Watching that stricken face, Eilleen regretted her impulsiveness and parted her lips to emit apology, but her niece had already launched into motion and was cycling away as fast as she could up the street.
Oriel lunged at the pedals, throwing all her weight against them, forcing every ounce of energy into the motion in an attempt to rid herself of the squalid feeling that invaded her. The shame! How many others knew? Why had her mother never warned her? There was no reluctance to leave York now. Oriel could not wait to get away, fearing that every person whom she passed on the street was laughing at her.
By the time she arrived home the initial shock had been wiped from her face though it still invaded every pore of her body. However, she must have hidden it well for her parents did not appear to notice anything amiss. When her mother asked if the offer had been well received Oriel replied that it had, omitting to mention that she had told Charlie to ignore any other instructions and transport the goods to the Salvation Army. Be damned to the Maguires!
4
With their finances in order and their possessions loaded on board a cargo vessel, the Prince family spent two days in the capital, enjoying the numerous landmarks and disbursing a great deal of money in swish departmental stores. This was their final night in London before embarkation and Nat was feeling particularly satisfied over his achievements. This afternoon, having made a secret telephone call to York from the hotel foyer, he had been given the information that the hospital bed that had been reserved for his mother’s former pimp was now occupied. He smiled down at his wife, who smiled back.
Bright felt utterly untrammelled as she sauntered down the busy illuminated road between the two people she loved. They had just emerged from the cinema – her first ever visit – after viewing Shoulder Arms.
She laughed. ‘When my grandchildren ask me to recall my last memory of England I’ll be able to tell them – Charlie Chaplin!’
‘Who’s going to provide you with these grandchildren?’ asked Oriel, dressed in the cream trenchcoat she had purchased that day. ‘I hope you’re not looking at me.’
‘Well, maybe not today,’ smiled Bright.
‘Not ever.’ The young woman was emphatic.
‘Then what did you pack all those toys for?’ demanded her mother.
‘For me! I’m attached to them.’
‘Sentimental.’ Bright felt a pang of disappointment that Oriel had no wish for children. Perhaps she would change her mind. A placard giving news of the impending general election caught her eye and she laughed again. ‘It couldn’t be anything so momentous as that for my last memory of England, no it had to be Charlie Chaplin! Makes you sick, doesn’t it?’
‘I’ve just been granted the vote and I won’t even be here to use it. They could’ve brought it forward a few weeks.’
Oriel pictured her own lasting memory of England: the spiteful look on Eilleen’s face as she informed Oriel of her grandmother’s profession. Shoving this aside she responded to her mother with a teasing smile as they made their way along the cosmopolitan thoroughfare to their hotel. ‘Since when were you at the forefront of suffrage? I never saw you chained to any railings.’
Her mother gasped. ‘No, I was always too busy chained to Miss Bytheway’s kitchen sink! Anyway, you’re only jealous ’cause you’re too young.’ She smirked.
Nat invited assault. ‘Women shouldn’t be allowed to vote, anyroad.’ He snatched an amused glance at Oriel but she did not appear to appreciate that he had been joking and he sighed inwardly. He never knew where he was with his daughter. She had been quite affable once all the pressure of selling up and packing was over, but now it was as if she had decided she had been far too nice to him for too long and had abruptly taken herself in order. He tried to make amends. ‘Oh well, you never know, they might let you vote over there.’
Obviously not regarding this as a prime issue, his wife’s mind had hopped on to another subject. ‘I wonder what our Eilleen thought to that stuff I sent. I might’ve expected a note of acknowledgement.’
Oriel balked, but chose not to confess that the goods had gone to the Salvation Army.
‘At least it didn’t get sent back,’ added Bright.
Oriel was scathing. ‘Of course it didn’t! It was good stuff. They know when they’re well off.’
‘I wouldn’t exactly say that,’ returned her mother. ‘I’m the lucky one.’
‘It wasn’t always so,’ retorted Oriel, who could not possibly imagine how bad it was to be thrown out on the streets as her mother had been, but nevertheless felt intense bitterness towards the Maguires. ‘They don’t deserve anything after treating you so badly.’ And me, she thought.
Bright was not so vindictive, she just did not feel close to her family any more. Still, the news of her mother’s death had brought floods of tears and they were not far away now. In answer to Oriel’s observation she merely shrugged.
‘You’ve got to stop looking backwards,’ announced her daughter. ‘Look ahead,’ and instantaneously she collided with a lamppost, which made them all roar with laughter as they continued to their hotel.
As the moment to depart grew nearer Oriel and Bright became quiet and reflective, thinking of the old city where both had been born and which they were now leaving behind. In contrast Nat, with not one qualm in his heart, gave the impression of a pent-up greyhound straining to be released from its trap. His excitement at finally boarding the liner, however, was dampened somewhat when he discovered that most of his fellow passengers were homegoing Australian troops, and he guarded Bright jealously as they made their way to their cabins.
‘I didn’t spend the best part of a hundred and fifty quid for us to travel on a troopship!’
‘Ssh! They’ll hear you,’ whispered his wife, as much alarmed by the look of excitement that had taken over Oriel’s face. Her daughter had always shown an inordinate interest in the opposite sex – perhaps because of a lack of male company in her childhood – and now here was a whole boatload of men. However would Bright prevent one of them from taking advantage of her?
‘What do I care? They needn’t think they’re making that racket all the way to Melbourne.’
‘Don’t make a fuss, please,’ she begged him.
Oriel, enraptured by the multitude of khaki, agreed with her mother. ‘They have been fighting for us,’ she reminded Nat, who was immediately standoffish and did not speak again for some moments except to complain.
‘They’ve given us the wrong cabin an’ all!’ Upon investigating all aspects of the journey he had found out that the northerly cabins would be cooler. ‘Right! Well, they needn’t think they’re fobbing us off with this.’
Oriel felt he was showing off and with a grimace at her mother she went to examine her own cabin.
Unused to making complaints to those in authority Bright offered a tentative suggestion. ‘It looks quite comfortable to me. Oh, look it’s got—’
‘It might look comfy now but you won’t think so when we get out to Egypt. It’ll be like an oven. I haven’t paid all that brass for the three of us to arrive like Christmas turkeys. Don’t unpack, I won’t be long – and look after that case!’ All his money was in it.
Complaint did not work, though a bribe did. By the time the ship cast off from London bound for Marseilles, Nat, his wife and daughter had exchanged their cabins for superior quarters.
Now up on deck, the waving crowd on the quay getting further away, Bright lifted misty eyes from the oil-streaked water, trying to take her mind off the parting from her homeland. Worrying over her daughter’s barely concealed interest in the soldiers, she indicated another young woman of similar age who was travelling with her parents, and suggested Oriel make friends. ‘That girl’d be better company for you than your father and me.’ She would also act as a chaperone.
Oriel was busy enjoying the soldiers’ tomfoolery and hardly glanced at the subject of her mother’s attention, whose bearing spoke authority, a feature that both attracted and repelled
Oriel at the same time. She declined the recommendation. ‘She looks too bossy. I hate people who try to push you around. I’ll have a look for someone friendlier.’
‘Aye well, just be careful who you choose.’ Bright observed the soldiers with a mother’s dread.
The distance between ship and land widened until England finally melted into the horizon, and tears could no longer be held at bay. With his money locked in the ship’s safe, Nat could concentrate more fully now and tried to bolster them with talk of all the exciting things that lay ahead, and for a time his enthusiasm managed to restore their spirit of adventure – until the band played ‘Land of Hope and Glory’ at the evening concert, plunging them into tearfulness again. This fluctuation of emotions was to be maintained for some time. One minute Oriel and her mother were throwing themselves wholeheartedly into all the fun and games that the liner had to offer, and the next were throwing up their lunch as a gale buffeted the ship across the Bay of Biscay. Even in moments of relative calm Bright was particularly affected, groaning, ‘Oh God, how am I going to stand a month of this?’
With their only view grey open sea, Nat tried his best to soothe her. ‘The trick is not to regard it in them terms,’ he advised the women who huddled beside him in deck chairs, their only reason for being out here in the cold was the hope that the fresh air would blow away their nausea. ‘Just try to live life in an everyday fashion as you would at home.’
‘I don’t fancy doing the washing up after a few thousand people,’ came the wan attempt at humour.
‘I mean, don’t concentrate on ticking the days off, it’ll drag like mad. Just try to forget you’re on board ship and find something to occupy yourself. That goes for you too,’ Nat added to his daughter.
Oriel felt as bad as her mother. ‘When I try to do that you both harp on about my being molested by soldiers.’ Her face was even paler than usual.
Not the best of sailors himself, Nat got up and looked around in desperation for someone to take her off his hands. ‘I’m sure there must be female company for you.’
‘I apologize for being a nuisance to you.’ Oriel’s brain was rocking inside her skull.
‘I didn’t say you were a nuisance!’ He steadied himself as the deck heaved beneath his feet. ‘I’m just trying to take your mind off this blasted ship plunging up and down.’
Bright dry-retched, clamped her hand over her mouth and staggered to her feet. ‘I’m going to have to lie down.’
‘Aye, go on, love – d’you want me to come with you?’ When she shook her head Nat was relieved, having no wish to be cooped up below deck unless the captain gave a specific order. ‘I’ll come and check up on you before dinnertime.’ At his wife’s expression of disgust, he sighed. ‘Eh, I don’t know, all this free food and none of us are fit to eat it.’
Bright managed to mutter before departing, ‘Keep an eye on her.’
Nat suggested that Oriel lie down too. She shook her head, exasperating him. Now he would have to entertain her. ‘I won’t be much company for you.’ He looked round and spotted a tall well-dressed girl in obvious distress, leaning over the rail some yards away. ‘That lass doesn’t look too good. Go and see how she is.’
Oriel glanced to her left and saw the bossy girl whom her mother had pointed out when they had first embarked. ‘You go.’ She hunched into her cream woollen collar, feeling wretched.
‘I can’t go! She’ll think I’m trying to proposition her. Oh look, she’s just thrown up.’
‘Charming.’ Oriel turned her face away. Then at her father’s insistence, she sighed, rose and wobbled off to enquire as to the young woman’s health.
Nat heaved, more from a sense of relief than sickness and leaned over the rail, presenting his face to the salt-laden wind.
‘Are you all right?’ Oriel placed a solicitous hand on the young woman’s arm. Up and down, up and down went the deck.
The other swayed. ‘Not really.’ Braving ridicule, she turned to display the vomit spattered down the front of her dress. The circulating breeze carried the smell past Oriel’s nostrils and she covered her mouth to contain her own nausea. ‘I tried to lean over the side but the wind blew it back at me.’
Despite her revulsion Oriel giggled. The other pulled a face, holding a drenched handkerchief between her fingertips. ‘I need to get down to my cabin but I daren’t pass the boys.’ She gestured with her head along the deck at a group of soldiers. ‘If I’d bothered to put my coat on I would’ve been sick on that, then I could’ve taken it off and folded it up, but I only came up for a breath of air. I know it’s a lot to ask but could you perhaps lend me yours to cover this?’
Amusement wiped from her face, Oriel looked tormented, but the expression of rejection on the other’s face was sufficient to propel her into action and notwithstanding her distaste she unfastened the belt of her brand-new garment, whipped it off and put it around the other’s shoulders. ‘Sorry it doesn’t fit.’ The invalid was a good two sizes larger. ‘But at least it hides the mess.’
The recipient showed gratitude. ‘It’s so good of you. If you come with me to my cabin you can have it straight back.’ At the other’s expression she managed a laugh. ‘What am I thinking of! I’ll obviously have it cleaned for you as soon as I can. But would you mind accompanying me anyway? I still feel bilious.’
Oriel said of course she wouldn’t and began to walk towards the group of soldiers, hoping that the girl would not be sick just as they reached them.
Introductions were performed. Coincidence had it that Dorothy Ratcliffe was the same age and travelling with her parents. ‘It really cramps one’s style, doesn’t it? Especially with all these good-looking men around.’ Dorothy checked to make sure that the coat was hiding her soiled dress as they drew nearer to the group. ‘As if that isn’t bad enough I’ve got my younger brother with me too. One of the soldiers asked if he was my husband!’
‘You’ve spoken to them?’ It was uttered in wonder.
Dorothy looked at her askance. ‘Yes, it’s hard to avoid them, isn’t it – even supposing that one wants to?’ She smiled, then grimaced. ‘Of course, it’ll just be my luck for them to have seen me throw up.’
Oriel smiled as they neared the group of men and, taking Dorothy’s lead, replied to their friendly hellos.
Nat glanced up to check on his daughter’s whereabouts and noticed to his concern that she and the other girl were approaching a group of soldiers. However, when the females passed by without incident he allowed his eyes to be dragged back to the waves. The sea had always had this effect upon him. The more he gazed upon it the emptier he became until he was sucked towards the edge of melancholy. Hitherto he had been travelling under the assumption that the reunion with his lover would conquer all previous woe, but now under the spell of these cold grey waves he came to realize that the bouts of despair that had often plagued him were simply a part of his character, with which he was doomed to live. He had in some foolish way equated Bright with his mother – with their reunion it would be as if Maria had never left him – but however much Bright may pamper and cosset him the treachery of his real mother would remain as acutely raw as the day it had been inflicted.
The dreadful revelation brought desperate thoughts. If this was an indication of things to come why not end it now? He could jump over the side and by the time the ship had turned around to search for him he would be gone. Hypnotized by the waves he was dragged further and further into despair. Only with the greatest effort did he strive to rip himself away from the rail, stagger like a marionette down to his cabin and burst in upon his wife.
‘Oh!’ Bright was ejected by shock from her reclining position on to the edge of the bunk, pressing her hand to her chest. ‘You scared the living daylights out o’ me!’
Solicitations rolling from his tongue, Nat came to crouch down beside her, taking her in his arms with no sign of his inner turmoil on his face. ‘Sorry, I just came to see how you are.’
‘Dead from shock – no, I
’m a lot better. I had some ginger.’ She smiled and certainly her complexion had improved. ‘I was just thinking of coming up to join you. Where’s Oriel? Oh, you haven’t left her on her own, have ye?’
‘Don’t worry, she’s made pals with that big lass.’ Though still trembling, Nat prevented his wife from rising. ‘Stay here. I’ll join you instead.’ He began to take off his clothes.
Bright gave a soft anxious laugh. ‘What if she comes back?’
Half out of his jacket he sighed and went to lock the door. ‘She’ll get a shock, won’t she?’ With that he finished undressing and proceeded to help his wife to disrobe.
The brief ferocity of his lovemaking took her by surprise but she accepted him, uncomplaining, as he plunged into her as if his life depended on it. When it was over he lay there heaving on top of her – it’s all right, everything’s going to be all right, you’ve found her, you love her, she’s all that matters – and eventually the panic abated, he lifted his face and gazed into Bright’s loving eyes, and the grey tide receded.
Calm restored, Dorothy, too, had recovered from her mal de mer and was now changed and back on a more stable deck with her new friend, who had found another coat to wear.
‘You really must be hard up for company,’ she laughed, linking Oriel’s arm with her own, ‘if you’re prepared to allow your best coat to be covered in vomit.’
Oriel gave a laugh of disgust. The instant they had spoken, she had liked Dorothy, discovering that any hint of bossiness was only superficial. In repose her eyes and mouth were inclined to turn down at the outer edges, lending her a misleadingly serious look, but her laughter had since given lie to this. Oriel felt happier than she had done for weeks or even months as she sauntered arm in arm along the deck, luring the attention of male eyes, even if it were Dorothy they were admiring.
A Complicated Woman Page 8
