A Complicated Woman

by Sheelagh Kelly

She uttered a dry laugh and accepted the glass of water he put to her lips. ‘God didn’t want me. I’m a reject from Heaven.’ Her gaze, still bloodshot, but quite lucid now, took in the pair of them. ‘Am I the only one who’s had it?’

  ‘’Fraid so,’ answered Nat. The likelihood that he would contract it now was slight.

  ‘Thank God. I don’t remember a thing. Oh, that fan’s making me feel dizzy.’ She closed her eyes. Nat went to turn it off, it had simply been used to keep her temperature down.

  As Bright regained her thought processes her calm demeanour was threatened by another concern. ‘What about the baby?’

  Nat looked awkward and lowered his voice, feeling embarrassed that his daughter was standing nearby. ‘Er, I’m not sure, love. You had a little bit of bleeding last night – nowt heavy. I tried to get t’doctor in to see you but he’s gone down with flu as well. They said they’d try and send another chap this morning.’

  Their daughter cast her gaze around the room pretending that she had not heard.

  Bright tried not to think about losing the baby. ‘You look fagged out.’

  ‘I am.’ Suddenly overwhelmed by fatigue he turned his heavy-lidded eyes to his daughter. ‘I think I’ll just get some kip, if you don’t mind.’

  Overjoyed that her mother was recovered, she stuttered a happy riposte and left the room.

  Nat looked fondly down at his wife. ‘Is there owt I can get you?’

  She offered a lazy smile. ‘No, just get in beside me and have a nap.’

  ‘I love you,’ he mumbled to her as he dragged his leaden body on to the double bed and relaxed into the mattress.

  * * *

  The nap lasted for ten hours. When he woke in the evening he found his wife refreshed and demanding food, though she was still worried about the baby, and a hasty visit from an overworked doctor the following day did little to reassure her. It was still intact, he said, but she must have bed rest for another week or so to avert the threatened abortion.

  ‘Abortion?’ Bright was horrified. ‘But I’d never – I want this baby!’ She burst into tears, forcing the doctor to explain that he was not casting aspersions on her morality, it was simply a medical term, an accident that had occurred due to her rise in temperature. He felt sure that as the haemorrhage was only slight, she would keep her much-wanted child – so long as she remained in bed.

  Bright could not have risen had she wanted to, her legs were too weak, but she was not averse to the pampering bestowed upon her and had no qualms about losing any independence. Nat enjoyed looking after her and after years of drudgery she was happy to let him.

  Though Mrs Ratcliffe had been making telephone enquiries throughout, Oriel rang Dorothy to let her know that her mother was truly mended.

  ‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ cried her friend. ‘I can’t tell you how relieved I am. I didn’t like to say before but you know those two rosy-cheeked sisters who went out with us – Mary and Jean? They’re dead. Yes, the flu. They came home from the dance and were dead in a few days!’

  ‘But they looked the picture of health!’

  ‘I know! But we went to their funeral so I know it’s true. I mean, I hardly knew them but… you don’t know what to say to their parents, do you? And Anne, that’s the girl whose family we lived with when we arrived, she’s had lots of friends who’ve died.’

  ‘Yes, I just keep thinking how lucky we are that none of us has caught it off Mother. There’s been a procession of funerals past our house all week.’ Without benefit of a newspaper, Oriel could not appreciate the extent of the devastation. In the days of her quarantine the wildfire epidemic had claimed thousands of people, including exhausted medical staff.

  ‘Neither I nor my brother is allowed to go out now – oh, but don’t worry I did manage to see Errol in the street before the embargo.’ Dorothy laughed at the sound of relief from the other end of the line. ‘The object of your affections has given me his number and asked me to ring when the danger’s over. He also says he knows how you must be feeling and that he’s thinking about you – so there, now you can relax!’

  In the knowledge that he would wait for her, Oriel decided not to go rushing off and abandoning her mother, but stayed in the house for some weeks until Bright was on her feet again, her baby safe, by which time the epidemic was showing signs of being on the wane. Even so, the longing to be with Errol made her vague and Bright sought to alleviate this mood tonight by suggesting she go out and enjoy herself.

  ‘I notice there’s a few dances advertised again. It should be safe enough now.’

  Receiving only a happy shrug, she made an exclamation. ‘Sorry, I’m not tutting at you but meself. I can’t possibly want to go again. Excuse me.’ And she traipsed wearily off to the closet.

  Never knowing what mood his daughter was going to be in – one minute warm to him, the next like an iceberg – Nat had reserved his conversation lately, but offered tentatively now, ‘Don’t mind me, you know.’

  Oriel was thinking of Errol and did not respond to her father for a moment. He took her thoughtful expression as a form of reluctance. ‘What I said about you bringing the flu home, I was just… well, you know.’ He couldn’t bring himself to say scared out of my bloody wits. ‘Here.’ Adopting a conspiratorial air he reached for his wallet and handed over a note. It was the only way he could show his fondness for her. ‘Quick, before your mother gets back,’ he said, as if it were some sort of crime. ‘Get yourself a new frock.’

  Oriel was touched, but out of fear of invoking perverted feelings, could not allow herself to display the newly found affection she felt for him. ‘Thanks, I will.’

  She reached to take it but at the last minute he flicked his hand away. ‘On one condition, that you don’t take that lass with you and leave us with that bloody baby.’ At Oriel’s expression he said, ‘Oh, go on then, take her if you must – but I aren’t buying her a new frock, mind.’

  She grinned and accepted the offer. ‘I feel sorry for Mel. She doesn’t get much chance of enjoyment and she’s such a good laugh.’

  ‘Aye, at my expense.’ He had finally been coaxed into paying wages, though not the full request. ‘Seven and six for a bit of cooking, all her food and board and she acts as if she’s hard done by. Why don’t you stick with that other lass?’

  ‘Dorothy? Oh, Dot’s my best friend. She’s good fun too, but she and Mel don’t get on.’

  Oriel pondered on how two such conflicting personalities could both be her friends. She supposed it was because she was attracted to different qualities in each of them. Whereas Melinda could bring out the impulsive side of Oriel’s nature, Dorothy was for more meaningful and serious conversation. Oriel could never convey to Melinda just how lonely and abandoned she sometimes felt but dear steadfast Dorothy was always there to listen.

  ‘The last time we all went out together—’ She broke off, remembering that it was the night that her mother had been stricken with influenza. ‘Well, they’re so different.’

  ‘Aye, I’d noticed,’ commented Nat. ‘That one in there, she’s too fond. Dorothy’s more your down-to-earth type.’

  ‘Oh, Mel’s down-to-earth too,’ countered Oriel.

  ‘When I say down-to-earth I don’t mean that far down. She’s a bit too straightforward for my liking, not to mention she’s always on t’scrounge for handouts. Anyway, take whoever you like and have a good time.’ He went back to his paper. ‘I might buy you a few more dresses if these house prices keep going up like they have been.’ Similar properties to the ones he had bought were now fetching up to fifty pounds more than they had three months ago. ‘That land you bought’s gone up too.’

  Too busy making plans, his daughter merely nodded. Melinda would be disappointed at not being invited to go out with her but Dorothy was the one who had the important telephone number, and so it was that Oriel contacted the latter and asked her to arrange a rendezvous with Errol. She balked at telling Melinda that she would not be able to go, but luckily there
was no need to, for her parents announced that they would be visiting the Ratcliffes on the same evening so Melinda was obliged to stay in and tend her child.

  As they were all headed for the same destination Nat gave his daughter a lift in his motorcar. He was more used to driving now, and there was less grinding and clanking, but Oriel noticed that his knuckles were white on the steering wheel as he reached the busier roads. Her own knuckles were white on the handle of her bag as she thought of the liaison ahead. When Nat also offered to run her and Dorothy into town to save them catching the train, she was quick to refuse. Bright was not impervious to the nervous air of her daughter, but made no comment, smiling contentedly behind the mesh veil on her sage-green hat, guessing that Oriel must be going to enjoy more than a dance.

  Mrs Ratcliffe, too, noted the air of preoccupation as she and her friend waved the girls off at the gate. ‘Are you meeting someone nice?’ She still held the concern that Oriel’s background might make her a bad influence, but Dorothy had cajoled her into letting the pair go out.

  Her daughter grinned. ‘Not me, I’m afraid, but this lucky girl is.’

  ‘I sincerely hope he isn’t a soldier,’ opined Mrs Ratcliffe. Much unrest had been stirred by the Returned Soldiers League’s fight to gain preference in employment for their members. This bitter issue between them and trade unionists had even caused pitched battles with police up in Brisbane.

  ‘No!’ Oriel did not consider it a lie – Errol was no longer a soldier. She squirmed self-consciously and hardly dared look at her mother. ‘I would have told you about him before but never seemed to get the chance.’

  Bright saw from her daughter’s expression that she set great store by this man. ‘Well, have a lovely time, and take care.’

  ‘Yes, and just remember,’ Mrs Ratcliffe advised both girls, ‘keep your hand on your ha’penny.’

  Misconstruing the adage Oriel patted her handbag. ‘We will.’ And linking arms they departed for their rendezvous, leaving a smiling Mrs Ratcliffe to quash her previous assessment of Dorothy’s friend.

  The same time and meeting place had been arranged. The girls arrived early at the copper-domed station, Oriel feeling particularly nervous as she waited on the Swanston Street steps beneath the row of train time indicators, listening to the trams go clanging back and forth across the wide intersection. She found that she could not recall what Errol looked like but had only an image of handsomeness in her mind. She was afraid that absence may have exaggerated his attraction but when he arrived on time, as virile as she remembered, her heart burgeoned with joy.

  Dorothy was very discreet and, not short of dance partners, left them to their own company all evening. Oriel and Errol found out more about each other – surnames, birthdays, ambitions and desires. Unlike many returned soldiers Errol had found work straight away in the office of an insurance firm in Collins Street, but his hope was to be a professional artist. He had done many sketches during his wartime service and was now in the process of turning them into works of art.

  ‘You’ll have to come and see them when they’re finished,’ he told her as they danced.

  Oriel replied that she would love to. ‘And in five years’ time I can tell everyone I saw Errol Windross’s work before he became famous.’ And she danced until she felt her heart would burst, so thankful was she to be alive, and that her mother was alive, and to be held in this intimate manner.

  Inebriated by happiness, she was nevertheless silent on the way home, not wanting to talk but to think only of this desirable man. Oriel and Errol. Errol and Oriel. If only he were called something different – the combined names made such a mouthful. The train swayed and rattled, jerking her body from side to side, but her mind was faraway. Suddenly conscious of Dorothy by her side she sought to issue profuse thanks to her friend.

  ‘Sorry I’m not much company, Ratty, it’s just—’

  ‘I know, you’re madly in love with him.’ Dorothy’s eyes stroked her like velvet.

  Oriel blushed and turned to study her reflection in the darkened train window. ‘I wouldn’t know about that.’

  ‘You are! And he is with you.’

  Oriel turned back to her friend. ‘D’you think so?’

  ‘Of course. He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?’ Dorothy’s grinning face swayed from side to side.

  Oriel shared a conspiratorial giggle. Was she in love with Errol? She truly did not know what falling in love meant. But if it meant that she felt a squirming in her belly when his eyes flickered over her, that she experienced all manner of unmentionable thoughts that she did not understand, then yes she was in love with him.

  ‘Are you going to see him again?’ asked Dorothy.

  ‘He’s asked me to go to the beach tomorrow afternoon at two. Hey, and d’you know he lives in Middle Brighton? Not sure where, though. He said he’d bring a friend so you won’t be bored – we’re meeting at Tommy Bent’s statue.’

  Her friend looked concerned. ‘Sorry, I can’t come! I said I’d help Helen to make a dress. I’d break it if I could but I promised.’

  Oriel bit her lip. ‘I can’t go on my own to meet two men. Maybe I could take Mel.’

  There came a scathing laugh. ‘Are you mad? Remember what she’s like. What if she takes a fancy to Errol?’

  Oriel laughed to negate this. ‘She won’t – and I felt awful leaving her behind tonight. I feel as if she’s expecting me to take her every time that I go out and I just can’t. Tomorrow might be a good idea.’

  ‘What about the baby?’

  ‘It’ll be a treat for Alice too.’

  ‘Oriel, you can’t do that! What will his friend think to her being an unmarried mother? He’ll think you’re the same as her.’ Dorothy clamped a hand over her mouth. ‘I’ve gone and done it again, haven’t I? I just mean that if you really like him it would be a bit risky.’

  Oriel fell mute, knowing exactly what was meant but feeling angry too, for the comment reflected on her own mother. Once she could forgive but these slips of Dorothy’s were becoming rather too common. Why didn’t she think before she opened her mouth?

  ‘Well, I’ve no one else so I’ll have to take her. Maybe Mother will look after Alice for a few hours.’

  ‘How can you even ask her in her condition?’ Apart from the fatigue caused by her pregnancy Bright was still suffering the after-effects of the flu.

  Oriel felt annoyed that Dorothy’s nature was more thoughtful than her own and tried to brush the matter aside. ‘Oh well, I’ll decide what to do later.’

  * * *

  Her infatuation taking precedence over all else, Oriel spent the next morning trying on different outfits. But the tussle over whether or not to ask her mother to look after Alice, and risk her father’s wrath, still preoccupied her. Dorothy was right – it wasn’t really fair. Dot was also right about the sort of impression that would be created by Melinda turning up with her baby. Oriel sighed and glared at what, to her, was an unattractive reflection in the mirror. Attempting to pull the ill-fitting dress over her head, she discovered she had forgotten to undo the buttons. The frantic struggle to extricate herself sent her into a rage which ended with her ripping the garment and hurling it to the floor with a ‘Sod it!’

  Every skirt she tried on seemed too tight. In the end she was forced to decide on one of them but chose a long-line jumper to cover imagined bulges. Eventually, too, she came up with a plan which might, with Melinda’s co-operation, solve her dilemma.

  After inviting the girl to join her on the date she added, ‘I have to ask you to do something, Mel. This is just for my sake. You’ll probably think I’m awful for asking but it’s going to create lots of problems and this man is very important to me.’

  In high spirits at the thought of going out, Melinda clapped her hands together, sending a cloud of flour into the air. ‘Tell me about him! Has he got pots of money?’

  ‘I couldn’t say but he’s really good-looking. I mean really.’

  ‘Hoho! Well, watch yo
ur step.’ The young woman picked up a rolling pin and wagged it at her friend, then went back to shaping the pastry.

  Oriel crossed her arms, watching the other’s competent little hands roll the pin back and forth, noting the white dust that had settled in her fluffy black hair. ‘He thinks he’s bringing his friend for Dorothy but she can’t come.’

  ‘And you imagine his mate’ll be disappointed? She’s built like a footy player! He’ll have a better time with me.’ The maid began to cut the pastry into shapes. ‘I hope he’s as handsome as yours. Pass me that baking tin, will yer? So what’s this other favour I have to do for you?’

  Oriel obeyed the command. ‘You can borrow anything out of my wardrobe you want… but would you mind pretending you’re a widow? I know you’ll think I’m awful—’

  ‘Course I don’t.’ Melinda seemed unoffended, deftly inserting the circles of pastry into each hollow. ‘I’ll be in it. So long as you tell your dad that me having the afternoon off is your idea. He thinks I’m enough of a bludger as it is. And I’ll expect to get some bathing togs out of it – unless you want me to swim in me birthday suit.’ She uttered a gay laugh, wiped her hands on a cloth and told Oriel, ‘Here, shove some jam in these while I go and have a gander in your wardrobe.’

  * * *

  When the two attractive young women approached Sir Thomas Bent’s statue, which stood at the apex of three roads, Errol was leaning over the nearby marble drinking fountain and did not see them at first. As he looked up, wiping his mouth and saw that Oriel’s companion had a pram, he nudged his friend and both looked askance.

  There was swift explanation. ‘I’m afraid Dorothy couldn’t make it! I knew how disappointed your friend would be so I invited Melinda along. She’s a widow, her husband was killed in the war.’

  Melinda, sporting a temporary wedding ring bought by Oriel, gave her lively smile and introduced the baby. ‘This is Alice. Had to bring her, hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘My troubles!’ David, Errol’s friend, was charming and stooped over the pram to tickle Alice’s ribs with a digit. ‘I can’t kid on I know much about babies but she’s very pretty like her mother.’