A Complicated Woman

by Sheelagh Kelly

  ‘I do love you!’ Overwhelmed with compassion at the tremor in his voice, Oriel hugged him and wept, too immature to recognize that her words came not from genuine love but from pity.

  15

  Upon receiving a letter from Oriel telling her that everything was all right now, Bright gave thanks to God, and was even more overjoyed when another arrived two months later to say that her daughter was expecting a baby.

  No one was more amazed than Clive who had assumed his wife to have no maternal feelings whatsoever and thought that she was joking when first she made her announcement. Even at her laughing insistence he still beheld her as if this were some cruel hoax, making her wonder if that was what he really believed she was capable of. It rather took the shine off her announcement.

  Only when she had made her divulgence to others did he actually believe her, but once convinced he was beside himself with joy. ‘I really thought you were kidding! When do you have it? How are you feeling? God, I can’t believe it!’

  Oriel laughed fondly and told him it was due at the end of July, grunting as he hugged her. ‘Ouch! I’m feeling a bit sick at the moment.

  ‘Sorry! God, I can’t believe it.’ Two months ago his world had been at an end and now he was to be a father. ‘I hope it’s a boy.’

  ‘Me too,’ smiled Oriel.

  But as the birth grew closer she found herself regarding the child inside her as female, began to hope desperately that this were so, even though she, like Clive, still referred to the baby as ‘him’, and they had only ever discussed boys’ names. She enjoyed being heavily pregnant, revelled in the status this bestowed upon her, had never felt so wonderful, and for three of those marvellous months had a valid excuse for refusing her husband his conjugal rights.

  ‘I just can’t get over how radiant you look,’ beamed Dorothy one afternoon in June. ‘How long have you got to go now?’

  ‘Six weeks.’ Oriel eased her extended abdomen to the other side of the armchair. ‘I might look radiant but I feel like a Zeppelin.’

  ‘What’re you going to spend your bangle bonus on?’

  Oriel had not thought about maternity benefits. ‘I’m more bothered about how much it’s going to hurt.’

  ‘If you went into hospital they’d give you Twilight Sleep.’

  ‘Oh no, not me!’ After hearing all about her friend’s humiliating experience in hospital Oriel had plumped for a home delivery.

  Dorothy gave a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry too much. They say the first one’s the worst but having Terence was a picnic compared to his little brother.’ She lifted a hand to scratch her head, the action causing her long sleeve to crease round her elbow.

  Oriel remarked upon the purple colour of her friend’s arm. ‘What a dreadful bruise!’

  Dorothy looked abashed and tugged on her cuff. ‘Oh, that! I fell down the back step and on to the concrete. So, do you miss not writing your newspaper column?’

  ‘No, I couldn’t give a fig. I wouldn’t have time to do it when the baby’s born anyway.’ Distracted from the other’s abrasion, Oriel rubbed her huge abdomen, wearing a maternal smile.

  Dorothy smiled too. ‘I never thought I’d see the day. You’re obviously a lot more settled with Clive now, are you?’

  Oriel replied evenly, ‘Oh yes.’

  ‘Good, I’m glad you’re happy,’ came her friend’s sincere response, and she poured the tea.

  * * *

  Others were to echo Dorothy’s sentiment. Shortly before the expected birthdate Nat and his wife travelled down to Melbourne to stay at their daughter’s home. It was Bright’s intention to look after the house during those last few uncomfortable days, though there were other things to be dealt with too. For months she had been longing to converse with her son-in-law about the previous marital difficulty he had endured, but had been unable to do so. Now, Oriel’s incapacity made it possible for her mother to share an intimate chat with Clive whilst they were in the kitchen making tea and Nat was keeping their daughter company. She had felt sorry for the young man, wanted him to know that he had her support.

  ‘I’m glad everything’s all right between you two now.’ She stood before the grill, waiting for the crumpets to toast. ‘I knew it would be. Oriel’s very loyal, you know. I think part of the problem of her being… well, unsettled as she called it, goes back to her childhood. She’s all mixed up about men. It’s probably because her father wasn’t around when she was a child. Don’t mention it to Nat, he’d be terribly hurt, but I’m just telling you so you don’t feel as if it was all your fault. There’s nothing wrong with you, Clive, and Oriel’s obviously come to realize that. I’m really happy for you both.’

  ‘Now then you two, it looks as if there’s more than tea brewing in here!’ Nat had come in to enquire why things were taking so long, interrupting Clive’s show of gratitude.

  Bright turned to her husband, wearing a guilty smile, then removed the brown crumpets from under the gas flame. ‘Oh, we’re just putting the world to rights. Clive’s been talking about their new Labor Government in Victoria. He doesn’t think they’ll last long.’

  He took her word but had the niggling idea that his wife was keeping something from him.

  ‘Mother!’

  All three heads turned to the room from which the cry emerged. Juggling the red-hot crumpets, Bright was the first to rush and investigate. Oriel stood there, legs apart and indicating her sodden chair. Her mother took instant charge of her, ordering Clive to telephone the midwife.

  It was Oriel’s mother, too, who sat beside her throughout the groaning nocturnal hours of agony, her mother who first cradled the newborn infant in her arms at sunrise.

  Clive was an easy-going fellow but it was an important occasion in his life and he could not help feeling pushed out by this interference, was acutely jealous as he stood in his own bedroom watching his daughter being held by her grandmother before he himself had even had a chance to see her. It was six o’clock in the morning. Consigned to the sofa he had barely slept. The midwife had just gone, giving the signal for him to go in and meet his child, but others had got there first.

  ‘Isn’t she just like your father?’ Bright was saying to her daughter, rocking and cooing. ‘What’re you going to call her?’

  ‘Jennifer Bright,’ announced Oriel.

  Clive wondered when she had decided this but remained silent in the background.

  Aching from her labour, Oriel lifted adoring eyes from her child to behold the men standing behind her mother, and noticed the young father’s expression. ‘Here, come and hold her.’

  ‘No, no, I’m not bothered.’ He pretended not to care and made to leave the room. ‘I’m off for something to eat.’

  Bright, still smiling at the compliment bestowed upon her, turned and regarded him with hurt surprise on her daughter’s behalf. Oriel knew what had provoked his churlishness but was too elated and in love with her child to care.

  Nat moved closer to the bed, stopped to examine his granddaughter. ‘Mm, I reckon she’s like her mother.’ He hovered for a respectable length of time then said, ‘I’m a bit peckish an’ all. I think I’ll go and join meladdo.’

  Bright offered a tentative question. ‘Where will you have her baptized?’ When the new mother looked awkward, she said, ‘Oh, I didn’t think you’d be having her done in a Catholic church! I was just wondering that’s all. But, you’re right. Better not to rock the boat when things are going so well.’ But I’m sure my mother would never understand, she sighed inwardly.

  Nat found Clive in the kitchen though there was no food being prepared. The look on his son-in-law’s face told all. Nat was unsure what to do and so looked out of the window, noting the sparkle of frost on the bare branches. ‘By, I’m really feeling the cold down here. Funny, isn’t it, what you get used to?’ When the other offered a monosyllabic response he changed tack.

  ‘Jennifer, eh? What made you call her that?’

  Clive gave a petulant shrug. ‘Ask Oriel
. It was nothing to do with me.’

  Much as Nat did not care for the young man’s sarcastic streak he empathized on this occasion, offering awkwardly, ‘Eh, women and their babies. Makes you feel a bit like the proverbial at the wedding, doesn’t it? Is it all right if I make a pot o’ tea?’

  ‘If you like. I’m off to tell Mum and Dad they’ve got another granddaughter on my way to work.’

  ‘Oh aye, they’ll be wanting to come and see her.’

  ‘Yes, if they’re allowed anywhere near,’ muttered his son-in-law, and departed.

  * * *

  Once Oriel’s parents had gone, however, and Clive was able to reclaim his own domain he allowed himself to become enamoured of his daughter. So too did Oriel but alas it was to the exclusion of all others. She adored her baby, had fallen totally in love with her, spent every hour of the day singing to her and cosseting her. At night she was so tired from attending the baby’s needs that she went to bed early and was asleep by the time her husband climbed in, so escaping any advances he might make. Feeling excluded he began to go out alone on an evening again.

  The emotions Oriel held were conflicting. She did not really miss him, but since Jennifer’s birth the euphoria she had felt during her pregnancy had begun to drain away. She was feeling vulnerable and weepy and had no one near at hand to turn to apart from Dorothy, who unfortunately at the moment was on holiday visiting Cuthbert’s relatives. Melinda was a two-hour journey away. Besides, Oriel’s visits there had tailed off recently. In the recognition that her longing for Daniel could never be assuaged, she had decided not to think about him, to devote all her tenderness to her baby – yet, there were days when she desperately needed contact with another woman, and today was one of them.

  Thora was the last person who would normally have fulfilled her requirement, but when Oriel saw this familiar face in town, she gave a friendly smile and parked her pram alongside to chat.

  Clive’s sister was unusually amicable. ‘And how’s little Jenny doing? She certainly looks a picture of health. Not like this one.’ She pointed to her own pram. ‘She’s a horrible little wretch, she really is. Won’t talk, just points to what she wants. I’ll do you a swap if you like.’

  ‘I don’t think you’d want her smelling as she does at the moment. She always manages to save it for when we’re on the train to town.’

  Oriel grinned and felt a new affinity with Thora, an obligation to make an effort to befriend Clive’s sister. Now that she was a mother herself she could understand things that had hitherto been a mystery, realized how much she had hurt Thora in the past by not showing any interest in her child. How could she make up for previous antagonism? Everyone had given her baby money. It was the thing people did with children.

  Feeling warm, she delved impulsively into her purse and handed a coin to Thora with a smile. ‘Here, put this in her moneybox.’

  It drew an immediate retort. ‘I don’t want your money!’

  Oriel’s smile froze. She was so astonished to receive this discourtesy in the face of her friendship that she could think of no response, and tried to muster some chitchat that would help fight the tears that threatened, whilst dropping the coin back in her purse.

  Thora, seemingly unaware of her own rudeness, continued blithely, ‘Are you going to Mum and Dad’s on Sunday?’

  ‘Probably.’ Oriel kept her eyes lowered, urging the tears not to spill over whilst tucking her purse under the pram covers. ‘Are you?’

  ‘No, we’re going to Bill’s parents.’

  Good, thought Oriel. I hope you have an accident on the way, you and your bloody snotty-nosed little Angela Rose. ‘Oh well, I’d better go, I suppose.’ Casting a sideways glance at Thora she pushed the pram away.

  ‘Give my love to Clive!’

  ‘I will.’ Cow! Oriel found it hard to concentrate on her shopping, Thora’s insult ringing in her ears. In her mind she invented all sorts of curt ripostes; why could she think of nothing to say at the time?

  And why did the house feel so empty when she got home? She tried to read the newspaper. The year had seen great political change. The Labor ministry had lasted four months and now at its collapse Victoria had its first Country Party Premier – would he, the editorial demanded, be able to remedy the dreadful unemployment figures and industrial disputes? But Oriel’s newly maternal eyes saw only the dreadful amount of cruelty and murder in its pages that she broke down sobbing and put the paper under a cushion out of sight. A noise drew her to the window. The local children were home from school and had organized a game of football in the street. Sharing her father’s dislike of adolescent boys, she glared at them for a while, then tried to find something to do, but at every shriek of victory she came rushing back to the window to check that they were not about to hurl a ball through her window to injure the sleeping cherub who lay beside it.

  That evening during dinner Clive noticed that his wife had eaten hardly anything. ‘Are you off colour?’

  ‘What?’ Oriel looked dazed. ‘Oh, no. I’m just not hungry.’

  ‘You used to eat great piles when you were pregnant.’

  ‘I’ve never eaten haemorrhoids in my life.’ She managed a laugh. ‘No, I just feel so run-down. I don’t think I’ve ever felt as good as I did when I was expecting.’

  ‘Well, if you’re planning to have another let’s discuss it first. Don’t just go ahead and do it on your own, so to speak, like you did last time, without any discussion with me as if I don’t count.’

  She accepted this and said it might be nice to conceive another soon. The children would be more company for each other if they were close together in age. Clive acquiesced, and in no time at all Oriel was once again experiencing the wonderful contentment that pregnancy brought to this marriage. Fifteen months after giving birth to Jennifer, she had a son.

  This time there had been discussion over the child’s name. Clive had feared she would take over again and christen the boy after her father but no, she was quite amenable to his suggestions and it was eventually agreed that he would be called Dorian.

  Once again her parents came down from Queensland to attend the new arrival but were several hours too late for the actual delivery. On this occasion Oriel, feeling guilty after allowing Clive to be so pushed out over his first-born, made sure her mother did not hog the new baby quite so much.

  Her father, she noticed, required no such persuasion, in fact he hardly paid any attention to his grandson at all. Tears pricked her eyes as he gave a cursory grunt at the newborn in its mother’s arms, then spun away from the bed to turn his attention back to his younger daughter. ‘Where’s our little Jenny Wren, then? We’ve come to play with her, haven’t we, Vicky?’

  The six-year-old nodded. Educated at home by her mother it was not often she had anyone smaller than herself with whom to play.

  Clive saw the sparkle of brine in his wife’s eyes and felt intense dislike of this man who, in his opinion, was responsible for Oriel’s neuroses. ‘My mother’s taken her out of the way for a while.’

  Nat looked disappointed and found no consolation in his grandson as his wife seemed to do, though Vicky returned to her elder sister’s bedside to gaze in fascination at her baby nephew.

  Still holding her son, Oriel busied herself with the pile of letters that had been delivered to her bed. ‘This one’s from Mel! She had another little boy last week. Oh, that’s nice, isn’t it? They’re calling him Albert. We’ll have to go and see them when I’m on my feet.’

  ‘That’s three lads they’ve got, isn’t it?’ Nat rolled his eyes. ‘I wouldn’t like to be in their shoes. Cooking up a lot o’ trouble for theirselves in a few years’ time. Spud’s daughter keeps churning ’em out like chips, by all accounts.’

  This news had accompanied the latest money order from his friend who, to Nat’s amazement, had not ruined the business but was doing very well. He cocked his head at the sound of the outside door, summoned Vicky after him and went into the hall to find Clive’s moth
er and his granddaughter. ‘Ah, this is who we’ve really come to see – our little Jenny Wren!’

  Bright felt deeply sorry for her daughter but did not want to push those tears over the brim by uttering anything sentimental. Instead she patted Oriel and said, ‘I’ll give you two a bit of peace and go offer Daphne a cup of tea.’

  ‘Old sod,’ muttered Clive, coming to sit on the bed. ‘What’s he got against lads?’

  ‘He’s been one himself, he knows what they’re like.’ Oriel tried to smile and gazed down upon her son who, having just been fed, looked lazy and contented and wore a trickle of milk on his lower lip. ‘But I don’t think we need to worry about Dorrie taking after his grandfather – he looks just like you.’ She nuzzled the tiny crumpled face, addressing her words to her son. ‘And he didn’t cause half so much trouble getting here as his sister, no he didn’t!’ Eager not to exclude the child’s father she stopped cooing and kissing and passed her bundle over. ‘Here, have a cuddle.’

  Clive folded his son in his arms, beaming down at him. ‘It’s nice to have somebody who’ll let me cuddle them.’

  Choosing to ignore the double-edged remark, Oriel merely watched the pair and shifted on the mattress, trying to ease the weight on her sore posterior.

  The father chuckled as his baby yawned and then stared up at him with navy-blue eyes. ‘He’s really wide awake, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, we’re both a lot less battered and weary than last time.’ Her labour had only lasted four hours in all. ‘I felt really close to him straight away.’

  He gave a warning smile. ‘Don’t let the other one hear you say that.’

  Oriel heaved a sigh. ‘I don’t mean I feel closer to him than Jenny, I couldn’t feel any closer than I do. All I meant was the birth didn’t wear me out so much this time and I was able to take more notice.’ Bloody idiot, her mind condemned him, don’t you ever listen to anything I say?