‘I’m sorry if you were offended by my offer. I really didn’t mean to insult you.’
‘I know you didn’t.’ He looked equally uncomfortable. ‘You just caught me on a bad day. Sorry for being snaky.’ At her smiling acceptance he added, ‘Anyway, you must’ve brought me luck ’cause I’ve found a job with a room to go with it, so I’ll soon be leaving here. Come and stand round my other side!’ In characteristic offhand manner, he dragged her to his left, then continued talking as though nothing had happened. Totally confused, but glad of Jimmy’s good fortune, Oriel stayed to chat with him for a time, trying to include Ray in her smile.
The next marching band came upon them, forcing her to shout above the blare of brass. ‘Have you heard anything more from Daniel?’
He looked down at her and for a second there lingered a knowing smirk upon his lips. But then above the sound of the band he proceeded to shout out the latest news, which she absorbed with a smiling nod, trying to include Ray in the conversation until he accosted another young lady who came to stand beside him and she could safely confine her attention to Magee.
‘Daniel said you were in a band!’
The bass drum gave way to the more delicate sound of flutes. Jimmy lowered his head to hers in order to be heard without shouting. ‘Not this kind. I play the violin. Used to be in a quartet before the war.’ He offered her a piece of chewing gum which she refused.
‘Do you still play in it?’
A shake of head. ‘They all got killed.’ He looked at her. Oriel felt rather afraid of what was in his eyes.
‘I know Dan asked you to keep an eye on me. But I’ll be right now I’ve got this job. You could come and share a few words with Ray and the others if yer get the time though.’
Oriel blushed and tapped her foot. ‘I will. I’m sorry I was such a – well, I didn’t know what to say to him.’
‘Just say the same as yer would to a normal bloke. I know it’s hard to tell what he’s saying but yer’ll get used to it. Just one bit of advice: don’t stand to his side, stand right in front of him.’
Oriel took this to mean that it would be easier to decipher his words. ‘So I can see his face, read his lips?’
A sudden shriek like an off-key flute caused all heads to turn, catching Ray’s arm up the young woman’s skirt.
‘No, so you can see his hands.’ Jimmy gave a reproachful laugh at his friend as the red-faced victim hurried away. ‘That’s why I told you to move a minute ago.’
Oriel bit her lip to avoid laughing.
Jimmy spoke up above the music for his friend to hear, a note of mockery in his voice. ‘He thinks just ’cause he’s a cripple he can get away with it – and the rest of ’em are just as bad. You’ve been warned.’
‘Thanks, I’ll bear that in mind.’ Oriel looked at Ray, who gave her a contorted wink. She laughed out loud at him. Then, more at ease in the men’s presence, she continued to stand and watch with them until the final brass band marched by.
* * *
After that day, she felt confident enough to stop to chat with the men in wheelchairs whenever she passed those iron gates, often taking them small gifts of cigarettes and chocolate and asking after Jimmy Magee, whom she had never seen since Anzac Day – nor did she expect to, though every time she heard a brass band she thought of him.
But despite her sympathies, jazz bands were to become of more relevance to this vital young woman than military ones. Shortly after Anzac Day, an exciting new sound suddenly burst upon the genteel Melbourne suburb where she lived and Oriel threw herself wholeheartedly into its pursuit. It did not please everyone. Whilst awaiting her turn in the shop or riding on trams, she would overhear grumblings from old folk that the country was going to ruin under these flappers and trade union Bolsheviks and how things were not the same as before the war, but to Oriel, who had been here little more than a year, and for other young Australians, this was a time of optimism, of picture theatres, new music, and outrageous dancing.
On this wintry eve she and her peers had flocked to the local town hall to indulge in the new risqué pursuit. Oriel, having practised with a book of instructions for hours at home to her gramophone records, was able to school others in these gyrations, pleased at the stir she created.
But this kind of music was too frantic to keep up all night for both dancers and musicians, and as the band took a well-earned break she collapsed breathlessly next to Dorothy and the others who had tired two dances before her. For once her friend had been allowed out without Cuthbert, though only because he was working overtime stock-taking. She had been instructed to meet him later.
After catching her breath Oriel turned shining eyes to study her friend, who had a secretive twitch to her lips. ‘Just what are you up to, Ratty? You’ve been treating us to that smug expression all night.’
The brown eyes twinkled as Dorothy enveloped the entire clique in her smile and made a grand announcement. ‘I’m getting married in the spring!’
There were squeals, the shimmer of sequins and the trembling of fringed skirts as girls made excited congratulations. ‘You little devil, you’ve really been saving that up for effect, haven’t you?’ Oriel gripped her friend’s long arm and shook it, eves bright as the diamanté on her headband. ‘When did he ask you?’ She was told, last night. ‘Oh, it’s really wonderful news, Dot.’ But then the reality dawned on her and she bemoaned the loss of yet another girlfriend. ‘Wonderful for you at any rate. I’ll have no one to go out dancing with now.’ She put a cigarette into a holder and lighted it, her own comment bringing thoughts of Melinda, who had not written in months. Perhaps that was just as well. Oriel would only be reminded of the man she could not have.
‘I doubt you need me to hold your hand.’ Dorothy looked radiant. ‘You’ve been twirling about like a dervish all night. Anyway, I’m sure the others would enjoy having you along.’ She looked at the girls who had accompanied them tonight. One or two of them gave verification to this, but although Oriel nodded she knew she would not take up the offer for she was barely acquainted with them and she would feel as if she were merely tagging along. ‘Both my friends married – nobody seems to want me.’ She blew a stream of smoke at the glittering globe suspended from the ceiling. Who would risk the embarrassment of marrying someone who was not only born out of wedlock but soiled goods too?
Dorothy spotted Arthur looking hopefully across the dance floor and laughed. ‘He wouldn’t say no.’
Oriel turned vicious. ‘I would, though. I’m not that desperate. How could you wake up to a face like that every day? I hate and loathe having to look at it even in here.’
Her more serene friend batted her eyelids. ‘You seem undecided.’
Oriel made a face and took another drag of her cigarette.
After more avid discussion over Dorothy’s wedding, one of the group asked, ‘How many children do you want, Dot?’
‘Cuddy wants two. I think that’s enough.’
‘I don’t want any,’ said Oriel firmly. ‘A husband will do for me.’ Instantly her mind embraced Daniel.
One of the plainer members of the group had taken umbrage against Oriel for her cruel remark about Arthur. ‘Why bother getting married if you don’t want children!’
Dragged away from her imaginary embrace, she frowned. ‘You don’t just get married to breed.’
‘I thought that was the whole point of it,’ retorted the other. ‘What do you get married for then?’
Oriel looked away in disgust, unwilling to voice her intimate thoughts to this dunce. To share your life completely with another, she thought silently. To be able to have one special person to whom you can say absolutely anything and know they still love you. Small chance of that for me.
When she got home it was to the sound of her father’s racking cough and she sighed, for it had been driving her mad all day. She frowned as her baby sister came crawling gleefully across the carpet at high speed towards her, and took a side step, asking, ‘What’s she doing up
?’
Bright was sitting by the fireplace listening to music and put a finger to her lips. ‘The doctor’s just in there so don’t say anything you’ll regret later. I had to call him out. Your father was almost sick with coughing, woke Vicky up. I can’t get her back to bed.’
With her elder sister now seated, the nine-month-old baby paused on the carpet like a frog, before targeting Oriel once again, playing with the buckles on her sister’s shoes. Wearing a tight smile, Oriel allowed her to continue, then glanced at Bright as another burst of coughing drowned the chamber music.
In the bedroom an exhausted Nat was fastening the buttons of his shirt.
‘Queensland,’ rasped the doctor in his Scottish brogue.
‘King’s fishpond,’ replied Nat, causing the physician to frown at him. ‘Sorry, I thought it was some kind of word game. What d’you mean, Queensland?’
‘You’ll have to go and live there,’ said the doctor as if the patient were an idiot. ‘You’ll get bronchitis every year if you stay down here.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that,’ replied Nat, breathing gingerly to avoid a fit of coughing. ‘We’ve just got settled here, we like it – anyway, I’ve got a good business going.’
‘Stay here and die then.’ The doctor clicked his bag shut and made for the door.
‘D’you mean it?’ Bloodshot eyes showed concern.
The man turned a poker face. ‘Aye. Your lungs are shot to blazes. Did nobody ever tell you?’
Nat admitted that someone had. ‘But I thought if I came to Australia I wouldn’t have to face winter.’
‘You won’t if you go to Queensland. You won’t have many to face if you stay here either.’
There was a grimace from Nat who said he knew nothing of the northern state. Having lived in several different towns there himself the doctor devoted a moment to instructing his patient on the diversity of the climate, and said that there was no need to go as far as the tropics, somewhere lower down the coast would be far more comfortable.
Nat nodded acceptance. ‘I’ll think about it, er, but don’t tell my wife. I’ll have to break it to her gently. She loves it here.’
When the doctor had gone Nat returned to his family, greeting Oriel with a wheeze. ‘Now then, done enough jazzing around for one night, have you?’
‘Yes, but I’ll be going again next Tuesday.’ Her face shone.
‘Eh, I don’t know how you get the energy.’ He eased himself into a chair beside the fire and sat hunched over, his breathing shallow.
‘I was just saying to Mother, Dot’s getting married in the spring.’
‘Is she, by gum?’ he rattled. ‘I hope she’s picked a good un.’ His words erupted on a staccato series of barks, alarming the resident possum in the roof, who showed his annoyance by thudding around. No one commented, they had grown used to his presence by now.
‘Did the doctor give you any medicine?’ Bright came over with extra cushions to try to make her husband more comfortable.
He pulled out his handkerchief and attempted to stifle the noise. ‘Aye, he said it should clear it up in no time.’ Nostrils flared and eyes bulging, he continued to cough. Irritated, Oriel wanted to leave the room but felt that would be too blatant.
Suffering with him, Bright sat on the arm of his chair rubbing his heaving back. ‘I wish I could make it summer for you all the time.’ She sighed. ‘I must’ve been daft to believe those who said there’d be permanent warmth here. Still, I suppose it’s the same everywhere, we all have to have our share of winter. And if people had warned me I’d still have come, wouldn’t you? I love it here.’ The tone of her voice showed sincerity.
‘Aye.’ Nat had stopped coughing and gazed into space, hating the smell of his own breath. ‘Aye, I do.’ How could he pass on the doctor’s news now?
She delivered a solicitous hug. ‘Feeling better?’
‘Better?’ He shoved his handkerchief away and tried to look alert. ‘I’m going jazzing with her next week.’
* * *
The following week, however, the local paper announced that the jazz dances were to be discontinued: the town hall was otherwise engaged.
‘It’s all a ruse by the old fogies who run the committee!’ Oriel complained bitterly. ‘Do they think that our dancing’s going to summon the devil or something?’
Bright shivered. ‘Oh, don’t talk like that.’
Nat, recovered from the worst of his illness, was more liberal. ‘I reckon it’s just ’cause these new dances take a bit o’ getting used to for old folk.’
‘But you’re old and you don’t complain about them,’ said Oriel.
‘Eh, not that bloody old! I could keep up with you any time.’ To prove this her father put on a gramophone record and started to kick up his heels like he had seen her doing.
‘Oh don’t, you’ll start yourself coughing again!’ warned his wife, and so he did, but she had to laugh for it wasn’t often that they were treated to such spontaneous displays from Nat. Oriel broke down and giggled along with her mother. He took their amusement in good part, coughing and banging his chest with a fist.
‘I don’t know what’s so funny. Once the powers that be see a respectable chap like me participating they’ll realize there’s nowt to be worried about.’
‘My God, close the curtains, if they see that they’ll ban it altogether,’ laughed Oriel.
But it turned out that her father was right. As people grew accustomed to the modern ways of young people there were more jazz dances to be enjoyed throughout the year and in early October there was also Dorothy’s wedding. Once again Oriel was a bridesmaid. With Cuthbert’s family as humourless as its son, it was a rather testing afternoon. Unwilling to question the bride, Oriel could not help but comment upon the strained atmosphere to one of Dorothy’s other friends.
‘It’s almost as bad as a funeral. Don’t their families get on with each other?’
The other bridesmaid explained. ‘It’s the Grand Final and nobody bothered to tell Mr and Mrs Ratcliffe before they arranged everything.’
At Oriel’s look of incomprehension she hissed, ‘Footy! It’s Richmond against Collingwood. The last place all these men want to be today is at a wedding!’
Dorothy seemed not to notice the faces as flat as punctured footballs, oblivious to all but her groom, and for this same reason by the beginning of December she and Oriel were seeing rather less of each other. With the newlyweds now living in Middle Brighton one might have expected this proximity to lead to more frequent socializing, yet this was not the case. The bride had fallen pregnant on her honeymoon and Cuthbert was treating her like an invalid, forbidding her to go out on an evening unless accompanied by himself. Dorothy viewed this as an indication of his devotion, but Oriel guessed it was just an excuse to keep her from unsuitable company, and as she did not particularly want him listening in on her conversations she made the decision to visit her friend whenever she had time through the day and he was at work.
When they did eventually meet, shortly before Christmas, her friend appeared thrilled about the baby, exhibiting the layette in front of Oriel, who had to pretend interest.
‘Aren’t they tiny?’ Oriel exclaimed over the collection of doll-like garments.
‘A good job, too.’ The mother-to-be gave a fearful laugh. ‘I hope it’s the minutest baby ever born. I’m really dreading it.’
‘At least it’s a long way off,’ comforted Oriel, who could not imagine anything worse.
‘It’s not just the birth, it’s the things they do to you.’ Dorothy lowered her voice even though they were the only two in the house. ‘I had no idea until I went to the doctor’s – they stick their hand inside you!’
Oriel recoiled, her voice aghast. ‘That can’t be right!’ All she herself had suffered under the physician was a prodding of her outer body. ‘What for?’
‘I don’t know – to have a good rummage around. They never tell you what they’re doing it for. And someone told me that when yo
u have the baby their spread your legs and put your feet in these stirrups.’
Oriel wished her friend had not told her this. ‘That’s it, I’m definitely never having any.’ She remembered the letter and Christmas card from her other friend that had arrived two days ago, the first in nine months. Aware of Dorothy’s aversion, she nevertheless relayed the news.
‘Melinda’s having another one around May or June. She doesn’t sound very happy. I don’t think their farming venture is going very well. She did nothing but moan about him.’ Oriel imagined herself in the pioneering role with Daniel.
Dorothy shuddered. ‘She’s probably suffering from morning sickness. It made me feel really down. At least mine’s finally gone at last. I feel a bit happier about facing the world now – oh, that’s what I wanted to ask you! Cuddy and I are going for a ride to the country on Saturday afternoon. He asked me to invite you to accompany us.’
Astonishment banished all thoughts of Daniel. ‘Cuddy did?’
Attempting to strike an alliance between her husband and friend, Dorothy neglected to mention that it had been her own idea that Oriel came and had for once managed to overcome Cuthbert’s reservations. ‘He has this workmate, Clive, who’s just had his engagement broken off and he’s feeling a bit battered.’
‘And you want me to cheer him up?’ Oriel showed some reluctance. ‘You’re sure this isn’t your idea just because you feel sorry for me not having a husband?’ She was assured that it wasn’t. ‘What’s he like?’
Dorothy said he was really friendly. ‘He’s been round here a lot lately, which is nice. Cuddy doesn’t seem to have many friends.’
I can’t imagine why, thought Oriel. ‘I meant what does he look like?’
Dorothy said that he had been at their wedding. He lived in nearby Elsternwick, where she herself had lived before her marriage, although she had not met him until then. She tried to describe him but seeing her friend struggle to remember said, ‘He’s really good company.’
A Complicated Woman Page 27
