Oriel, absorbed by the obstetrical information said quickly, ‘No, it’s all right,’ and she changed the subject, oblivious to how this might hurt the new mother’s feelings. ‘Wouldn’t you like to contact your family or anyone?’
Melinda winced. ‘If you’re game enough to have ’em come stormin’ down here to gimme the rounds of the kitchen. Oh, I suppose I could write to ’em – dunno what they’ll say, but.’
As it turned out, the Elliot family gave a very different reception to the news than Melinda had feared. On receipt of the letter, her father travelled the fifty miles from his home to welcome her back into the fold. At first sight, Oriel and her mother had shared private giggles over the countryman with his big wide-brimmed hat pulled down over his eyes and the old-fashioned clothes, but were glad when after this initial visit Mrs Elliot and the rest of the clan came too.
Nat complained at the intrusion, of course. ‘But at least we can look forward to getting the pair of them off our hands,’ he told Bright.
Alas, they seemed content – nay delighted – that she had found such a nice place to live and work, and were content to leave her in Mr Prince’s service.
‘Work?’ he barked when his wife reported this. ‘We haven’t had a stroke out of her and now she’s gonna be stuck in bed for two weeks!’
* * *
If Nat was none too pleased to have his maid bedridden then neither was Melinda herself. ‘I’m really fed up,’ she wept to her friend. ‘I feel rotten stuck in here with nuthin’ to look at.’
Oriel tried to cheer her. ‘Mother says you can get up tomorrow.’
‘Yeah, but that’s not much to look forward to either, is it? When bub’s been giving yer larry-dooley all night yer don’t feel much like doing housework. It’s me birthday next week an’ all.’
‘Oh, then we’ll have to do something special! I’m not sure if it’ll be a dance, though, they’re few and far between.’
However, when she mentioned this later to her mother Bright thought she might be able to help. With the recent fall in influenza figures some places of recreation had reopened their doors. ‘I’m sure I saw one advertised in the paper.’ She went to sort through a stack of newspapers, chose one and riffled the pages for a moment. ‘Yes, here it is. Next Saturday at St Kilda Town Hall.’
‘She’s hardly out o’ bed and you want to take her gallivanting,’ said Nat. ‘Is she ever gonna be allowed to do some bloody work? Anyroad, there’s still lots of this flu about.’
Bright had grown used to the threat and was no longer quite so hysterical about her daughter going out. ‘If she’s going to get it she can catch it at the shops.’
‘I weren’t thinking of her! If I cop it with my chest I’m a goner. And who’s gonna look after t’babby?’
Oriel looked glum.
‘I will, of course!’ exclaimed Bright. Receiving a frown from Nat she explained, ‘It’ll be good practice for me. I’m a bit rusty after twenty-three years. Not that I was very good at it then.’
‘Well, that’s marvellous, that is!’ he exclaimed after Oriel went to tell Melinda. ‘We hire a maid to take the work off your shoulders. Not only do you end up doing twice the work but looking after her bairn an’ all.’
‘You should get some practice too,’ she told him, then had a sudden thought. ‘Oh, I’ll bet poor Mel has nothing to wear!’
Nat provided a dry riposte: ‘Don’t worry, I’ll run her up a tutu next week.’
* * *
Bright was correct in her assumption, but with a week in which to make preparations Oriel managed to find one of her own frocks that was rather too big and after the side seams were let out it was perfect for Melinda. At the fashion parade the donor, clad in beaded apricot, put on an envious expression and demanded of her mother, ‘How come it always made me washed out and she looks radiant in it when we’re the same colouring?’
‘Well, Melinda has just had a baby,’ replied Bright.
The young mother smoothed the pale green satin over her hips and asked anxiously, ‘It’s not too tight over here, is it?’
‘We’ve already given too many compliments,’ teased Oriel. ‘Here, open this.’ She handed over a small gift.
‘What is it?’ Melinda fingered the present.
‘If I’d wanted to tell you what it was I wouldn’t have wrapped it up!’
‘Aw, that’s really kind of you.’ Having ripped off the paper Melinda took the top off the box to reveal a brooch. ‘That’s gorgeous! Thanks.’ She pinned it on her dress and looked in the mirror.
‘Happy birthday,’ smiled Oriel. ‘Now come on, let’s go.’
Her mother gave a last-minute instruction. ‘Home before midnight, please – and aren’t you going to take a jacket? It’s chilly on a night now.’ Oriel grabbed two light garments from her wardrobe and dashed out with Melinda in tow. Watching them from the window, Nat tutted. ‘These modern lasses, going out with hardly owt on. She’s sure to catch summat.’
Taking a train from Gardenvale Station to St Kilda, the young women did not have far to walk before the classical columns of the town hall came into view. After handing over the entrance fee and discarding their jackets at the cloakroom they followed the sound of music and entered the dance hall, hiding behind their handbags and flitting self-conscious looks around them. There was a good crowd here, half of it made up of demobbed soldiers, all injected by a frantic impulsion to enjoy themselves as if it were their last night on earth, the band on the stage stirring them to greater efforts.
Despite the activity, both girls felt as if all eyes were on them.
‘I feel really fat beside you,’ bemoaned Melinda.
Oriel reassured her, then overheard two girls sniggering about the diamanté on her headband and shoe buckles – who does she think she is, the dog’s breakfast? – and the entire night was spoiled before it began. Vexed, she spotted a pair of vacant seats along the edge of the room and suggested they head for them.
‘Hey, I haven’t come to sit like a shag on a rock, I’ve come to dance!’ objected Melinda, but followed Oriel, both weaving their way in and out of the dancers.
Almost immediately they had sat down an unattractive youth with pimples approached Oriel and asked if he could have this dance. Still smarting from the criticism, she opened her mouth to give polite refusal, when Melinda chimed up, ‘Yeah, you go! I’ll hold your bag. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be right.’
Without wanting to appear rude Oriel was forced to accept the young man’s clammy hand in hers. Despite having visited classes at home she was not very adept at dances that required a lot of co-ordination with one’s partner, and obviously neither was he, but during one awkward twirl Oriel was able to spot Melinda being whisked from her chair with no prompting whatsoever by an extremely good-looking chap.
Her charitable nature sorely taxed, she prayed for the tune to end. When it did she hoped Melinda would return to her seat, giving her the excuse to say, ‘I’m sorry I can’t leave my friend on her own.’ Unfortunately other young men appeared to be bowled over by the fluffy and frivolous Melinda and were queuing up to dance with her. Therefore when Arthur asked eagerly if could he have this next dance too, and Oriel’s anxious eyes searched the room for a saviour, there were no candidates and she was obliged to undergo further torment.
She glared at Melinda. Look at her! You wouldn’t think she was the mother of a three-week-old baby the way she disported herself. Melinda caught her eye and winked and grinned. Oriel responded with a sickly smile, then cringed as Arthur’s clammy hand burned through the apricot satin into the small of her back. When the music ended and Arthur opened his mouth with hope in his eye she forestalled him with as much kindness as she could muster. ‘Thank you very much! I think I’ll sit the next one out. I’m a little thirsty.’
‘I’ll get you a drink!’ Arthur was not the kind to take a hint. He escorted her back to her seat, disappearing only to visit the upstairs room where beverages were served. Oriel tried to ca
tch Melinda’s eye and having done so made gestures.
‘Come and rescue me!’ she mouthed.
‘What?’ came the frowning response.
‘Come and – oh, thank you, that’s very kind!’ Oriel tried to convey warmth as the young man handed her a glass of lemonade. Her heart sank when he sat down beside her and tried to instigate conversation, asking whereabouts she lived and for how long. ‘We only arrived from England in January.’ Oriel hoped he would not ask for her address and began to invent one just in case.
Arthur nodded in recognition. ‘I thought I hadn’t seen you before. I know all the pretty girls who come here.’
What a dreadful smile, thought Oriel, attempting to be nice. She looked round at all the other men in the room. Please, at least one of you take pity.
Arthur edged slightly closer. ‘As you’re new to the area you might find getting home a problem. Maybe I could—’
‘Oh, no! It’s no problem at all.’ Oriel looked frantic and cursed Melinda.
The message finally got through. A breathless Melinda, swinging Oriel’s handbag on her wrist, returned to hover over Arthur, who was forced to give up his seat. She planted her buttocks.
‘Cripes, I’m worn out.’
‘I’m not surprised,’ muttered Oriel, and snatched a gulp of lemonade.
‘Could do with a drink.’ Melinda handed over her friend’s bag and looked beseechingly at Arthur, who offered in a reluctant tone to get her one.
The moment he had gone Oriel turned on her friend. ‘Thank you very much for landing me with that troll!’
The answer was simple to the other girl. ‘Well, why didn’t you dance with someone else?’
‘They were all too busy dancing with you! Anyway, I couldn’t be mean. Who else would dance with him?’
Melinda recognized the problem. ‘None of the other blokes dared ask you, you’re too pretty.’
Oriel blushed. ‘That didn’t seem to inhibit Arthur.’
‘The ugly ones don’t realize they’re ugly.’
‘Never mind all that, just help me escape before he comes back!’ Melinda rose. ‘Come to the dunny with me. I have to – aw, look!’ She gawped at the small damp patches on the bodice of her dress. ‘How long have I been sitting there like this? How will I get across the room?’
Oriel, trying not to show her distaste, offered her handkerchief. ‘Pretend you’re blowing your nose and cover the damp patches with your forearms.’ She rose and was about to follow the other when her suitor reappeared with the glass of lemonade. ‘Excuse us, Arthur, we just have to visit the cloakroom.’
He nodded and sat down.
By the time they reached the lavatory Melinda’s damp patches had spread and Oriel could hear groans coming from the cubicle. ‘Aw, bloody hell, I’m leaking both ends!’ After much swearing and sighing the cistern flushed and a miserable face emerged. ‘Sorry, but I’m gonna have to go home – and just when I was really enjoying meself.’
‘Don’t worry about it. I don’t mind at all. There must be a side exit, we’ll just sneak out.’
‘What about your friend Arthur?’
‘He’s not my friend! I just said we were going to the cloakroom. I didn’t say we were coming back, did I?’
Melinda grinned. ‘Good while it lasted though, weren’t it? I feel heaps better. Shows I can still attract the fellas and I haven’t even got my figure back properly yet.’
‘You look lovely,’ said Oriel, checking her dark bob in the mirror. Maybe the diamanté headband was a little too showy after all. ‘If Dan had been there he would’ve been really jealous to see all those men dancing with you.’
‘Too right! Did you see the last young bloke I was with, the one with the fair hair? I could really go for him. If I hadn’t had to visit the dunny he might’ve taken me home.’
‘Thank heavens for weak bladders,’ murmured Oriel, ‘or I would’ve been stuck with Arthur.’
‘Yeah, he is a bit spotty, isn’t he?’ Melinda wrinkled her nose. ‘Plenny o’ money, but. Yer could tell by his clothes.’
‘Don’t kid me you would’ve gone home with him. I wouldn’t believe you.’
‘Least he’s better than one who runs orf and leaves yer.’
Oriel opened the door, then closed it again quickly. ‘He’s out there!’ When asked who she hissed, ‘Arthur! He’s virtually waiting outside the door.’
Melinda saw no obstacle. ‘Well, just tell him I’ve got to go home.’
‘He might ask me to stay – come on, we’ll have to climb out of the window.’ Oriel’s teenage years had been spent in single-minded revenge against the father who had deserted her; she had never involved herself in such childish pranks as this. But the near annihilation of her own generation had infected her and other young things with a sense of urgency. She was now determined not to waste another minute.
They ran back into the lavatory. Giggling, Melinda hoisted her dress and, with Oriel pushing from behind, clambered up on to the sill and after much grunting and laughing squeezed through the small sash. Dress round her thighs, Oriel followed, banged her head, complaining and laughing at the same time, then jumped down – almost on top of a couple involved in some lewd activity in the bushes. She stood to goggle, feeling thrilled and shocked and disgusted at the sight of the man’s brown fingers on the white fleshy thighs and the girl hurriedly trying to pull down her skirt over her stocking tops. Melinda grabbed Oriel’s arm and they hurried away tittering out of the gardens and onwards towards the station, past houses and shop fronts, around a corner – right into the arms of two soldiers.
Before Oriel had the chance to object she was grabbed by the upper arms and found herself sandwiched between a hard body and a plate-glass window to receive a passionate kiss. Fired by the sight she had just witnessed, she made no attempt to pull away but responded in kind, grinding her lips against the soldier’s, experiencing a burning heat in the cleft of her thighs as he pushed himself against her, harder and harder – then suddenly there was an enormous crack as the window gave way to their compression. Jolted by panic, the vacuum between Oriel and the soldier was broken. Men and girls scattered in opposite directions, Oriel and her friend making a breathless escape, laughing deliriously as they pelted to the station.
‘You’ll have the traps after us!’ accused Melinda as they jumped aboard the rattler, then teased, ‘Cripes, you’re a bit of a doer on the sly!’
Her companion looked guilty as the train pulled away. ‘Don’t you dare say anything to Mother!’ Feverish of eye, heart still thudding, she settled back into the seat, wondering what might have occurred had the window not given way.
* * *
A week after Oriel had been to the dance she and her mother went on a shopping expedition to the city to buy, amongst other things, a layette for the Prince baby. Its birth might be six months away but the expectant mother’s enthusiasm held no bounds. Whilst hitching his horse that morning, Nat had teased that Bright was wasting his money, he could find her decent enough baby clothing on his rounds, but she knew him well enough now to realize that he would never allow a child of his to wear castoffs. He had, though, donated several tiny garments from his collection to Alice, and Melinda had been delighted with them.
With the flu again gaining rampancy, many shops were closed and the streets were less hectic than usual. It was pleasant not to be bumping into people all the time, as often happened. Many folk wore protective gauze masks which Bright thought they should adopt but her daughter was not keen to look so outlandish, more intent on plundering the light and airy shopping arcades.
Whilst they were in a department store, with metal tubes whizzing overhead, to and from the central cash system, her mother picked up a little dress. ‘Wouldn’t Alice look pretty in this? I’d like to buy it but your father’ll think I’m mad. Still, folk’ve been saying that for years so why should I care. I’ll take it.’ She handed it to the saleswoman to be wrapped, along with the dozens of other small items. ‘It’s a
real pleasure. I never had any o’ this with you. All I got was a few things from the nuns, and Miss Bytheway paid for the rest o’ your stuff. I’m going to enjoy having this baby – not that I didn’t enjoy having you, love!’ She caught Oriel’s hand and squeezed. ‘It’s just that I never had the chance to have you to myself, what with people interfering.’
When the items were packed, Oriel handed over a purchase of her own. ‘Will this fit?’
‘Aw, that’s lovely.’ Bright held up the lacy bonnet. ‘You’re a good lass.’
Oriel felt guilty. She didn’t feel good – felt selfish for not looking forward to this baby as much as her mother was.
They left the shop and, after visiting others, were walking through Coles Arcade towards the cool repose of the fernery where they would find a seat, when they encountered Mrs Ratcliffe and Dorothy. Framed in her amethyst basin-like hat, Oriel’s face lit up in pleasure.
‘Ratty, it’s been weeks! You said you’d keep in touch. I sent you my new address and telephone number – didn’t you get it?’
The tall majestic figure looked equally delighted to see her friend. ‘Sorry! I’ve been meaning to ring, it’s just that we’ve been so busy arranging our move. We’ve got a new house in Elsternwick, near the park.’
‘Oh, I know, it’s dreadful trying to organize things,’ agreed Oriel.
Bright and Mrs Ratcliffe looked at each other and smiled knowingly as their daughters twittered like the caged finches.
‘And Father’s so concerned about this flu epidemic.’
‘Mine too! He’s hardly let me out of the house.’
Bright objected, ‘That’s not true!’
‘I did manage to go to a dance at St Kilda last week but we didn’t stay that long. I went with Melinda – she works for us – but she had a bit of an accident so we had to leave, thank God. Oh, let’s get a cup of tea and I’ll tell you all about it. Have you time?’
Mrs Ratcliffe asked if they would mind risking their necks to cross the street to Buckley’s where she had discovered their Elizabethan Tea Room, which had become her regular watering place in the city. As they struggled across Bourke Street, Oriel described the embroidered silk kimona gown she had just purchased in Buckley’s sale.
A Complicated Woman Page 16