted grudgingly, “if it weren’t for the Tax Office, we public accountants wouldn’t make anywhere near as much money.”

  “And if it weren’t for taxes,” replied Louise tartly, “we wouldn’t have our public hospitals, public schools, universities, roads, airports, armies – we wouldn’t even have decent sewage systems!”

  Aidan blinked. “I – I suppose you’re right,” he said meekly.

  “Bloody oath I’m right.” Louise said, in her best Princess Anne accent. She smiled at Aidan and decided not to fight with him. “So, enough about me. What sort of car do you drive?”

  Aidan laughed. “That’s a new one! Women normally start off with ‘What do you do for a living?’ or ‘Where did you go to school?’” Then, in a more serious tone, he answered her question. “I just bought a Volvo. I drove an old Toyota for years – since uni; but now I’ve lashed out and bought a decent car.”

  “I know,” admitted Louise. “I only asked because Kate mentioned that you were in post-car-purchase-afterglow.”

  “Oh,” Aidan looked disappointed. “I thought you might have been trying to find out whether you would let me take you out; and the car was a deal breaker.”

  “Live and dream, Aidan,” laughed Louise. “If it was that easy, every guy would buy a nice car.”

  Aidan tapped her on the shoulder and pointed out to the parking lot which was clearly visible from where they stood under the open marquis. Hundreds of gleaming cars paid testimony to the beliefs of his gender.

  “Okay, so I missed that,” Louise laughed at herself. “I guess guys do buy nice cars to impress girls.”

  “It works, too.”

  “Why do you think that is? Girls don’t actually care about cars at all. Most girls buy an economical car in a nice colour that is easy to park.”

  “Yes, but they would be pretty suspicious of a bloke who did that.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, think about it. The car a man drives tells you a lot about him, and women are expert at reading this information. For instance, what do you think when you see an old, rusty ute?”

  “Well,” said Louise thoughtfully, “I think the driver is either young and poor, old and poor, or a poverty stricken farmer.”

  “Exactly!” Aidan was triumpha
nt.

  “Aagh – you’re right!” Louise was surprised at this insight. “Okay – give me another one.”

  “Right.” Aidan was enjoying himself. “Two-year-old Holden.”

  “Sedan?”

  “Yes, sedan.”

  “If it is white, I think it is a government employee’s work vehicle. If it is another colour, I think it is a family car, or second car.”

  “And where does this family live?”

  “Belconnen or Tuggeranong – oh, I see!” Louise nodded her head. “So, now I know that a new Volvo means yuppy accountant with country property.”

  “Something like that.” Aidan was quite pleased with her analysis. “So, what is your dream car, Louise?”

  “I don’t dream about cars at all,” she said. “But I’m perfectly happy with my Renault 12.”

  “Oh!” Aidan was impressed. “What year?”

  “Old, but it’s in beautiful condition, and still has the original caramel leather seats with the pinhole pattern. I had it re-sprayed in the original Alpine White, so it looks pretty good.”

  “An intelligent girl who appreciates fine automobiles,” said Aidan. “My goodness.”

  “My father loves old cars,” Louise explained.

  “So, what does Daddy drive?”

  Louise laughed. “He drives a Mercedes Benz –”

  “So, Daddy is a doctor –”

  “- which was a year old when he bought it, ten years ago.”

  “Not a doctor. A public servant. Foreign Affairs?”

  “Treasury.”

  “Treasury!” Aidan was interested. “Another accountant?”

  “No, he studied economics actually.”

  “A.N.U.?”

  “No, University of Queensland.”

  “Still top drawer.” Aidan spoke confidently. “Are your family from Brisbane?”

  “Yes, originally.”

  “And your father moved here after uni to work at Treasury.”