Daphne smiled but veered on to another topic until the teacups were empty, when she said, ‘I hope George isn’t filling your husband too full of his wine. I know it’s home-made but it can be very potent. I hear you like gardening, Bright. Come out and see mine and we can look for the men at the same time.’
Taking hold of infant fingers Daphne led her guests outside and found Nat and George, glassy-eyed, in the shed. Clive was nowhere to be seen. Still holding on to Vicky, Daphne ushered Nat from the shed. ‘Your wife’s going to look at the garden, Mr Prince, would you like to come?’ And when Nat was out of earshot she hissed at her husband, ‘He looks kettled! You must’ve been pouring it down his neck.’
‘I had to!’ whispered George. ‘He just sat there saying nowt, it was embarrassing. We had to have something to do. Lad was right when he said her father was hard-going.’
‘Tut! I’ve just found out they’re Catholics as well. I could kill our Clive for not telling me. Where is he? Good job I didn’t invite Rose, we’d never have heard the last of it. It was bad enough having to explain why Oriel had a different name. We’ll have to make up some story for the rest of the family.’ Beholding her son coming from the lavatory she crooked a little hand to summon him.
Nat was weaving his way around the garden after his wife, who occasionally bent over a plant to inspect and sniff. Oriel, seeing that her father’s eyes were rather glazed, took his arm to keep him on course.
Nat had made no great play of examining the Widdoweses’ modest home though it was evident he had when he leaned towards her and asked confidentially, ‘How much money has Clive got?’
She was astounded. ‘I don’t know!’ She did, but it was none of her father’s business.
‘Don’t you think it’s about time you found out?’
‘I’m not marrying him for his money.’ Oriel looked round to see if they had been overheard.
‘No, but it’s best to know before you’re wed. It wouldn’t do if you were the one with all the brass.’
She gasped. ‘Was that a consideration when you married Mother?’
‘That’s different. I wasn’t bothered that your mother had nowt.’
‘It’s not different.’ Oriel spoke through her teeth. ‘I couldn’t give a fig how much Clive has, I’m not marrying him for his money. Everything I have is his. You judge everyone by how much they’re worth.’
Nat saw that he had injected deep hurt and reacted awkwardly. ‘Nay, I didn’t mean owt untoward. I want you to be happy, that’s all.’
‘I will be!’ Prickling with indignation, she left him and went to catch up with her mother, who was admiring the horticulture.
‘Look at these kangaroo paws, they’re much bigger than mine. I wonder if she feeds them?’
The image of Daniel sprawled in a clump of kangaroo paws jumped into Oriel’s mind.
Bright glanced up, saw the sulky mien and asked, ‘What’s your father done now?’
‘He asked me how much Clive was worth!’
Her mother sighed, left Oriel where she stood, arms crossed in an attitude of resentment, and went to remonstrate with her husband.
Nat huffed and pretended to examine the garden. ‘She got the wrong end of t’stick as usual.’
‘Even so, it’s not the sort of question you put to a girl who’s in love.’
‘Maybe not,’ he accepted grudgingly, and offered no more in his defence for it was no use arguing with Bright where her daughter was concerned.
Clive returned to find his fiancée sulking and enquired what was wrong.
‘Oh, it’s just my father,’ she told him. ‘I’m sure your parents must think he’s the most unsociable man they’ve ever met.’
Privately Clive agreed, but he laughed. ‘Why don’t we go out and leave them to it? I’m sure there’re better things to do with our time.’
She did not need to see the gleam in his eye to know what he meant. Since her confession about Errol, Clive had obviously considered that she should sleep with him too and now that she was engaged Oriel felt she must. Although she trusted him implicitly and knew enough now to avoid pregnancy, there was still the fear that he might leave her – leave her if she did sleep with him and leave her if she didn’t. It could never be called a grand passion, but she found pleasure in the physical side of their relationship, and now she grinned back at him to show she was in agreement.
‘We’re just going to eat,’ objected Daphne as her son voiced his intention to leave.
Replying that he and Oriel would slake their hunger elsewhere, Clive gave his fiancée a sly wink and went to fetch his car.
When Bright had said goodbye to her daughter and had gone inside with the others, Nat sidled up to Oriel in an attitude of appeasement, handing her a slip of paper as if it were a secret document. ‘Put that in your bag.’
She read the cheque. ‘Two hundred—’
‘Ssh! Just put it away.’ He looked uncomfortable. ‘It’s a wedding present.’
‘But you and Mother have already bought us a vacuum cleaner!’
Nat’s hand performed a semaphore of disparagement, his face warding off her effusive thanks, and as Clive drove up in the car he strode inside.
Upon being shown the cheque, Oriel’s fiancé was sparing with his enthusiasm. ‘Doesn’t he think I can look after you or something?’ Her smile faded and she pointed out that it was a wedding present. He corrected her as he opened the car door. ‘The cheque’s made out to you.’
Oriel sought to soothe his hurt pride. ‘Oh, but that’s nothing! It’s meant for both of us, he said.’ She climbed into the seat, dealt Clive a kiss to bolster his self-esteem, and after some cajolery managed to restore his good mood before they drove away.
* * *
Much later, in the dark quietude of the bush, the engaged couple enjoyed a rushed and furtive coupling. Afterwards they reclined in the car, sharing Clive’s last cigarette.
Resting her neck against the leather back of the seat, Oriel gazed up at the night sky and pondered dreamily. ‘Sometimes, when you read in the paper about all the awful things that happen, you wonder if God really exists. Then you come out to a place like this, and you look up at all those stars and it makes you feel so… I suppose spiritual’s the word I’m looking for. I feel as if God’s so close that I’m holding His hand.’
Clive’s hand felt its way through the darkness to pat her thigh. ‘I know we’re different religions, but I wouldn’t object to you going to your own church, you know.’
She felt a rude dampening of spirits, as if he had let her down. What had church to do with what she was saying? She experienced a flash of anger at his stupidity. How frustrating and embarrassing to divulge one’s innermost thoughts to have them completely misconstrued.
When she sighed, Clive turned to examine her, wondering what he had said. Not knowing how else to right things he ground out the butt of his cigarette, leaned over and kissed her.
‘I think our mothers liked each other,’ came his quiet opinion when their lips parted. ‘I’m not sure about the dads.’
Oriel agreed that Nat was a hard man to fathom. She uttered a sound of wonderment. ‘To think that he’ll be giving me away in a few months’ time.’
Again he misinterpreted. ‘Well, it might be breaching etiquette but I’m sure no one would blame you if you didn’t want him to do it.’
She turned on him. ‘Why wouldn’t I want him to do it? He’s my father – I love him!’
He was utterly confused. ‘Sorry, it’s just that you keep going on about hating him.’ She often spoke of her childhood.
‘I said I used to hate him! That was years ago.’ Oriel was exasperated. Clive wasn’t a stupid man, and whilst not particularly talented, he was sensitive and thoughtful. Why then could he not grasp the simplest concept? She lifted her wristwatch right up to her face, could not see what time it was but said tersely, ‘Come on, we’d better go. It’s late.’ By the time they arrived home she had forgiven Clive’s misunderst
anding. It was wrong of her to decry him for one small fault, and God knew she had plenty of faults herself. He might not be the soul mate she had yearned for, but his kindness and his gentleness and his love was a good enough basis for any marriage.
* * *
On the morning of her wedding, however, Oriel awoke to a feeling of apprehension when such episodes came back to haunt her. What if she had made a mistake? What if there were more to marriage than each could provide? He had offered her plenty of chances to withdraw at the beginning of their relationship – why had she not taken them? Whatever her qualms, there could be no backing out at this late stage. It was inconceivable that she would hurt him thus.
But once the ceremony was over, Oriel felt a great wave of relief and elation. When the groom smiled back happily at her as they came down the aisle she knew that everything would be fine. The celebration in the church hall afterwards was an enjoyable occasion, the guests being mostly Clive’s relations, for the only family the bride possessed was her parents and sister. Growing up as she had without aunts and uncles and cousins, Oriel found it delightful to be part of such a large clan – even if it did include Thora. That was not quite fair. Thora had done her best to be sociable today – even adding her compliment to the dozens of others Oriel had received on her wedding dress. Perhaps now that she had seen Oriel had no intention of jilting her brother as had Laura, she would be friendlier. The day had been perfect. With Rob and Bill at separate ends of the table there were no rows about football or anything else.
‘What a pity Mel and her husband couldn’t come,’ said Bright to her daughter, taking a rest from entertaining the guests. ‘She would have really enjoyed this dancing.’ On receipt of the invitation Melinda had written back to say she was too big with child now and dared not make the trip.
Oriel was smitten with an intense dart of melancholy. Driving away the image of Melinda’s husband, she fingered her veil and murmured, ‘I suppose it’s just as well they’re not here. She and Dot aren’t the best of pals. There might’ve been a scrap and I wouldn’t want blood all over this dress.’ She smiled across the room at Dorothy who, having given birth a few weeks earlier than expected, had been able to attend and had brought along her lace-bedecked son, tiny but perfectly healthy. Then her eyes fell on Clive’s father, who was gesturing at her. ‘Sorry, I’m being summoned to dance with George.’ However warm the relationship, she could not bring herself to call Clive’s parents Mother and Father. To her there was only one Mother and Father… and in a few hours’ time she would be parted from them. She hurried off before they saw the mist in her eyes.
‘Somebody else is enjoying t’dancing an’ all.’ Nat looked pointedly at Mrs Ratcliffe. ‘Look at the skirt on it, for God’s sake. You can almost see her drawers – and her a grandmother! Your grandma never looked like that.’
Bright laughed tearfully at the thought of Granny Maguire in her little black bonnet.
Yet, there was more reason for her watery eyes than this memory. Their house had been handed to its new owner, the furniture put into storage until a forwarding address had been found and for the last couple of days she and Nat had been staying in an hotel. The parting she had dreaded was here at last. Every time she thought about Oriel leaving for her honeymoon she almost choked with emotion, for she knew that when her daughter returned she herself would be on her way to Queensland and who knew when they would next meet?
Oriel was trying her best not to think of this as she danced first with George then with various admiring uncles before Mabel came to relieve her.
‘Is it all right if a sister-in-law gets a look in? These men! Come and sit down, you must be exhausted.’ With Oriel at her side a fussy Mabel pulled the bride’s veil into order, then said, ‘Now, when you come back off honeymoon – I don’t mean straight away, I know there’ll be things you want to do in the house – but when you feel ready, you’ll have to come round one afternoon, to one of my “at homes” as my dear sister calls it.’ She chuckled at Thora’s attempts to invade the middle-classes. ‘She can’t really afford that house in Prahran, you know.’
Oriel shared the joke. ‘I don’t suppose I’ll receive such an invitation from her.’
‘If you do it’ll be something more than I’ve had.’ Mabel’s round face creased in jollity. ‘You think she doesn’t like you? She can’t stand me! I’ll never forget her face when she found out Bill was my Robert’s brother. She makes up for that by letting everybody know Bill’s got the better job. It takes her all her time to own up to having Mum and Dad as parents. She thinks we’re really common! God knows how Clive won her affection – oh, I shouldn’t say that about your husband! He’d win anybody’s heart, he’s a lovely brother. And it’s been a lovely wedding.’
‘Thanks – for your present too.’
‘Oh, it wasn’t much. Well, nothing would be when compared to Thora’s.’ Mabel’s sister had outdone everybody with her own expensive gift. She turned her face and spoke into the bride’s white satined shoulder. ‘Don’t look now but her ladyship’s coming over.’
Oriel smiled up at Thora’s approach. The smile was returned but it did not extend to Thora’s eyes – though few had ever witnessed any spontaneous sparkle.
‘I won’t keep you, Oriel, I can see you’re being entertained. I just want to say that it’s been a lovely afternoon. You must come to one of my at homes some time.’
‘Thank you!’ Mabel jumped in, beaming, whilst Oriel studied the embroidered cuff of her wedding gown and tried not to laugh.
‘I didn’t mean you.’ Thora kept her attention on the bride. ‘And once you get settled in your new home don’t hesitate to give me a ring if you need any advice on furnishings.’
Clive wandered up then, smiling at his bride, though it was his sister Thora who took affectionate possession of his arm. ‘I don’t want to drag you away,’ he told Oriel, ‘but we should be making a move.’
Her stomach lurched and, unable to look at her mother and father, she merely nodded.
‘You’re going to miss them, aren’t you?’ observed Mabel.
‘Don’t you just love people who state the obvious?’ came Thora’s sardonic opinion, and for once Oriel had to agree with her.
Mabel tried to make amends. ‘But you’ll be able to go and visit them.’
‘Not every week!’ Again Thora belittled her less intelligent sister. ‘It would be like travelling from London to Rome. You don’t do that every Sunday afternoon. Anyway, she’s got Clive now, haven’t you?’
Oriel smiled at him and nodded, then took his hand. Delaying the moment of parting for as long as she could, she suggested they both change into their travelling clothes using the small anteroom at the back of the hall. Embroidered satin dress folded carefully away, she wandered around the hall with her groom, shaking hands, kissing cheeks, wondering how she was ever going to keep these tears at bay. After the final group of relatives had been thanked for coming, she murmured to Clive, ‘D’you mind if I say my goodbyes in private?’
He understood and made gestures at his wife’s parents to follow him and Oriel to the room in which they had just changed. Oriel was rather dismayed to find that Clive remained to share this moment of intimacy. When requesting privacy she had meant to exclude him as well as the guests, but of course he would assume that as her husband he would be included. She stood there awkwardly looking on whilst Clive shook her father’s hand and dealt a brief kiss to both her mother’s cheek and Vicky’s before stepping back to make room for his wife.
Feeling physically sick, Bright could hold back her tears no longer, sobbing noisily as she hugged her elder daughter, patting and squeezing till she thought bones would snap. Nat, holding himself responsible for her distress, hung back in a spirit of wretchedness, gripping the hand of his two-year-old daughter who gazed up at the sobbing women with solemn eyes. But when his wife pulled away to cover her pain with a handkerchief, when Oriel turned her plaintive, tear-stained face towards him, he let go of the t
iny hand and launched himself at her in what was more like a physical assault than the show of great affection that it actually symbolized, his palm inflicting resonant thumps to her slender rib cage, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to fight off tears, whilst Clive remained silently in the background.
Quite unable to speak, Oriel finally drew away, dealt a hasty kiss to her sister’s beflowered golden head and indicated to Clive that she wished to depart right now. Her eyes remained fixed to the floor in order to avoid her mother’s distress as she picked up her bag and hurried ahead of her husband through the congratulatory crush of relatives to the decorated car outside.
Equally desirous of a quick getaway, Nat gave no thought to politeness and made for his own vehicle, unwilling to speak to anyone. Averse to leaving in such rude fashion, Bright reached up to her hat and tugged its veil over her face before going to seek pardon for his haste and exchange sincere thank-yous with the Widdoweses. When the latter glanced in his direction Nat merely raised a cursory finger of acknowledgement as he got into his car, and their eyes soon abandoned this morose man, keener to smile upon the bride and groom as the engine whirred and Clive and his wife climbed aboard.
Nursing an aching heart, Oriel could barely look at her parents again, except to issue a falsely cheerful wave as the car chugged past them. Bereft, her mother and father merely nodded and wept and sniffed, and waved their last goodbyes.
13
The bride and groom spent their honeymoon amongst the fern valleys and lakes of Gippsland. Now that the ordeal of parting with her mother was over Oriel felt somewhat relieved and able to embark on married life with gusto. The land in North Brighton that had been a mere investment was now the grounds of a Queen Anne-style bungalow with terracotta gables and fretwork fringes. It had a central hall from which branched spacious rooms that must be decorated and furnished. It may have been Oriel’s inheritance that paid for all these things, for Clive had minimal savings, but once acquired they were put into joint possession along with the remainder of her money. Clive had further to travel to work now, but was happy to fit in with his wife’s plans. It was he alone who earned their living, for the departure of Oriel’s parents meant the end of her job as her father’s secretary and so she was content to play the housewife and let the man of the house have his self-respect.
A Complicated Woman Page 31