‘You’re a true friend. Anything I can do in return you only have to name it.’
‘Er, let me see,’ Oriel mused, her face tilted at the sky. ‘You can introduce me to those soldiers.’
‘Which ones?’
‘The ones who can’t take their eyes off you.’
Dorothy laughed. ‘They’re more likely to be staring at you. You’re the pretty one.’ She was kind enough not to comment on the other’s blush.
Oriel returned the scrutiny with a knowing smile. Her friend must be quite unaware of her powers of attraction. There was no prettiness, that was true, but Dorothy was… how could she describe her? Quietly majestic. She was one of those extra clean-looking people who make you feel inferior just by their very existence, with cheeks that appeared to have been scrubbed, not one glossy hair escaped from its chignon. Her tall figure, was – well, matronly was hardly a flattering description but it was the only one which sprang to mind right now and it made Oriel feel girlish in comparison. She was quite certain that it was her friend who attracted all the male attention, but was happy if some of it rubbed off on her.
‘You said you’d spoken to them. It’s more than I’ve done.’
‘It was rather that they spoke to me – and Father doesn’t know about it. He’d have piglets if he did. Mother too.’
‘Oh, yours are like that too, are they?’ The breeze whipped short tendrils of dark hair around Oriel’s cheeks. ‘The way my father talks you’d think they were the Hun instead of our own heroes.’
Dorothy adopted a conspiratorial air. ‘Maybe if we chaperoned each other they wouldn’t be so suspicious. Come on, we’ll go and find out.’ Oriel showed gleeful acquiescence and said the voyage wasn’t going to be as boring as she feared.
After being introduced to her new acquaintance, Dorothy’s parents were quite happy for the girls to keep their own company. Before embarking on the mile-long promenade around the ship, Oriel looked for her own mother and father but could not find them, and was rather relieved. Her father was not very friendly towards strangers.
‘Hullo, girls!’ A cheeky uniformed figure blocked their path, his grinning friends in tow. ‘We was just discussing whether you two were sisters.’ At their looks of disparagement he tried another tack. ‘Aw, stay a while and comfort a poor old soldier.’
Dorothy exchanged a smile with her companion. ‘I don’t think our parents would approve.’
The man in the slouch hat jutted his chin. ‘Disapprove of you helping a poor wounded veteran?’
‘You don’t look wounded.’ Dorothy’s reply was suspicious. Oriel remained quiet, seeking protection in her friend’s authoritative shadow and hoping they would not speak directly to her. If there had been only one man it would not have been so bad but they were now surrounded by a crowd of khaki hats, each with the brim pinned up on one side in a devil-may-care attitude, and inside every one a tanned grinning face. Though all were friendly, and much as she had fervently desired male company, she felt slightly intimidated by their number, and looked for a gap to squeeze through but found none.
‘Appearances can be so deceptive, eh?’ said the ringleader. Then he turned to Oriel, leaning so close she could smell the caramel toffee he had just eaten. ‘Give us a few minutes o’ yer time, miss?’
Oriel flushed, dropped her gaze to his chin strap then glanced nervously at Dorothy. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’
‘Fair goes. Few words from those pretty lips’d bring real pleasure after what we’ve been through, wouldn’t it, mates?’
His friends agreed.
Oriel was completely at a loss as to what to say. It showed in her manner.
‘Come on!’ He coaxed. ‘Tell us what yer did in the war.’
Invaded by the smell and the nearness of male bodies, she felt embarrassed that she hadn’t really done anything to tell. Whilst these men were defending the Empire, her war had been spent in wreaking vengeance on the father who had deserted her in babyhood. ‘Much the same as anyone else at home,’ she replied, twisting her embroidered bag. Her gaze flitted from face to face, resting nowhere but taking in all, from the apple-cheeked clerk with his downy moustache to the leathery jackeroo burned by thirty-five summers, all with eyes as old as the hills upon which their comrades had bled. She felt very small and childish.
Dorothy saw that her friend was in difficulties and sought to take the attention on herself. ‘I was a land girl.’
‘With hands like these?’ Another of the soldiers grabbed her fingers and stroked them. ‘They’re more fitted to tinkling the ivories than pulling veggies.’ There was a private joke at the rear that Oriel did not catch but it appeared to cause great merriment amongst the Anzacs. ‘Shut up, you blokes! I’ll bet yer do play the piano, don’t yer?’
‘As a matter of fact I do.’
‘Knew it,’ nodded the soldier. ‘Will yer give us a tune?’ He indicated the concert room.
‘I can’t right now, we have things to do.’ Parting the group with a majestic hand, Dorothy began to forge a casual passage. ‘But maybe later.’
‘Yer hangin’ on tight to that bag!’ A lanky digger grabbed Oriel’s handbag and ran up some stairs to another level. ‘What’ve yer got in here? Trying to smuggle the crown jewels out?’
‘Give me that back!’ Summoning bravery, Oriel put her hands on her hips and glared up at him whilst he made great play of throwing her bag over the side. She wagged a finger. ‘Just you dare and I’ll toss you off.’ There was smothered laughter as the soldier returned the bag to her with a muttered, ‘Half me luck,’ to his pals.
Dorothy, face crimson and mouth agape, hurried away with Oriel after her. ‘For heaven’s sake, are you trying to get yourself into trouble?’ she hissed at her friend as they left group laughter in their wake.
Exhilarated by the episode, Oriel looked baffled. ‘Why, what did I say?’
The large figure was almost convulsed with merriment. ‘I forgot, you don’t have a disgusting brother like mine – don’t look back!’
‘God, you were so cool with them,’ breathed Oriel, then frowned at the other. ‘What’s the matter? Why are you laughing?’
‘Nothing. Oh well, it’s just that I never dared introduce myself to you before today because I thought you were really sophisticated, with your hair and your clothes. When all the time you’re more innocent than me.’ She laughed and shook her head.
Feeling gauche, Oriel tutted and said nothing.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to mock.’ Dorothy grabbed her friend’s arm. ‘Talking to them doesn’t bother me, I suppose because I have a brother. What really does worry me is that they’re going to take me at my word about playing the piano for them. I can’t play a ruddy note.’
* * *
By the time the ship docked in Marseilles Nat and Bright had met Oriel’s new friend, whom they took to immediately. Oriel wanted to venture into town with Dorothy for souvenirs but neither set of parents was keen to subject their daughter to the attentions of greasy foreigners and so the girls were forced to part company for a while. However, when Oriel and her parents visited a small restaurant before embarking she spotted her friend, who waved a welcome.
‘Look, Mr and Mrs Ratcliffe are asking us to go and sit with them.’ Nat preferred not to socialize and tarried by the door. ‘Nay, this table’ll do us here.’
Bright, who was nervous enough already at being in these unfamiliar climes, tried to hide her embarrassment whilst returning the Ratcliffes’ smiles and gestures. ‘It’ll look rude if we ignore them,’ she muttered.
A waiter had come to stand in their path. ‘Bonsoir, monsieur, madame, mademoiselle!’ Receiving only blank looks he exclaimed, ‘Ah, pardonnez-moi, you are foreigners?’
Oriel showed slight offence. ‘Oh no, we’re English,’ came her emphatic retort. ‘And we’d like to sit with our friends over there.’ She set off towards the Ratcliffes’ table, followed by her mother. Nat was obliged to follow too or look foolish.
As he brought
up the rear, Oriel, having already met Dorothy’s family, was about to perform introductions. ‘Mr and Mrs Ratcliffe, these are—’ On the brink of announcing her own parents the reality hit her. How could she explain the discrepancy? For the first time she recognized that her pig-headed refusal to change her name would cause great embarrassment to her mother. The only thing for it was not to mention names but simply say, ‘This is my mother and my father.’
The couple also had an eighteen-year-old son, who after shaking hands made little impression as he was too consumed with interest for the patron’s daughter, whom he watched with hooded eyes whilst pretending to read the menu. Nat pulled out a chair for his wife to sit next to Mrs Ratcliffe, a jolly, large-boned, dark-haired woman. The two were instantly attracted and set up a conversation, leaving the men to their own devices. Nat studied the menu from which Mr Ratcliffe had just made a selection, seeing no need to utter anything more than a thank you as the other man handed it over. His attempts at conversation answered in the briefest manner, Mr Ratcliffe soon fell back to await his meal. Oriel felt shown up by her father’s rudeness and, burying her head in the menu, wished she had pretended not to notice the Ratcliffes’ gestures now.
‘Oriel tells us you’re from York,’ Mrs Ratcliffe was saying to Bright, who was trying in vain to select a meal from the unintelligible list. ‘It’s a small world, isn’t it? We used to live there ourselves a long time ago. We’ve been in the Midlands for about fifteen years now. The company Robert worked for has gone into liquidation so he’s having to go further afield. May I enquire what you do, Mr Maguire?’
Nat looked up frowning from his menu to correct the surname, but his wife looked so uncomfortable that he simply replied without elaboration, ‘I run me own business.’ Then he lowered his eyes to the menu again. Oriel felt sick with embarrassment.
‘And you’re going to the capital – any particular reason why you chose Melbourne?’ asked Mr Ratcliffe.
‘No. Just off on spec.’
‘How very brave!’ Mrs Ratcliffe smiled her admiration. ‘Robert has a post lined up for him. And we have friends there who’ve found us a place to live. I’m afraid we’re not as intrepid as you. Oriel tells us you have no close relatives to leave behind, but still the wrench must be awful.’
Bright issued mental thanks to her daughter for saving on explanations. ‘There are things I’ll miss but, well, it’s an adventure, isn’t it?’
‘It certainly is! More so for you, I imagine, with no people out there. Oriel’s told us you don’t know anyone at all in Melbourne. Well, I’ll give you our address.’ She delved into her handbag, scribbled on a small notepad, ripped out the page and with a plump hand gave it to Bright. ‘You must keep in touch. It’ll be so lonely for you at first, you must have someone from home to talk to.’
Bright gave genuine thanks and tapped Nat’s knee beneath the table. He gave an unequivocal nod.
‘I’m sorry, you’re trying to decide upon a meal,’ said Dorothy’s mother, noticing that his concentration was more for the menu. ‘I’ll stop chattering and leave you in peace for five minutes.’ Though she exchanged glances with her husband that said she considered Oriel’s father to be less than sociable.
‘Actually I can’t read a word of it,’ confessed Bright, an admittance her husband would never have made, nor Oriel neither. ‘Could you?’
‘Glad to be of use,’ replied Dorothy’s mother.
Bright thanked her. ‘What a good job we met you – isn’t it, Nat?
After the meal, to Nat’s disgruntlement, they were forced to return to the ship in the Ratcliffes’ company, but once they had gone to their cabin he felt free to complain to his wife. ‘Oriel told us this, Oriel told us that – what else has she told them? And I knew her not changing her name’d cause bother. Mr Maguire indeed! God, I thought the woman’d never shut up.’
‘Aw, I thought she was lovely.’ Bright slipped off her coat.
‘You would,’ teased Nat. ‘She yammers as good as you do. Surprised she didn’t get cramp in her tongue.’
She punched him. ‘I’ll be glad of her when we arrive! It’s a bit frightening not to know another soul.’
‘You know me, don’t you?’
She laughed. ‘You’ve never set foot in the place. Mrs Ratcliffe has friends who know the ropes. I’ll be glad of any advice they can give – or aren’t I allowed to go visiting?’
He performed a theatrical heave of breast. ‘Eh, I suppose so. Just so long as you don’t expect me to put up with any more nights like tonight.’
‘Oh, I’m sure you’ll get used to Dorothy’s parents after you’ve spent Christmas and New Year with them as well,’ Bright laughed, and fell into his embrace.
* * *
The festive season was spent under the Mediterranean sun. It didn’t feel at all like Christmas despite the crew’s efforts to organize carol singing and pantomimes, and the exchange of gifts that Nat and his wife and daughter had purchased in London. He was surprised to receive a present from Oriel, even though he had bought her one. Though he was intelligent enough to realize that she was the type of person who would buy her worst enemy a gift so as not to make him feel left out, and he attached no great meaning to the shaving mug with the picture of St Paul’s Cathedral on it.
After a morning service on deck held by the Commander, Christmas Day was a round of eating and drinking, and in the evening a concert was given by some of the bolder passengers. On Boxing Day there was an afternoon of games and a fancy-dress party to look forward to later, for which Oriel and her friend plundered the ship of its brass curtain rings, pennants, sou’westers and even a crutch from the sickbay to concoct an impersonation of Long John Silver.
‘Nay, I can’t be doing with daft games,’ said Nat when asked what he would be going as, and despite his wife’s participation refused to budge. Chess tournaments, tugs of war and relay races – throughout all he remained aloof in his deck chair, though Bright and Oriel noticed to their amusement that he could not retain a straight face at the ridiculous concert performed by the Australian soldiers dressed up as women.
Bright failed to understand why he refused to participate when he was obviously so bored. ‘After what you said to us when we set sail about taking your mind off the journey, you’re a fine one to talk.’
‘I’m happy enough to sit here and think.’ He gazed out upon turquoise waters and gave a sound of disbelief. ‘Look at the colour of that sea! I wonder what that land is?’
Oriel viewed the horizon. ‘I think it could be Crete.’
‘We passed Crete days ago,’ said her father.
‘I don’t think so.’
‘We did.’ Nat was adamant.
‘I didn’t notice it.’ Oriel had inherited her father’s annoying trait of being convinced that the other person was wrong.
‘You always want the last bloody word, you do.’
‘No, I don’t.’
Nat sighed and looked at his watch. There was another five hours before they could dress for dinner. He really looked forward to the evening when there would be dancing, one of the rare activities in which he took part so long as he did not have to dance with anyone but his wife.
‘Why don’t you go and see if you can find Dorothy?’ suggested Bright. ‘Have a game of deck tennis or whatever.’
‘She’s having her hair done like mine,’ replied her daughter with a look at her own watch. ‘But she might be finished by now. I’ll go see.’
Throughout her daughter’s absence Bright’s anxious eyes would sporadically flick up from the book she was purporting to read, lest Oriel had been waylaid by a member of the military. Beside her in his deck chair, Nat had his eye on the soldiers too.
His wife squinted at him. ‘You can’t help worrying, can you?’
‘What? Oh! Aye, sorry. I’m not just keeping me eye on them for that reason. Their uniforms have given me an idea for a little business venture. The army’s going to have a lot of surplus equipment now this w
ar’s over. I might take it off their hands.’
‘But who’d want stuff like that?’
‘You’d be surprised. There’s a buyer for everything.’
‘Oh well, I know nothing about business.’ His wife smiled and tried to reimmerse herself in the printed page but his agitated foot-tapping made this impossible. Eventually, she closed the volume and stretched in her deck chair. For a time she reclined, face directed at the sky, eyes closed. Then she turned to him with an exclamation.
‘D’you remember when—’ She broke off with a smile. ‘I forgot, we weren’t together then.’
His tanned face was moved to recognition. ‘That’s what I find myself doing too! It’s hard to believe that we were ever apart. I couldn’t survive on me own now.’
‘Well, you don’t have to.’ She leaned towards him in an affectionate manner.
Oriel, unable to find Dorothy, had wandered all the way around the ship without being accosted by soldiers and now approached the place where she had left her parents. Seeing their heads close together, how intimately her mother was talking, her cheek almost touching Nat’s, who was hanging on her every word, Oriel faltered. It happened every time. Every time she left them to their own devices and then returned she felt this awful sense of exclusion. Instead of joining them she remained where she was and leaned on the rail, snatching the occasional sideways glance to await the wave of her mother’s hand that would invite her into their company. But she might as well have been invisible.
Suddenly two hands grabbed her around the waist and, taken off guard she turned angrily on her tormentor, Dorothy, who had sneaked up behind her and now stood grinning.
‘Bet you hoped it was a soldier!’
‘What a stupid thing to do! You could’ve pushed me overboard – not to mention what damage you might have done to my giblets.’ The injured party rubbed her waist and glared with tears of rage in her eyes, confusing the joker with her hostility. ‘You big stupid devil!’
A Complicated Woman Page 9
