Big Mother had no choice. If she didn’t laugh, she would lose face, and that was not allowed to happen in her own family. So, she pretended that it was a funny joke Eve had pulled on them all. Everyone laughed. And Eve spent the rest of the evening speaking to everyone there in loud, confident Cantonese, just so that there would be no doubt that she understood every word they said, and had done so for quite some time. For Cantonese is not a language one masters overnight.
After that, Eve was established as a force to be reckoned with and Big Mother no longer treated her like a retarded child. Martin’s respect for his Australian wife grew, too, and anyone would have forgiven Eve for feeling comfortable with her lot in life.
But Martin was not comfortable. After 25 years of marriage, he was now 50 years old. He and Eve had always had a healthy sex life, but lately he couldn’t seem to respond as reliably as usual. It worried him. He started going to strip clubs, where he was relieved to discover that his response was alive and well. After all, it requires no effort to watch a naked woman dance and nature can take its course without having to defray available energy. Then he visited a prostitute, where he found himself able to both stand and deliver, but unfortunately also took delivery of a dose of the clap.
What he didn’t know was that he had passed this on to his wife before he realized that he had it.
When Eve presented herself at her own doctor with a “strange infection”, the doctor explained what she had and the quickly outlined all the ways Eve might have caught the disease. The state of public lavatories was a disgrace, but Eve never used them. She thanked the doctor and left the surgery, armed with a prescription and a fair idea of the new rules in her marriage.
In any event, Martin had ascertained that the problem did not lie with him. He was simply not sexually attracted to his wife any more. Pornography worked well and he found this safe and satisfying.
Eve had, of course, noticed that Martin no longer wanted her in bed, and she missed their intimacy from a personal perspective and a physical one, for she had always enjoyed sex and at 40 was not quite ready to forego it forever, but she loved her husband and if he was struggling with an “older man” problem, she did not want to exacerbate things. She had tried to broach the subject with Martin once or twice, and even consulted a doctor herself and then discussed what she had been told with Martin, but on both occasions he had been very angry and refused to speak to her about it at all. So, although she was not happy to do so, Eve learned to live with the new rules in their relationship.
She might never have found out about Martin’s affair, in fact, had not Martin made a silly error. Although a very rich man, he was always vigilant on economies and while they lived well, he would not leave the lights on in an empty room, nor buy the first Mercedes Benz he saw until he was sure he could not get it cheaper elsewhere. So, when he returned from a business trip to Macau and left the hotel receipt on the table so that he would not forget to take it to the office the next day or leave it in his coat pocket which was about to go to the cleaners, Eve was surprised to see only one hotel room on the company account. Candy, a young account manager with the firm, had accompanied Martin. Why were there not two rooms?
Eve immediately knew. So, this explained why Martin no longer sought her for marital relations. It was 1984. She collected the children’s passports, transferred a large sum of money into her own bank account in Australia, and started to pack.
*
Mary had been right – Eve had divorced Martin for revenge. After giving him 5 sons and a daughter, and 25 years of her life, she had been replaced by Candy, who was, in Eve’s angry mind, “an office flunky”.
Eve could not stand the degradation. She had loved Martin and been faithful to him. She had never been jealous or nagging. Certainly her social needs were greater than her husbands, but that wasn’t so unusual. She didn’t force him to be part of her housewives’ social group – and on the rare occasion they did entertain anyone other than family, Martin always seemed only too happy to play the benevolent host, since Eve had in fact done all the work and prepared the event without any effort required from Martin.
Eve was never sick, not even when she was pregnant. Having babies wasn’t an inconvenience to her and she didn’t let Martin lose any sleep when a new baby arrived, either. Eve always had a nanny on the spot to help with babies and toddlers. And now – aged 55 – he had found a sweet young thing to spend his evenings with. Well, well.
“Let’s hope she’s up to the task,” thought Eve, gulping back her broken heart.
*
Dinner was quickly eaten. Jim marvelled at the speed with which the food disappeared, given the amount of time and planning that had gone into its preparation. He stopped himself from commenting on this, though, because he knew Mary would pounce on the opportunity to welcome him to her world of the woman’s daily grind.
He couldn’t refrain from eliciting some praise, though.
“Well, that was alright, wasn’t it?” He smiled around the table but was met with blinks of non-comprehension.
“The meal,” he explained.
As though a veil had been lifted and the trophy revealed, his children responded with a collective “Aah, yes!” and congratulated him on the delicious meal.
*
Christmas Eve-Eve, 1988. A work day in Canberra. A very short workday all over the world. The morning had started out with a milky sky, but the temperature was already warm so no one was fooled. The honeysuckle in the courtyard of Louise’s “garden flat” perfumed the morning air and she had opened all the front windows as well as the door to let the scent in. It was fun just getting ready for work today. Louise played Alison Moyet “All cried out”; INXS ‘It’s the one thing”; and Police “Don’t stand so close to me” as she dressed. And, because it was Christmas, the Vienna Boys Choir singing her favourite hymn “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen”.
Louise dressed with regard for the office Christmas party, which had been planned, booked and paid for back in August, and was to be held at Sails lakeside restaurant in the Belconnen Town Centre.
Christmas Eve meant “no rules” with regard to office attire. She had three outfits to choose from and couldn’t decide whether to wear the green mini skirt and white V neck T shirt; the fitted, light-weight watermelon pink linen suit; or the pedal-pusher light blue jeans with the same white V neck T shirt. In the end she decided to go for the watermelon pink suit, deciding that this was a “both ways” option. It was a suit, and therefore professional; it was watermelon pink, and therefore festive (and feminine); it was fitted and very flattering, and therefore perfect. And – it could take her “into the night” should social events turn that way.
Being Christmas, one never knew.
Even driving to work was fun. By the time Louise got to the office, the temperature had already hit 30. It was a relief to enter the air conditioned foyer, and find that iced pineapple juice, a gift from the Commissioner, Trevor Boucher, had been provided for the staff.
“Is this really for us?” George asked Leonie as she handed him a cup. Anna and Chris were already drinking theirs. Anna was wearing a tight black T shirt and a dirndl skirt in frayed denim. She had her hair up and wore dangly earrings which wobbled attractively when she moved her head.
“All for us. Enjoy!” Leonie smiled.
“Don’t get too excited, Georgey boy,” said Chris. “It’s only pineapple juice.”
“What’s wrong with pineapple juice?” Louise had just joined the queue for juice.
Chris had noticed Louise immediately when she walked in. He hadn’t seen her wear this colour before and it had attracted his attention, which he found disarming and confusing but pleasant.
He stumbled over his explanation because he wanted his first words to her to be in recognition of her nice appearance and not something negative about juice.
But he had to respond, so he said “Nothing’s wrong with it. It’s just the cheapest juice on the market.”
Anna tried to insert herself into the conversation and flatter Chris at the same time. “Always the economist, right Chris?”
“No,” countered Chris, looking at Louise. “I just like watermelon better.”
“Whoa!!” screeched George to no one in particular. Then he wandered past Louise and addressed Anna from behind Louise’s shoulder. “Hear that? Chris likes watermelon!”
But Chris didn’t say anything. He did, however, watch Louise over the lip of his cup as he drank the disparaged juice.
Louise was surprised and confronted by Chris’ uncharacteristically blatant statement. Either he was teasing her; or he had thrown down “the gauntlet of lerv”. Louise shifted her weight to one leg and ever-so-slightly pushed out her chest.
Anna Sims, who had been holding court with both Chris and George prior to Louise’s arrival, groaned, rolled her eyes and walked off in a huff. Leonie gagged her laugh and escaped to her office. Louise waited for Chris himself to run away, but he stood his ground and smiled at her. She felt unnerved. She smiled back.
“So,” he said, finishing his juice and throwing the empty cup into the waste basket. “What are we doing after the lunch?”
Louise tried her hardest to be nonchalant. “I haven’t thought that far ahead,” she said.
“Really?” He looked her up and down, as if to say “I don’t believe you!”
Louise laughed. “Well,” she said lazily, “it’s Christmas, so a few of us may meet after work at the Hyatt.” She paused to sip her juice and flutter her eyelashes (navy blue Ella Bache waterproof mascaraed eyelashes). Anyway you can talk!” Louise lent over and flicked his light blue and lavender silk tie. “Looking very handsome today Mr Diamonds and Helicopters Hardy!”
Chris pretended to be embarrassed that Louise was referring to his recent Audit win against a money launderer and big-time drug dealer, involving the Fraud Squad and CIB aerial recognizance, but he clearly loved the name.
“I don’t look as good as you.” Chris looked at her with dark eyes.
“You smell pretty good.” She said it before thinking. She meant it too. He smelt awesome. He smelt of Clean Chris. It was better than a bunch of flowers. She took a deep, slow breath. She smiled and closed her eyes and leant towards him, almost touching his cheek with her hair. He closed his eyes and smelt her hair. He put his hand on her waist and their cheeks met.
“Look,” Chris was the first to speak. He dropped his hand from Louise’s waist and shook his head slightly. “I’m driving to the lunch today, so you can get a lift with me if you want to leave your car here. I have to go now.” And he cleared his throat and left.
Louise felt – good. She flicked back her hair with a jerk of her head and, lifting her chin, sauntered into the office.
*
Friday night before Christmas. It was just 4pm when Louise arrived at the Hyatt. Margot was already there and, as soon as she saw Louise, grabbed her arm to steer her to the Ladies.
“Thank God you’re finally here!” she hissed.
Louise had been enjoying a moment of reflection over past, pleasant events and was unprepared for this assault. “What’s wrong, Margot?” she asked, quickly back in the present. Then, seeing what her friend was wearing, she added “You look great, by the way.”
Margot was wearing a low-cut pale blue synthetic jersey wrap-around dress with a white silk twisted scarf tied around her hairline, and a heavy silver Moari style necklace and matching dangling earrings. The dress complimented her figure and the colour accentuated Margot’s already very blue eyes so that she did look quite gorgeous.
But Margot was too distracted to acknowledge Louise’s compliment. “Lulu – Andrew is here.” Margot was clearly distressed. “Gordon, too.”
Louise didn’t quite understand. “Are they with anyone?” She meant women and Margot knew that.
“No, no – just the usual bunch of guys.”
“Then what’s the matter?”
“I don’t know!” Margot looked like she might laugh – or cry. “I don’t know, Lou!”
“What you need is a drink, my friend.” It was Louise’s turn to take Margot’s arm to steer her – out of the Ladies. “Just stay with Aunty Lulubelle and everything will be OK.”
“I’m glad you’re here Louise.” Margot took a deep breath. “When I was here alone, and they walked in, I felt naked. I panicked.” She took a deep breath. “Yes. A drink. You are right. I will be OK.”
“Good girl. Now, put on some more lipgloss.” Both girls reapplied. Then Louise looked at Margot. “Ready Steve?”
“Aha.”
“Andy?”
“Yeah.”
“Rick?”
“OK.”
“Alright fellas! Let’s gooooooooooo!”
They composed themselves before Louise opened the door and ushered Margot into the lobby. They crossed the marble hall and walked straight through the main reception area and directly out to the sunken lawn, to the outdoor bar which was always set up there on Friday night.
The trees had been adourned with tiny white Christmas lights, and all the handsome young male waiters, still in their usual black trousers and white shirts, had added red Santa hats to achieve a very festive and cheeky look.
“Oh, Margot!” Louise was delighted. “Isn’t this great? I wonder what the poor people are doing?”
“We are the poor people Lulu!” Margot giggled.
“Not tonight my dear.” Louise took two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, expertly giving him some money with a gay smile. “Tonight we are the attraction.” She passed one glass to Margot. “Cheers!’
“Merry Christmas,” Margot responded.
No sooner had the girls tasted the champagne than Simon appeared at their side.
“Well hello!” He laughed his greeting and kissed each girls cheek.
“Simon! Hello!” Louise and Margot were pleased and relieved to see him. “Is Kim here?”
“No, she has her work Christmas party tonight.” He addressed Louise. “I was hoping I would run into you. “Are you still coming to Christmas dinner on Sunday? We are expecting you.”
“I’ll be there,” said Louise.
“Good, because –“
But Margot interrupted him. “Lulu – you are not seriously going to miss Christmas with your family, are you? I thought you were over all that.”
“No way! If anything – it is worse than ever.” Louise shuddered in mock horror. “Imagine it: Dad and Sam (who will, of course, be stoned) vying for dominant male status over the Christmas turkey; Jane not knowing whether to pander to Roxanne or Marie as they compete for being the most pregnant; and Mum sulking because she isn’t the centre of attention. Michael and James will be just as stoned as Sam, and -”
“Stop, I get it!” Margot waved her hands in surrender. “So what are you having at your place, Simon?” Margot was keen to hear no more about the dysfunctional Keats clan Christmas.
But Louise stopped her. “Margot, it has just occurred to me. You come from a large Catholic family too.”
“Do you?” Simon was surprised. “I always thought you were an only child.”
Margot scoffed. “I wish!” she laughed. “I’m the eldest of nine.”
Simon almost choked on his beer. “Nine? Nine what? Not nine children, surely!”
Margot nodded slowly. “Why do you think I went to boarding school?” she asked. “Mum and Dad had a live-in nurse for years, but it was still insane. And with Dad being a surgeon and the last babies were the twins –“
“Twins!” Simon was really shocked. “Boarding school must have been a haven.”
“Yes,” Margot agreed. “I wasn’t the only one who chose boarding school. It was a relief for a few of us – Mum included, I think.”
“Stop avoiding my question!” Louise wanted an answer. “Are your Christmases alright? How come you never have any dramas?”
“Oh, we have dramas, don’t worry. But my brothers and sisters are all younger. Your fam
ily is closer together. There is a 4-year gap between me and Joanna. I think that is the main reason. No one is married yet. But a few of them are adults age-wise, just not personality wise and that causes problems. Mum would like to retire but she and Dad still end up paying all the bills for the rest of the kids constantly, which is pretty unfair considering I never asked them for anything. You know – all that causes friction. “
“Well, that’s alright then,” said Louise.
At that moment, Gordon arrived. “We sent you over here to get the girls, Si – not keep them all to yourself!” And he directed his absolutely magnificent smile straight at Louise.
Louise was caught out by Gordon’s arrival. She hadn’t spotted him when she had arrived and even though Margot had warned her that he was here, she had been distracted by the conversation and now, here he was, and she hadn’t kept her tummy pulled in or checked her hair and –
“You look very” he ran his eyes salaciously over her body “juicy.”
Louise couldn’t help but giggle. “Yes,” she agreed. “I do.”
“They both stand out like neon signs.” Simon was less inclined to be complimentary. “Only the Queen can get away with wearing colours like that.”
“They look like a beach sky.” Gordon was definite. “Just after dawn.”
Margot tried to hide her smile. And Louise could see what Margot could not – that Andrew was approaching.
“So, we have moved camp, have we?” He leant down and kissed Margot’s cheek.
This was a well-known action which could mean various things. It could mean “This is my sister-in-law”; or, it could mean “This is my best-friend’s wife” or, it could mean “I have slept with this girl and I still like her.” It could, and did, however only mean one of those things at any given time.
“I had no idea!” thought Louise. “Wow! No wonder Margot was nervous!” Then she started working back through her mind to try to pinpoint the exact date of the event.
Christmas in Canberra Page 21