‘We haven’t got a neighbour. That’s why your father chose the place.’ Bright frowned, then gave a chuckle of recognition. ‘Oh, it’d be a frog croaking.’
‘Sounded like someone rasping or sawing wood to me.’
‘Well, it was a frog,’ insisted her mother. ‘Must be going to get some rain.’
‘And what’s that bird who can’t decide whether he wants to sing Gilbert and Sullivan or Beethoven’s Fifth?’
‘Beethoven’s Four and a half,’ donated her father.
‘What?’ Oriel beheld him with irritation.
Bright laughed at her husband’s joke and explained, ‘It’s only Beethoven’s Four and a half. He can’t quite get the last note. The butcher bird.’
‘I feel like butchering him – half past four this morning he started. Not to mention your chickens wittering under the window.’ After a cross interlude during which she further attacked her boiled egg, she added, ‘The sheets were a bit damp.’
‘Yes, they’re often like that with the salt in the air.’ They lived close to the sea. ‘We’ve got used to it.’
‘I wouldn’t.’ Oriel pushed aside the empty shell and sulked over her cup of tea, blue eyes staring hazily at the tablecloth. ‘And I don’t know how you stick this humidity. It’s like being smothered by a hot wet blanket.’
‘It’s not usually like this.’ Bright remained serene, cradling her teacup in her palms. ‘And the evenings are normally lovely and cool. Your father thrives on it, don’t you?’ She smiled at Nat who nodded. ‘And he hasn’t had his bronchitis since he left Melbourne.’
‘No, but you have to put up with all sorts of other nuisances.’
‘Like the one sitting here bending our lugs,’ muttered her father. ‘Is there owt else you want to moan about before we send you off home?’
Oriel felt churlish and apologized. ‘I just haven’t slept very well. It is a lovely place. A lovely house.’
Nat agreed. ‘We like it. It was a bit of a fluke we found it really.’ Severely tested by the abominable Queensland roads, the car had broken down in Childers. As this was not far from their intended destination, and finding it such a pretty town, Bright had suggested it might be Divine intervention and persuaded him to call a halt to their suffering. They had lodged there for a while – but then he had heard people talking about their vacations on the coast and, knowing how much his wife loved the sea, he had brought her here just for a look. It was the kind of place Nat had always dreamed of, far away from so-called civilization, the days filled with light. There was no outlet for his business acumen here, but with money coming in from his investments and plenty of other things to do besides work, he did not care. ‘We get some cold winds in August, but you won’t find any snowmen. I’ve never worn a coat for ages.’
‘What are the people like?’ asked Oriel.
There was a thoughtful pause. ‘Different.’
Her mother laughed at Nat. ‘Come on, let’s have a walk along the beach. That’ll wake you up. Vicky, d’you want to come?’
To Oriel’s relief the little girl said she wanted to stay with her father. Leaving Nat to clear the breakfast pots the two women descended into a garden of yellow hibiscus and trembling palm leaves, and onwards to stroll barefooted along the wet sand towards a headland that was miles away. Though it was only just after eight, already they could feel the sun burning through their flowered dresses. Neither spoke for a while, heads hanging limp as the delicate tassels of she-oaks in the still air. The sea was like a millpond. Dragonflies hovered and darted above the barely rippling waters of the bay, the only sound a thousand seashells tumbling in the tide, like the crumpling of a paper bag. Bright felt happy, awaiting her daughter’s news.
But Oriel did not know how to approach the matter and instead gazed out to sea asking, ‘Aren’t you lonely here?’
‘At first I was. Your father enjoys isolation, though I can’t say I do. I was frightened of the blacks as well. I mean I’ve seen the odd one before but not up close. Your father never batted an eyelid at them – said they’re just like anyone else, which was rather charitable for an unsociable devil like him, I thought. Apparently he met all sorts of people when he lived in Canada – even Red Indians! That’s where he learned how to look after animals too – did I tell you we’ve got a cow as well as the chickens? And he’s managed to find a horse that doesn’t want to take lumps out o’ me.’ She lifted her eyes to watch a squadron of pelicans soar overhead. ‘And look, there’s so many wondrous things here. I’ve been keeping a journal since we arrived, writing bits and pieces in it every day about the birds and animals and plants. D’you still write articles for that newspaper, by the way?’
Oriel’s stomach lurched. In all the upset she had forgotten to tell the editor she would be away. Still, that was the least of her worries. She simply nodded.
‘Isn’t it funny how we all seem to be picking up the pen? Your father’s writing a book – a proper story, I mean, not a journal. It’s all about his life.’
Oriel waited for her mother to remark on the oddity of this, but Bright appeared to see no anomaly in someone who was barely literate writing his memoirs. ‘Don’t mention it, I’m not supposed to tell anyone. He thinks people will regard him as odd. As if they don’t already! I’m not allowed to read it till it’s finished. If it’s like all his other fads it never will be. The gardening’s fallen out of favour. And I’m using his paints now – you know the ones he spent so much money on ages ago and he only used once. They’re handy for colouring the pictures in my journal. I’m not very good but I enjoy it. I’ll show you later if you promise not to laugh.’ However pathetic Bright considered her attempts to be, they certainly illustrated how much she loved this place. ‘I don’t know how long we’ll be staying, though. When Vicky’s ready for school it’ll be too far to travel. Your father’ll probably have got itchy feet by then and we’ll be sailing away to India.’
‘Can I stay?’ blurted Oriel.
‘Well, that’s what you’ve come for, isn’t it?’ The skin around her mother’s laughing eyes was creased from squinting against the sun, her face a mass of freckles. ‘I’ve really missed you. How long do you plan to be up here?’
‘I meant stay for good.’ Oriel had made her decision. ‘I don’t want to go back.’
Bright was devastated and stopped in her tracks. ‘Oh, love—’
‘I’m not settled,’ rushed Oriel.
‘What d’you mean, not settled?’
‘I don’t think I should’ve got married.’ Out of nowhere, a willy-willy came twirling along the sand, picking up dried leaves and hurling them into a frenzy, whipping up the women’s dresses and tousling their hair before spinning on its way. Oriel’s eyes followed its passage. The air was suddenly filled with jewels: chattering lorikeets, turquoise butterflies drifting like fallen petals on the breeze.
‘But you’ve got a wonderful life! A kind, considerate husband, a lovely house, a car – what else could you ask for?’ Bright didn’t see her stance as accusing, merely wanted Oriel to see how fortunate she was. Dragging the tousled strands of hair from her eyes, she thought she detected guilt on her daughter’s face. ‘There isn’t anyone else is there?’
‘No.’ Oriel wondered why she felt as if she were lying and blushed. There was no one else, no one accessible, just some idea, some longing in her imagination.
Bright felt relieved in a sense. She began to walk again, but there was no lightness in her step now. The heat was like a ton weight upon her shoulders and she had a headache from squinting. ‘Well then, don’t do anything rash. Have a think about it.’
What else have I been doing in the last six months? thought Oriel, who wished she had never said anything now. Even her mother did not understand.
‘Spend a few days with us, then if you still feel the same way…’ Bright’s voice trailed away. ‘I won’t tell your father yet just in case.’ She felt silly and angry that Nat had foreseen that this marriage would not work. But she
was damned if she would let it collapse without a fight. ‘You won’t get anyone better than Clive, you know.’
That was when the young woman realized that she was not going to get the support she had hoped for, was made to feel that she was letting everyone down, that there was no way she would ever be able to leave Clive without hurting her mother. And Oriel could never bring herself to do that.
* * *
Nothing further was said about the fact that she had been going to leave her husband. Judging by her father’s behaviour towards her he had not been informed; it remained a secret between the two women. Indeed, by the way her mother acted towards her it was as if it had never been spoken of at all, and Oriel was glad to forget. With much news to exchange throughout the day and visits from the wildlife it was comparatively easy to blot out one’s troubles.
Alone in one’s bed, however, it was harder to ignore. Rain thundered on to the tin roof all night, adding to her insomnia. The few brief hours of oblivion she did enjoy were shortly to be wrecked by kookaburras and magpies feeding their squabbling young, and the crack of the tin roof expanding under the heat of the sun’s rays. After lying with eyes closed for a further hour, listening to the creaks and groans and squawks, Oriel dragged herself out of bed much earlier than she normally would at home.
She entered the kitchen to find her parents had only just risen themselves. Bright suggested that Oriel go to keep an eye on her sister in the other room whilst she and Nat made breakfast. Unenthusiastically, Oriel did as she was told. At first she was uncertain how to communicate with the child but smiled in friendly manner when Vicky brought her a toy to examine, and remarked upon its splendour. With such a good reception the little girl decided to bring another toy, and another, and another till Oriel’s arms were full and she found herself laughing.
Nat paused at the kitchen door to watch his elder daughter play with her younger sister. Oriel seemed to be paying her more attention than usual, which gratified him. He went about helping his wife in preparing breakfast.
‘Well, you’ve never said owt,’ he muttered. ‘Is she having one or isn’t she?’
Bright shook her head. ‘No, it was just me desperate to become a grandmother, imagining things.’
He patted her. ‘Bide your time, lass, it’ll happen.’ Once more he craned his neck to eavesdrop on his daughters.
‘You’re my sister aren’t you?’ Vicky was saying. She was thoroughly enjoying making friends.
Oriel smiled. ‘Yes, your big sister.’
‘Why don’t you live with us?’
‘Oh, because…’ Oriel shrugged.
‘I like you,’ said Vicky.
‘Thank you! I like you too.’ Oriel was surprised to find that she actually meant it. It was hard to maintain animosity in the face of such charm. Not quite sure what to do she poked a wiggling finger into Vicky’s ribs. The child bent over laughing. With the repetition of this act Vicky wriggled on to the floor where she rolled about like a kitten, Oriel still tickling her, laughing at her giggles and feeling a sudden wave of great emotion that she had never experienced before. The little girl was angelic, anyone would have fallen in love with her, but Oriel’s feelings took her off guard. She was overtaken by an urge that had hitherto lain dormant, found her thoughts at odds with everything she had ever declared. She suddenly realized that she wanted a child – more than anything else in the world.
Throughout the day there were sporadic showers but consumed by this new-found desire Oriel made no grumble. At least it eased the unbearable heat, and with enough conversation to last a week she was happy to remain indoors.
In the late afternoon a rainbow appeared over the bay and the family enjoyed a walk on the sands. At their intrusive approach, tiny crabs scurried back to their holes. Vicky clung to her sister’s hand, and complained bitterly when either of her parents tried to divest their elder daughter of some childish demand, screaming, ‘I want Oriel to do it!’
After dinner, served by her big sister naturally, Vicky continued to cling. Bright told her not to be a nuisance. But Oriel said, ‘I’m enjoying myself. Come on, nuisance, let’s see if we can count how many baby tree frogs are clinging to the windowpane. After counting to twenty, she set Vicky on her feet. ‘Now, go and fetch one of your books and I’ll read you a story before bedtime.’ She sat back on the sofa, at ease and smiling. Then she lifted her head to listen. ‘What was that?’
Bright was concerned that her elder daughter was perhaps getting too comfortable here. ‘Kangaroos,’ she muttered, narrowing her eyes to thread a needle.
‘How d’you know without looking?’ Her sister returned with a book, Oriel dragged the child on to her lap and pressed her lips to the small head.
‘Ah well, when you’ve been here as long as I have…’ Her mother smiled and tried again to thread the needle. ‘No, it’s their tails you can hear dragging along the wooden boards.’ Sure enough when Oriel, still carrying her sister, peered outside she could see the dark outlines of kangaroo ears between the spindly gums, smelled the musk from their bodies. Chuckling, she pointed them out to Vicky, and paused to stand for a while, breathing in the scent of damp soil and foliage. ‘It is a lovely place. It’d be a shame if you had to move.’
‘Who said owt about moving?’ enquired Nat.
Bright jumped in. ‘Oh I just mentioned that there’s no school nearby. For Vicky, I mean.’
‘Well, what’s to stop you teaching her?’ asked her husband. ‘You did it once.’
‘I could but I feel I’d be depriving her of other children’s company.’
For once Oriel was allied to her father. ‘The lack of peers never did me any harm.’
Didn’t it? thought her mother. I often wonder if I’m the one to blame for your wandering restless soul.
Oriel murmured to Vicky, ‘You’re such a lucky girl to live here. I’d like to come and live here too.’
Bright flicked a worried glance at her husband. How was she ever going to tell him that Oriel wanted to stay?
Her daughter must have sensed this apprehensive air for she sighed and told them, ‘But I’ve asked the man who brought me in the horse and cart to return for me in a week.’ Even then she must unconsciously have known that she could not stay.
Nat puffed out his lips. ‘He’ll probably forget. They’re like that up here. Half ’em seem to walk round in a coma. I’ve lost count of the stuff I’ve ordered from town and it’s never arrived. God help us if we ever need an ambulance. Don’t worry, I’ll take you. It’ll give me chance to give t’hoss some exercise.’ Knowing his wife’s aversion to being left alone, he told her, ‘It’ll be a day out for you an’ all, throstle face.’
Bright sounded relieved. ‘Well, we’ll be sorry to say goodbye, but I should think Clive’ll be glad to see you. What day’s he expecting you back?’
Oriel had turned vague, paying more attention to the little girl in her arms. ‘I didn’t say for definite. He won’t be anxious.’
‘Oh well, meladdo’s loss is our gain,’ announced Nat. ‘If you’re staying, though, I have to warn you we’ll have to cut down on food else we won’t have enough to go round till we can get to t’shop. And it’ll be your job to cut all t’peas into four.’
‘I don’t mind,’ came the absent reply.
Nat grinned slyly at his wife and shook his head. ‘You only have to cut the currants into three. I don’t like currants.’
Oriel, coming to her senses, realized he was teasing her and laughed almost gaily – another five whole days before she had to go home.
* * *
Clive’s wary face beheld her from the door when, after almost a fortnight of living alone, he came home from work to find her in the kitchen. ‘I didn’t know whether you’d come back,’ he mumbled, standing there.
‘Well, I did.’ She had prepared dinner for him – his favourite dish. Oriel gained little pleasure from food herself but was happy to fulfil this need in others.
He did not kiss her, but aske
d with a cautious smile, ‘Did you have a good time?’
‘Yes, it’s a lovely place. Very isolated though.’
‘I suppose it was really hot, wasn’t it?’
‘It was on the day I arrived but the rest of the week was quite pleasant. And the temperature drops in the evening. You don’t get those unbearably sticky nights like you do down here.’
He lifted his chin in a gesture of acknowledgement, then looked at the table.
‘Well, sit down.’ She pulled out a chair.
Clive did likewise and gave polite acceptance of the food she spooned on to his plate. ‘That looks nice.’
‘I thought you might’ve been at your mother’s,’ said Oriel, dipping a fork into her meal.
‘I went once or twice for my dinner.’ He looked to be enjoying his repast. ‘I just said you’d gone to visit your parents. There’s a pile of letters for you.’
‘I know, I’ve opened them.’ She looked rueful. ‘One of them was from the newspaper. They must have been trying to telephone me while I’ve been away. Because I haven’t contacted them for a fortnight they’ve assumed I’m not interested in submitting a weekly article and they’ve asked someone else to do it. I don’t care anyway.’ Consumed by her need for a baby, everything else seemed trivial. ‘What’s the weather been like here?’
‘Good. It was great for Cup Day.’
‘Did you win anything?’
‘Not on the Cup race – the favourite won – but a few quid overall.’
‘The city looks a bit tidier. Has there been any more trouble? What about Myers?’
Clive said things were fine now. The dialogue was to proceed like this for the rest of the evening, each moving cautiously around each other like strange dogs, each of them fearful that the other was suddenly going to sink its teeth into its rival’s throat.
Only when they went to bed did Clive embark on serious matters. ‘I missed you.’ His voice wavered. After a moment’s silence he reached a tentative hand through the darkness. Oriel allowed him to touch her. Encouraged, his embrace grew bolder and without further preamble he launched himself upon her body, ramming himself home as if punishing her, pausing only to lean on his elbows and scour her face through the darkness. ‘When you said you didn’t love me—’
A Complicated Woman Page 37
