A Complicated Woman

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A Complicated Woman Page 50

by Sheelagh Kelly


  Oriel could hardly bear to wave him off and after closing the door she broke down in tears. What on earth was she going to find to take her mind off things? Why, you idiot, she accused herself, instead of sitting here moping, why don’t you show some gumption and find a job yourself?

  Having dispensed with newspapers in order to save money, she was forced to visit the city library to peruse the situations vacant columns. This entailed a wait, for others were of like mind. But her impatient foot-tapping was worthwhile and after scribbling down three or four suitable positions, she marched out of the library, purpose and determination in her step.

  When she reached the first address on her list there was a lengthy queue that stretched right out of the building. Declining to stand in the boiling sun, Oriel decided to return later and went on to the next office building. Here she found another queue. This one being slightly shorter, she joined it and waited, and waited, and waited, her mind filled with thoughts of her children and Daniel.

  An hour later she was sitting at a desk being interviewed by an impatient-looking man. In this heat, everyone wore a similar expression. Without even taking down her name, he asked if she had any experience in the secretarial field.

  ‘Oh yes,’ came the confident reply.

  ‘And am I to be allowed to see your references?’ The man sounded as hotly impatient as he looked. Oriel replied that she had not known she would need references, but she could get them for him in a matter of weeks. ‘That’s no good to me! Have you seen the queue out there?’

  She was offended. ‘But I’ve always held a very responsible position.’

  ‘Who were you with last?’

  The look on his face sapped her confidence, transporting her back to the time she had made her application to be a nurse, the awful rejection she had felt at being turned down. ‘I worked for my father – he had his own business.’

  ‘Sorry, you’re wasting my time.’ With a flick of his hand, the man dismissed her.

  Face burning, Oriel rushed past the waiting applicants and out into the sunshine, feeling stupid and helpless and angry. After buying a cup of tea and a muffin and using that twenty minutes to compose herself, she found enough courage to visit the third address on her list.

  But it was the same answer here. Consigning her list to a rubbish bin she went home, thoroughly disillusioned.

  When she entered the house, however, she was hit by a rush of joy and flung herself into Daniel’s arms. ‘Oh, you’re home!’

  He laughed, swept her off her feet and pressed the length of his hot body against hers as they enjoyed a fervid kiss, but then held her from him, his face becoming weary and despondent as her own had been a moment ago.

  She guessed. ‘The rats, they wouldn’t give you your job back!’

  ‘There was no job – no mill. It closed down at the end of the last shift. Wouldn’t it rot yer socks? I tried all the others up there, but with two hundred blokes in competition…’ He shrugged, enfolded her in his arms and rocked her. ‘Looks like the old susso for me, china.’

  She moaned and planted lots of kisses all over his face. ‘I’ve been out trying to find work myself but there were hundreds for the same job and I didn’t have any references, but I’ll go out tomorrow and try again.’

  He gave a subdued nod, then remembered. ‘Here, brought you a pressie. Been carrying it in a bag of ice.’

  ‘Ooh, Violet Crumble!’ She beamed at this small luxury before taking a bite then holding it out to Daniel.

  He shook his head. ‘Know it’s a bit extravagant but what the hell? You don’t get much enjoyment.’ He fell upon the sofa. ‘I called in to see the kids on me way back.’ Lowering his head to his hands, he rubbed his face in an attitude of despair. Knowing how he must be feeling, that he had a big suppurating hole where his gut used to be, Oriel put the chocolate aside and came to him. They sat there for a long time, trying to knead the pain from each other.

  Daniel recovered, a spark of life in his eye. ‘’Sfunny yer know, I don’t feel quite so bad over chucking the job up last year, knowing I’d have lost it anyway.’

  ‘Why has it closed down?’

  ‘Same as everywhere else. No demand for the goods. If you can do the same job with cheap foreign pine yer not gonna pay through the nose for good hardwood.’

  ‘So all the men from there will be coming to the city.’

  ‘No point is there? Aren’t you gonna eat yer chocolate before it melts?’

  ‘It’s given me toothache. I’d better not eat it all at once or I’ll end up with a mouthful of black pegs, then you won’t want me any more.’

  ‘Course I would!’ He cocked his head and looked thoughtful. ‘On second thoughts, no I wouldn’t.’ He laughed, Oriel laughed too, both marvelling at how they could do so. How could one be so desperately sad and yet so blissfully happy at the same time?

  Daniel returned to his former topic. ‘I spoke to some o’ the blokes – the ones that’d speak to me, anyhow.’ He had faced a lot of ostracism for leaving his wife and children. ‘A couple of ’em are talking about going prospecting. Whad’yer think about me havin’ a go at that before I resort to the susso?’

  Oriel looked dubious. ‘I hope you have better luck than Father did.’ Her mother had told her about his adventures in the Yukon. ‘He never found a speck, and that was when there was a gold rush on.’

  Daniel nodded. ‘That’s what I thought, but I’d have given it a go if you’d wanted. Righto,’ he rubbed sweaty palms over his moleskinned knees. ‘I’ll do what I have to do.’

  Knowing how she herself would feel at having to accept charity, Oriel was desperate to take that woebegone expression off his face, and blurted, ‘Let’s just give it a few more days! I’ll get up at the crack of dawn tomorrow and be first in the queue – no, there’s no need for you to go trailing out again. Have a rest. I insist.’

  ‘You can insist all yer like, I can’t have you going out looking for work while I lie in bed.’

  ‘But you said yourself there are no jobs for men.’

  ‘Then I’ll go apply to the susso. I’m not loafing around while—’

  ‘Well, all right, go look for a job if you must but not the sustenance. Please,’ she begged him. ‘I might have some good news when I come back.’

  Coming to an agreement, they both set about making dinner. Thankfully, around that time there was a drastic drop in temperature of twenty degrees and they were able to open the windows again to admit the southerly breeze. It was wonderful to be able to cuddle up in bed without their bodies sticking together.

  In the afterglow of love, Oriel snuggled lazily into her beloved’s arms. ‘Don’t suppose there’s any need to set the alarm.’ They were always both awake by the crack of dawn, their turmoiled minds preventing further rest. She peered through slitted eyes at the shelf on the far wall. ‘You’ve moved that clock, I can only see the top half of it without lifting my head up.’

  His voice was drowsy. ‘Would it be more convenient if I insert it under your eyelids?’

  She giggled and nudged him, then nestled into his arms and both fell asleep.

  * * *

  When morning came, Oriel performed her usual toilet as best she could without a bathroom, dressed in a two-piece suit and, adding a dash of powder and lipstick to her face, she prepared to leave. Daniel said he would wash the breakfast dishes before going out to look for work. He followed her to the door, kissed her and was about to close it when at the last minute she turned back.

  ‘Oh, I’m forgetting my bag!’

  He went to get it for her and after kissing her once again, closed the door.

  The door opened again. ‘I thought I had a pen!’ Oriel re-entered looking harassed.

  ‘Here!’ Laughing, he found the item on the mantelpiece. ‘Crikey, you’re making more farewell appearances than Nellie Melba – will yer just go!’

  Snatching the pen off him she left the house, intending to join the first queue she came across, and when thi
s turned out to be for vacancies at a clothing factory she did not balk but tagged on at the end. Even as she joined it there were others behind her.

  ‘Gawd, look at her,’ muttered a voice to her rear. ‘Clothes like that and she’s pinching our jobs.’

  Flushing with anger and embarrassment, Oriel was about to sidle away, when an inner voice told her to stay put. She was as much in need of the work as they were.

  For half an hour she shifted her weight from hip to hip, squinting at the glare of sunlight on glass and metal, shuffling inch by inch, closer to salvation, forced to listen to derogatory comments from the girls behind her. Finally, when she felt that her aching calves were about to snap, she found herself third in line and tensed in readiness for her interview.

  The female interviewer took one look at her. ‘I don’t think you’re exactly what we’re after, dear.’

  Oriel could have screamed. ‘I’ll do anything!’

  The interviewer allowed her a few more seconds and tried to see her left hand but it was below the level of the desk. ‘Are you married?’

  Oriel thought of Daniel. ‘Yes.’

  There was a tut. ‘I’d have thought one of the others could have told you and saved you queuing – we’re not hiring married women.’ The woman looked at Oriel’s smart outfit. ‘We can’t give jobs to housewives wanting pin money when there are single girls needing to make a living.’

  ‘But my husband’s out of work!’

  The woman showed hesitation at casting her out without a chance. ‘I suppose it’s silly to ask if you’ve done this kind of work before?’

  ‘I can learn.’

  ‘Sorry, dear, there’re plenty of experienced girls waiting out there.’ And that was that.

  No matter how many queues she joined that morning, Oriel was to be constantly rejected. Feet throbbing, worn-out and close to tears, she made for home, wondering if Daniel had had any more luck. Along the way, placards told how unemployment had risen to twenty per cent – as if she needed telling. There was slight hesitation by a newspaper stand. Her beloved would probably not be there when she got home, a newspaper would take her mind off the emptiness. Delving into her purse, she was about to part with precious pence – then was stopped by a flash of inspiration. What an idiot! Instead of wasting time in queues she could have been earning a living from home, writing for the newspaper.

  Rushing there, she found the house empty, but her longing for Daniel was soon put aside whilst she decided what form her composition should take. Nibbling the end of her pen, she decided to put her own experiences to good use and began to scribble an opinion of how married women were treated in the workplace. In the hour that followed she had produced an article and had time to go back into the city and deliver it to the newspaper office before Daniel got home.

  As both had feared, he had had no luck, but Oriel’s enthusiasm over her venture persuaded him not to resort to charity just yet. All that they could do now was to sit back and wait.

  * * *

  During the week that followed she ran to meet the postman every day, and every day was to be disappointed. However, on Friday, when Daniel had gone out hunting for work and she herself had been about to go to the market, she was finally rewarded by a whole bundle of letters. Excitedly she sifted through them, discarding those that were bills. Finding an envelope that looked promising, she tore it open there and then. It was from the newspaper! Her mouth turned up in apprehension as her eyes read:

  Dear Mrs Widdowes,

  Thank you for your most interesting submission… it is with regret that we cannot accept it for publication due to a marked similarity to the recently published article submitted by a regular correspondent.

  We will however be happy to hear from you in the future if you have an original idea to air.

  Yours…

  Oriel was devastated, felt utterly useless and near to breaking point. Crumpling the letter and trying not to cry, she stared for a while into thin air, picturing Daniel’s face when she told him. He had been so confident of her success, had been duped by her stupid enthusiasm. Now she had failed him, failed everyone.

  Her intestines made a sound like a bottle rolling down a concrete path, nudging her mind from its crippling despondence. Dragging herself from the chair, she went to collect some coins from the ever-dwindling cache in the dressing table drawer, donned hat and gloves and plodded off to the market.

  Her journey took her past yet another queue. The people in this line were from all walks of life, some trying to avert their faces from the street in case a passerby should see how low they had fallen, others wearing the tattered clothing and the doleful air of the habitual charity seeker. How soon would it be before she or Daniel was standing here? Their calculated budget had been thrown out of gear by the five-pound deposit on the house, funds were perilously low. Oriel faltered in her tracks, agonizing over her next move. The thought that came to her was appalling, but if it meant sparing Daniel this gross indignity then she would do it. So deciding, she diverted her path and headed for Myers.

  Clive was most put out by the appearance of his estranged wife at his workplace. Mouth pursed, he escorted her to a private corner to hear what she had to say.

  Oriel detested having to perform what she saw as grovelling but with as much dignity as she could muster said, ‘I need your signature so I can get some money out of the account.’

  ‘Couldn’t it have waited till you came to pick up the children?’

  She was insistent. ‘No, I need the money to live on and I’ve bills to pay—’

  ‘How much?’

  Oriel pondered. Better to withdraw enough to save her having to ask again. ‘Twenty pounds.’

  ‘Twen—! Some bill!’

  She tried not to display anger, though inside she boiled at having to explain why she needed her own money, especially in the knowledge that he had had a woman in her house. But any truculence might deprive her of her access to the children. She could not risk that. ‘It’s simply to save me having to ask again.’ You think I really want to be seen in the street with you? she silently demanded.

  ‘Well, I can’t come now, you’ll have to meet me on my lunchbreak.’ Clive was already going back to his work. ‘I’ll see you outside in half an hour.’

  Oriel emerged from the department store, wrung her gloved hands and wondered what to do. A fully loaded tram sailed by, its flanks laden with parasites. She turned and followed its path, and for thirty minutes paced the streets, noting how Melbourne had evolved over the last ten years, lovely old buildings being pulled down to make way for more skyscrapers, traffic lights, ugly modern wall lamps alongside the elegant drooping standards of old, her eyes latching on to anything that might take her mind off the test of endurance that lay ahead.

  Eventually Clive came out and walked briskly alongside her to the bank. Head lowered, Oriel tried to inject a gap between them so that people would not know they were together. Once in the bank, both scribbled their signatures, Clive acting as if this were his death warrant, and saying that he himself did not need any cash, he could make do on his wages. ‘There you are, I don’t suppose you’ll have any more need of me so I’ll go and get my lunch.’

  Oriel folded the money into her bag and walked home, trying to think how to confess to Daniel what she had just done.

  Her worries were for nothing. ‘She’ll be right, Kooka. You don’t have to explain to me, I understand.’ In manner most kind, he took her face in his hands.

  Blue eyes swam with anxiety. ‘I just felt so wretched after getting your hopes up about the newspaper article.’

  ‘Aw! Yer poor little thing, and it was such a good piece – didn’t they say so? Maybe—’ Her expression forestalled his question. She would not risk submitting another article just to have it rejected. ‘Aw well, never mind. Come ’n’ sit down and let me take your shoes off. I shouldn’t be wearing them anyway.’ He grinned and squeezed her. ‘Look what a nice dinner I’ve made yer.’

 
; Oriel looked at the table set with two plates of bread, ham, tomato and cheese, and wanted to cry. ‘Oh, you shouldn’t’ve waited for me, you must be starving.’

  ‘Nah! Come on, sit down and tell me all about it.’

  After the meal and a cup of tea Daniel heaved a sigh. ‘Well, it’s no use me sitting here, I’ll have to go and throw meself on the Government’s mercy.’

  Oriel gasped. ‘But that’s the reason I went grovelling to him, so you wouldn’t have to do that!’

  ‘I can’t keep on asking you to pay for my kids, darl.’

  ‘And I can’t have my husband standing in line for charity when I’ve plenty of money here – look!’ She leaned over and grabbed her bag, took out the notes and flourished them at him.

  ‘Then I’d be accepting your charity.’

  ‘Maguire! Don’t be so bloody proud.’ She pushed herself from the table and came around to cradle his head in her arms. ‘I love you, what’s mine is yours, it’s not charity. Please, please, just take it.’

  Daniel stared at the money for long moments, wrestling with his pride. ‘Folk’ll say I’m living off a woman.’

  ‘I don’t care!’

  ‘I do.’ Faced with two choices – to live off the Government or live off Oriel – he did not know which was the most shameful. But in the end he gave a silent nod, and Oriel uttered a sigh of relief.

  When he rose shortly afterwards and said he had better be off, she showed confusion. ‘I still have to go out,’ he told her. ‘If there’s a job to be found out there, I’ll find it. I won’t let yer down.’

  Weary of foot, she sighed but nevertheless said she would accompany him, shoving the money into her bag. ‘And here’s me thinking we could spend the afternoon in romantic interlude.’

  He looked disapproving. ‘I couldn’t waste me time like that! Well, not the entire afternoon, anyhow.’ Grinning, he escorted her into the city.

 

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