The Changing Room

by Christine Sykes

  That night, Claire’s mobile rang as she was sitting down with Anthony after a refreshing dip in their solar-heated outdoor pool.

  They were dining en plein air on the balcony off the living room with views of the dazzling blue crescent-shaped bay and its array of boats, the Harbour Bridge and the leafy city skyline. A soft breeze wafted scents of flowering frangipani their way as they helped themselves to salad, grilled prawns and wine from a bottle of pinot gris that was chilling in an ice bucket. Claire was delighted to see a lorikeet flitting between the grevilleas she’d planted several years before to attract native birds back to the area.

  ‘Sorry, darling, I meant to switch it off,’ said Claire, as she stepped into the living room to take the call. It was Jacqueline.

  ‘I’ve been given the job and I’m starting work on Monday,’ she told Claire. ‘Problem is, I don’t have anything to wear for a week.’

  ‘Congratulations, Jacqueline! Don’t worry, we’ll sort you out. Can you come in tomorrow?’

  Claire returned to skewering a prawn with her fork and listening to Anthony’s favourable opinion of the Richard Flanagan novel he’d just finished reading, as they basked in the afternoon’s warmth and softening light.

  *

  Within three months of opening, Suitability had a steady stream of client referrals, mainly from welfare organisations, job support agencies and migrant services. There was a volunteer roster that mostly worked, and a system to record the clothing that went in and out.

  ‘Claire,’ said Anthony, stacking the dishwasher after dinner one night, ‘why is our garage still full of clothes, and why are people leaving boxes of clothing on our lawn? You have premises.’

  ‘Yes, but it’s not big enough.’

  ‘Well, I’m tired of parking in the drive.’

  ‘Understandable,’ said Claire. ‘It’s been a lot to put up with.’

  ‘Okay, I’m going to talk the partners into making a tax-deductable donation so you can rent the second flat as a storeroom.’

  Claire smiled and they shared a kiss.

  4

  MOLLY

  Molly’s mobile phone pinged, waking her in the hospital bed with a start. A sharp jab of pain went through her chest when she reached for her phone and saw a Facebook reminder with the group family photo from the mall that had been taken on their second anniversary.

  Molly and Joe had taken the boys there to celebrate their wedding anniversary. The mall was festooned with Christmas decorations and the boys were wearing their best clothes. Molly was pregnant and wore a floral dress that she’d found at Vinnies. She was having an ultrasound the following week and was still hoping for a girl.

  Joe went from shop to shop buying treats. They had kebabs, sushi and squid. They sampled each dish and talked about how it was made and whether Molly could make it at home. Joe looked handsome sitting at the head of the table in the food hall. Molly felt her heart would burst with happiness and pride.

  Matthew got restless and wanted to look in the nearby toy store but Joe insisted he stay at the table with the rest of the family. A kick landed on Molly’s leg.

  ‘Matthew, stop it,’ she whispered.

  He kicked harder and rocked the table, spilling his cup of juice.

  Joe reached over and grabbed his arm. ‘Don’t treat your mother that way,’ he hissed. ‘She deserves your respect.’

  A week later, Molly found out she was carrying twin girls. She was ecstatic about having girls but worried about having two more mouths to feed. Unlike the previous pregnancies, Molly was sick and felt tired all the time. She fretted about how they’d manage with four children.

  ‘We’ll need a bigger place, y’ know,’ she said as they sat outside one night. Joe grumbled and went on tinkering with his bike.

  Molly tried to ignore the arguing she could hear from Joe’s parents’ house.

  ‘Did y’ hear me, Joe? We need a bigger place.’ Molly heard dishes crash in the kitchen and felt her frustration rising. ‘And we need to get away from here.’

  As Molly grew larger, she nagged more often. She wished she didn’t have to do all the worrying for them both and that he’d take more of the load. Joe rubbed his greasy hands on his jeans and shook his head.

  ‘I can’t keep workin’ all these hours at the takeaway. Ya gotta get a better job,’ Molly persisted. Joe gave her a nasty look. It was the same look she’d seen when Joe’s father abused him for sticking up for his mother.

  ‘Need some air.’ Joe rose, put away his tools and started up the bike.

  Molly was relieved when she heard the bike turn into the street several hours later, but she didn’t stop nagging, and complaining about the issues became a daily mantra.

  *

  When Joe arrived at the hospital on the second of July, he looked different. His hair was cut and he wore a shirt that covered his tatts. The boys raced into the room and clambered up onto the bed. Joe hung back.

  ‘What’s happened, love?’ asked Molly once she’d untangled the boys’ arms and settled them down. ‘Look at the babies; they’re gorgeous.’

  Joe’s eyes moved to the twins and back to the floor.

  ‘Joe, what’ve ya done?’ asked Molly as the fear rose in her throat.

  He shuffled. ‘What ya wanted,’ he said. ‘I sold me bike and got another job.’

  Molly felt her stomach lurch and one of the twins started to cry. ‘Ya sold yer bike? I never asked ya to sell the bike.’

  *

  Joe worked hard at his new job at a screw factory, earning good money by doing extra shifts. They found a cheap half-house to rent. It needed a paint job and was stinking hot in summer and freezing cold in winter, but it had a yard where Molly could grow vegetables and herbs while the kids played.

  She prepared dinner for Joe and made sure it was hot and on the table when he’d had his shower and kissed the kids good night. But he hated the job, was tired all the time, and slouched. He still went out with his mates on Friday nights, but usually came home early and watched telly.

  Molly convinced herself Joe’s work and their finances would soon improve. She did casual work at the takeaway when she could get Lindy to mind the children. She baked muffins, which she sold at the takeaway for extra cash.

  ‘It’ll only be a few years,’ she told Joe as he lay motionless beside her. ‘Then I’ll go back to work full-time and we can buy ya Harley back.’

  Molly was vigilant about birth control. Not that it mattered much, since Joe was too tired for it to be necessary. Molly was scared he’d find someone else, but he didn’t seem to have enough energy and never looked at other women when they were out shopping at the mall together. A year went by in a flash, though every day brought fresh challenges.

  *

  For their fourth anniversary, Molly decorated the garden with balloons and streamers she’d scavenged from other parties. She made fairy bread for the kids. She couldn’t bake anything because the oven had stopped working a month ago and the landlord hadn’t done anything to fix it, despite multiple entreaties. They didn’t want to push him because they were often late with the rent and they knew how hard it would be to find another place. Joe borrowed a barbecue from a mate and got some steak and sausages cheap.

  Molly’s grandma arrived carrying a cake with blue icing, which she explained was the colour for the fourth anniversary. Molly hadn’t spent much time lately with Grandma. She knew Grandma was struggling to keep her house tidy and she resolved to see more of her and give her a hand after Christmas. At least she’d managed to get Lindy, who was now a hairdresser and had her own car, to pick Grandma up from the station.

  Molly had also invited the mothers from the local playgroup and had even suggested to Joe that he invite some of his mates.

  It would be a warm enough day for the kids to enjoy the wading pool, so Joe filled it with water from the leaking hose. Molly had walked past it every time she went shopping, hoping the price would be lowered enough so she could afford to buy it. One
day, when there was no staff in the front of the store, she’d lifted the pool into the trolley, put her coat over the top and wheeled it away.

  Molly heard the familiar rumble of the bikes and Joe’s mates pulled up with cases of beer. They mocked him for being house bound, for having had his balls cut off and worse. He drank with them while Molly cleared away the leftover cake and collected the dirty plates. Lindy flirted with Joe’s mates who grew rowdier as their jokes got dirtier.

  The neighbour popped his head over the fence. ‘C’mon fellas, can ya keep the noise down?’ he called.

  ‘Shut the fuck up,’ yelled Joe’s mate Greg, ‘or we’ll come and shut ya gob for ya.’

  ‘If ya don’t quieten down, I’ll have to call the police.’ The neighbour’s head disappeared.

  The mothers quickly gathered up their children and left. Lindy made an excuse to leave and took Grandma with her.

  Molly tried to talk to Joe. He looked at her like she was a stranger.

  ‘What, yer a house mouse now,’ mocked Greg.

  ‘Come on, fellas. We’re not welcome here.’ Joe grabbed the beers and led the group out of the yard. He climbed on the back of one of the bikes and sped away, doing a wheelie before turning the corner.

  It was almost midnight when Joe returned, smelling of beer and drugs and sweat. Molly gagged.

  ‘Y’d better …’

  ‘Shut up,’ he said through gritted teeth. ‘I’ve had enough of ya tellin’ me what to do and what to be.’

  Molly shivered. ‘But, ya got work tomorrow, y’ need ta sl–’

  ‘I said, shut the fuck up. I got somethin’ t’ say an’ I’m only sayin’ it once.’

  Molly waited. Joe stood still, gripping his hands into tight fists.

  ‘I can’t stay here.’

  ‘Whatdya mean?’

  ‘I mean, I have ta go.’

  ‘Why? Joe, don’t go, don’t leave us. Ya love me and the kids, I know ya do.’

  His body shook and he took a deep breath.

  ‘That’s why I have ta go. Otherwise, I’ll break ya bloody neck.’

  Joe clenched and unclenched his hands. The blood vessels on his arms stood up. He took a step towards Molly, who stood firm.

  ‘Joe, no. We can work out any problems. Joe, I’ll do anythin’ ya want, just stay.’

  ‘I can’t. I’m not turnin’ into my father.’ He spat at her. Molly’s mind was a jumble of thoughts. Her throat felt tight and she took a gulp of air.

  ‘If ya need ta hit me, do it,’ she gasped. She turned her face sideways and waited.

  Joe seemed to fill up with energy as he grabbed a bag and threw some of his clothes in. He pulled out his wallet and emptied all the notes onto the kitchen table. He went into the bedroom and looked at the kids. Molly moved to the bedroom door, blocking Joe’s way. He pushed her aside.

  When Molly fell to the floor her head hit the bedside table with a loud crack. She heard the front door slam, then crawled into bed and waited for Joe to return.

  The next morning, Molly woke to feel Matthew poking the cut over her left eye. He had climbed onto the side of the bed where Joe usually slept. Joe hadn’t come back during the night. Molly got up blearily and checked on her son Daniel and the eighteen-month-old twin girls, who were still asleep in the next room, before returning to bed.

  ‘It’s all right, sweetie,’ she said to Matthew. ‘Silly Mummy fell. Here, give us a cuddle before breakfast.’

  *

  ‘Sorry, Moll,’ Joe said through blurry eyes. He’d been gone two days and no amount of ringing and leaving messages on his mobile had produced a response. It was after 8 pm and Molly had finished putting the four children to bed.

  ‘Dunno what got inna me.’

  ‘Don’t you eva leave me and the kids again,’ Molly pleaded through sobs.

  ‘I won’t, I promise on me mum an me kids’ lives, and even that old Bible ya nicked from the hotel.’

  He ran his finger over the wound on her head.

  ‘Sorry for pushin’ ya.’

  ‘It’s OK. It was an accident.’

  ‘Still, I shouldna done it. I’m not me dad.’

  ‘Ya terrified me, Joe.’

  ‘I know, love. Promise I won’t go out drinkin’ ever again. Anyway, here’s a tenner.’ He chucked a ten-dollar note on the table.

  ‘Oh Joe, thank god y’ came back to me. It’s all that matters. An’ I love ya, Joe.’

  ‘Yeah? Well how ’bout a feed then?’ said Joe, with something of the old twinkle in his eye.

  Molly cooked some rice and a bit of cabbage for him, which he doused in soy sauce. He farted loudly and went to bed, leaving Molly to clean up after him, as usual. She was happy to do it. The next day Joe slouched off to work and came back barely acknowledging the children or Molly, except to tell them what to do in order not to bother him.

  Less than two weeks later his mates convinced Joe to join them, just for one drink to celebrate Greg’s birthday.

  He came home late and drunk. Molly was sitting in the kitchen eating. She’d eaten the dinner she’d prepared for Joe. She also ate his favourite chocolate-coated bullets and a packet of marshmallows, which she’d snuck into the shopping bag. The empty packets of sweets were on the table when he staggered in through the door.

  ‘You stupid, fat pig.’ Joe upended the table.

  Molly didn’t have time to get out of the way and the table fell on her, knocking both her and the chair backwards. He came towards her and she held up her hand, expecting him to help her up. Instead he grabbed her arm and wrenched it. Molly screamed and the children woke. Joe clenched his fists and moved towards their bedroom.

  ‘Don’t hurt the kids, Joe,’ Molly cried. ‘It’s all my fault, I’ll do anythin’ ya want.’

  ‘Just git outta my sight.’

  A neighbour called the police, but when they turned up, Molly denied Joe had hit her.

  Molly slept on the floor of the kids’ room. When she woke next morning, Joe was gone.

  He came back a few days later full of remorse, and again Molly forgave him. But he’d lost his job and for the following week moped about the house wearing the same black tracksuit, which he refused to change out of.

  The kids whinged all the time. Molly became desperate when Joe didn’t have enough money to buy Christmas presents for them.

  *

  ‘I didn’ mean to steal,’ said Molly at a supermarket on the other side of town. ‘I’m not a thief, ya know.’

  ‘Whadya call this then?’ asked the security guard. He lifted a bunch of leafy vegetables from the top of the trolley.

  Molly looked at the presents for the kids: an electric toy car for Matthew, a dinosaur puzzle for Daniel and cuddle koalas for the girls. There was also a Christmas cake and a packet of mixed lollies.

  ‘I was gunna pay for them,’ she spluttered.

  ‘That’s what everyone says.’

  ‘It’s for my kids.’

  ‘Sure. Look, lady, I’ve heard more sob stories than you could ever imagine. I’ve got you on CCTV and you’re in deep water, kids or no kids.’

  ‘But they need something for Christmas after all that’s happened.’

  The security guard straightened his navy-blue shirt. ‘Tell you what. As it’s Christmas, I’ll let you off with a warning. But you’ll be on record and don’t let me catch you again.’

  Molly put the items back and bundled herself and the kids out the door.

  ‘Where’s my car? I want my car,’ cried Matthew.

  ‘Just wait a moment, Matthew,’ said Molly through gritted teeth. ‘We’ll be home soon an’ I’ll make us somethin’ nice to eat.’

  Matthew complained all the way home and when they arrived, Molly fumbled with the keys to the house, opened the lock and wheeled the twins inside. She tried to ignore the mess. There was dirt around the light switches, and piles of food-encrusted plates. Tomorrow, she thought. Tomorrow I’ll give the place a big clean up. She put the vegetables and mince in
the fridge and ran a bath for the kids. Whatever she did, the kids seemed to get dirty again very quickly. She couldn’t stand dirty kids with snot coming out their noses. Looking neglected. No matter what else happened, her children would be clean, tidy and well fed.

  She scrubbed Matthew’s feet.

  ‘Ouch,’ he cried. ‘Y’re hurtin’ me.’

  ‘Keep still, will ya,’ she rubbed the soil from between his toes. ‘How dya get so dirty? I’ll never know.’

  When she finished, the front of her shirt was wet and stained. Molly didn’t care how she looked. She might be a fat, ugly cow, but her boys would be clean and her girls would be beautiful princesses. Damn the security guard.

  Molly settled the children in front of the TV and pushed the peeling laminex back onto the TV cabinet. She’d managed to pay the last electricity bill with a wad of cash Joe had dumped on the table after a night out with the boys.

  ‘I earned it,’ he’d said. ‘Y’ should be grateful rather than constantly naggin’ me.’

  She heard a crash and turned to see Matthew’s food all over the floor with his plastic plate upside down in the middle of it.

  ‘Matthew, what’ve ya done?’

  ‘Rotten food,’ he said.

  ‘Nah, lovey, it’s good food. Here, there’s some more. It’s spag bol. Ya favourite.’

  Molly pulled out a clean plate and put the food she had saved for Joe onto it. Matthew fiddled with the food on the plate.

  ‘Eat up, love. Y’ must be hungry.’ He looked from his food to her and back again. ‘Tell Mummy, what was ya favourite thing y’ did today?’

  ‘You gave my car back. I hate you,’ said Matthew. He stood up and knocked the plate of spaghetti off the coffee table. The plate crashed to the floor and broke, spraying food on the floor, chair and Daniel.

  ‘Matthew, ya naughty boy,’ she said, louder than she meant. ‘Y’ve wasted all the food and made a pig o’ yaself. Look at ya pjs.’ The front of his pyjamas was splattered with red sauce. An’ look at this room!’

  The twins cried and Matthew screamed when Molly tried to wipe the food off his pyjamas. He pushed her and she slapped him on the face.