Christmas in Canberra

by Nicole Taylor

  But did it suit her? Louise had no idea. It was one thing to match a skirt to a top, but quite another to match a hairstyle to a face with which she was so familiar that she could no longer look at it objectively.

  “My turn to visit Cataldo’s,” she thought. And she smiled.

  Chapter 13

  Just as going to the dentist elicits memories of painful needles and drilling, so going to Cataldo’s salon brought on a rush of scented memories. Louise’s first crush had been Angelo; and Emilio had done her hair for her high school graduation formal. In this salon, she had progressed through the page-boy cut, then the layered look, and on to the short-and-perky Lady Di. Something about the mirrors at Cataldo’s always showed her in a good light, too. So often her reflection caused her to think that her nose was too big, or off-centre; or that her eyebrows were too arched, or wonder if she was developing a double chin. Mirrors could be critical, but not here. Here they showed the twinkle in her eye and sheen on her hair. At Cataldo’s, Louise knew why people sometimes thought she was attractive.

  Emilio had seated Louise after they exchanged hugs, greetings and remonstrations at her hideous hairstyle; clearly not a Cataldo cut. Angelo had arrived while this was going on and added his exclamations of horror – mostly to amuse her and themselves. Louise laughed.

  “Well, you shouldn’t be so popular!” She was trying to feign serious indignation but having too much fun and failing miserably. “Do you know how impossible it is to get to see either of you these days? I’ve had to take the afternoon off work to come here today!”

  Emilio and Angelo paused, looked at each other and shrugged dramatically. “We are the best,” Angelo explained immodestly. “And you – you can get by on your beauty, while other women –“ he shook his head sadly. “There are other women who need us just to be able to hold up their heads, and these women make their next appointment before they leave the salon.” Angelo looked to his brother for confirmation of the truth of his words, and duly received a nod of understanding from Emilio. “This is how the experienced client manages her relationship with Cataldo’s, Louisa.”

  Louise laughed out loud. “Do you two practice this at home?”

  “What?” The two men looked at each other, continuing their little charade.

  “This whole ‘Italian Elvis times 2’ thing you have worked out.”

  “Don’t tease me, Louisa,” Angelo spoke quietly and Louise wasn’t sure whether he was still joking or not. “I’m very susceptible right now.”

  “Oh?” Louise thought she would play it safe.

  “I am having troubles of the heart.”

  “Huh,” replied Louise. “Join the club.” Then she saw that Angelo was not joking. “But I thought you were married?”

  “I was – am – but Linda has taken Joey and gone to her parents.”

  Emilio sighed and shook his head. “Angelo, she will be back in six weeks! Who else will she let trim her hair? Only you have touched her hair since she was 16 years old. She would never –“

  “Then why did she leave me?”

  “Linda moved to Kaleen – not Sydney!” Emilio was attempting to douse Angelo’s misery with common sense. Kaleen was a suburb located about 10 minutes’ drive from the city and the same distance from the various Cataldo family homes in Dickson. “This will blow over,” he predicted.

  Ordinarily Louise would never probe into a personal area such as this, but she could tell Angelo wanted to talk about it. “What happened?” she asked tentatively.

  Angelo sighed and launched into his tale of woe. “You see, we have a beautiful beach house at Malua Bay – right on the water.”

  Emilio corrected him. “The family has a house at Malua Bay.”

  “The family. Yes. It’s the same thing.”

  “Not to Linda.”

  Angelo turned to Louise. “Every Christmas we go there and have a glorious holiday. It is like being at a Mediterranean beach. We lie on the sand, eat shell fish, drink wine, sleep in the afternoon – it is perfect. The house even has a pool overlooking the bay.”

  “It’s very nice,” agreed Emilio. “We have had this house since we were very young. Our uncle built it for us and he owns the house next door.”

  “But now Linda says she doesn’t want to go there anymore!” Angelo is disbelieving as he relates his story. “She wants to go to Noosa!”

  Emilio laughed and nodded. Angelo’s expression changed from one of disbelief to one of disgust. “Noosa – it’s unbelieveable! Only peasants who don’t have their own beach house go to Noosa or Surfer’s Paradise! We don’t have to go to these places! We have our own place!”

  Louise felt it was time to inject a little bit of “female-perspective”.

  She addressed Angelo as Emilio stood by, listening.

  “So, you and Linda have known each other since she was 16.”

  “That’s right. We met at my sister’s wedding. She is the cousin of my brother-in-law. We have been together ever since.”

  “Right.” Louise continued. “And now Linda is what – 25?”

  “26. She is a nursing sister at Calvary hospital. She has a degree and is doing her masters degree, too.” Angelo was proud of his young wife.

  “She is very hard-working,” added Emilio.

  “I think the shift-work hours are too much,” said Angelo thoughtfully. “I think this is why she gets stressed out.” He was trying to find a reason for his wife’s inexplicable behavior.

  “Perhaps that is the reason,” conceded Emilio doubtfully.

  Louise interrupted the brothers. “I don’t think so.” Both men stopped talking and looked at Louise, waiting for her to explain. “I think Linda just wants to be able to make adult decisions about her life, independently of the Cataldo family customs. Maybe one of her work colleagues goes to Noosa and has told Linda of how much fun they have there. Or perhaps she just wants to go somewhere different; somewhere far away from her in-laws for a holiday – just for once.”

  Angelo blinked. “But why?” He didn’t understand.

  Louise smiled. “Angelo – have you been on a holiday with Linda’s family?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “They don’t have a beach house.” Angelo answered as if it was obvious.

  “But if they did, would you enjoy having a long holiday with them, every year for 10 years?”

  Angelo looked uncomfortable. “Maybe,” he answered grudgingly. Then he added “but they are Greek. And Greek women are very beautiful, but they can’t cook.”

  Emilio added for verification purposes “It’s true. You never even see a tomato from one meal to the next.”

  “Who can eat all that colourless food?”

  “And the Geek olive oil – it’s too heavy.”

  “No flavor.”

  “And always with the oregano! Why not give the salt a chance to sweeten the onion?” The brother’s banter was gathering its own momentum and Louise could see the real issue falling to the floor with the trimmed tresses.

  “Aha!” Louise diverted their attention. “So, there is a little bit of ‘our way is better’ creeping in, is there?”

  Both men stopped and looked at Louise, their faces showing confusion and pain but considering her words. Louise continued. “Linda may be feeling suffocated by her current circumstances. She is mother to a young child; has a demanding career and is studying; and in her own home, where she is supposed to be able to relax, her cooking is second best!” Louise shook her head. “I’m amazed she lasted this long!”

  “Louisa!” Angelo was shocked.

  “Angelo,” Louise interrupted, “Did Linda suggest going to Noosa alone or did she invite you?”

  “She wants to me to go to Noosa with her and Joey. Just the three of us.” Angelo spoke slowly, as though he was seeing the light at last.

  “Then you have nothing to worry about.” Louise said matter-of-factly. “Your wife is asking you to take your family on a holiday to the destination of
her choice. She has accompanied you on family holidays to the destination of your choice for a decade.” Angelo was nodding now. “Yes.” He agreed. “That’s true.”

  “The fact that she has moved out of your home – back to her parents – shows you how important this is to her. Linda is also saying to you “if you stick to your parents, I stick to mine.” By taking her on this holiday, you will be saying to her – and your whole family – that her wishes are important to you and that you put your new family above your old one.”

  Emilio said “This is what I was thinking, too, but you express it very well.”

  Angelo was aghast and turned on his brother. “If you were thinking this, too, then why didn’t you say so?” Angelo was indignant that Emilio should try to claim credit for wisdom he did not possess.

  “Because you would not listen to me! You never listen! Ask Linda!”

  “Guys!” Louise waved her hands at the men. “Now that we have solved Angelo’s crisis, could we please focus on mine?”

  Quite chagrined, Angelo and Emilio were at her service.

  “Of course!”

  “What is it we can help you with?”

  “Anything!”

  Louise held up her hair with her hands at either side of her face. “My hair!”

  *

  She’d gotten up early on Saturday morning, and heading straight to the mall. Her hair was now the same length as before but shaped and cut into a scruffy fringe. Louise felt – and looked – younger and sexier than she had felt since she was a teenager.

  The make-up consultant at Ella Bache’s had “done” Louise’s colours. Louise had often worn a brown mascara and a brownish lipstick, or a purplish one, for years. But – no more. Now she wore a crimson pink crème lippy and navy blue mascara. What a difference it made!

  The make-up expert had discovered that Louise had been dressing in autumnal colours when in fact she should have been choosing the stronger tones of winter. The soft browns and golds washed out her wan complexion, while black, fire-engine red and Evep, dark turqiose blue defined her features and illuminated her skin. With this new information, Louise felt armed and ready to sort through the clothing on offer and choose exactly the right pieces for her new wardrobe.

  Sportsgirl, Country Road, Espirit, the Fiorucci section at David Jones – Louise’s bankcard got a work out from which it would never recover. “I think I’ve flattened out the numbers,” she thought to herself as she examined the little card after the sales assistant had had to swipe it three times before the machine could read it. Then she shrugged. “Thank heavens they can just punch in the numbers if the card stops working.”

  *

  The effect was deliciously instantaneous. Even Louise was unprepared for the impact of her “new look”. In a way, it was disconcerting to think that so many people who knew her on a day-to-day basis could be so easily impressed by a change in her appearance. It seemed disconcertingly superficial somehow. Whatever happened to the belief in an “inner beauty”?

  But Louise shrugged to herself and thought “So it’s superficial? So what? I’ll take it!”

  “Wow!” exclaimed Vera. “Now we’re talking!” She walked around Louise and nodded her head. “Yes, Louise – I like it! The New Lou!”

  Louise laughed with embarrassment. “Vera – please!”

  “Well?” Vera was unrepentant. “Isn’t this the reception you were hoping for?” Vera was indignant. “You’ve changed your whole look! For the better, I must say.”

  “OK, thanks,” Louise was finally grateful for her friend’s generous compliments. “It’s just that I’m starting to feel that I must have been hideous before!”

  Vera laughed. “Well, it’s safe to say that you weren’t putting much effort into your image. But don’t take it that way,” she warned. “Everyone likes a change. And collectively, we are all each other’s environment. For that reason alone, it is important to look our best.” Vera was knowledgeable and certain on so many subjects; and this one was no different.

  But Louise was much too encouraged to be weighed down by issues like the morality of appearance versus character. She shook back her hair with a flick of her head (a newly acquired trait), and tried not to smile too broadly.

  “And stop doing that!” said Vera severely.

  “What?” Louise asked impatiently.

  “That!” Vera was insistent. “That look – as though you don’t want to smile. Smile, for God’s sake! What are you saving it for?”

  Louise laughed outright, and she smiled like her face would split.

  “Oh my God – look at her teeth! You have really nice teeth!” Vera was sincere in both her surprise and compliment. She wagged her finger at Louise. “From now on, I want to see you smiling all the time!”

  “Yes, Mum,” retorted Louise, and she curtsied mockingly.

  Everyone took their turn at acknowledging – or ignoring – the New Lou. Leonie Easton smiled encouragingly; Tina McInerny expressed relief that the purple lipstick was no more; even Anna managed a backhanded compliment.

  “It must be a relief to get rid of all your old stuff!” She exclaimed. “Good for you! You were really starting to look your age. It’s important to keep up with the latest trends as you get older.”

  “Yes,” agreed Louise. And before she could stop herself, she added, “I don’t know what your generation would have done without the push-up bra!” And she flipped her top button open to reveal her generous cleavage.

  “Hey, Louise – play fair!” George had introduced himself to the group and stood as close to Louise as he could. “You have an unfair advantage here.”

  Louise tossed her head at him. “That’s like saying the Harlem Globetrotters only win games because they are tall.”

  But one person made no comment at all. Watching the scene from his glass-walled office, and taking note of Louise’s new image, Chris Hardy felt no need to contribute compliment or rebuke. Louise waltzed by and waved to him, smiling brightly, but was only rewarded by his usual brooding demeanor.

  She pretended not to notice, but thought to herself angrily “Fine. Be that way.”

  *

  With only 5 days till Christmas, it seemed that everyone had too many decisions to make; too much shopping to do and too many demands on their time. Although it wasn’t tax season, the Tax Office used this “quiet time” to do its own housekeeping. Sections were being reorganized and whole branches were being disbanded. Staff members who had comfortably occupied positions for years now found that those positions no longer existed; and in order to retain their employment status, these people had to fit in with the new regime.

  Consequently, training courses were the order of the day and those who weren’t being interviewed were writing references for those who were, and everyone was enrolled in a course on something, somewhere. Not be left out of the fray, Human Resource Management had sifted through its applicable legislated acts and found a few it had not administered for some time. Mandatory attendance at courses on everything from “Retirement Planning” to “Dealing with Stress” was now the bane of many a tax officer’s existence.

  “Sexual Harrassment!” George, Chris and Barney were reading with loud dismay their names from a list which showed that they had been signed up for this course.

  Louise, who had been walking past, laughed. “Oh my God!” she exclaimed. “Don’t tell me they are sending you hopeless lot on a sexual harassment course!” She guffawed some more. “That’s got to be a waste of everyone’s time – not to say taxpayer’s money!”

  Chris was outraged. “Louise.” He sounded quite angry. “None of us has ever sexually harassed any of the women here.”

  “Hey!” George indicated himself indignantly.

  “You don’t count.” Chris was dismissive. “You’re just an idiot.”

  George’s indignation increased but he was deflated nonetheless.

  But Louise continued to giggle. “I agree!” she insisted. “You lot would need lessons on
how to sexually harass a woman!’’ She leaned over and gave George a friendly thump on the shoulder. “But don’t give up, Georgey boy. It is hard for you, having no role models, but practice makes perfect. The three basic rules are:” and she counted them off on the fingers of one hand, “Always be nicer to the prettiest women and, if possible, ignore the plainer ones; remember that the men in the office are the real workers, while the women are just stand-ins; and any girl who makes an effort to look nice at work should be encouraged and complimented.”

  “But I do all those things!” George looked at his buddies for confirmation, which he duly received.

  “You’re almost there, then!”

  “That’s not sexual harassment – is it?” Barney looked seriously confused. “Isn’t sexual harassment asking your secretary out on a date?”

  Louise laughed louder. “He doesn’t even know what it is!”

  “Don’t worry, Barn,” said Chris. “It is whatever they say it is.”

  “Yeah – huh – that would be right – as usual – keeps changing.” Each of the guys agreed with Chris’s statement and shuffled off to put the date in their diaries. Chris remained to give Louise a parting shot. “Better get back to your Mills & Boon, or your Sleepless in Seattle chickflicks, Louise, where all the perfect men live.”

  “Gee, Chris, I guess I can’t compete with the Topless Triplets of Kentucky, so I might as well!” At which point each of them flicked their hair at the other and marched off in opposite directions.

  Chapter 14

  “So,” asked Vera, when Louise got back to her desk, “which course did you sign up for?”

  “Conflict resolution. Actually, it sounds really interesting and I’m looking forward to it.” She leaned back in her seat, smiling. “You should have seen the Audit team when they saw they had to attend a Sexual Harrassment course!”

  Vera laughed. “Them? What for? What a waste!”