A Complicated Woman

by Sheelagh Kelly

  ‘I’ll tell you about that in a minute – then I’ve been trying to get rid of this dreadful stink and nothing will shift it.’

  Dorothy flared her nostrils and bit into her sandwich. ‘I think the floorboards are impregnated. You’d better be careful, there might be bugs. Get some tins and shove the bed legs into them with a bit of kerosene.’

  ‘I haven’t even got a bed yet. And there’s a thousand and one other things I’ve got to do.’

  ‘Well, you don’t have to do them on your own.’ Still munching, Dorothy rolled up her sleeves. ‘That’s what I’ve come for. It’s the least I can do after what Cuddy said.’

  ‘Bless you.’ Oriel embraced the other with her eyes. Under Cuthbert’s rule Dorothy had become more matronly than ever, in her grey dress looking fifty rather than the same age as her companion. In the space of ten years the majestic young woman had been displaced by a downtrodden housewife. But Oriel had never felt so affectionate towards her friend as now. ‘Instead of you helping me, it should be the other way around.’

  ‘I’m just glad that one of us is happy,’ said Dorothy, totally caught up in her friend’s romance. ‘Anyway, you were saying you need to buy a bed.’

  Oriel nodded. ‘Amongst other things. I’ll just buy the one, I can have the children’s beds moved in tomorrow, but then there’s linen, cutlery – all the things I’ve collected over ten years and now I’m having to set up house all over again.’

  ‘Why don’t you bring some of them from home? Clive won’t need all of them.’

  ‘Well, I might later, but I just need some essentials.’ Oriel crammed the last of the sandwich into her mouth and during the rest of their lunchbreak she told Dorothy about Melinda.

  Afterwards, feeling conspicuous and embarrassed at her dishevelled appearance, she went out to buy the items of furniture she required, leaving Dorothy to continue cleaning.

  Upon alighting from the tram in Elizabeth Street near the post office, who should she see coming towards her but Thora. Expecting to invite further malice, she braced herself, but as the other came nearer still wearing her smile of greeting she guessed that her sister-in-law must be unaware of the impending divorce – Clive was probably too ashamed to broadcast it. Thus, Oriel was nudged into mischief. As Thora slowed down, preparing to talk – had even opened her mouth – Oriel took great delight in marching straight past her without so much as a greeting. The look of offence on her sister-in-law’s face was small revenge for past hurts but it would have to do, for she doubted there would be further opportunity.

  It was ironic that in such a big city she was to see two people she knew in a matter of minutes. This one was more difficult to avoid. Even though Daphne had her back turned and was looking into a shop window there was no way Oriel could ignore all the many kindnesses she had received from Clive’s mother over the years. She tapped her on the shoulder and said hello. Daphne turned, smiling, and said hello too, no hint that she knew about Daniel. They engaged in chit-chat for a moment. No mention was made of Clive’s brief stay at his mother’s house.

  Then Daphne asked, ‘Is Clive going fishing on Sunday?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ How the hell should I know? thought Oriel. His movements are none of my concern. Hadn’t the fool told his mother that they were going be divorced? She got the suspicion that Daphne assumed that just because he had gone back to the marital home everything was sorted out. And Clive had obviously let her think that. Well, if that was how he wanted to play it was none of Oriel’s concern now. The mother would side with her son and that was how it should be. She curried no sympathy nor did she expect it. But she would have liked to have said thank you for the good years, for the way you welcomed me into your family, I’m sorry you’re going to be hurt, I truly am. But all she said to Daphne was, ‘Oh well, I’d better be going.’ It was all so very polite. So very English. Taking her leave, she was never to see Clive’s mother again.

  Mulling over the previous enactment as she walked along the busy street, she realized that Clive was not alone in his reticence. Did she not find it impossible to break the news to her own mother? How could she imagine it would be any easier for him?

  Shortly, other things were to preoccupy Oriel. Selecting a bedroom suite for twelve pounds ten shillings, instead of the seventeen guinea one she would have preferred, she also chose a sofa for five pounds twelve and six, a cheap table for one pound six and three, four chairs at nine shillings each, a rug for seven and six, plus a dozen sundry items. Having been fortunate enough to purchase all her requirements at the one department store, she asked that those things she could not carry be delivered this afternoon or tomorrow morning at the latest.

  She watched the bill being drawn up and added, ‘I’ll pay by cash once the goods are delivered.’ All these things would deduct a sizeable amount from her fifty pounds but there was no choice: her cheque book was now useless.

  ‘Very well, madam.’ The counter clerk performed his addition, then asked, ‘Could I have your husband’s name, please?’ She frowned and asked why this was necessary. The clerk remained polite. ‘I have to put it on the bill.’

  ‘You can put my name on the bill.’

  ‘I’m afraid that won’t be sufficient, madam.’

  Oriel felt her temper rising. ‘May I enquire why, when it’s I who am paying the bill – a considerable bill, might I point out to you.’

  The clerk was about to argue his case, when Oriel snapped, ‘I don’t have a husband!’

  ‘My apologies, madam, you are a widow?’

  The reply was taut. ‘No, I am separated.’

  The clerk’s whole attitude altered, no longer bestowing the courtesy of a title. ‘I’m afraid my superior would frown on this.’

  Oriel fumed. ‘Very well! See what your superior thinks when I take my custom elsewhere.’ With as much dignity as she could muster she stalked out.

  But she was to find that it was the same at the next shop and all this arguing was taking time she could not spare. In the end she was forced to accept the humiliation and rather than grovel she lied, saying she was recently widowed, and the items she had ordered were loaded for immediate delivery.

  Upon her return she found that Dorothy had completed most of the chores which was just as well, for within the hour a furniture van rolled up with the bedroom suite, table and chairs, sofa, bedding and a box of pots and pans, giving the friends another frantic period of work before having to make the lengthy trip to pick up the children. After a quick gulp of tea from the flask, the dishevelled women left the house together. Dorothy made little comment about the immediate vicinity but Oriel knew what she was thinking.

  ‘Not much garden, is there?’ There was a strip three feet wide beneath the front window.

  Dorothy was cheerful. ‘You don’t need a garden, you’ve got the park and the zoo—’

  ‘And horses somewhere, by the smell of it,’ said Oriel.

  ‘And you’re only five minutes from town,’ finished the other. ‘There are a lot worse places than this.’

  Having witnessed the housing her father’s tenants had had to endure, Oriel knew this to be right. It was just such a comedown from her own lovely home. ‘Let’s hope Jenny and Dorrie agree with you.’

  Catching the same train, they travelled all the way together. Not until the school disgorged its seething mass of elves did Dorothy take her leave. ‘Good luck, old pal. I don’t know when I’ll be able to call on you again but I’m sure you won’t need me when you’ve got Daniel. She smiled and left, carrying her friend’s eternal thanks.

  Oriel and her children made the thirty-minute journey back to the city and Parkville, where she introduced them to their new residence.

  The house might be a lot more habitable than it had been that morning, but it was incommensurate with Jennifer and Dome’s idea of home.

  ‘Where’s all the furniture?’ The little girl wrinkled her nose as her mother showed her through the rooms. All that was to be seen in the living ro
om was a small hearth rug on bare boards, a sofa, a pine table and four chairs; a bed, a wardrobe and a dressing table in another room, and a food safe in the tiny insalubrious-looking kitchen.

  ‘I haven’t had time to get much yet. Here!’ Oriel handed out glasses of lukewarm milk and Vegemite sandwiches, which cut down on the questions for a time, but after these were consumed and the light was beginning to fade, plunging the house into gloom Dorrie said, ‘When are we going home? I want my daddy.’

  He looked as if he were going to cry. His mother picked him up and cuddled him, breaking into chant. ‘“Ching Chang Chinaman bought a penny doll. Washed it, dressed it, called it Pretty Poll. Sent for the doctor, the doctor couldn’t come. Because he had a pimple on his—”’

  “Bum bum, bum!” yelled the two children, laughing.

  ‘Come on, get your nighties on and I’ll read you some stories before bedtime.’ Their mother visited the little pile of books and toys then, sitting on the sofa, she beckoned them to her. Perhaps now was the time to tell them that Uncle Daniel would be living with them. But try as she might it was hard to broach.

  ‘Aren’t we having a bath?’ Jennifer watched her mother assist Dorrie with his pyjama bottoms and comb his hair.

  ‘Not tonight.’ Oriel did not want to tell them there was no bath. ‘I don’t care if you pong.’ Planting smacking kisses on their cheeks, she took a child under each arm. Then, in the yellow glow of gaslight, read them a favourite tale before guiding them through the dingy passageway and tucking them up on the new bed with its fresh sheets, the one she had bought for herself and Daniel.

  They were afraid to go to sleep and so she had to climb in with them, intending only to stay a while but with the exacting day and the comfort of their small bodies she fell into a doze and when she awoke it was to pitch-darkness. Unwilling to get up and undress in case she disturbed the children, she closed her eyes and went back to sleep.

  Upon rising at first light, all were covered in red bumps. Pretending these were mosquito bites, Oriel tried to soothe the itching as best she could with cold cream, then gave the children breakfast. With no refrigerator the milk was most unpalatable and when she tried to make toast a cockroach scuttled from the stove, making her yell out.

  ‘Do I have to sleep with him tonight as well?’ sulked Jennifer. ‘He kicks.’

  ‘No, I’ll arrange for your own beds to be brought round this afternoon,’ her mother told her, which met with little enthusiasm.

  With packs of sandwiches, they left the house at seven thirty, catching a tram to the city, then the train to North Brighton. Oriel wondered how long she would be able to keep this up. Apart from costing precious funds it was a fifteen-mile round trip twice a day. But until the situation grew desperate, she could not bring herself to rob the children of their school friends too.

  There were plenty of chores to tackle when she got home. None of the removal firms she contacted was able to transport the beds that afternoon and so she arranged for it to be done the next day. Then, no sooner was she entrenched in more washing and cleaning than it was time to set off to collect the children from school.

  Jennifer was tearful upon realizing that they would once again have to endure the austerity of the cottage. ‘I don’t like living here. I want to go home.’

  Her little brother was just as bad. ‘We’ve nothing to play with.’ When his mother reminded him of the toys he had brought with him he explained, ‘Yes, but we played with those yesterday.’

  Oriel swallowed her frustration. ‘Well, we’ll go and fetch some more tomorrow. Please be good and eat your tea, there’s nothing I can do at the moment. Maybe tomorrow we’ll find some children for you to play with in the park.’ She had still not told them about Daniel.

  Whilst they ate, she wandered to the window and stared idly up and down the street. An ambulance was parked across the road. She looked on as a man came out of a house carrying a small child, and she continued to watch until the doors of the ambulance had been closed and it was driven away.

  After eating their tea Jennifer and Dorrie persisted in whingeing. Oriel did her best to entertain them but eventually, fearful of losing her temper, she packed them off to bed.

  The next morning she was greeted with the sound of their whines about breakfast and finally snapped. ‘Look! I don’t want to be here either but we have to put up with it for the time being – now eat!’

  She wheeled away to the window, frowning as the sound of quiet weeping punctuated the miserable atmosphere. There was another van parked across the road where the ambulance had been yesterday. Its driver was just in the process of returning some equipment to it. With a jolt of recognition, Oriel watched him replace the instruments in his van. She had seen them once before when her own house had been fumigated after the outbreak of influenza. Her skin crawled – there was disease only yards away! Telling Jennifer to stop snivelling, she hurried outside and accosted the man, asking for information as to the nature of the disease within.

  ‘Dunno, missus, I’m only here to do me job.’

  She nodded and was about to return to her children when the householder came out and announced bitterly, ‘It’s meningitis!’ At Oriel’s blushing expression he added, ‘That’s what you were asking about, isn’t it? And you can tell the rest of the sticky beaks my boy’s dead!’

  Oriel’s heart went out to him, but there was terror for her own brood too. Uttering her sympathy she rushed inside and shut the door, leaning on it as if in a vain attempt to bar disease. Jennifer was still snivelling though the tears were forced. ‘I want to go home!’

  Oriel sank on to a chair, her heart plummeting too. Looking around that decrepit room and listening to her children whimper and scratch, she asked herself how she could be so selfish as to inflict this life on them, expose them to the risk of that awful disease. The poor little things had asked for none of this. The very thought of parting, even temporarily, induced the most agonizing sickness but Oriel knew in her heart she must restore them to safety until she could provide somewhere better for them to live. With a great shuddering sigh, she put her head in her hands, not looking at them as she spoke. ‘I’ll take you home if you want to go.’

  Jennifer cheered immediately. ‘Goody!’

  ‘But Mummy can’t live there with you.’

  ‘Oh, why not?’

  Oriel agonized, shamed by the memory of how hard her mother had ought to keep her, imagining how livid her father would be and what a hypocrite she herself was after all the names she had called him for deserting her in babyhood. No, you’re not deserting them, she told herself, you’ll get them back when you’ve the financial means.

  Trying not to cry, she answered, ‘Because… because, I just don’t want to live with Daddy. I love you both.’ Lifting her eyes, she looked into the two little enquiring faces then looked away quickly, but it was too late, the tears began to flow. ‘And I’ll come for you as soon as I—’ She broke off, unable to continue.

  The children wept too. Scooping them up, Oriel hugged and kissed them fiercely, one in either arm and continued to sob until the tears ran dry. Then, mopping all their faces, she sniffed and said, ‘I’ll come and see you as often as I can, and as soon as I’ve found a better house for us to stay in I’ll come and fetch you to live with me again.’

  ‘When will that be?’ Jennifer contorted her head, trying to wipe her eyes on the short sleeve of her summer dress.

  ‘Not long,’ Oriel assured her, reminding herself to cancel the transportation of their beds. ‘Now, come on, I’ll take you home.’

  ‘Aren’t we going to school?’

  ‘Not today, it’s Saturday.’ Upon all being properly attired, she hurried them from the house, hoping that their father would not yet have left for work.

  * * *

  Before Oriel had entered, Clive had been sitting alone, nursing his sense of bereavement. The look on his face when his estranged wife and children came into the house was one of dull suspicion. Whilst he return
ed the little ones’ greetings, Oriel acted with brevity. ‘I’ve had to bring them home for a week or two. The house I’m renting isn’t fit for them to live in.’ His only response was a dumb stare. ‘I wasn’t sure if you’d be at work.’

  He finally responded to her. ‘I’m not going back till Monday. Just as well, isn’t it?’

  Jennifer wrapped her anxiety in a mundane request. ‘Could we have a biscuit?’ At her mother’s reply both children ran off, competing to see who could get to the tin first.

  ‘I know it’s going to be difficult,’ continued Oriel when they’d gone. She took a deep breath. ‘But if I still come and collect them from school on an afternoon and get them ready for bed on a night all you have to do is see to them on a morning.’

  ‘And what about the school holidays?’ asked Clive. The children would be off from Christmas to the end of January.

  ‘Maybe your mother could help.’ Daphne only lived a couple of stops away on the train. ‘I’ll come and get them when I’m able.’

  Clive responded with customary sarcasm. ‘Yes, children do cramp your style a bit, don’t they? But don’t worry, I’ve nobody to impress.’

  ‘Neither have I!’ Oriel felt nauseated by her suppressed rage. ‘Don’t you understand, I’m doing this for their sake?

  ‘Well, I didn’t think you were doing it for mine.’

  ‘That place isn’t fit for rats.’ And that’s what I feel like, thought Oriel. The rat deserting the sinking ship. ‘But I’m looking out for somewhere else nearer their school. I’ll come and get them whenever I can.’

  He nodded. ‘They’ll be fine with me. I’m sure Mum’ll jump at the chance to take care of them.’ She’s a good mother, his tone seemed to imply.

  Oriel chewed the inside of her cheek. ‘We’ll have to sell this place. I can’t afford to buy a house of my own otherwise.’

  ‘If that’s a hint for me to let you and Daniel move in—’

  ‘Of course not.’ She tried to hang on to her temper. ‘I’m just saying, as you’re the one who lives here it’ll be up to you to show the real estate agents round.’ He said he would see to it. ‘Thanks. I should think it might take a while, three months or so.’