Vision still swimming about a little, moving out of focus a little. Another rum might make them stay put. A few more rums and the atmosphere amongst guests and residents began to thaw noticeably while they talked of impersonal matters, warming to amiability all round by the time they had consumed their burgers.
Finally, Sarah and Gordon took their leave, Sarah saying she had back ache and needed to go home to bed. The others sat on.
‘Funny girl, that Sarah,’ Conrad told the rest of the family in a low, sullen monotone when Sarah and Gordon had left.
‘Don’t know who she’s like. Can’t quite put my finger on it.’ He pursed his lips and shook his head as if puzzled, his tone conversational and friendly, the plan already formulated in his head.
The beginning of the downfall of Annie, bloody Annie with her high falutin ideas about being ill treated and held down for years. Treated her like a queen. Own car to drive around in. Brand new. Access to the check book. Too bad I wouldn’t let her use it though, except to pay the bills and when she did finally pay them without my permission I’d have to go ballistic.
‘Why’s that? How do you mean? Mum says she’s more like her than she is like anyone, like she was when she was young,’ Ruth informed her father.
For a minute there was an intense silence as Conrad sat without a muscle in his body moving. Then he stretched out his legs and looked around the small assembly, with his flinty look that contained a glimpse of martyred tolerance.
Bloody Annie again! Still saying things! Still having opinions! Poking her bloody nose in and daring to talk! Will there never be an end to hearing about Annie?
Conrad gazed blankly at his oldest child, his face closed and neutral. Before speaking he paused as though his mouth found the words he was about to utter distasteful in the extreme.
‘Don’t know, Ruth. Don’t think so. Used to think she was like my sister, Hilda, but now I don’t any more. Never had a lot of feeling for Sarah. Don’t quite know where she came from! Like a cuckoo in the nest, if you like. I don’t think she’s mine.’
The subtle, lurking power of the innuendo, the eye-rolling satisfaction of telling without quite telling, pausing on the brink of disclosure, close enough to topple in or reverse out of the situation if need be. The exquisite fact of having details others would be bursting to know and he was the possessor of the knowledge.
Silence again fell upon the company. Conrad regarded his ice cube floating in his rum and coke. The adults began to move restlessly, shuffling in their chairs while down at the other end of the rumpus room the youngsters could be heard hooting and hollering over a game of ping-pong.
‘I don’t think she’s mine,’ he repeated meaningfully in case his audience hadn’t taken it in the first time around. He rolled the ice cube around in his glass thoughtfully. ‘Mmmm. Always wondered. Bit of a mystery there.’
Astounded, Ruth replied hotly, flaring in her mother’s defense as always, ‘ Of course she’s yours.’
‘God, you do go on Dad,’ David said in disgust.
‘Bet you don’t know your mother had an affair. Bet she’s never told you that,’ Conrad smirked. Triumphantly, he played his ace.
‘I don’t believe you,’ said Ruth firmly.
‘Sober up, Dad,’ said David.
The in-laws squirmed with embarrassment, wishing the ground would open up and swallow them.
‘Time to go,’ said Dan stiffly, taking Ruth by the hand. ‘Your old man’s lost it again. Come on, Ruth. Let’s get out of here double quick.’
Stephanie grabbed David’s hand as she rose to leave.
‘Your father throws a great party,’ said Dan as the four of them walked towards the car in the driveway. ‘Are you going to ask your mother about this?’ he asked Ruth and David as they all climbed into David’s Monaro.
‘No way,’ said David. ‘It’s the booze talking. And for the love of God, don’t tell Sarah.’
But it worried Ruth and it worried David. They couldn’t keep it to themselves. Each time they met their father he added a little more information for them to digest.
‘The man’s name was Jacob Blumberg...um...Bloomberg...er,’ he said during the next gathering when Sarah was absent.
‘We don’t want to hear about it, Dad,’ Ruth and David both told him adamantly. Both of their partners, the in-laws who wished themselves in Hell rather than having to listen to Conrad’s meanderings, turned their faces away and watched the grass growing outside the sliding glass doors. ‘Twenty years older than your mother, he was. Tall, thin bastard, curly black hair, dark, almost swarthy, could have been a Jew,’ he rambled, ignoring their obvious distaste for the subject.
‘It’s her business, Dad,’ David said, watching his two half-sisters playing chess.
The family stirred restlessly, not wanting to sit through another long, drawn out bout of Conrad’s self pity and self-righteousness.
Ruth’s husband, Dan, was on the point of leaving, standing up and moving from one foot to the other.
‘You give a great party, old fella, but we don’t need this.’ He finished his beer quickly. ‘I think I’m out of here, Ruth,’ he pronounced through gritted teeth.
‘He’s dead now, the bastard...Tall and thin he was. Sarah’s tall...’Once started, Conrad could not seem to stop.
‘Leave it alone, Dad.’ David looked at his pregnant wife, Stephanie, who was obviously uncomfortable with the subject matter. He gave a sharp, impatient gesture and an audible sigh.
‘He was dark, though, and Sarah’s fair but that’s nothing. I was always suspicious of her, Annie, that is, you know. She knew that from the day we were married. Suspicious of her and every boy she ever went out with when she was single. Accused her of having gone the whole way with all of them when she was going out as a young single girl. That was once we were married, of course. Couldn’t start in on her while we were single. She’d have bolted for sure. Never let her forget for a moment that I was on to her from Day One.’
‘Give over, Dad. You’re boring everyone to tears.’ David made a move to rise and take Stephanie by the hand to leave.
‘Sit down, David. We’ll forget about what she did or didn’t do.’ He smiled one of his please-love-me smiles at his only son and went on to talk about the dogs who sat at David’s feet, Porky and Snorky. ‘Porky’s a great little killer of snakes, you know. We get quite a lot out here. Snorky couldn’t care less. She’d lick them to death in a flash.’
However, eventually push had come to shove as Conrad had always intended it would. The young people wanted to seek out the truth, needing to defend their mother and remove any suspected taint from the conception of their sister when the timing was right and they felt able to front up to her and her hurt via Conrad’s heartless references to her past.
By this time, Sarah had given birth to a son, Paul.
Conrad had come to the baby’s christening and the party at the young couple’s house later. He had been forced to tolerate Annie’s presence while he looked like some kind of saint. Paul was wearing a white christening coat, proudly knitted for him by Annie, his maternal grandmother. Conrad snorted in disgust at the mention of this and Sarah omitted all mention of it in Paul’s baby book. Annie could only imagine this was in deference to her father’s sensibilities, knowing how proud she would have been if her own dear mother had knitted a christening coat for one of her grandchildren.
As luck would have it, Conrad was forced to duck off from the christening party as soon as he had eaten his lunch, keen to return to his cricket match out at Sobibor, a few miles to the west. He had only excused himself for a short while so that he could attend the christening but the cricket match was all important to him. Man had to get his priorities right. Tiresome as it was, he was a man who knew how to do the proper thing by his family.
But it was all a bit much, really, with Annie attending. He had kept right on being as civil to her as possible all the morning, (a difficult task indeed), while continuing to worry away at
the knotty question of Sarah’s conception. The quandary grew and festered like a boil as he watched the baby Paul’s baptism.
He had sat at lunch quietly regarding Annie over his beer, disliking the way she had with the grown up children—his children. Disgusted and full of loathing, he was only too glad to be up and away after having to witness how she helped Sarah and Gordon with the entertaining, nursed the baby, kissed his son, his son. His only son, David.
He seemed to love his mother, David did, but then he didn’t really know what or who she was. Neither did Ruth, acting all disgusted each time he had tried to tell her the truth, the real truth as only he knew it.
And as for Sarah, one day she would have to be told the truth, that even though she wasn’t his child he had loved and cherished her. He had provided generously for her, paid her mother $5 a week maintenance for her until she started work. Then Sarah would realize what he, Conrad, had put up with for so long. Just a martyr to the family, he was, then and now. Different wife and kids, same martyring.
He thought about the day Annie had left him, of how she had sent the girls to stay with her parents the night before. Then early the next morning before he was awake, she had taken David and gone to her parents’ house. She had left the little boy there and returned to the house with that rotten cousin of hers, all before he had woken up.
That obnoxious cousin, all dressed up like a dog’s dinner, had handed him a solicitor’s letter—something about if there was any further violence, he would be in trouble. Huh! Trouble! That was Annie’s middle name. Huh! Violence? What was that about? Bit of a touch up here and there never hurt any woman that he knew of.
Then the cousin, Adam Goldman, had taken her away. Later, Adam had gone back to Ouswich while Annie, her mother and the children had done a bunk somewhere in separate cars. She had rung him from a public phone and told him to go to see a solicitor.
He had said, (and Annie had remarked on it in her half-smart way later on),
‘You bring my bloody car back.’
Not ‘Come back’ or ‘Bring my children back.’ Just ‘Bring my bloody car back.’
It was expensive, that car, and money didn’t grow on trees. Who knew that better than Conrad did? Man can always get another woman and some more kids, but another car, well, that had cost a pretty packet to buy brand spanking new.
Of course the first thing he had done after that phone call and as soon as the bank was open was to go down to the bank and take all the money out of the joint account. $6,000. Funny that Annie hadn’t already taken it out when she knew she was leaving, preparing for weeks he would say on looking back. Funny person, Annie. Could never fathom her. What made her tick? Why didn’t she clean the bank account out? Why did she fly the coop with the precious station wagon and the three kids and $50?
Yes, a strange girl and she had grown into a funny woman. But he had loved her and even now she had far more effect on him than she should have had, what with being married to Girda and all, lovely Girda, cream of society.
Why had Annie taken to that Jacob Blumberg jerk, er, Bloomberg, tall, thin with black curly hair and dark brown eyes, olive skin like some kind of Arab. Jew boy, even. David knows all about it now. Everyone does. Well, not quite everyone. Sarah and Annie need to be told but curiosity will take care of that where Ruth and David are concerned. Just a matter of time now until they all wipe Annie. Have dropped the facts in and now I’ll only have to let it stew until it’s cooked. Finally let the cat out of the bag. Jolly good show.
Sarah has straight blonde hair, blue eyes, white skin. Still she could have been a throwback. Yes, probably a throwback. But was she alive when all that took place? I think she was, but I’m not real sure of that. I don’t think she was, now I come to sort it out. Won’t matter. No one will know the difference after all these years if I don’t tell them. Certainly not that stupid Annie. She wouldn’t know her arse from her elbow, so to speak. If I rant on and I’m intimidating enough, they’ll all believe whatever I say. I’ve got a way with words.
He thought about how he and Annie had become quite friendly on the night of David’s twenty-first birthday party, or was it Stephanie’s? He had felt quite sentimental and played old records from the time of his marriage to Annie. Lilli had played some songs on the electronic organ and they’d done a bit of singing and some reminiscing, even got a little teary. Annie looked as embarrassed as hell, but they’d had some good times. No one could deny that.
Stirred Girda up, that did. Boy, did she give him a serve after that efisode. That’s the way it’s pronounced even though everyone else says ‘episode’ and they’ve told me for years that I’m wrong. I had a private boarding school education, so I know what’s correct and what’s not.
Got to sort this out once and for all. Can’t have Girda thinking I class Annie as anything but a scarlet woman. Got to think clearly. All going round and round in my head. Mind’s like a windmill. How to clear it? But I’m not the one that’s confused, oh, boy, no. Not this little hero.
The time came when push finally came to shove and Ruth could no longer stand the defamation of her mother without giving her a chance to defend herself.
She rang Annie. ‘Mum, there’s something I want to talk to you about. I’ll be around to see you later.’
Suddenly Annie’s throat was as dry as cotton wool. There was something amiss, trouble in the wind, she could feel it, had felt it for some time. Why was she still having to pay the price for their life with Conrad Himmlar?
‘That’s fine, dear,’ Annie told her warmly, aware there was cause for concern but absolutely unable to put her finger on it.
Ruth arrived looking agitated, glum, rubbing her left hand through her long brown hair and looking at her mother sadly.
‘Mum,’ Ruth began, making a concerted effort to stay logical and calm as Annie put the kettle on to boil for a cup of coffee. ‘Dad says you had an affair early in your marriage.’
She petered out lamely, waiting for her mother to deny the assertion so that all the ugly accusations could be forgotten. Annie had the sensation of the rug being rudely whipped out from beneath her.
‘Does he, indeed, Ruth?’ Annie answered after looking thoughtfully at her daughter for a while, all thoughts of coffee forgotten.
‘Yes, he does. David and I don’t believe him and we told him so. Still he keeps on and on about it every time we see him so I thought I’d ask you and set the matter straight,’ Ruth said. She found herself staring miserably at Annie who had sat down at the table and was deeply preoccupied.
‘He’s right, Ruthie. I did have an affair,’ she finally replied quietly. Annie’s stomach did a sickening flip. So even now after all these years he’s still as treacherous as ever, still trying to reduce my in the eyes of my children, destroy me if possible. No wonder I’ve put up layers of defensiveness, walls of self protection or I’d never have survived all these years, damaged but still battling on.
What went on in his own deep dark past with all the absent nights while he was away working and lack of explanation as to why he stayed out till early morning when he went to town for machinery parts? Lipstick on the collar? People hanging up in my ear from the other end of the phone?
‘Well, that’s your business and we can all totally understand what your reasons were for being unhappy enough to do that. David and I didn’t believe him because you’ve always talked freely to us but you never mentioned an affair,’ said Ruth, totally bewildered.
‘No, I chose not to mention it because I thought and hoped and prayed that you children would never find out that I had feet of clay. I was far from proud of myself about it but at that stage my marriage to your father was over as far as I was concerned. You girls were only toddlers and it was such a long time ago. I hoped that I’d be able to put it behind me when your father and I decided to reconcile. I didn’t want to reconcile at any cost but I was persuaded to. You might even say forced to,’ Annie told her quietly.
Ruth could hear the ago
ny of her mother’s distress and knew the futility of trying to convince her father of anything he didn’t want to believe.
‘Ruth, he was never sure of me even when we were only teenagers and the last thing on my mind was to step out of line in any way. I could never reassure him that there was no one else. It was as if he was wishing to destroy the relationship by dragging it through the mud.
‘He was clutching and possessive, suspicious and bad-minded always. It was as if he wanted me to step out of line so that he would have cause to torment me about it for the rest of my life. And he thought I would never have the intestinal fortitude to leave him so I would always be there to be his scapegoat even until we were old and gray.
‘Often the interminable rows we had seemed to be about nothing but they went to the very heart of the relationship. Because he was never sure of himself he dragged us both to hell and back trying to justify his dreadful behavior. Ill treating me for drummed up reasons that had no foundation in truth, droning on and on into the night until I was almost beyond reason with the sound of his voice.’ Annie was still suffering severely from this long drawn out association that would have finished years ago if they had not shared a family.
The silence was so deep that Annie could hear her heart pounding.
Ruth quaked inwardly but was determined to discuss the matter fully with her mother.
‘But Mum, that’s not the worst of it,’ she said slowly. ‘Dad said he thinks Sarah’s not his. He thinks she belongs to that man, Jacob Blumberg, so he says. Or I think that’s what he’s trying to say. He mumbles and rambles, half shot with drink as he is most of the time when we go out there.’ Ruth’s voice was soft with pity for her mother.
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