A Complicated Woman

by Sheelagh Kelly

  Not long after seeing him off, Daniel left too. Not daring to entertain hope, for this had been dashed too often for confidence, Oriel accompanied him as far as she could, taking the dog with her, before going to see if there was any work for her at the factory. Fortunately there was and she spent the rest of the day stitching, and wondering if her beloved had succeeded in getting his free ride on a goods train, or whether as had happened to so many he had been ejected by an unsympathetic policeman and had had to make his way on foot. Concentrating on her sewing, she only stopped to let the dog out into the yard, then worked right through until late afternoon, when she paused for fifteen minutes to snatch a cup of tea and a wad of bread, again sharing it with her canine lodger. Resuming her task, she rattled on until it grew dark and she had to get up to turn the light on, working on until ten. Then, her shoulder muscles feeling as if they had been pierced by red-hot needles, she abandoned the machine, stretched painfully, and had just made another pot of tea when the dog barked and Daniel entered. By the look on his face she knew he had been unsuccessful, had seen that look too many times to bother asking. Instead she hugged him tenderly, then made him sit down, asked if he wanted something to eat and when he shook his head she handed him a cup of tea.

  He took a grateful sip, staring at the dog for a long time, before saying, ‘Well, don’t suppose we’ll see much o’ Norm now.’

  Oriel frowned and asked what he meant.

  ‘Must’ve set off last night. By the time I got there he’d beaten me to it.’ His voice held a type of weariness she had not heard before.

  ‘You mean he’s stolen the job?’ She could not believe such treachery. ‘Surely he wouldn’t do that to a mate. How d’you know it was him?’

  Daniel stretched out in the chair, his expression remaining fixed. ‘I asked the bloke outright. Norm didn’t show his face but I know he was there.’

  Oriel uttered a sound of disgust. ‘I can’t believe – I mean he knows we haven’t paid the rent in weeks – and you’ve got children to feed!’ She began to rave, asking what kind of man could do this to his friend? ‘He hasn’t even got a wife, for God’s sake!’

  ‘He has now – or soon will have when he can get me out of the way.’ Daniel summoned amusement. Seeing she was never going to guess, he explained. ‘Told you he’s been sneaking off to see a woman, didn’t I? Don’t you think it’s a bit odd that Mel’s just asked for a divorce?’

  She gasped at the audacity, and could not bring herself to join Daniel’s merriment, calling Norm every name she could think of, the dog keeping well out of her way. ‘I knew my first instincts were right! You can never trust anyone with a gap between their teeth.’ Clasping a handful of hair, she beheld Daniel with confusion. ‘I thought you’d be angrier than this. He’s betrayed you.’

  ‘Think we’ve all done things we’re not proud of,’ he reminded her. ‘These are bad times. I’d have done the same in his position.’

  ‘No you wouldn’t.’

  It was late. Daniel was worn out, his voice became impatient. ‘All right, I can’t pretend I’m happy at not getting the job but at least if he’s looking after Mel then she’s sweet and that makes it easier for me to see the kids – now can we drop the bloody thing and go to bed?’ He planted the cup on the table slopping tea everywhere and started to rip off his clothes.

  Meekly, Oriel took the dog out into the yard, then came back to join Daniel in bed.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, when they had lain there for some moments without speaking.

  With a groan, he pulled her into a fierce embrace. ‘It’s not your fault. Don’t think I’m mad at you. I love you.’ After a moment of soothing her with kisses, he rolled over on to his back and gave a huge sigh. ‘For Jesus Christ’s sake, will it never bloody end?’

  * * *

  Though both had been expecting it, the manner of their eviction came as a shock. Oriel was bent over her sewing machine, stitching for all she was worth, Daniel had just come in from an afternoon’s labour on the Shrine and was crouched over a bowl washing the dust from his naked upper half, the dog was stretched out along the hearth asleep, when the door opened and two men came in.

  ‘You’ve got five minutes to get out!’ The speaker was a surly fellow with unusually short legs, beady eyes and big ears. Ignoring the barking dog, he stood his ground.

  Oriel saw that Daniel was about to tackle him and shouted for him to desist, for the man who accompanied him was a brute. ‘No! Daniel, just let’s gather our things and go.’ She made to pack up her machine.

  ‘Leave everything as it is! That and the furniture can go to cover the rent you owe.’

  ‘We don’t owe that bloody much!’ Throwing down his towel, Daniel strode forth. The speaker’s larger accomplice took a step to meet him and, presented with the open door, the dog made a bolt for freedom, taking with it any chance of claiming a reward. Words of frustration poured from Daniel’s mouth but the advantage this gave him was only slight.

  ‘You can take what you can carry,’ relented the man. ‘You’ve now got three minutes.’

  As Daniel reluctantly caved in with a harsh expletive and started to dress, a hot and bothered Oriel rushed to gather what she could, mainly clothes and other transportable items, shoving them into carrier bags and knotting them in blankets. Daniel too grabbed as much as possible, cramming the bag with everything from metal to paper, any item that might prove essential. At the noise, other residents of the house had come into the hall to stare, some craning their necks over the top of the balustrade, all pouring derogatory comments upon the evictors. The mother of the two little girls for whom Oriel had made the dresses shouted and condemned her oppressors but it did no good. Within minutes she and Daniel were standing on the pavement in burning sunshine.

  ‘You can stay in our room for tonight.’ The woman had followed them out, shading her eyes with an arm. ‘There’s not much space but—’

  ‘No they can’t!’ The big-eared man intervened. ‘I’m not having them sneaking back in there. I want them out altogether.’

  ‘You can’t tell me who I can and can’t have in my room!’ retorted the woman.

  ‘Shut up!’ Seeing her open her mouth he repeated himself. ‘I said shut up!’ So violent was his emission, so vicious his face, that she shrank. ‘Get inside unless you want to be next!’ He was like a rabid koala.

  Oriel issued hasty thanks as her would-be helper retreated indoors. Then, with a look at the intransigent expressions of the two men, she and Daniel wandered away. Never could she imagine her father being as vicious as this with his tenants.

  ‘At least it’s not bloody raining,’ muttered Daniel as they ambled aimlessly along the road. In fact it was uncomfortably hot. Seeing she was having difficulty carrying her bags he divested her of one of them, adding it to his own load.

  Oriel did not ask what they were going to do – why should Daniel know any more than she did?

  However, he gave his prescription. ‘We’ll have to find somewhere to sleep tonight. How much money we got?’ When told a few shillings, he added, ‘Not enough for a room then. Let’s hope it stays warm and we can sleep in a park or something. Come on, we’ll head across the city. Yer never know, I might even find a job. How re your feet standing up? She said they were all right. ‘Well, if yer get tired just tell me.’

  Hitching a free ride on trams wherever they could go, they crossed the city and spent an hour or so just wandering the streets looking for work. Oriel’s mind was in conflict. On the one hand she was afraid of the future – could not even see a future – yet at the same time the thought of having no material possessions to bind her was strangely liberating.

  They sat for a while on the city beach, staring at the sea for answer. Then, as the sun descended, Oriel sat upright and began to rummage in one of the carriers. ‘Now, let me see. We’ve got a knife… a piece of rope, there’s the sea… but no pills, I’m afraid.’ She presented a cheery face. ‘Never mind, a choice of three isn’
t bad – which would you like?’

  ‘I’m more of yer skyscraper man meself. When I go out it’ll be in style. Haven’t got the energy for suicide today, though.’

  Oriel wrinkled her nose. ‘No, I can’t be bothered either. Come on, let’s go to the market.’ She told him that at close of business there was usually condemned fruit to be had – it would serve as their tea.

  Weighed down by their few possessions, they hobbled across the shifting sand towards the road, calf muscles aching. In the streets above the beach a group of young women in bathing costumes got in their way, giggling and laughing at the collision. Oriel glared over her shoulder and uttered a sound of disgust at their incongruous attire, speaking loud enough for them to hear. ‘My God it’s a public highway! Doesn’t anyone have any manners today?’ How she hated these flighty, carefree creatures who had no inkling of the burdens others had to bear.

  Upon reaching the market, they stood watching with a crowd of others whilst the stall owners tipped crates of unsold fruit into deep pits, most of it perfectly sound, this disgusting waste making Oriel even angrier. The market inspector came forth bearing a bottle of phenol. In the time it took him to remove the top, hungry people had jumped into the pits, collecting as much fruit as they could before it was destroyed. Daniel emerged triumphant, his pockets bulging with apples and oranges. These, their evening meal, were eaten in a garden which was later to be their sleeping place. Using the stuffed carrier bags as pillows, they cuddled up together and closed their eyes. It was a long night.

  * * *

  Overcome by troubles, sleep was periodic, giving them much time to think. Whilst Oriel merely pondered on the coming Christmas, fretting over her children, Daniel worried over these things too but at the same time tried to construct a solution.

  Warm breath on her face as they snuggled close together, he murmured, ‘There’s no point hanging round here. We’ll both go mad just wandering round in circles. We’ll go and stay with Jimmy. Do us good to get out in the bush.’ He felt her chest rise, and stilled her objection before it emerged. ‘Yeah, I know we haven’t the fare, we’ll just make our way to the railway yards and jump a rattler. Don’t know if he’ll be there but it’s worth a go.’ It was not yet dawn. ‘Too early to get anything to eat yet but if I lie here much longer I think I’ll seize up.’ Groaning, he threw aside the blanket, rose and pulled Oriel up after him. Around them in the darkness others were stirring. Daniel gathered their belongings together. ‘Come on, we’ll go the beach ’n’ see if we can find some dead marines, bring us a few extra pennies.’

  Even as early as they were, others had beat them to most of the empty beer bottles. They could hear them clinking inside the sacks that were being dragged along the sand. But there were still less obvious treasures to be found. Through the dinge, a pier beacon outlined shadowy figures all shuffling along the shore, probing with bare toes. Points of light sparkled upon the inky sea, its smell tweaking their nostrils. Oriel put down her possessions and took off her shoes – she wore no stockings, could not afford them now. Keeping an eye on their belongings, she and Daniel began to mimic the others, combing the sand with eyes and toes. A lone, sullen child observed them, then moved away, trailing his sack before they could steal its contents. If Oriel had only known it, she was enacting the movements of her father almost forty years earlier.

  Espying a packet of cigarettes, she pounced and finding that it had two inside hoisted it triumphantly.

  Daniel groaned. ‘Just my luck when I’ve given up smoking. Got a match?’

  It had been issued ironically but to his delight she was to find a box half an hour later and rattled it at him, both mentally recalling the day they had first met. He said it would probably contain all dead ones but no, he was able to light up a cigarette and inhaled as if he had been granted a taste of heaven. During the next half an hour, they were to find three shillings in loose change, a magazine and a ring.

  ‘Well, if this isn’t a good omen!’ announced Daniel. ‘Come here, let’s slip it on yer finger. Now we’re engaged.’

  Oriel laughed and peered through the gloom, trying to examine the ring, her smile suddenly faltering. ‘Oh, I think I read somewhere that an opal is bad luck unless it happens to be your birthstone.’

  ‘You are joking?’ He almost choked on his amusement. ‘How can we have any worse luck than we’ve had?’ Having succeeded in making her laugh, Daniel flourished the magazine. ‘We’ve got three bob and something to wipe our bums on, what more d’yer want out o’ life?’ He kissed her, then, still smiling, he looked around him.

  The sun was coming up now and through the grey light he saw that the patrol had begun to abandon its search. ‘Come on, if that lot’re going there can’t be another brass razoo to be found, let’s go have brekkie.’

  Her spine aching, Oriel attached herself to his arm and, leaving the beach like a ploughed field, they went to find a cafe. Soon, though, after they had finished their bacon sandwiches, Daniel was to see her slipping back towards melancholy.

  ‘Buck up, Kooka.’ His greenish eyes offered encouragement. ‘Gotta look at it like an adventure. With no house or chattels to tie us down we can go anywhere we want.’

  She nodded and smiled, but it was a sad effort.

  ‘We don’t have to go to Jimmy’s if you don’t want.’

  ‘No, that’s fine with me.’ Oriel needed to get right away from Melbourne, away from her troubles, if only it weren’t so much effort.

  After finishing breakfast, she went with Daniel to the railway yards and waited for a train that was heading east. As usual, they were not alone. When the locomotive shunted into action people rose as if from nowhere and began to run alongside it, jumping into the goods wagons. Oriel jumped in too and fell back against Daniel in an attitude of relief then sat back to wait. Waiting, waiting – was there nothing else to life?

  The train chugged away from Melbourne, out through the suburbs, climbing up into hillier country, amongst verdant hills and fern-filled gorges. Soon the foliage became so dense that it was impossible to see anything else but this and the sky. Gazing sleepily from her wagon, head bumping up and down on Daniel’s shoulder, Oriel felt totally enveloped in greenery, extended her hand to grasp at encroaching ferns that brushed the sides of the wagon.

  Eyes on the passing signs, Daniel watched for a suitable place to alight and, as the locomotive slowed right down to indicate another country town, he jumped on to the tracks and caught the bags which Oriel threw down to him, and then held out his arms for her.

  After they left the train there was still a long way to travel on foot, first along a road and then a steep narrow incline through thick undergrowth. It was hot but at least there was shade. Birdsong replaced the noise of the city. Their shoulders brushed the overhanging branches, drawing forth perfume. Daniel had never been here before and voiced the hope that he was following Jimmy’s instructions correctly. To ease the journey, he told her more about Magee’s life, that he was from a quite wealthy family but after the war had been unable to stand their shocked embarrassment over his whimpering episodes under the table, their horrified disbelief at his fits of black rage, their pathetic inability to understand why he behaved the way he did, and had totally cut himself off from them – and indeed from the rest of the world – much to their relief. Copying other tortured souls, he had built his home of logs and flattened kerosene tins and lived quite comfortably – though Daniel only had his word for this, having not seen it himself.

  Assuming it to be a ramshackle affair, Oriel was therefore taken aback when, after arduous miles, they finally emerged from the ferny undergrowth into a clearing and found a well-constructed cabin.

  A knock at the door produced the hermit’s bearded face. He was surprised to see them, muttering, ‘You must’ve been walking in my footsteps, I’ve only just got back myself.’ His smile was less broad than a few days ago but he seemed genuine in his invitation for the couple to enter.

  Inside was even more o
f a shock – he had some very nice pieces of furniture, obviously inherited from his family. Dumping her possessions, Oriel took the seat that was offered, Daniel beside her, both looking around in admiration.

  Having exhausted his news a few days ago, Jimmy had little to offer in the way of conversation. The atmosphere was friendly but awkward. Daniel soon filled the hiatus.

  ‘Expect you wonder what I’m doing here instead of being at that timberyard job you told me about – well, Norm got there first.’

  Jimmy looked dark. ‘The bastard.’

  Daniel formed a wry smile. ‘Then Oriel and me got evicted—’

  ‘Aw well, you can have my bed for as long as you want it, muttered Jimmy as he went to fetch his guests something to eat. ‘And there’s plenty o’ tucker here.’

  The words were friendly but Daniel sensed a hint of reserve, saying hurriedly, ‘We’re not here to put the bite on yer mate! Only came for a visit, be gone in a couple of o’ days, we need to be back in Melbourne for Christmas.’ He encompassed Oriel in his explanation and she nodded, trying to smile whilst feeling hollow.

  Later, tucked up beside Daniel in the cosy bed, with no one else’s footsteps thudding up and down the stairs, no voices, no traffic, only Jimmy lying quietly on his swag nearby, Oriel began to feel more at peace.

  In the morning, she and Daniel agreed not to make one mention of their troubles and after a refreshing plunge in their friend’s water tank, spent the day lazing in the sunshine, recouping their energy. Jimmy caught a rabbit which was devoured with relish in the evening. His belly fuller than it had been for weeks, Daniel said he was in danger of falling asleep and to avoid this made an attempt to repair his boots, using the tools and leather his friend lent him. Whilst he did this, Oriel tried to hold a conversation with Jimmy, but he seemed not to be in the mood for it tonight and buried his hirsute face in a book.

  She fell silent, rubbing her mosquito-bitten arms, feeling she should be doing something, making some effort to get her children back. Her emotions ebbed and flowed, one minute at rest, the next in torment. Unable to be still, her roving gaze caught sight of a violin tucked away in a corner. ‘Is that what you used to play in the quartet, Jimmy?’