Nat found his voice. ‘We can’t do that! She’ll go mad if she thinks we’ve been spying on her.’
Bright agreed. ‘Well, I don’t suppose there’s much we can do – apart from encouraging her to find a nice man to marry. I’d better put it back where I found it.’
‘Aye.’ Nat seemed reluctant to part with it. ‘But mebbe we’d just better check it over a bit more first.’
Oriel could not tell if the book had been touched for it was still there when she returned to her room, but from the number of hints her mother kept making about marriage, she rather suspected it had. Fielding the questions, she replied that she had no intention of getting married just yet, and changed the subject.
‘Do you want me to help with the garden tomorrow?’ Her parents were together landscaping a garden out of an acre of scrubland at the back of the house. They had already planted trees and shrubs and had carved out lawns and flower borders. Even in its infancy the garden looked wonderful and had become so much of a passion between them that they were out there whenever Nat had any spare time.
Giving up on the topic of matrimony, Bright exchanged a look of despair with her husband and replied, ‘If you like.’
Thus, on this hot summer’s afternoon towards a Christmas that would be their first in Australia, Oriel found herself pulling weeds from the front garden whilst her mother and father were around the back. Despite the new understanding with her father she still sometimes felt as if she were intruding upon her parents’ privacy. It could be just a certain look or a mood that she perceived, but she could guess that her company was superfluous and would make herself scarce. Would she be for ever compelled to bear this incredible loneliness?
It was in such a mood that she performed her toil this sabbath afternoon with the sun on her back, tugging haphazardly at weeds, her languid gaze fixed to the task in hand but never actually seeing it, mind far away.
‘Hullo there, miss!’
Hearing the Australian accent, Oriel looked up and peered from under her large straw hat to see a wiry, rather impudent-looking man beyond the fence.
‘Would you be the lady of the house?’
Trowel poised over another weed, she answered, ‘I’m sorry we don’t wish to buy anything.’
The man lost his friendly demeanour and looked crushed. ‘Aw, fair goes for an old digger, miss! I’ve only sold one box all day.’
‘Oh, you’re selling matches.’ She rose, almost tripping over the hem of her navy and white dress, and spoke in the bumbling manner of one who is experiencing guilt – after all the times she had condemned her mother for buying unwanted clothespegs from gypsies she was discovering how hard it was to give a direct rebuff. ‘Well, actually I do need a box of matches, I’ll just get my purse.’ She was about to traipse to the house when she saw that he was smiling again. An extremely attractive but mischievous smile.
‘Did I say I was selling matches?’
‘But—’
‘I asked if you were the lady of the house. I’m not selling anything. Course, if you do need some…’ He took a box of matches from his pocket and rattled them at her, grinning.
In repose beneath the shade of his hat his eyes had held the opaque quality of the muddy Yarra. Now, when he smiled the sun rippled on these waters, bringing them alive with the reflection of greenwood.
‘I’m awfully sorry.’ Oriel looked chastened and puzzled at the same time, and went across the grass to introduce herself, the fence still between them. ‘We don’t get many visitors apart from haw— salesmen.’ His clothes were of poor quality but clean. He had obviously paid a great deal of attention to his boots. Her father would approve. Her first impression of wiriness had not been mistaken; however, she noticed that his arms and wrists were very solid. She watched as he took off his hat to reveal light brown hair, parts of which had been bleached by the sun to a colour resembling straw, appearing even more vivid against the nutbrown of his skin. Her eyes followed a trickle of moisture down the side of his nose, feeling an immediate jolt of attraction, though the face sported no classical feature. He was not tall but possibly slightly taller than her father. He was saying something to her but Oriel was mesmerized.
Suddenly aware that her mouth was hanging open, she tried to collect her senses and said, ‘Er, I’m sorry, I didn’t answer your question. No, the house belongs to my parents. I’m Oriel Maguire.’
‘Ah, we’ve got the same name!’ he exclaimed, reaching over the fence to shake her hand vigorously.
She raised her eyebrows. ‘Maguire?’
‘No – Oriel.’ He chuckled whilst she, feeling silly, laughed too and realizing that she had been ogling him, removed her fingers from his grip and shoved her hands deep into her big patch pockets out of embarrassment. ‘Sorry, it’s a very nice name – mine’s Daniel Maguire. Doing a good job on the front yard.’ He turned admiring eyes on the garden whilst she continued to look at him.
‘Thank you.’ Oriel had the strange impression that she had known this man for years instead of only minutes and responded to his easy manner by asking, ‘Do you like gardening?’
‘Nah! Don’t do it less I’m forced.’ He chatted amiably for a moment longer then took a deep breath. ‘Well… don’t like to trouble yer but I’m looking for Melinda Elliot. I’ve been to her mum and dad’s place and they told me she works for you.’
‘Yes, she lives—’ With a start Oriel realized that this was Alice’s father and the spell was broken. Her whole attitude changed. Melinda said he had been wounded in the war but he looked as fit as a flea. Relinquishing all desires she asked somewhat curtly from beneath her large straw hat, ‘May I take a message?’
The abrupt change in mood did not appear to faze Daniel, who stood firm, even seemed amused by her. ‘I’d like to convey my intentions to Mel, if that’s all right with you.’
‘Very well, but I don’t know whether or not she’ll see you.’ Unsmiling, she removed her gardening gloves, turned on her heel and marched to the house. Once inside she abandoned all decorum, ripping off her hat and pelting through the rooms to where Melinda was breastfeeding Alice.
‘He’s here! The child’s father, he’s here – at least I think it’s him.’ Ignoring the teeth of the ten-month-old child clamped to an elongated nipple, Melinda dashed through the house to the front window, peeped from behind the curtain and sucked in her breath. ‘Aw, it is Dan!’
‘D’you want me to give him his marching orders?’
‘Get orf with yer – ow!’ Melinda jumped as the child bit her, then referred herself to Oriel again. ‘Oh, I’ll do me block with him all right – but I’m not mad enough to do it till I get the wedding over!’ Her face radiated gladness and she cuddled little Alice who, unmoved, still sucked. ‘Aw, I knew he’d come back once he’d had time to get over the shock.’ She began to retrace her steps to her own room. ‘Could yer fetch him in, please, Orrie?’
‘Let him in?’ Aghast, Oriel pursued her to the sleepout.
‘Well, I reckon your dad’d gimme a serve if I was to go out in the front yard like this, don’t you?’ She flourished the bosom that swelled from the open flaps of her blouse. ‘And this is the only bit of private space I’ve got. Tell him to gimme a minute to get meself decent.’ She spoke to the child. ‘Make the most of that, miss! Now your dad’s back I’m not just a wetnurse any more.’
Oriel sighed and went back through the house and outside. The man whom she had deliberately left beyond the gate had invited himself in and was now seated on the front step of the verandah, fingering the brim of his hat. He rose at her arrival.
‘Melinda will see you in a moment.’
There was a chilly interval of twenty seconds. She shoved her hands into her dress pockets and looked around at the fuchsias, oleanders and cotoneasters, snatching occasional glances at him, and noting that despite his devil-may-care attitude a twitching muscle in his jaw betrayed nervousness. The air was still and sweat began to drip off them both. Somewhere in a nearby wattle an
insect gave an imitation of someone winding a watch. Daniel, hat in one hand, dashed the back of his wrist across his brow and asked, ‘How long’ve yer been in Australia, Oriel?’
She bridled at this informality. Her tone was cool. ‘Almost a year.’
He gave a sage nod and answered, ‘Thought you hadn’t been here long. Born here meself.’ Then he proceeded to donate his family history, though it was apparent she wasn’t interested. ‘Me grandad jumped ship back in the time o’ the gold rush.’ He looked down at his clothes and grinned. ‘Don’t need to ask me if he struck gold, do yer?’
Oriel’s moonbeam face dealt him a tight smile, then glanced through the open front door. ‘Melinda should be ready now. Would you care to come with me?’ Half expecting him to feel awkward at the expensive interior she undertook a swift inspection of his face but he was apparently unimpressed and simply smiled when he caught her looking at him. She marched on through the rambling house towards Melinda’s sleepout. As they reached the rear hallway a tired-looking Nat emerged from the back garden and immediately stopped to frown at the visitor, who merely nodded and smiled and issued a ‘G’day.’
Nat muttered an hello, then turned to his daughter. ‘Who’s this?’
‘Nobody.’ Oriel continued walking.
‘Daniel Maguire’s the name.’ Swapping his hat to his left hand, the visitor offered a quick handshake before seeing that Oriel was not prepared to wait. ‘I’m a friend of Melinda’s.’
Still frowning, Nat watched the two of them disappear into the sleepout, then rushed back out into the garden where his wife kneeled weeding the flowerbed, Victoria in her pram nearby. ‘Our Oriel’s just taken a young bloke into Melinda’s room.’
Bright suspended her task, wincing as she straightened her back, and peered up from beneath her wide-brimmed hat, looking slightly shocked. ‘Who is he?’
Nat lifted his hat, dashed the sweat from his brow, and replaced it. ‘Said his name was Daniel Maguire.’
Immediately she thought of her own family. As far as she knew there were no relatives called Daniel. ‘I don’t think he’s one of ours.’
‘No, no! He’s a friend of Melinda’s. The cheeky bugger, acting as if he owned the – eh!’ Nat had just spotted Oriel emerging through the back door. ‘Come here, you! What d’you think you’re larking at, taking him into that lass’s bedroom?’
She hurried forward to explain, whispering, ‘He’s Alice’s father!’ Bright was delighted. ‘Ooh, he’s come back to marry her!’
‘I couldn’t tell you, I got thrown out before anything interesting was said.’ Her daughter looked peeved.
‘Get back in there and listen at t’door!’ ordered Nat. ‘You never know what they might be up to.’
‘I’m not doing that!’ Oriel feigned outrage. ‘I’m going to wait on the front verandah to catch him on the way out. If I happen to overhear anything on the way past Mel’s door…’ She tossed a cheeky grin at her parents before heading back to the house.
Bright stopped her with the hissed question, ‘What does he look like?’ Gorgeous! was Oriel’s instinctive response, but as he belonged to someone else it was hardly a fitting exclamation. She threw a brief jocular comment over her shoulder. ‘He’s got a broken nose and a wooden leg.’
Her mother turned to Nat. ‘Is she having me on?’
‘Well, he’s got the twisted conk for sure but he didn’t appear to be limping. He looks a right larrikin. Go in and have a look for yourself. Just barge in and pretend you didn’t know he was here.’
His wife laughed and bent down to resume her weeding. ‘You’re terrified we’re going to end up with another baby in the house.’
He tutted and strode off. Bright called to ask where he was going. ‘If nobody else’ll do it I’ll have to.’ Reaching the rear wall he hovered by Melinda’s window, ear cocked whilst his wife gestured forcefully for him to come away.
On the front verandah Oriel waited in the December sunshine, occasionally sighing and pacing the wooden boards until eventually Daniel emerged alone. She probed the virescent eyes enquiringly but the man simply grinned, nodded and replaced his hat, announcing, ‘See y’again, Oriel,’ before going on his way.
Frustrated, she watched his retreating lope for a second or two before rushing back into the house to accost Melinda. ‘Well?’
‘We’re gonna be married at Christmas!’ Melinda almost threw the whining Alice on to the bed and approached her friend with unrestrained excitement. ‘And I want you to be my bridesmaid.’
Oriel gasped and sat down on the bed – would have sent Alice bouncing to the floor had the child’s mother not made a quick grab to save her. ‘Will yer be in it?’ Melinda grinned expectantly.
‘Of course! That’s wonderful, Mel, I’m really happy for you. You’re so lucky.’ She saw again the impudent grin and chased it from her mind. ‘Where’s the wedding going to be?’
‘Dunno yet! Dan’s a mick but he hasn’t been to church for years so there’ll be no problem. Don’t breathe a word to me mum ’n’ dad, though – they’d go right orf.’
‘I thought you said you’d known each other since you were kids?’
‘Yeah, but I didn’t mean we come from the same place! We only used to meet at bush concerts an’ that. Once the wedding’s over they can call him what they like. Not that I have anything against Catholics,’ Melinda reassured her friend, then swung the grizzling Alice up in the air. ‘Your daddy’s come home! I always knew he would. Your mum and dad’re invited too, by the way!’ This last sentence was for Oriel, who smiled.
‘I know they’ll be delighted.’ She was curious. ‘Did he give any indication of what made him come back?’
‘Said he’d had time to work things out in his head and knew he never should’ve went and left me but he just felt he didn’t have anything to offer us before.’
Oriel noted that there was no mention of love. ‘So, he’s got somewhere for you to live?’
‘Oh yeah, don’t worry, we’re not dumping ourselves on you!’ Melinda shifted Alice to straddle her hip. ‘Danny’s got it all worked out. He’s applied for the Soldier Settlement Scheme and got a little place in the Mallee – gonna try his hand at farming. They give you six hundred quid and you don’t have to pay anything back for three years till yer get going. Aw, what a Chrissy present. It’s all happened so fast I feel like I’m dreaming. Whad’yer think to him – isn’t he beaut?’
‘Very attractive,’ agreed Oriel. ‘But I must say I expected somebody younger.’
‘Cripes, you make him sound like an old bloke! He’s only twenny-six!’
‘Oh, I didn’t mean he looked old! It’s just that I was expecting someone immature from what you’ve told me. Well, I’m really glad for you, Mel. But I’m going to miss you.’
‘Oh, me too! But once we’re settled you’ll have to come for a holiday.’
‘I can’t wait. In the meantime let’s go and tell Mother and Father your good news.’
Melinda sniggered and cast her rapturous gaze to the garden. ‘I reckon they already know. Your dad was sticky-beaking under the window, pretending he’s weeding the flowerbed.’
‘Isn’t he the limit!’ gasped Oriel, but she laughed and taking her friend’s arm went out to share the glad tidings.
* * *
Upon Melinda’s announcement, Bright made the suggestion that they hold the reception here, it being quite a large house, and despite complaints from Nat she knew that he would do anything to please his dear wife and so the arrangements went ahead. In the city department stores there were incongruous window displays of cotton-wool snow, Santa and reindeers, whilst outside the sun baked everything to a crisp. Bright, Nat and Oriel toured the arcades, having done their own Christmas shopping, now looking for a wedding gift. Nat had complained that he was allowing the girl to keep the painting he had done but his wife had said they should buy her a proper gift as well, so offending him. He had been shirty all morning.
Bright sighed. ‘I don�
��t feel at all Christmassy.’ Though at least she could face the crowds without fear today.
Oriel admitted she lacked the festive spirit too. ‘No, I can’t see me ever getting used to it. It spoils things in a way, doesn’t it? I mean, what’s the point of decorating a tree?’ In her memory, Christmas meant snuggling round the fire with roast chestnuts, coming home to a warm bed from Midnight Mass and waking in anticipation of a snowfall.
‘And church was half empty on Sunday! It’s disgusting. Even folk who aren’t regular churchgoers usually make an effort to turn up at this time o’ year.’
Nat juggled his parcels in order to open a new packet of cigarettes. ‘They’re all on summer holidays.’ When his wife looked at him enquiringly he enlarged. ‘I’ve told you, everything’s arse road on here—’
‘Don’t say that in the street!’
‘You know how our school kids get their month off in summer? Well, Aussie summer just happens to fall at Christmas.’
‘Don’t remind me.’ Bright fanned her face. ‘I certainly don’t feel like cooking a huge dinner in this heat. I’ve decided to get caterers in.’
‘Hang on!’ he argued. ‘Isn’t it her parents’ job to pay for it?’
‘Well, as it’s doubling as our Christmas dinner too, I’d feel a bit mean. And there aren’t that many coming.’ The guest list consisted only of Melinda’s parents – Daniel’s having refused to come on hearing that he would be marrying a Protestant – grandparents, brothers, sisters and their respective spouses and children, plus a couple of Daniel’s friends who had served with him in the army.
‘However few there are there’ll be too many for me,’ said Nat. ‘I won’t be sorry to see the back of that lass. And while we’re on about it there’s one thing I do intend to get me own way on. If we get another maid, I do the hiring and she doesn’t live in. Think on,’ he added for Oriel’s benefit.
‘Aw, she’s a good lass,’ replied his wife. ‘I’ll miss her – but I’m glad he’s done right by her.’
‘Noble bugger,’ muttered Nat. Though secretly empathizing with the young man in one respect, he was annoyed at him too. Daniel had done the right thing by Melinda and it served to remind Nat of his own guilt.
A Complicated Woman Page 24
