Other thoughts and responsibilities kept leaping into her head. ‘I know you think all this is my father’s fault but I’d ask you not to write and say anything. I’d like to break the news myself.’ When he nodded, she cast a tortured gaze in the direction of the kitchen, and said, ‘I may have to come back to collect some things later. I’ll just go and say goodbye, then I’ll be off.’ Managing to hold back her tears this time, she took leave of her son and daughter, telling them she would be back to visit in a few days. On her way out she pulled off her wedding ring and put it into her bag, before returning to the dilapidated cottage. Only then did she break down, howling and wailing like a demented beast, rocking back and forth, her whole body racked by agonized sobs until her misery finally erupted in a violent gush of vomit.
* * *
Thus, the joy of meeting Daniel that noon was tarnished, for he too had endured this heartbreak. She read it in his eyes long before he saw her, eyes that gazed emptily at the busy lunchtime traffic as he waited for her under the clocks. Upon her quiet greeting, he spun and immediately took her in his arms, gripping her as though his life depended on it, and Oriel responded in similar fashion.
Without another word, she took his hand and led him to the place that was to be their home, and here they fell into each other’s arms, half insane with passion, unleashing the human and spiritual need that both had repressed for so long. Thereafter, sublime in their union, they lay entwined beneath the flaking ceiling, embraced each other with their eyes, gave tender kisses, stroked and soothed and loved – but there was pain too, dreadful agony, as Daniel spoke of the wrench of leaving his children and Oriel revealed that she, too, had suffered thus.
‘I can’t tell my parents,’ she wept into his bare shoulder. ‘I know I’ll have to tell them some time but not right now. I just don’t know what to say. All the things I threw at my father for abandoning me when I was a baby and here I am abandoning my own children.’ Her body shook.
‘But you’ll get them back.’ Equally distraught, he smoothed the hair from her wet cheeks, but in his mind was the permanent image of his own children’s faces as he had said goodbye. ‘Things’ll never be the same with mine. I left their mother everything I had, the car, money, everything, so they wouldn’t suffer materially but it’ll make no difference to how they feel.’
Such misery could not continue. Tears abated, Oriel wiped her face on the sheet and sighed. ‘My mother thought I was mad when I wanted to leave him years ago. Her opinion was everything to me. It never occurred to me that she could be wrong. But I still can’t bring myself to write and tell her.’
He used his thumb to wipe away one of the tears she had missed. ‘Is there any chance of her coming down from Queensland and taking you by surprise?’
‘I hope not, I said we wouldn’t be going for a holiday this summer and she said she didn’t know if she had the energy to come down to Vic. She won’t know unless Clive writes and tells her. I asked him not to. If I keep answering her letters and sending photos of the children she won’t be any the wiser.’
‘Any strife from Clive’s family?’
‘No.’ She recalled the polite scene with Daphne in town. ‘Just a few funny looks from my neighbours, but I couldn’t give a damn what they or anyone else might say. I think I’ve served my sentence. People like us, we have no hope of gaining their understanding. We haven’t lost our children in an earthquake or a flood, we’ve left them deliberately. At least you have a choice, they say. Well it must be very nice to be so practically minded, to know just where your feet are going to land before you’ve even taken a step. Most people don’t consciously set out to hurt others, it’s a matter of accident. It’s easy to condemn when you’re not involved. I’m as guilty of that as the next person. I hope I’ll be a bit less quick to judge now before I have the facts – and if he’s so bloody perfect why aren’t I still living with him?’
She laughed then and hugged him. ‘Oh, sorry for going on like this. I’m just letting off steam. It’s usually poor Dorothy who hears my woes. Doubt whether I’ll see very much of her now. I feel rather guilty that I’ve escaped and she’ll be stuck with Cuthbert for the rest of her life. He hits her, you know. But try as I might I can’t persuade her to leave.’ After a moment she asked softly, ‘Did you know Mel came to see me?’
Daniel nodded. ‘Not till she came back, though. Sorry.’ He stroked her arm thoughtfully. ‘It’s like the bloody Eureka Stockade up there. She’ll fight me over the divorce, says if she can’t have me then nobody else will.’ As if to deny this, he kissed her.
Oriel savoured the mouth she had desired for so long, imbibed deeply of his spirit, then drew away and sighed. ‘I can’t help feeling we’re going to pay dearly for this.’
‘Didn’t you know? We’re going straight to Hell.’
She asked if his parents knew. He laughed, the vibrations passing through her own body. ‘I can’t win. They haven’t spoken to me for years because I married a Protestant and now they won’t own me ’cause I’m living in sin with a woman who’s married to somebody else!’ He snorted and tightened his embrace on her. ‘Ah, who cares? There’s plenty of other things to worry us – like me having to find a job, and I won’t find one by lying here.’ Delivering a quick kiss, he scissored his legs and jumped out of bed.
Sublime of face, Oriel looked on as he wandered naked to where he had dropped his clothes on the floor, enjoying the opportunity to study his male form, neither abashed nor guilty. ‘I suppose I should get a job too. I’ve used most of the fifty pounds I had saved.’ She told him all about the episode in the bank and everything else that had happened since Wednesday. ‘I’ve just been spending all my time cleaning this place. I can’t understand how there could be any bugs left but I still wake up with bites.’
‘They’ll be living behind the wallpaper. I’ll have a go at stripping it off later.’ By this time he was dressed and perched on the bed. ‘Ah well, she’ll be right. Fancy a cuppa tea?’ He pressed her back on to the mattress. ‘Stay there, I’ll make it.’
‘I can’t, I feel decadent.’
‘Oh yeah, real Sodom and Gomorrah stuff. Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty lined up for you this arvo. After we’ve had this cuppa you can come and help me find a job.’
* * *
The light-hearted mood that accompanied their departure had evaporated by the time they got home several hours later. After registering at the Government Employment Bureau, Daniel had toured numerous timber yards and sawmills, but none had any vacancies.
‘Be buggered,’ he told her as they relaxed on the sofa, removing from her feet her high-heeled shoes, and rubbing her blisters. ‘It doesn’t have to be a timber mill. I’ll take anything. I’ll go out again tomorrow.’
Between kisses, she reminded him that tomorrow was Sunday. ‘I’d like to go and see Jen and Dorrie. I haven’t explained about you yet.’
Daniel admitted this would be difficult and said he would stay at home out of the way.
In the event it was academic for when she arrived in North Brighton it was to find that Clive had taken the children out himself. Oriel returned home, forced to content herself with the knowledge that she would be collecting them from school the next day, and spent the remainder of the afternoon helping Daniel strip off wallpaper.
Monday brought little joy on the work front, an entire day’s search of the city producing nothing more than aching feet. Plucked from the security of her comfortable lifestyle, Oriel now began to notice the inordinate amount of men loafing against verandah posts and around billiard rooms, and came to realize the seriousness of the unemployment situation that had hitherto been merely a statistic. The declining export figures that she had always skipped over in the newspaper now took on grave meaning. Her father had been proved right, though it was possibly much worse than he had forecast. The country was in the grip of depression.
The children were pleased to see her, though, when she collected them from school. Their father had give
n reminder that Mother would be coming to meet them and take them home. However, Oriel could tell from their excited chatter that they took this to mean she would be staying.
‘I can only stay till Daddy gets in,’ she explained gently, whilst giving them tea. ‘I haven’t found another house for us yet – but maybe next week.’
‘Will Uncle Daniel be coming to live there too?’ asked Dorrie, pushing a small toy car up and down the tablecloth.
Oriel was shocked and angry with Clive for divulging this, but tried not to show it. ‘Well – yes, he is actually.’
‘Daddy told Nanna Widdowes you left us and ran off with Uncle Daniel,’ accused Jennifer. ‘I don’t want him to live with us. I hate him.’
Oriel wanted to weep. ‘But you liked him before.’ Daniel had always been popular with her children.
The little girl was insistent. ‘He took you away. I hate him.’ Her teeth mutilated a slice of cake, spilling crumbs everywhere.
‘He hasn’t taken me away! Even if I can’t live with you at the moment, I’m still your mummy.’ Receiving no response, Oriel’s miserable eyes moved to her son. Dorrie said nothing, didn’t even look at her but kept on playing with the toy car. Normally he would not have been allowed to do this but guilt demanded Oriel not to rebuke him. ‘Uncle Daniel’s not trying to take your daddy’s place. Even if he wasn’t coming to live with us Mummy wouldn’t be able to come back and live here.’
‘Can I get down now?’ asked Dorrie. When his mother gave permission, he said, ‘I’m going to make you a cake,’ and running to his toy box he took out anything that could be used as a mixing bowl and utensils. ‘First we put in some flour, then some, er, margarine, then some water, eggs, then some intelligent chocolate.’
Oriel leaned on her elbow, supporting her chin with her palm, trying to make her smile appear genuine.
‘You’re not supposed to put your elbows on the table,’ warned Jennifer.
‘Sorry – listen, it’ll soon be Christmas, what present would you like?’
‘A car,’ came Dorrie’s immediate request.
‘A doll’s pram,’ said Jennifer, then looked worried. ‘If we move house how will Father Christmas know where we are?’
Her mother said he knew where everyone lived. ‘Just to make sure we’ll write him a letter.’ She organized the children with paper and crayons, then sat back to watch as her little son, unable to write anything other than his name, drew a picture. Later, she gave them an early bath and read them stories until their father got home, at which point she took on a slightly agitated air, kissed each goodbye, gathered together their letters and said she would post them on her way home.
That night, reading Jennifer’s note with Daniel at her side, she displayed sorrow over the little girl’s request. ‘She wants Father Christmas to take you back to Aunt Melinda.’
He rubbed her knee. ‘Mine are the same. You’re the Poison Queen as far as Alice goes. What about the little bloke?’
Oriel sighed and told him Dorrie had been inscrutable. ‘Usually he’s quite open – intuitive too; he knew my father wasn’t fond of him.’ Daniel had been aware of that problem all along and Oriel had also told him of the breakthrough in that area last winter. ‘But I just don’t know what he makes of all this.’
‘Poor little fella.’ The tanned face softened. ‘He’s just managed to establish himself in his grandad’s heart and now some bloke comes and steals his mother. He must’ve been knocked rotten by it – they all must.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘But, as they’d be quick enough to tell us, we’ve chosen.’
Oriel laid her head against his shoulder. ‘I think mine’ll come round. They always liked you, and they’re only little.’ This thought brought fresh tears. After wiping her eyes she added, ‘I told Clive I’d go early on Saturday and have them while he’s at work. Will you come with me?’ He said he would. ‘We’ll have another look for houses too. I don’t know what possessed me to rent this place. I was just so desperate. Before you came I felt as if I was going mad, I feel so guilty.’ She covered her mouth with a hand.
Daniel removed it and lowered his lips to hers, speaking in a warm, convincing tone. ‘Don’t worry, Kook, everything’ll be all right in the end.’
20
Throughout the rest of that week, which saw Oriel rushing to and from Brighton every evening, Daniel searched for work but to no avail. Determined to go out again on Monday, he accompanied Oriel to her weekend meeting with the children, waiting at the end of the street whilst she brought them to him. Despite Jennifer’s previous objections she was to put these aside when she saw the cut-out doll and its wardrobe of clothes that Daniel had brought her, and treated him as she always had done, with affection. Dorrie was more guarded. Though he accepted the cardboard glider, whenever Daniel spoke to him he answered only in monosyllables and was much less talkative than usual with his mother.
In general, though, the day was a success and before returning the children to their father Oriel told them she hoped that before too long they would all have a new house to live in.
However, after several repetitions over the following weeks, this promise began to sound false. There was still no house to rent in Brighton – even if there had been it was doubtful they would be able to afford it, for Daniel’s search for employment continued to be fruitless. To save money, Oriel had dragged her old bicycle out of the shed and though it now took a lot longer to make her daily visits to collect the children it was worth the effort just to see them.
‘I’d have loved to have had somewhere else by Christmas,’ she moped. ‘It’ll be murder knowing—’ Catching sight of Daniel’s face she bit her tongue and stroked him. ‘Well, I don’t have to tell you. What’re we going to do about presents for the children?’
Daniel had not wanted to think about this. ‘Don’t concern yerself about mine, I’ll make something.’ He felt bad enough having to pay maintenance out of the money Oriel had brought with her. It was no good asking any of his relatives for help, they were as poor as he and anyway, most of them had snubbed him.
‘I promised Jenny a doll’s pram and Dorrie a car before I knew we’d be strapped for cash. I’d hate to let them down.’
‘You don’t have to.’
She was glad he understood. Her children had never been used to going without. ‘It’d be money better saved though. I could kick myself now for blueing all that cash at the beginning.’ With the purchase of the furniture and other unnecessary acquisitions the fifty pounds had been whittled down to less than twenty-five and Christmas was going to take a big chunk out of that. ‘Oh, what am I talking about – Clive will surely agree to the children’s gifts coming out of the bank account. Though I doubt he’ll want to fork out for presents for my parents and Vicky. I’ll have to buy for them. If I don’t they’ll know something’s wrong.’
A lesser man would have pointed out that all their financial problems could have been solved by one simple cry for help to her parents, but Daniel knew Oriel as well as he knew himself. It was not mere pride that stopped her from revealing her dilemma but the sheer anguish that such a revelation would provoke. He watched her sympathetically.
Oriel had drifted away into her vivid imagination, experiencing the looks of horror on her parents’ faces when they discovered how she had failed them. The stigma of divorce was bad enough, but what would be the extent of her mother’s shock when she learned that Oriel had abandoned Jennifer and Dorrie – albeit temporarily? Bright worshipped her grandchildren. Oriel worshipped her mother. She had come to care for her father’s feelings too. How would Nat react after all the contempt she had poured upon him in the past for his own desertion? And so, though it was true that a confession could solve their monetary problem it was far outweighed by her feelings of guilt and shame. She would leave it as long as she could – perhaps next week the house might be sold – but she knew that the longer she left it the harder it would become.
Returning to the present, Oriel sighed. Whilst her financial
needs might be overridden by other problems the money would have to come from somewhere. ‘Should we sit down with pen and paper and see how long our cash is going to last?’
Together they went over their expenditure, most of which went on the rent of fifteen shillings per week and the maintenance for Daniel’s children, a similar sum. Taking the gloomiest prediction that they might have to remain here for three months until her house was sold, they agreed that if they were frugal their cash would just about hold out.
‘But I think we have to face it, Kooka,’ he told her. ‘I might end up having to go and grovel for me job back at Powelltown – if it’s still open to me. It’ll mean living apart all week, but what else can I do?’
Oriel recognized the necessity, but held on to him tightly. ‘Oh God, I don’t know what I’ll do without you!’
‘Rather that than the susso. Anyhow,’ Daniel returned the hug, ‘I’ll give it till after Christmas.’
* * *
Cards and gifts arrived from Queensland, plus a glorious ten-pound note that was meant to be shared with Clive.
‘We know you like stylish things,’ wrote Bright, ‘and we can’t buy anything like that up here so we thought you could get yourselves something nice with this money.’
A beaming Oriel used two shillings of the bonus immediately by treating Daniel to a picture show. Yet, notwithstanding the delight over this, the clandestine visit from Dorothy and the support of Daniel’s friend Norm, the festive season was not so festive for the errant lovers. After delivering their gifts to their respective children – and in doing so being forced to endure the company of estranged spouses – each tried to pretend that it was not Christmas at all, but despite the fact they had each other, the closedown of the city spelled a nightmare for them, the final straw coming when a group of destitute youngsters gathered outside their front door to sing carols. By the second line, both of them had tears streaming down their faces and, unable to confront the carollers, they turned off the gaslamp in the pretence of not being home. It was a poor ruse, for the light had been visible from the street. There came another fervent rattle of the letter box, then a voice shouted through it, ‘Yer lousy baastards, we know yer in there!’
A Complicated Woman Page 48