Clive’s blue eyes turned apprehensive. ‘I think he wants changing.’
‘Give him back to me then.’ She had just taken the child into her arms when the bedroom door opened and Jennifer appeared around it, closely followed by her grandmother. ‘She wanted to come and see her mammy,’ explained Bright as the little girl toddled up to the bed arms upstretched and obviously put out by the sight of a usurper in her mother’s arms.
Oriel immediately handed the bundle back to her husband and dragged Jennifer on to the bed, smothering her in an affectionate embrace. ‘Oh, my big girl!’ She kissed and cuddled her then lifted her head to address her mother. ‘Dorrie needs his napkin changing, would you mind doing it, please?’
‘Of course not, I’m your mother!’ Bright held out her arms to Clive, then snatched them back with a look of concern. ‘Unless you want to do it?’ She had obviously learned from past mistakes.
‘Are you joking?’ He laughed and handed over his son. ‘I don’t want anything to do with that end. I’m off for a cup of tea.’ He left the women to their business.
Bright grinned at her daughter, then sat in a chair with knees apart, put the baby across her lap and proceeded to strip off the wet napkin. ‘Aw look, he’s like a little skinned rabbit!’ Smearing Vaseline on her grandson, she told Oriel of the dresses she had bought him. I looked all over for a present that was made here but could only find foreign rubbish. It’s the same with everything you try to buy – American, German, French, Japanese but no Australian. I wouldn’t mind if they were cheap but they’re not. I finally found something British. At least it’ll be properly made.’
She inserted a safety pin through terry towelling, conversation moving to the recent Federal Election which had occurred during Oriel’s labour. ‘D’you think you’ll get into bother for not voting?’ An act had made it compulsory to vote in a national poll.
Her daughter laughed. ‘What was I supposed to do – have Clive roll me down to the polling station between contractions like a barrel? I hardly think they’d have missed my little vote.’ A ninety per cent turnout had returned the Bruce-Page government to office.
‘No, don’t suppose so. I see they’ve ripped all the tramlines up from Point Nepean Road. Every time I come down here there’s something different – there! All done and dusted.’ Unable to resist the lure of baby flesh Bright hoisted him up to kiss a dimpled knee. ‘Couldn’t ye just eat him?’ she asked her daughter, who gave fond endorsement.
* * *
Indeed, Oriel fell deeply in love with her son as she had done with Jennifer before him, cuddling and pampering him. Never were two children so adored. Determined to give them the childhood that had been denied her by means of her mother’s drudgery, she abandoned housework in favour of play, bestowing upon them toys that she herself had loved as a child. In return, and much to her surprise, Dorrie brought a much needed stability to her marriage. She and Clive seemed to have more in common now, liaised quite amicably for the children’s sake, and Oriel even felt quite warm towards him. She found that going out together was not such a great ordeal as it once had been, could joke and laugh and share intimate moments as they had done five years ago, and any tribulation that might occur to disrupt this happy family life was shared between them.
Alas, it could not last. For all the family get-togethers and summer holidays, jaunts and picnics, the fact remained that Oriel was living with a man she did not truly love. And Clive knew it. For all she might assent to his physical demands, there was little joy for either of them except in their children.
No one was aware of it except the two of them. Oriel was certain of this by the way her mother greeted Clive so warmly upon their arrival in Queensland that summer.
‘Oh, I can see she’s looking after you!’ Waiting for them at the top of the verandah steps amid abundant foliage, Bright hugged Clive, the first to ascend, and remarked on how plump he had become in the months since they had last met.
Clive returned the warmth. ‘Yes, she hasn’t thrown me out yet!’
Oriel alone knew it was not simply a joke. Her father did not laugh but then he was unsociable with everyone. Almost everyone. Lower down the staircase and yet to be embraced, she smiled as he swept Jennifer off her feet. But the smile wavered when, after leaning over to kiss his daughter, he totally neglected the four-month-old grandson in her arms and instead marched off down the steps with one little girl in his arms and another at his heels, to show them his new chickens.
Bright herded them inside. ‘Come on, lunch is almost done. I’ll bet you’re ready for it, aren’t you?’
Oriel was more hungry for conversation, but replied that she was famished. ‘I’ll help you. Here, Clive, you hold Dorrie.’ Leaving him with their son, she joined her mother in the kitchen.
Later, when all were relaxing after a wonderful meal, Nat perused the newspaper that he had not had time to read that morning and announced, ‘Looks like you’ve come to t’right place, anyroad. I see they’ve had some pretty bad bushfires down in Vic.’
Along with her mother Oriel was at the table cutting out pictures from magazines and helping the two little girls to stick them in scrapbooks. ‘I didn’t see anything in our paper. It must’ve happened whilst we were on the way up here. Whereabouts?’
‘Gilderoy, Powelltown – that’s up near whosit’s place, isn’t it?’
Oriel’s hand had frozen on the scissors. ‘Has anyone been hurt?’ Her heart had started to pound.
‘Hang on, I’ll just read it.’ Nat was quiet for a moment whilst his daughter sat motionless, her mind urging him to hurry. In the tense silence her heart competed with the low rumble of the tide. ‘Two men, two women, three children—’
Bright gasped in sympathy, causing her son-in-law to emerge from his doze.
‘And twelve horses.’
Abandoning the scissors, Oriel was on her feet, a wild look to her eye. ‘We’ll have to go.’
Clive looked perplexed. ‘What’s that?’
His creased and bleary expression annoyed her. ‘Didn’t you hear? There’s been people killed at Powelltown.’
‘Does it mention Yarra Junction?’ He stretched and yawned.
‘No, but – it’s near!’ And Daniel worked up there. ‘We have to go.’
‘But we haven’t been here two hours!’ He turned watery eyes to his father-in-law. ‘Does it name the people killed?’ The other shook his head. ‘Well then, there’s not much point us trailing all the way back down there before we’re certain. We’ve hardly recovered from the journey up here. And what makes you think that out of hundreds of people it’s Melinda who’s the victim?’
Melinda? Oriel reddened and banished the picture of Daniel from her mind. Though sick with worry, she saw the wisdom to his words, and slowly began to resume her task, scissors snipping round the outline of a dog. ‘I suppose you’re right.’
‘Thank heavens!’ Nat put down his paper and grabbed his granddaughter as she toddled over to show him her scrapbook. ‘I thought I was gonna have to say goodbye to my little Jenny Wren just when she’d got here.’ A wail disturbed his concentration. ‘Oh, there’s that nuisance of a brother of yours! He can go if he likes, tell him.’
‘He’s hungry,’ muttered Oriel and, picking her son from his makeshift bed on the sofa, took him out into a bedroom to feed him, still worrying over the victims of the bushfire.
* * *
Even at the end of the holiday this thought was only put aside in order to concentrate on farewells to her parents and sister, who had accompanied them the thirty-five miles to the railway station.
‘It’s been wonderful to see you all,’ Oriel told them tearfully, as she hugged each in turn. ‘Oh don’t!’ she begged her mother, who had broken into sobs. ‘We’ll try and get up here again next year – if you’ll have us?’
Babe in arms, she took a last fond look, then stepped up into the train, Clive following with Jenny, and embarked on the tedious return to Victoria.
During the days that followed there was plenty of time to dwell upon her course of action. However, her plan of visiting Yarra Junction immediately she got home had to be postponed for the train from Albury did not arrive in Melbourne until two-thirty in the afternoon, missing the connection. There was an express at five but no return to the city. Exhausted from the journey and apprehensive over Daniel, Oriel was unable to sleep that night and so overslept the next morning. This did not matter to Clive, who was preparing to enjoy a last leisurely weekend at home before returning to work on Monday and was astonished at her proposal to visit Yarra Junction.
‘Aren’t you sick of travelling? I thought we’d have a lazy day round at Mum and Dad’s.’
‘I couldn’t sleep another night not knowing.’ Her insides still churned with uncertainty.
‘Pity they aren’t on the telephone.’ He sighed but fell in with her plans. ‘All right, let’s have an early lunch then – but the traffic might be bad at this time of day. I don’t know what time we’ll get there.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t meaning that! You go and have a nice afternoon at your mum’s. I’ll catch the half-past two train if I go straight after lunch.’ At breakneck speed she prepared a meal, then afterwards changed her blouse for a fresh white georgette one.
Clive watched her pack a bag with tins of salmon, fruit and jam. ‘Sure you’re not off on a trip up the Orinoco?’
She laughed. ‘I’ll be back tonight. But I know Mel will ask me to stay for tea and they haven’t much money. Can I leave Jenny with you?’
Still following her with his eyes as she collected napkins and other necessities to pack into the baby’s pram, Clive asked, ‘How’re you going to manage with that thing?’
‘I’ll shove it in a dog box. I’ll have to go – bye!’ She pushed the pram to the front door, kissing Jenny on the way.
Skimming over the pavements to the local station, she was lucky enough to find the train already there and people almost boarded. Seeking one of the carriages with wider doors she was just in time to manoeuvre the pram into the carriage before it glided away, and was to enjoy similar luck in catching her connection at Flinders Street. Flushed with anticipation, she heaved a sigh and sat back in her seat for the two-hour journey to Yarra Junction where, to her great joy, she found her friends safe and sound.
‘Oh, thank God!’ she cried as Melinda, seeing her from the window, came down the sloping path to meet her at the gate, Daniel following. Daniel, dear Daniel! What rapture filled her breast at the sight of him. ‘I’ve been worried out of my mind – almost came down from Queensland.’ Overcome by this release of emotion, Oriel dropped her bag and covered her mouth, urging herself not to cry.
Melinda was touched at this concern. ‘Aw, you poor thing, having your holiday spoiled like that! Here, let me hold the bub – aw, isn’t he sweet?’ She picked Dorrie from his pram and lingered by the gate in the brilliant sunshine, jiggling him in her arms. ‘And look at you, stranger!’ Her eyes took in the softer, wavier hairstyle, the elegant white blouse with its confetti-like circles of black suede. ‘Two kids and still as glamorous as ever. Isn’t she, Dan?’
‘Too right.’ He cocked his head and squinted at her. ‘Could yer just move over there to your left an inch or two? Stop! Right there, with the sun behind yer.’
A bemused Oriel fingered her double strand of beads, waiting for some compliment, but he just stood there – then gave a theatrical sniff and said, ‘That’s better. The sun was in me eyes.’
‘Oh, he’s a ratbag!’ All laughing, Melinda lashed out with her free hand. ‘After you’ve been so worried about him! He needs his backside singeing. Shouldn’t joke, I’m really lucky to still have him.’
She spent a brief moment telling Oriel about the dreadful fires, pointing out the blackened patches on the landscape, those parts merely singed imitating autumn colours. ‘Well, come in, Orrie, and have a cuppa. You’ll stay for tea?’
‘There’s only an hour and a half before the last train goes back to Melbourne,’ warned Daniel.
‘Time enough for tea!’ scolded his wife. ‘We’ll have it early. You will stay, won’t yer?’
‘Thank you.’ Oriel picked up her bag and followed Melinda into the house, Daniel behind her, his effect on her as electric as ever. What foolishness had deceived her into thinking she could bar him from her life just by distance? How could her heart be thumping at such a rate and yet her words be so evenly delivered? ‘I’ve brought one or two things. I didn’t want to land myself on you if you hadn’t had time to get anything in.’ She dumped them on the table, earning Melinda’s gratitude. ‘Can I just visit your necessary before I get any more liquid down me?’
‘You know where it is.’
Leaving the baby with her friend Oriel exited through the back door. When she returned only a few minutes later Daniel was no longer present. The effect was devastating. Melinda saw her friend’s eyes tour the room expectantly. ‘Dan’s had to go out to see a mate – couldn’t get out of here fast enough. Don’t think he fancies the idea of sitting listening to two women clucking all afternoon. I tried to make him see how rude it is of him to walk out after you’ve been so worried about us and took the trouble of coming up here to make sure we were safe, brought us all these lovely things, but he wouldn’t have a bar of it. Blokes! Still, we’ll have a better time without him, won’t we? Sit down and tell me all your news!’
* * *
When a subdued Oriel arrived home at half past nine Clive had fed their daughter and was just about to go and run her bath water. ‘Oh, here’s your mum come and caught us out! We wanted to stay up late to see you, didn’t we, Jen?’
‘Mummy bath me,’ said the nineteen-month-old child.
Exhausted, Oriel laid the sleeping Dorrie on a chair, barely able to cope with the effort of speaking. ‘I think we’ll forget about the bath tonight.’
Clive frowned. ‘Nothing’s happened to your friends, has it?’
‘No, they’re all fine.’ She rested one buttock on the chair arm.
‘Told you they would be – she doesn’t sound too happy about it, does she?’ Clive joked to his daughter.
‘I’m just so worn out.’ Oriel rubbed her forehead. Daniel, Daniel, why couldn’t you have stayed?
‘I told her not to go straight after that long trip, didn’t I?’ Clive asked Jennifer. ‘But would she listen?’
‘Come on then, Snugglepot.’ Oriel bent and kissed her little dark-haired girl. ‘Let’s get you put to bed and I can sit down.’
‘Don’t I get one of those?’
Dealing him a light kiss she got on with her task.
Later, after reading Jennifer a few pages of The Gumnut Babies and tucking her in bed, and the baby in his cot, she slumped exhausted in an armchair. ‘Oh, my legs. I haven’t even got the energy to put a record on.’
Her husband had recuperated somewhat. ‘What do you want, Gladys Moncrieff?’ When she said she didn’t mind he took a large record out of its paper sleeve and placed it on the turntable, then went to relax in a chair. ‘It’s too late for me to go anywhere now. I’ll make do with Gladys tonight.’
‘What d’you think about getting a wireless?’ Her query held little enthusiasm, designed only to take her mind off other things. ‘I’ve seen a nice one for ninety pounds.’
‘Ninety quid? Phew! I’ll bet they’ll be down to a third of that in a couple o’ years when they’re not so newfangled. Same happened when I got my car.’
‘I just thought it might be a change from the gramophone, seeing as I’m in the house most of the time.’
‘Well, whose fault is that? I offer to take you out but you won’t come.’ It was uttered with a laugh but there was criticism behind it.
‘I didn’t mean you won’t take me out.’ Oriel was sullen. ‘I don’t particularly want to go out after I’ve been looking after the children and the house all day.’
‘I’m glad somebody gets some attention round here,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Oh, get a wire
less if you like. It would be rather good – but why does everything you want have to be so expensive?’
Oriel knew that he considered her to be shallow and ostentatious for surrounding herself with such luxurious items, when all she was really trying to do was create an oasis that would take her mind off the cruelty and sordidness of the world, and her own unhappy marriage.
The dialogue fizzled out. He picked up a newspaper and held it right in front of him. Oriel could not see him picking his nose but knew from experience that he was doing so from the way the pages trembled.
Irritated, she said in an effort to distract him, ‘I think I might go to the art gallery next week.’
The paper came down revealing a suspicious face. ‘What’s made you suddenly want to go there?’
She noticed to her disgust that he was still raking his nostril. ‘No particular reason. I just feel like going.’
The distaste must have shown in her expression for, realizing what he was doing, he pulled out his handkerchief and wiped his fingers. ‘Yes, but you’ve never shown any inclination to go all the time we’ve been married.’
She frowned. Gladys was singing the same line over and over. Seeing that Clive was not about to correct it she heaved herself from the chair and went to examine the gramophone. ‘This record’s cracked.’
‘Jenny’s been using it as a plate for her doll. You were talking about the art gallery.’
She sighed and put on another record. ‘I just saw a poster, when I was waiting for the train, advertising an exhibition of local artists. I thought it might be enjoyable, that’s all.’
He turned his mouth down and went back to the paper. ‘You go if you want to.’
As the tune came to its end he folded the newspaper, put it aside and went to put on another record. ‘Do you want a cup of tea?’ Noticing that she was about to get up he said, ‘No, sit there, I’ll make it.’ And he went into the kitchen.
A Complicated Woman Page 39