An Unsuitable Mother

by Sheelagh Kelly

  Nell showed concern. ‘That looks nasty, we’ll have to get you some antihistamine – try to leave it alone.’

  With Nina still raking her arms, they sat down to breakfast.

  More talkative this morning, Romy asked, ‘Are we going to see Millie today?’

  ‘We are not!’ retorted her mother. ‘The minute I’ve had this I’ll be off to that beach – if that’s all right with you, Mam?’

  ‘Yes, I’ll go with you,’ said Nell. ‘It’s no good visiting Millie so early, she might not be up.’

  ‘If she’s like every other bugger here, she will,’ contradicted Nina, scratching her arm again. ‘That was another thing! Somebody was mowing their grass at six.’

  ‘Well, I expect they have to because of the heat,’ said Nell.

  ‘Don’t mention heat –’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Neen,’ laughed her mother. ‘You’ve done nothing but moan.’

  ‘You can talk!’ parried Nina. But it was all good-natured banter.

  ‘You look a lot happier, I’m glad to see,’ smiled Nell to her granddaughter as breakfast progressed.

  ‘Yes … well, yes and no.’ Romy reverted to being quite anguished, as she finally managed to blurt, ‘Patrick’s left his wife.’

  Her mother looked startled, and so did Nell. ‘When did you find this out?’ the former demanded to know.

  ‘I phoned his friend last night,’ admitted Romy, ‘to see how he was. Patrick had just called to tell him.’

  ‘How do you know he’s telling the truth?’

  ‘Because he said so, and I trust him.’

  ‘So did his wife once,’ said her mother.

  ‘We haven’t been deceiving her. I told you, nothing, happened.’

  ‘Not much! There doesn’t have to be sex involved to constitute betrayal. What was it the pope said, about adultery of the heart?’

  ‘Well then, I’m guilty of it,’ came Romy’s flat reply. ‘I can’t help loving him – and I’m ready for all the heartache that’ll involve.’

  ‘It’s not your heartache, though! It’s his little boy who’ll suffer most – do you really intend to ruin his childhood?’

  ‘We’ll try to minimise the hurt.’

  ‘You’re fooling yourself!’

  ‘It’s easy for you to pontificate!’ Romy accused her mother. ‘You’ve never felt passionate about anybody.’

  Nina’s jaw dropped in outrage. ‘How come you’re here then?’

  ‘That was an accident. You didn’t love my father.’

  ‘I’m talking about you, not him! I’ll never feel so passionately for anyone – I fought tooth and nail so’s my dad would allow me to keep you! Talk about raw need – you go on about all these romantic yearnings – well, let me tell you, they could never equal the way a mother feels for her child! I know just how Patrick’s wife will be feeling!’

  Everybody got upset then. ‘Oh, please don’t fight,’ begged Nell, as close to tears as they were.

  ‘I’d give my life for you.’ Nina glared at her daughter. ‘That’s why I cringe to see you heading for this weakling –’

  ‘Well I’ve made up my mind,’ said Romy. ‘And you said you’d support me!’

  ‘And I will,’ said Nina. ‘But I don’t have to like it.’

  ‘Shall we just listen to a bit of music?’ suggested Nell, and left the table to switch on a bedside radio.

  And within half an hour the animosity had evaporated, as they shared laughter over the country music that seemed to be all they played in Queensland.

  Then, after Nell had washed up, and all had showered, Nina said, ‘Right, come on, you little bootscooters, wagons roll!’ And they headed for the beach.

  Whilst they were lounging for a while on the sands, a jet-ski came tearing along the coast, filling their lungs with the tang of fuel and assaulting their ears.

  ‘These people are completely mad,’ accused Nina. ‘A beautiful place like this, and still they can’t resist buggering it up with their toys! They don’t deserve it. Anybody normal would just sit and appreciate the space, gaze out at that view, listen to classical music on the Walkman, not bash about on machines. That’s what I’d do, anyway.’

  ‘You, live here?’ laughed her mother. ‘You wouldn’t last five minutes.’

  ‘I would!’ Nina looked slightly cross.

  ‘Who are you trying to kid? Nobody around to argue with? You’d be bored to tears in paradise.’

  Nina conceded this with a laugh, then both peered up the beach to see how far Romy had gone.

  When she returned, they went home to a cold lunch, and in the afternoon finally did what they had gone there to do. Using one of the phone boxes next to the general store, Nell dialled Millie’s number, and, whilst waiting for it to be answered, she warned Nina and Romy, ‘Don’t say a word about William in case it gets back to Mary.’ Illegitimacy might mean nothing to the young ones, though to Nell it was still her shameful secret. ‘But I’m going to pick Millie’s brains about the farms around here that might have taken anybody from Eng— oh, is that Millie?’ Suddenly breaking off, she attended the phone. ‘I hope you don’t mind me using your first name, but I’m your sister Mary’s neighbour – yes! She’s sent –’ Nell fought to get a word in, as the woman gabbled excitedly about having been waiting for their visit. ‘– that’s right. Well, we’ve arrived, and apparently we’re just around the corner from you … are you sure? Right, see you then!’

  Hanging up, she said, ‘We’ve been invited to tea, but she says give her till four.’

  Nina groaned. ‘Probably rolling the carpets up for a spot of line dancing – shall we have a wander along the front till it’s time?’

  The harsh lines of Millie’s brick bungalow were lost behind a small jungle of lush greenery, palms of different varieties, shrubs, elkhorn ferns and bougainvillea that tumbled in a vermillion curtain over the picket fence. There was a scent of tropical blooms in the air. For a moment, Nell thought they were at the wrong house, for Millie looked nothing like her sibling, but was short and whippet thin, with not a lick of make-up, her face like a walnut, and her hair a natural silver. Just give me time to get back from my bowling session, she had said, and she was still in her whites, her leathery face looking even more tanned against the clothing.

  Nell did the introductions. The wiry little woman had a vigorous handshake, her Yorkshire accent all but gone except for the odd word. She had been here since after the war, when she had married an Anzac. Spotting her late husband’s photograph as a young man in uniform, Nell mentioned that her own had also passed away, then spent a few minutes commenting on how beautifully kept the military memorials were over here.

  ‘Even the tiniest places we’ve come through seem to give them great prominence. Quite right too, it was a marvellous thing they did, helping the mother country. It wasn’t really their fight, but they came …’

  ‘Well, don’t forget they were under threat themselves,’ said Millie. ‘They were in real danger of invasion from the Japs – not many Poms realise that, this being the arse end of the world – pardon my French, as my father used to say!’

  ‘Oh, so did my friend,’ laughed Nell, thinking of Beata back home. Then, ‘Don’t let’s mention the Japanese! It makes me boil that we’re helping their economy – after what they did to our lads I vowed to boycott their products forever, but nowadays you’re never really sure what firm owns what, and as for being lumped with Europe – oh, listen to me! I’m at it again.’ Even though Millie had been agreeing with every word, Nell changed the subject and, referring to the wilderness behind the town, she asked, ‘Is this what they call the outback, Millie?’

  The other smiled. ‘Suppose it would seem that way to some, but there’s many more remote towns than this, believe me – right, sit yourselves down, my dears, and I’ll get us some tea!’ Less annoying than her sister, Millie had adopted the minimal lifestyle of the locals, sauntering about as she catered for them. Her home held none of the brass knickk
nacks of Mary’s living room.

  ‘I did have a lot when I first came here.’ Millie explained the lack, as she made sandwiches in the open-plan kitchen and spoke to them over a breakfast bar. ‘But the sea air and the humidity corroded them. I’ve tried to wrap up a few of my precious ones, but there doesn’t seem a lot of point if you can’t have them on display – here now, tuck into these!’ She handed over plates of sandwiches, pastries and muffins, and a bowl of huge tomatoes.

  ‘That’s a lovely big fridge, Millie.’

  ‘Well you have to be able to get everything in or it goes off so quick in this climate.’ She saw that Nina was raking her swollen flesh. ‘Sand flies been troubling you?’ Asked if she had any antihistamine tablets, she went off to fetch a packet. ‘Don’t take any till tonight, though, they’ll knock you right out.’

  She sat down again. ‘So, let me get this right, you’re Romy’s mum?’ She was directing her question at Nina. A nod was to verify this. ‘You’ve no husband either?’ chanced Millie, seeing no wedding ring – but it was not an accusation, just a commentary on their shared situation. ‘Four of us with no man between us – oh, sorry, Romy, you might be attached?’

  Nell quickly enlarged on her granddaughter’s shake of head, as she saw the look that passed between her and Nina. ‘She’s got plenty of time for that, eh, Romy? I must say, Millie, this all looks smashing, I think we must have put you to a great deal of trouble.’

  ‘Get away! It’s the least I could do with my sister dragging you hundreds of miles out of your way – well now, what’s Mary up to these days?’

  Presented with such hospitality, Nina and her daughter had to politely endure listening to Nell relate the minutiae of her neighbour’s life.

  ‘It must be lonely for you now your husband’s gone,’ mused Nell. ‘Would you ever consider going home?’

  ‘Never,’ said Millie, who, in spite of her desiccation, obviously thrived on such conditions. ‘Our Mary would drive me crackers within an hour of her company. If the weather didn’t kill me off first. Besides, my family’s here.’ She spoke of her two sons and one daughter, their spouses and children.

  ‘Six grandchildren, how lovely! Speaking of children …’ Nell hoped in subtle fashion to find out which local places had been involved in the Child Migrant Scheme. ‘Did you watch that documentary last night, Millie?’

  ‘Oh, about the CMS? No, that’s been on before.’

  ‘Wasn’t it dreadful,’ said Nell quickly, before Millie could talk about something else. ‘It broke my heart. You’ve been here a long time now –’

  ‘Almost fifty years – not here, Brisbane originally, then a few other places before we retired. Been here nearly twenty.’

  ‘You must know anybody who’s anybody,’ flattered Nell. ‘Are there many from England?’

  ‘Quite a few in Brisbane.’ And Nell was forced to listen to a lot of useless chit-chat before being allowed to ask:

  ‘But what about here?’

  ‘Oh, not many Poms here. A lot of German stock, and Scandinavians for some reason.’

  ‘I thought maybe with there being a lot of farms,’ Nell steered her back, ‘they might have taken a few of those migrants.’

  ‘Well, they might,’ said Millie. ‘But I don’t know any of the farmers, they’re stuck out in the back of beyond – I think historically they captured a load of black fellows from the islands to cut the cane …’

  And here we go again, thought Nell, as Millie droned on about totally the wrong subject. During a break in the dialogue she managed to say, ‘Don’t think I’m not fascinated, Millie, but I’ll have to use your loo …’

  ‘Oh I’m the same, dear – wait till you get to my age, you’ll never want to be more than twenty yards from a dunny.’

  Whilst Nell was gone, Nina risked her mother’s wrath by divulging the reason for her questions. ‘Please don’t mention I told you, but Mum’s looking for somebody in particular. She gave a son up for adoption fifty-odd years ago, and we’re here to try and find him.’

  Millie touched her cheek. ‘Oh s’truth, he wasn’t a child migrant, was he? And me rattling away like a tram – the poor woman.’

  ‘Please don’t tell Mary either,’ Nina begged quickly.

  ‘I wouldn’t dream of it, love.’

  Faced with so little time, Nina cut her off. ‘His name was William Morgan, at least that’s the name we think he had when he emigrated. We’re not at all sure that it was Queensland, it’s just on hearsay.’

  ‘It’d be looking for a needle in a haystack, dear.’

  Nina agreed. ‘We must have looked at every scrap of paper and reel of microfilm in the State Library.’

  ‘If they couldn’t help you, I doubt I’ll be of use.’

  ‘Never mind, I just thought I’d let you know, so’s you could maybe ask around your friends – someone might know someone. Mum’s address is the same as your sister’s, but number sixty-six instead of sixty-four.’ Watching Millie scribble this down, she added, ‘It’s a long shot, but I’d give anything in the world to find him for her – best shut up now, she’s coming.’

  ‘Will you have another cup of tea before you go?’ Millie was asking, as Nell returned.

  ‘Ooh yes, always ready for a cuppa,’ smiled Nell, though she had the sense that they had been talking about her.

  ‘Looks like another of my friends has come to see me.’ Copying Millie’s example, everyone craned their necks.

  A utility vehicle had pulled into the drive. The three women looked out to see a very powerful-looking man in the driving seat.

  ‘Should we be going, Millie?’

  ‘No! It’s only the ranger, Shane – lovely bloke.’

  Nell observed with an admiring eye. ‘He looks a big fine chap.’ Though, as he climbed out, she and the others were surprised to see that his body was somewhat out of proportion. Whilst still chunky, his legs seemed a little too short for his trunk.

  Millie caught the younger women’s smirk. ‘Yes, you were expecting him to be a lot taller, weren’t you, him being built like the proverbial outhouse?’

  Nell passed the others a look that told them to watch their manners, then made ready to greet the visitor as his tap was heard on the fly-wire screen.

  ‘G’day, Mill—’ his drawl broke off as he caught sight of others. ‘Ah sorry, you’ve got visitors …’

  ‘That’s all right, Shane.’ Millie summoned him in and introduced them.

  He had removed his hat to greet Millie. One of the old school. Nell liked that in a man. As ever, she calculated his age straight away. But even guessing that he was too young to be her son, in his late forties rather than his fifties, she knew he could not be related, for he was the antithesis of Billy, not as tall but twice as broad, padded with a little fat as well as muscle, and his hair was fine and light brown, and slightly thinning.

  Invited to sit down for a cup of tea, Shane selected a chair that was set apart from the others. Watching his movements, Nell saw now that there was a slight similarity with Bill, in that his limbs were quite hirsute, the hair of his shins and forearms bleached to a golden fuzz by the sun. She couldn’t tell if he had a hairy chest, all she could see was a small vee of smooth tanned skin, his khaki shirt being buttoned almost to the throat – and freshly donned that morning, judging by its crisp pleats and his neutral smell. Realising she was staring, she smiled and looked away, but not before she had noticed that Shane’s hazel eyes seemed to linger on Nina. Not that it would do him any good. What a shame. He did seem a lovely chap, and his voice a far cry from the excitable rattle of that television commentator, a quiet, steady drawl, but soothing rather than monotonous.

  During the conversation she was to discover why. Shane had been a lecturer at university but had given it all up to come and work as a ranger for the National Parks department. As usual it was Nell who asked and replied to any questions, Nina being very unreceptive to anything he might ask of her – not that he did after the first time. Despite b
eing big and brawny and tanned with a friendly smile, he was quite reserved, and, Nell suspected, rather shy too.

  Whilst they had been speaking, a row of black and white birds had assembled on Millie’s window ledge, looking like robbers with their black hoods. Then, one of them emitted a haunting note, as if the leader of a barber’s choir setting the tune – and what a beautiful tune it was, each bird performing his own individual note in turn – in the way that tapping wine glasses filled to different levels with water might create a melody – each little beak extended to the sky, then the head swooping down in a bow as he delivered. The watchers found it enchanting.

  ‘Australian magpies are a lot more musical than ours.’ Romy smiled at Shane.

  ‘Yes, it’s a bit like a Gregorian chant, isn’t it – but they’re butcherbirds. That one’s a magpie over there.’ Touching her shoulder, he steered her to look through another window, then said, ‘Listen …’ And they were to hear a totally different, but equally beautiful, cadenza. ‘They’re asking for their dinner,’ smiled Millie.

  ‘What have I told you about upsetting the balance of nature?’ Shane wagged a finger, but seemed quite relaxed as Millie fed the birds with a few scraps of mince. And whilst this amused the visitors, he was to relate to Romy some of the comical things he had seen the birds do. ‘Watched them play all kinds of games – would you believe they were surfing the other night after a rainfall! Jumping onto a stream of water, surfing along it, then jumping off again just before they would’ve been swept down the drain!’ Enacting all the movements for the benefit of a smiling Romy, he seemed all at once aware that he might be making a fool of himself in front of her mother, who was al together less receptive. And he withdrew with a sheepish look to finish his tea.

  It wasn’t long afterwards that he was on his way – another one escaped, Nell silently accused her middle-aged daughter. Silly girl.

  ‘Divorced,’ Millie leaned forward to whisper, even though he had gone. ‘No children.’

  Nell wondered how she had managed to draw such personal information from this buttoned-up fellow. ‘Is that what made him throw up his career? I thought it was an odd move to have made.’