A Complicated Woman

by Sheelagh Kelly

  After they had gone to bed that first night, they were alarmed to hear thuds in the roof which sounded like a man walking up and down. Surmising that one of the workmen had hidden up there with the intention of creeping out in the night and robbing them, Nat grabbed a hurricane lamp and made purposefully for the loft, Bright pleading for him to be careful. Tentatively he pushed open the hatch to the roof space and shone his lamp inside – then cried out, and came skimming down the ladder.

  ‘It’s a beast! I can just see its big eyes glaring at me. Well, I’m not tacklin’ that. We’ll have to shut it in t’loft till we can get somebody to get rid of it.’

  Though relieved to find the intruder was not human Bright remained jumpy. ‘I’ll never dare sleep with it thudding around in there.’

  ‘Don’t worry, it can’t get out. I’ve bolted the door.’

  ‘Well, how has it got in?’ Attired in her nightdress and feeling clammy, Oriel had come to investigate the noise and stood scratching furiously at the red lumps on her arms.

  They all looked at each other. ‘Maybe under the eaves,’ tendered Nat. ‘It can’t be that big then. Away, we’ll have to go to bed – though I doubt I’ll get back to sleep in this heat.’

  As a man who liked anonymity, Nat abhorred any dependence on neighbours, but the next morning was compelled to visit the nearest house for assistance, apologizing for calling so early on a Sunday.

  ‘No trouble at all!’ The gnarled old man came out on to his porch, hands on hips. ‘Been up for three hours, went for a stroll to the beach, got me feet wet, came back for—’

  I don’t want to know your bloody life story, thought Nat, interrupting the slow drawl. ‘I’ve got this animal in the loft and I’m wondering who to call on to get it disposed of.’

  The old man frowned and stroked his pitted chin, then gave an exclamation. ‘Oh! That’ll only be the possums. They’ve been living there for years – got ’em in me own roof.’ When Nat asked what they were the man beheld him as if he were stupid. ‘I just said! Possums. They won’t do much harm. Course, I’ll come and have a look at ’em for you if you want rid of ’em.’

  ‘Are they dangerous?’ Nat had never been famed for his bravery. ‘Nah! Nice little blokes – well, some not so little, but they won’t harm yer, long as yer don’t upset ’em. Haven’t got any electric wires in yer loft, have yer? You have? Better make sure they’re protected then.’ He obviously wanted to stand and talk but Nat was already turning for home.

  ‘Thank you! Sorry to have bothered you.’

  ‘She’ll be apples – call again any time!’

  Apples? thought Nat. What’s he on about now?

  ‘“Possums,” he kept saying, like I’d know what one o’ them is!’ Nat complained when Bright returned from Mass. ‘Silly old – I wouldn’t know a possum from a rhinoceros.’

  ‘Well, as long as it’s not dangerous I don’t mind it being there.’ His wife removed her straw hat. ‘I’d just like to know what one looked like.’ She was to discover this sooner than expected that evening when, after a hard day organizing the house, she went to take some rubbish outside and one of the bulging-eyed marsupials hissed at her as she came too near its fruit tree. At her scream Nat came running along with Oriel but upon re-examination they found the possums were ‘nice little blokes’ and decided to let the one in the roof remain.

  ‘I can’t kill a furry little thing like that,’ said Bright. ‘I just wish he’d take his boots off when he comes in my house.’

  If it were not the possums and the heat and the magpies that were keeping them awake it was the traffic. Halcyon impressions were dashed by Monday morning when they were woken by the squeaking and grinding of cartwheels against the tramlines on Point Nepean Road, metal upon metal carrying for miles.

  Bright was still half asleep as she ate breakfast. ‘I thought it would be like living in the country round here but I can’t believe the noise – and that’s from someone who’s used to living on a main road. I don’t think I’m going to last till ten o’clock tonight and there’s still so much to do.’

  ‘What we need is a domestic help,’ announced Oriel. ‘To live in. I mean, I don’t mind helping you, of course, but it might be an idea.’

  Bright’s face portrayed doubt. Nat, too, abhorred the idea of a stranger in his house, saying he had never needed a servant before.

  Picturing herself running about after him, Oriel persisted. ‘You’ve only ever had yourself to think about until now. It’s a large house, the maid wouldn’t be under your feet, you’d hardly have to see her.’

  Giving in, Nat seized the morning paper. ‘Let’s have a look if there’s anybody in here wants a job then.’ His eyes perused the columns of newsprint. ‘God, I think I’m suffering from double vision. Mabel Normand, Mabel Normand – I get the impression that Mabel Normand might be on at the Majestic Theatre but then again I could have misread it. Where the hell are the jobs? I’m up to page eight… there’s a whole page and a half advertising summer sales. Oh, here it is.’ He scrutinized the situations wanted on page ten. ‘“A woman, very capable—” Capable of what? “Charwoman, cook, general.”’

  ‘Don’t strain your eyes,’ smiled Bright, raising her cup of tea. ‘I’ll go to the shop later and put a card in the window.’

  ‘I can do it,’ offered Oriel. ‘I have to go to the shop myself – well, I don’t have to but I fancy some sweets.’ And a sly reconnoitre of the area for eligible bachelors, came her private thought.

  ‘We’ll go together, then,’ replied Bright. She saw the look her daughter passed her. ‘I’m not checking up on you!’

  Oriel grinned. ‘I didn’t say you were.’ Her parents had become more reasonable in granting her privacy, the outburst over Mr Ratcliffe totally forgiven. ‘But I can get whatever you want. Save us both getting sunstroke.’ The temperature had risen to a hundred degrees yesterday noon, confining them to the house. Today looked like being the same. Inside, the ceiling fans provided relief but there would be none out there. Bright insisted she did not mind.

  ‘I’ll mow that grass before it gets too hot then,’ announced Nat.

  ‘It doesn’t need cutting!’ The grass was parched and hadn’t grown due to the lack of rain.

  ‘Yes, it does. There’s long stalks all over the place. I can’t stand stalks. It’ll give me summat to do while you’re away.’

  Although he had acquired a warehouse the sale had not yet gone through, so there was little point in starting up a rag-and-bone collection. Not to mention that the army tents were piled in several rooms of the house. The horse he had bought stood idle in a paddock and the leaflets he had arranged with the printers had not been delivered. As someone who found it hard to relax he was at a loose end. ‘You’re sure you don’t want me to come?’

  Bright laughed. ‘I’m going a few hundred yards, not to Timbuktu.’

  Nat had the feeling that he wasn’t allowing his wife any time to herself. He just could not stand the thought of being away from her. ‘All right then, but don’t spend too long in there. You might breathe in some flu germs.’ The epidemic had arrived in Australia with the returning soldiers.

  ‘I’ll hold my breath,’ she teasingly reassured him, then leaving the cooling draught of the ceiling fan she donned a straw hat and the flimsiest of gloves and made ready to leave with Oriel.

  The act of going outside was like opening the door to an oven, hot air rushing in to envelop them. There had been a wartime embargo on the use of tar and the roads were cracked and dusty, coating their shoes. Oriel observed that it was a good job they did not have far to go, for already the bare skin of her arms felt as if exposed to fire. Her bicycle had been transported from England but as yet she did not feel confident enough to use it on these roads.

  In passing, she glanced at a young man who raised his hat at both women. Bright noticed his eyes flit up and down her daughter’s dress and his mouth turn up at the edges – in fact she had been forced to admit that Oriel had this effec
t on many of the opposite sex. Frowning, she prayed that her daughter would reach marriage unmolested. But, as Oriel had complained, she was a grown woman who must take care of herself, and there were other things to worry about now.

  At the corner shop she told her daughter to take charge of the advertisement while she herself went on a different errand. ‘There’s just something I need to get. I’ll meet you back at the house.’

  ‘Hang on, I’ll come with you.’ Oriel was reluctant to go into the shop without moral support. As soon as she opened her mouth in front of the locals she felt conspicuous.

  ‘You’re as bad as your father!’ scolded Bright. ‘There’s just something I want to do – on my own.’

  Oriel allowed her mother to go, then waited behind a group of women in the shop, occasionally fanning her face with her purse. When her turn came she made her own purchase of lollies – having learned not to ask for sweets for this would attract a gormless expression – and, after buying her mother’s requirements, asked for the card to be put in the window. This was done immediately. Oriel left the store, hovered a moment beneath the shade of the canopy, looking up and down the street and wafting at flies, then braved the fierce sun and made for home, still alert for masculinity.

  She had not gone far before a female voice accosted her.

  ‘S’cuse me, miss!’

  Oriel turned, becoming slightly discountenanced by the heavily pregnant figure who approached her, face gleaming with perspiration.

  ‘Is it you who needs the live-in help?’

  Oriel hesitated, gaping at the burgeoning front of the summer dress before replying, ‘Yes, do you know of someone?’

  ‘Yeah, me – wait, don’t say anything till I’ve said me piece!’

  ‘I wasn’t going to,’ replied Oriel, and waited. Once again the heat began to sear her bare arms. To date the only Australians with whom she had shared more than two words – Mrs Churchill and the Johnsons – could have been from England, but here was an entirely different accent.

  ‘I’m not pretending I’ll be able to do the job as good as somebody slimmer but as you can see I need the money desperate. I’m having to fend for meself since my bloke went on the lam when he found out about the reason for me putting weight on. I’ve never seen him for five months and my family can’t help me. I’m really desperate, miss.’ The latter emotion showed in the speaker’s eyes as she waited for a response.

  Oriel required little time to think. Besides any notion of charity it was far too hot to linger. ‘Come along then.’ And she turned on her heel.

  ‘What – you’ll gimme it?’ The girl sounded flabbergasted at the efficacy of her own persuasion. Oriel had to laugh, and kept walking with the other in tow. Her companion stopped abruptly and turned hostile. ‘If you’re stringing me along—’

  ‘Of course not!’ Oriel had not realized how her reaction would have affected this desperate young woman. She paused briefly. ‘I wouldn’t do that. I mean it, you can have the job.’

  ‘Aw, bonzer!’ The applicant, though still hardly able to believe her luck, saw that Oriel was genuine, and sought to offer a word of caution as she hurried in the other’s wake.

  ‘I’ll do me best for as long as I can but you realize—’

  ‘I understand completely.’ Oriel prevented further explanation. ‘And I assure you that you won’t be overworked, and once you’ve recovered from the birth your job will still be open.’

  ‘I’m not having it adopted!’ warned the other, clutching her side.

  ‘No one would expect you to.’ Oriel’s buckskin shoes created little clouds of dust as she crossed the road. ‘Your child will be quite welcome to stay.’

  This was more than the girl could have hoped for. ‘You’re an angel!’

  Face shaded by the brim of her hat, Oriel smiled to herself and imagined that her father would have a different term of endearment for her. ‘I haven’t asked your name.’

  ‘Melinda Elliot. Most folk call me Mel.’ She was beginning to see that the other young woman’s sophisticated air that had almost prevented her from asking for help did in fact mask a kind and friendly character.

  Oriel held out a white-gloved hand as they walked. ‘I’m Oriel Maguire. How do you do?’

  ‘Bit crook at the moment.’ Melinda summoned a grin as she touched the extended glove briefly and tried to keep up. ‘Sorry, but could I ask you not to walk so fast? I’ve got this awful stitch and the heat is killing me.’

  Oriel had been preoccupied with what her father’s reaction would be. She apologized and at a more leisurely saunter took the new maid home to meet the master of the house, during the journey making casual enquiries.

  ‘Do you live around here?’

  ‘No! I’m from the bush. I come to Melbourne about five months back thinking it’d be easier to find a job and somewhere to live but I don’t like it.’

  ‘Are you living in the city now?’ asked Oriel, pulling the damp armpit of her dress away from her skin.

  ‘Yeah, a place in Fitzroy.’

  ‘Oh I think my father’s just bought property there.’ At his suggestion, Oriel herself had purchased land in North Brighton. She frowned. ‘But that’s miles away.’ Fitzroy was on the northerly side of the city. ‘What are you doing all the way down here?’

  ‘Well, I was living there until this morning.’ Melinda looked sheepish.

  ‘Since I lost me job a few weeks ago I can’t afford the rent. Worked in a shoe factory but they couldn’t help noticing I was getting fat and that was it – I got the boot! Anyway I couldn’t keep working forty-four hours a week. Been all over the place looking, spent a fortune on trams but haven’t done no good. So anyway, this morning I saw a job advertised in Brighton with a room to go with it. I rings up, the woman says yeah come over. I can just about scrape the tram fare together, come all this way, she takes one look at me and says she doesn’t want my sort.’ There was a hint of angry tears in Melinda’s eyes. ‘I was just trailing back along the road wondering what I was gonna do when I stopped to look at the cards in that shop window, seen her pinning yours up. Still can’t believe me luck.’

  Oriel sounded stern. ‘You really shouldn’t be working at all in your condition. Isn’t the father supposed to pay maintenance?’

  ‘Yeah, if they can find him.’

  Oriel nodded. ‘Do you need to go and collect your belongings from your old lodgings?’

  Melinda decided to be honest. ‘I daren’t. I crept out this morning with me nightie and toothbrush.’ She held up a brown paper bag. ‘I owe two weeks’ rent – almost a quid.’

  ‘I could lend you it if you want to retrieve your belongings.’

  ‘Aw, God bless yer but they’re not worth two bob!’ Melinda looked down at her swollen ankles, then snatched a glance at her benefactor. ‘Bet you’re wondering how I got meself like this.’

  ‘It’s really none of my business. Of course, if you want to tell me…’

  ‘I’ve known Dan since we were kids but he’s changed since he came back from the war. He’d never’ve done this to me before – run away, I mean.’

  Oriel made a quick calculation. ‘But if he’s just returned from the war—’

  ‘Oh no, he’s been back about eighteen months,’ replied Melinda. ‘He was wounded in France and got sent home. I only found out ’cause me letters were returned unanswered. I had to go looking for him. I think he felt a bit funny about me seeing him like that. But I thought it was quite romantic, being able to nurse him and that.’

  ‘Was he badly wounded?’

  Melinda nodded. ‘Copped a piece of shrapnel in his head. It’s still there. Not doing any harm, the doctors said, so they left it there. Not doing any harm! I could tell ’em different. He never would’ve run off ’n’ left me like this in the old days. And he got so bad-tempered whenever I said something that he thought was silly. Sometimes I think I’m better off without him. Who am I kidding? Any bloke is preferable to being in this mess.’

&nb
sp; ‘Well, you don’t have to worry now.’ Oriel’s attempts to soothe were genuinely felt. ‘We’ll help in any way we can.’

  ‘Can I ask why you are helping me like this? Not that I’m ungrateful, but, well, I have to admit that you’re not gonna get much work out of me until after I’ve had the bub – not that I’d expect paying. I’m happy enough to have somewhere to sleep.’

  ‘You don’t have to tell me the difficulty you’re facing.’

  Melinda thought she detected a note of authority in the reply. ‘You mean you’ve been in a similar mess?’

  Oriel looked horrified. ‘Oh no! Not personally, but… oh, I might as well tell you as we’ve got different names and it’s going to get complicated.’ If Melinda were to call Nat Mr Maguire it wouldn’t bode well for her situation. ‘My parents are called Prince, they weren’t married until after I was born. My mother had me alone. That’s why I know she’ll help you.’

  ‘Yeah, but what about your dad?’

  ‘Of course he’ll help too,’ emerged the confident reply.

  * * *

  After mowing the area at the front of the house, Nat was now relaxing in shirtsleeves under the ceiling fan with a cold drink to the sound of his wife’s gramophone records. Rarely had he been granted time to enjoy such leisure in the old days but on introduction it had not taken him long to acquire a taste for Bright’s collection of music.

  Eyes closed, his free hand brushed the air in gentle rhythm to the strings, until he heard the outer door being opened and shouted, ‘Brush that grass off your feet. I’m not having anybody mucking up my clean carpet!’ The joke died on his lips when he saw the stranger accompanying Oriel. ‘Sorry, I thought your mother was with you!’ He stood.

  Confronted with the two young women his first impression was of how alike they were in feature – dark hair, blue eyes, round face – but each presented a totally different visage. Melinda wore the eager entreating smile of a Labrador dog whilst Oriel appeared vague and aloof with her dreamy faraway gaze.