The Changing Room

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The Changing Room Page 11

by Christine Sykes


  ‘Your back still sore?’ Anthony asked. ‘For goodness’ sake, make an appointment with the doctor and get it properly diagnosed.’

  ‘I will, after I’ve seen Mr Tomati about our premises.’

  ‘Make sure you do. This is more important than your women’s group.’

  ‘It’s not just a women’s group. And today is critical to our future.’

  ‘That’s not what I meant. You’ll be no good to them if you can’t walk properly. If you don’t have time, let me make some calls and get you an appointment.’

  ‘No, I’ll do it.’

  *

  ‘You look terrible this morning,’ Genevieve said when she arrived to pick Claire up.

  ‘Well, thanks. I needed that.’

  ‘No point in false flattery. So, what’s going on?’

  ‘Actually, my back is sore.’

  ‘You need to get it properly checked out.’

  ‘That’s what Anthony says.’

  ‘Well, he’s right. Men sometimes are, you know,’ said Genevieve, and Claire smiled. ‘So, what’s the urgency this time with selling the premises?’

  ‘Mr Tomati says he’s had an offer from someone who’s keen to purchase the property. Now his children are grown he wants to help them buy houses for their families.’

  ‘Sounds reasonable.’

  Claire knew Genevieve was right. Mr Tomati couldn’t have been making much from the flats, which is why he let Suitability use them for next to nothing.

  ‘We’ll find something,’ said Genevieve. ‘But first we have to get through today. Perhaps the prospective buyer won’t be interested once he’s had a good look around.’

  ‘I knew I should’ve planted some stink bombs.’

  ‘Yes, pity we don’t operate that way, isn’t it?’

  Genevieve pulled up at the parking area behind the flats.

  ‘At least I managed to rearrange most of the appointments this morning. It would have been horrible to have them poking around while we were trying to dress our clients,’ said Claire. ‘Anna will be on hand to help us manage the one client I couldn’t reschedule. She seems efficient in a nonthreatening way.’

  ‘What’s her background?’

  ‘She was executive assistant to a managing director and was shocked when she was let go. I can’t get any information from her about the circumstances, but she had trouble finding another position.’

  ‘I know all about that.’ Genevieve had recently been offered a retrenchment package from Family and Community Services and was still working out what to do. ‘I’ve been in contact with a number of organisations about getting work as a consultant. Everyone is full of promises, but low on results.’

  ‘I’d have thought you’d be snapped up in a minute.’

  ‘You would think so, but it’s harder out there than I realised. Even though I’m only fifty-five, ageism is rife.’

  ‘Maybe we need a program for mature women,’ said Claire.

  ‘Now there’s a thought. But let’s ensure we have this one on an even keel first.’

  They paused while a plane passed overhead.

  ‘Speak of the devil, that’s them over there.’ Claire pointed to some men in ill-fitting suits standing in deep conversation beside a car. ‘Here we go again.’

  Mr Tomati introduced them to the potential buyer and a real estate agent. The agent had a folder of plans for the building and kept pointing out faults and parts that needed fixing.

  ‘This is a great location,’ said Mr Tomati. ‘These ladies would attest to that.’

  ‘It’s close to the railway station,’ said Claire. ‘Although it’s noisy and the entry through this alleyway is not appealing. I wouldn’t want to come here after dark.’

  Mr Tomati glared at her.

  ‘And not all the trains stop at this station now the new timetable has been put in place,’ added Genevieve.

  ‘There is parking for each of the units,’ said Mr Tomati, leading the potential buyer away from them. ‘And that is such a valuable thing in this location, so close to the city.’

  ‘Is this mark from rising damp?’ asked the real estate agent, pointing to a large stain on the outside of the building.

  ‘Oh, it is an old mark,’ said Mr Tomati. ‘The problem was fixed years ago.’

  Claire struggled up the stairs to the units occupied by Suitability and entered the storeroom. There had been a working bee to tidy the space and most of the boxes had been moved out.

  ‘So, everything here is donated?’ asked the agent. Claire nodded. ‘And you don’t pay any rent?’

  ‘We pay a nominal rent. Mr Tomati has been very generous.’

  ‘Can we see the other unit now?’ asked the agent after looking around.

  ‘We have a client in there,’ said Claire. ‘I’ll check how they are going.’

  Anna was with the client they had been unable to reschedule. Laura had been a corporate lawyer before getting married and having children. After years of emotional abuse, which had eroded her confidence, her husband left her. She was referred to Suitability by a job support agency and had an interview the next day.

  ‘I’m sorry, you’ll have to wait or come back later,’ said Claire as she closed the door behind her.

  ‘This is very annoying,’ said the potential buyer. ‘Not at all acceptable.’

  ‘Please,’ said Mr Tomati. ‘We can look at one of the other units and come back.’

  He led them back down the stairs and Claire could hear them banging on the door of the unit below, which was occupied by students.

  ‘Can you stand guard here?’ Claire asked Genevieve. ‘I’ll see if I can help Anna finish the session.’

  Laura, who had slouched into the showroom an hour previously, was now standing tall. She wore a dress with a matching jacket. The jacket had a fine blue stripe, her hair was piled on her head in a bun, and she looked efficient and elegant.

  ‘Can we take a photo of you for our records?’ Claire asked. ‘You look so fabulous.’

  Laura agreed and Claire showed her the photo.

  ‘That’s me?’

  ‘It is. I’ll send it to you if you want.’

  While Laura changed back into her own clothes, Claire asked Anna how she felt after the styling session.

  ‘Exhausted, but wonderful. I can’t believe I found that outfit. I was about to give up and settle for a skirt that fitted but it didn’t suit her, so I went through the racks one more time, and there it was, almost begging to be tried on.’

  Anna packed the clothes the client was taking into a shopping bag that had been donated by a wholesale clothing store.

  Claire helped Laura complete the paperwork. ‘Here’s a voucher for a free hairstyle. It’s from the hairdressing school down the road. And the cosmetics counter at the local department store has offered a free makeup session for our clients. Here’s their card.’

  ‘And make sure you make another appointment for clothes when you get the job,’ added Anna.

  ‘I can get more clothes?’

  ‘We give women who get a job a week’s worth of clothes so they have enough until they can afford to buy new ones for themselves.’

  ‘And then I bring these ones back?’

  ‘No, they are yours to keep,’ said Anna. ‘Good luck with your interview. Don’t forget to stand tall and smile.’

  Anna returned the clothes Laura hadn’t taken to the showroom and placed them back on the racks.

  While the client left, Claire made sure Mr Tomati and the prospective buyer were out of view of the landing.

  ‘We’ll have to be quick,’ said the buyer. ‘I’m a busy man and have other business to take care of.’

  ‘This unit is much the same as the others. It’s been modified for the service and can easily be put back if necessary.’

  ‘I don’t know if we’ll use the building as flats. Certainly not in the current configuration.’

  ‘My goodness, there are a lot of clothes,’ said the real estate agen
t. ‘How many women do you dress here?’

  ‘Last year we had more than a thousand clients,’ said Claire.

  ‘I see, and do most of the women find work?’

  ‘Most get a job and some do more study. The centre has proved itself, but it depends on us having the space to do it, and this place was a godsend.’

  The real estate agent fidgeted with his folder and Claire sensed he’d gone down a path of enquiry he regretted. The men gathered again on the landing. Claire and Genevieve overheard them discuss dates for settlement.

  ‘The place will need to be vacant,’ the potential buyer said. ‘That is non-negotiable.’

  Claire exchanged a look with Genevieve. She tried to remain calm and smiled at Mr Tomati when he said goodbye.

  As soon as they disappeared around the corner of the units, she burst into tears. Genevieve took her arm and led her back into the showroom where Anna was checking the clothes on the racks were in the right size order.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ sobbed Claire. ‘It’s just that I can’t face this place closing and I don’t know how we’re going to find another space we can afford. It was so hard last time and I couldn’t ask Anthony to have all the clothes back in our garage.’

  ‘Claire, it’s not your problem alone,’ soothed Genevieve. ‘We have a solid board now and heaps of volunteers. I’m sure between us we can come up with something.’

  Genevieve’s positive attitude irritated Claire. Usually she was the positive one, but today she felt her world had closed in on her. Her back ached, the pain ran down her right leg and it was an effort to move on the uncomfortable stool.

  ‘We can’t even afford decent furniture,’ she grumbled. ‘How on earth are we going to afford a whole showroom?’

  ‘How did you get this space?’ Anna asked.

  ‘We searched high and low and used every connection we had,’ said Genevieve. ‘Remember, Claire, how we had a chart of everybody anyone knew or was vaguely related to and we approached each one?’

  ‘We had articles in the local papers,’ added Claire, as she dried her eyes.

  ‘That’s right. And we included photos of all the clothes on your front lawn.’

  ‘My lawn looked like a junkyard of boxes bursting with clothes, shoes and bags,’ said Claire with a hint of a smile.

  ‘Anthony was so good about it,’ said Genevieve.

  ‘But he wouldn’t be now. Now he’s upgraded his Porsche to his dream convertible model, he won’t allow anything else to be kept in the garage.’

  ‘And remember how your gardener complained because he couldn’t mow the lawn?’ laughed Genevieve.

  Claire saw the surprise on Anna’s face.

  ‘Yes, I admit it; I do have a gardener.’

  ‘And a cleaner,’ said Genevieve.

  ‘All right. I know I have everything, you don’t need to rub it in.’ Claire laughed. ‘Well, we’ll just have to start all over again.’

  ‘We could develop a plan of action,’ said Anna. ‘Whenever there was a major issue with the company, I’d set up a meeting room with whiteboards and we’d spend the day working out strategies.’

  ‘A planning session is a great idea,’ said Claire. ‘Let’s get together tomorrow afternoon at my place to discuss it. Anna, can you come and help us?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Anna. ‘Oh, by the way, do you mind if I take this jacket home to mend? It’s beautiful, but the lining is coming away and the hem is frayed.’ Anna held up a designer label grey linen jacket with fuchsia trim.

  ‘Thanks so much.’ Claire recalled Anna had the fuchsia scarf she’d taken to clean with her at the makeup class. ‘Tu es très chic.’

  *

  After Anthony left the next morning, Claire took a double dose of anti-inflammatories and rolled out of bed. She knew she should cancel the events she had on that day, but she loved her French conversation group, which met at her house every Friday morning.

  Claire readily admitted to being a Francophile. She had fallen in love with the French language when she studied it at school. It was the sound of the words, the feel of them in her mouth and the fun of being able to use expressions as part of any conversation.

  As a reward for achieving high grades in primary school, her mother had taken her to Paris, where Claire fell in love with France, French food and the people. She studied French in high school and went back as an exchange student. She tried to return to France every two years and filled her home with purchases from these trips. Once they had sold the beach house, Claire hoped to follow her dream and buy a cottage in the French countryside.

  The women for the conversation group arrived together. Claire served madeleines, macaroons and mini éclairs from the local patisserie. They talked only in French. One of the women was raised in French Caledonia and could speak fluently. She assisted if someone couldn’t find the right word or phrase. Another woman had lived in France for five years due to her husband’s work. Two others had studied French at school and travelled to France and one had studied the language at university.

  Anthony rang when the members of the group were leaving.

  ‘Claire, is that you? Don’t tell me you went ahead with the French group after all the agony you were in last night? Of course, you did. Anyway, I’ve taken matters into my own hands and made you an appointment to see the doctor this afternoon.’

  ‘But I have a meeting this afternoon about Suitability.’

  ‘Cancel it. The doctor’s made a time for you as a favour. Claire, are you listening to me, if you don’t go to this appointment, I’ll …’

  ‘You’ll what?’

  ‘I’ll sleep at the hospital until you do. I can’t stand another night of you being in such pain. Claire, you have to do something about your back now.’

  Even though Claire thought Anthony was being ridiculous, she agreed to attend the appointment. Anthony had only ever slept at the hospital once before. It was early in their marriage when the children were little and not sleeping. They’d fought over something trivial and Claire felt like there was a block of ice in her stomach when he left. He came back the next night, but she vowed he’d never have an excuse to sleep away again.

  She didn’t have enough time to call the women who’d agreed to attend the Suitability meeting and decided to ask Anna for help.

  ‘Um, I hate to impose, but I need someone to postpone the meeting this afternoon for me. I have to see the doctor,’ said Claire, wondering if she had made a mistake ringing Anna. Maybe she should have made the calls herself and arrived late for the appointment, as doctors were never on time themselves. Claire had no idea what else Anna had in her life or whether she could be relied on.

  ‘Yes, I can do that. Let me get my pen. Now, where were we?’ The voice Claire heard sounded different, more efficient. ‘So, you want me to contact everyone and reschedule the meeting?’

  ‘Yes, please. But I’m not sure if we’ll have time to get them all together to meet again before the strategy meeting.’

  ‘How about I set up a conference call? I used to do that all the time with the manager and his remote staff. It saves time. Just tell me where the contact details are and I’ll organise it.’

  Claire checked her diary for available times and hoped Anna would be as effective as she sounded – she had run out of time to come up with an alternative plan.

  ‘Anna, are you sure it’s not too much trouble?’

  ‘Not at all. I can set up a group email address to make it easier. Is there anything else I can do to prepare for the next meeting?’

  ‘I have some handwritten notes about strategies. They’re a bit of a mess though.’

  ‘How about you scan them when you get a chance and send them to me? I can type them up and get them back to you to check before I send them out.’

  Claire sent Anna the notes for the meeting and drove to the doctor’s surgery, leaving the remains of the morning tea on the dining-room table. She expected the doctor’s usual response to her ailments, which was t
hat it would heal itself but if she was still in pain in a month to come back. Instead, he referred her to have an MRI and made an appointment to discuss the results the following week.

  13

  MOLLY

  ‘Shit. Must’a slept in,’ Molly grumbled as she woke to someone banging on the front door.

  She’d tossed and turned the night before the kids were due for their first visit to the house. It’d been several weeks since she’d last seen them. She’d taken a sleeping pill. Just one, to ease her nerves.

  The court had agreed to a plan for the return of her children. They called it restoration and at first Molly thought they were talking about all the work the trendoids were doing on the houses in her suburb.

  The first step in this so-called restoration plan was a day visit to see how the kids adjusted. That’s what they told Molly. But Molly knew it was to see how she could cope, and she was anxious.

  Molly had missed having the kids over Easter. She dreamed of the day she could take them to the Show. She resolved to have a celebration.

  At the post-Easter sales Molly bought cheap eggs, and hid them in the garden for an egg hunt. She’d been tempted to slip four bunny rabbits, which she couldn’t afford, in her bag but when she reached out for them, she saw the security camera, recalled what had happened the last time, and pulled her hand back. The thought of losing her kids again was too much to bear.

  Molly threw on a loose dress and opened the door to see Steve behind a bunch of gerberas. She was relieved it wasn’t a welfare officer but embarrassed she hadn’t even had time to go to the bathroom.

  ‘Sorry to wake you,’ he said. ‘Claire asked if I could drop these off and wish you all the best for today. Also, I’ve got some stuff in my ute for the backyard. Claire said she was cleaning out her garage and needs to put them somewhere until she decides whether to keep them.’

  ‘Thanks. Do y’ want a cuppa?’ Molly asked automatically, hoping he’d decline as soon as she heard herself say the words.

  ‘No, thanks anyway. I’m on my way to uni. I’ll just take these things round the back an’ leave ya to it.’

  It would’ve taken many more weeks to get the house ready if it hadn’t been for Claire. Nathan and Steve had come around again to fix up the front verge and yard. Molly had watched in awe as they worked nonstop. Nathan was fair and slender, with wiry arms. Molly thought he looked and sounded snob-bish. Steve was dark, with scraggy hair and muscles that rippled when he slashed at the lantana and rammed the mower over the waist-high paspalum. He seemed more easygoing. The two of them joked as they drank water and worked. So different to the boozing and pulling apart of old bikes Joe’s dropkick mates did.

 

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