The Changing Room

by Christine Sykes

  Lindy arrived with some of the women from her hairdressing salon.

  ‘G’day, Molly,’ she said. ‘I’ll do your hair later, before your speech, if ya like.’

  ‘Thanks, Lindy. You’re a true friend.’

  ‘How are you going out here?’ Genevieve came out with refreshments. ‘I need some fresh air; it’s manic inside. People everywhere, clothes all over the place. The stylists are working their butts off helping women choose clothes. I expect there’ll soon be a rush of people wanting to pay.’

  When she was leaving, Sophie took Molly aside. Molly beckoned for Anna to join them.

  ‘I wanted to give you a heads-up that you’ll be getting a phone call from our office on Monday.’

  ‘Oh no,’ said Molly. Anna put her hand on Molly’s arm.

  ‘Don’t worry. We’ve agreed to the full return of your children. We just need to work out the timing with you.’

  Molly cried tears of joy. Anna hugged her.

  *

  Later that afternoon, the stylist took Molly and Lindy to the back of the warehouse to prepare for the VIP event. Claire was waiting and Molly introduced Lindy to her.

  Molly dreaded telling her story in front of a large group of important people. But she had never felt as obliged to anyone as she did to Claire, except Grandma, whom she’d let down many times. As much as she didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to let anyone down again. She was also a bit excited to be asked to stand up in front of all those elegant people. And now she was about to get her children back, she felt like a success story.

  ‘I’ve put these aside for you to try on,’ said the stylist. ‘Here, Molly, start with this.’

  The first dress was silky and soft, but too big.

  ‘I have some tricks up my sleeve to make it fit if we don’t find anything else.’

  The next dress fitted Molly and was exactly the material and style she liked. Not too formal or too casual.

  ‘My, you do look swish,’ said Lindy. ‘Now let’s do something about that hair of yours. I think ya should wear it up. I’ll do yours as well if ya like, Claire.’

  Matteo rushed in carrying his makeup kit.

  ‘Sorry I am sooo late. Look at you lovely ladies,’ he gushed. ‘Now, I need someone to help me set up a table for my special creams, foundations, blushers, mascara and all these eye shadows.’

  ‘I’ll help,’ said Lindy. ‘I can do makeup as well as hair.’

  ‘My, what a find you are,’ said Matteo. ‘Come now, we have no time to lose.’

  Molly watched her face being transformed. It was better than the makeup session she had attended months before. She relaxed and let Matteo choose the right lotions and colours. First her blotches disappeared, then her eyes seemed to grow larger. She could hear the scraping of chairs, the moving of racks and clanking of plates and glasses in the warehouse.

  ‘Just look at you,’ said Genevieve, placing a full-length mirror in front of Molly. ‘Tell me what you see.’

  Molly saw a familiar stranger and scrutinised the face, which was not like the Molly of old. Nor did it bear a resemblance to her flowery grandma or her tarty mum. Molly looked almost as beautiful as she had when she had first met Joe. Except she wasn’t the same.

  ‘You are a stunning, strong woman,’ said Genevieve, and turned to Claire. ‘How are you going?’

  ‘I couldn’t find anything in my wardrobe that fits or is comfortable,’ said Claire. She’d lost weight and was rummaging through the racks of clothes for something appropriate for the event.

  ‘You might have to sacrifice comfort for this evening,’ said Genevieve.

  ‘I can’t anymore. I used to be able to wear clothes that were tight and figure hugging, but now I can’t stand it. Mind you, most of my clothes hang off me now like a potato sack.’

  ‘You of all people know you need clothes to enhance your shape, as well as to be comfortable,’ said the stylist. ‘Wait a minute, I think I saw something, if it hasn’t been sold.’

  ‘You all right?’ Molly asked Claire.

  ‘Oh Molly, I haven’t been all right for some time. I am going to have an operation on my back, which terrifies me, my husband has gone overseas without me and one of my children is going off the rails.’

  ‘Why didn’t ya tell me?’

  ‘You have enough worries of your own; you don’t need to take on mine.’

  ‘But that’s how we cope – that’s what ya said to me when I told you about my problems – if I shared ’em, they’d get lighter.’

  ‘I did say that. And you’re right, but I’m sick of moaning to everyone.’

  ‘I was too. I hated having to tell those people in my support group about my problems. But ya know what? It helped. So, you should tell everyone an’ get as much support as ya need.’

  ‘You’ve become so wise.’

  ‘Thanks to you. Now pull yaself together. If I can do this, so can you.’

  The stylist returned with an oyster-coloured flowing evening dress. It hung in gentle folds from Claire’s broad shoulders. Claire stood straight and smiled at Molly.

  ‘Come on, Molly, you can help me greet the VIP guests.’

  Molly gasped when they entered the warehouse. It had been transformed into a sparkling palace. Panels of sheer muslin were draped around the walls and a chandelier hung from the centre of the room. Crisp, white cloths covered the tables. A quartet played jazz and waiters walked around with trays of assorted drinks. Molly stood with Claire as she chatted with the guests and smiled, pretending she was the hostess of the event. She was introduced to a local member, the female mayor of the adjoining council, and an Olympic swimmer.

  Molly faltered when she was introduced to Catherine Beaufort. Catherine graciously smiled and lay her soft, cool hand on Molly’s arm as if they were confidantes.

  When it was time for speeches to commence, Claire led Catherine and Molly to the stage and introduced them to Lisa O’Brien, a well-known TV presenter, who was the MC for the evening. Molly smoothed her dress and gripped the tiny bag that held her speech notes.

  Lisa introduced Catherine, Claire and Molly. Molly was thrilled to share the stage with the actress – something she could tell her children about in the years to come.

  Catherine Beaufort spoke first and talked about the importance of clothing to women in presenting themselves to the world, and her own experience with costumes to play different characters.

  ‘In conclusion,’ Catherine said, ‘I quote the esteemed Virginia Woolf, who wrote: Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices than to merely keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world’s view of us.’

  Claire spoke next about the aims of the organisation, the numbers of women assisted and the support they needed in order to continue.

  When Claire finished, Molly heard Lisa call her name. She took a deep breath and felt she would choke. People were clapping. She fumbled for her notes. They were damp in her sweaty palms. She looked at the audience and saw Lindy, who gave her the thumbs up. Molly tapped the microphone and opened her mouth.

  ‘Ladies,’ she was shocked to hear her voice, ‘and gentlemen. I see there are a few of you here.’ Some people in the audience laughed. ‘I … I’m Molly, but you know that.’ Some more people chuckled. ‘I, we’re so pleased you all came tonight. We can’t let Suitability close. My life was a mess. I’d lost the only things that mattered to me: my grandma and my kids. I can’t get my grandma back, but with the help of this organisation, I am getting my kids back.’ The audience applauded. Molly looked straight at them.

  ‘Clothes aren’t just clothes, ya know. Not for someone like me. They’re our ... our place in the world. Our social standing and our confidence. Without them, we can’t get up from the bottom. When I came here, Claire, the wonderful woman sitting right there …’ the audience clapped again, ‘she treated me as a real important person. Helped me to feel that I was worth all the effort. Like I could turn my life around. Who’d
a thought some clothes could do that, could give people back their dignity? And that’s what we all deserve. Dignity and respect.’

  The audience clapped and whistled. The band played ‘Respect’ and Molly felt the arms of Claire and the actress, Catherine, around her, supporting her, and she hugged them back.

  Lisa took the microphone from Molly.

  ‘Thank you so much, Molly. Another round of applause for Molly and everyone on stage.’

  The band played ‘ I Am Woman’ while Molly followed the others off the stage.

  ‘I never thought you could talk so well.’ Lindy hugged Molly. ‘You were a real pro.’

  ‘You were fantastic.’ Lauren gave Molly a glass of French champagne, which was nothing like the spumante she had drunk with her grandma. It tasted smooth yet frothy, like a cold wave. ‘Do you want to come out for a drink with us when this is all over?’

  ‘Will you come with me?’ Molly asked Lindy.

  ‘Nah, I’ve got work tomorrow and I’ll head home now,’ said Lindy. ‘You should go and have some fun. You deserve it.’

  ‘Come on, drinks are on me,’ said Lauren. ‘Well, Mum actually. Nathan and his mate Steve are picking me up.’

  Molly hesitated. There was nothing to hold her back. Joe was gone and the kids wouldn’t be with her for several days. She was a different person to the one who had gone to bars as an underage teenager. She wondered what Steve would think of her all made up and glamorous rather than wearing trackie dacks.

  *

  The next event was the auction. It was the part of the evening Claire looked forward to and relied on to make the most money for Suitability.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, if those speeches don’t get you to open up your cheque books to save this most important organisation, nothing will,’ said Lisa. ‘Our first item to auction was worn by our very own Catherine Beaufort in her most recent movie. Now let’s see the colour of your money.’

  Claire’s spirits rose when the bidding on Catherine’s dress was fierce and high. It went for more than three thousand dollars. One by one, the donated items were sold for prices above their reserve.

  ‘Now, ladies, I know you will all want this. I have an item which is priceless, a pass to the Fall Paris Fashion Week in February next year, donated by my own television network. What an amazing opportunity for all you budding fashionistas.’

  Claire was interested in this item. She was booked to have her operation the following week and had calculated, all going well, she’d have recovered and would be able to travel by February. She’d even checked disability access in case she was in a wheelchair.

  The bidding was strong. The stylist made the first bid. Another young woman entered the bidding, then another. Higher and higher the bids went. Then they slowed to an extra twenty-five dollars here, ten dollars there.

  Claire turned her head to see who was bidding. She put her hand up and bid an extra hundred dollars. There was silence.

  ‘Is that the final bid? Anyone else? ‘Going once, going twice …’

  Someone bid an extra fifty dollars.

  Claire bid an extra fifty dollars.

  Another person bid an extra fifty dollars.

  ‘This is ridiculous,’ whispered Claire to Genevieve. ‘I’m having this pass if it kills me. What’s my money for anyway if I can’t do this?’

  Claire had enough money from her executive coaching business to outbid anyone and it was for such a good cause. She bid an extra five hundred dollars. The audience gasped.

  ‘Anyone want to top that? No? All right, here we go again. Going once, going twice. Last chance, ladies. Gentlemen? No. four thousand dollars for the Paris Fashion week. Going three times. Sold, to the lady in oyster white.’

  Claire also outbid others on a package tour for two to Europe.

  ‘Might as well go for broke,’ she said. ‘Anna, we could go to Paris together. What a treat that would be, non?’

  ‘What about me?’ said Lauren. ‘Can I come too?’

  ‘Only if you pass your university exams,’ laughed Claire.

  When the auction was over, Alice did a quick tally of the funds. ‘Ladies and gentlemen. We’ve done it, we’ve raised fifty thousand dollars,’ she announced to the remaining crowd. ‘It is enough to pay the rent for two years. Suitability will continue. Thank you all and good night.’

  *

  Several hours later, Ted drove Anna home. He’d spent the evening ensuring the guests were comfortable and assisting with the raffle.

  When they arrived at her house, she didn’t hesitate to invite him in, and he graciously accepted. Anna took a bottle of red wine from her pantry and poured them each a glass.

  ‘Ah, a wine at last. I like champagne, but it’s wonderful to have a solid merlot,’ he said. ‘Congratulations on such a wonderful evening.’

  Anna recalled the last time William had stood in her kitchen, drinking his favourite red wine. It was the night before her dismissal and their last time together. She was amazed at how long ago it seemed and how little it hurt now.

  ‘You never did answer my question,’ Ted said.

  ‘Which one?’ Anna asked. ‘Oh, you mean do I love William?’ She gently swivelled her wine glass and watched the wine swirl. ‘Not anymore and I wouldn’t go back to him. I want my life to be different.’

  ‘Excellent news,’ said Ted. ‘What’s next?’

  ‘Well, first thing is to finish organising my trip to France to see my aunt Estelle and cousin Francine. I’m quite nervous about going overseas for the first time.’

  ‘That is where I can help you. I know exactly what needs to be done. And, well...’ Ted hesitated, ‘you have inspired me.’

  ‘I have? In what way?’

  ‘I told you my son moved to Geneva? Well, I’ve decided to visit him.’

  ‘You have?’ said Anna.

  ‘And, if it is not too presumptuous, we could travel to Europe together. I can help with bags, getting through customs. And maybe after I’ve seen my son I could meet you in Paris and show you my favourite sites.’

  ‘That would be wonderful. Claire might be there at the same time. She’s talking about taking Lauren with her. Which reminds me...’ Anna took the present Claire had given her out of her handbag. It was the fuchsia scarf she’d returned when she did the interview. Anna was relieved Claire had noticed and touched that she must have bought it for her. Inside was a note, which she showed to Ted. The note read:

  To Anna, our dearest, most valuable friend. Please accept this scarf as a sign of our gratitude. In dreams, fuchsia can indicate it is time to release old attitudes and accept changes in your life.

  ‘How apt,’ said Ted, handing the note back.

  Anna showed Ted the mementos she had of her parents, and of her Paris relatives. He listened with great interest when she described how her father and mother met in the French countryside and travelled to London before moving to Australia.

  ‘Wait a moment,’ said Anna. She disappeared into her bedroom and returned after a minute. ‘Here are some dresses my mother made. She was a talented seamstress.’

  ‘Indeed,’ said Ted. ‘My father would have admired your mother’s skill.’

  Once Anna began talking about her childhood, she couldn’t stop. A bubble had burst and all the stories of the past, which she’d kept hidden away, spilled out.

  ‘I can’t believe that’s the time, Ted, and I’ve been talking nonstop. You must be tired.’

  ‘A little,’ said Ted.

  ‘You could sleep here if it suits you. I have a spare toothbrush.’

  Anna felt uneasy with another man in her bedroom. She and Ted bumped into each other while going in and out of the ensuite. By the third such encounter, their embarrassment and apologies turned to laughter.

  After Ted stripped down to his underwear and singlet and Anna put on her black silk nightie, they climbed into bed and lay with their arms touching.

  ‘I never thought I would be with another woman when my wife died,’ s
aid Ted.

  ‘And I thought I’d never want to be with another man.’ Anna switched off the bedside lamp and turned to Ted, stroking his face. He hugged her and she luxuriated in the warmth of his body.

  28

  MOLLY

  Three months after the fundraiser, Molly sat in the shade of the umbrella and smelt the freshly mown grass that Steve had cut that morning in preparation for her pre-Christmas garden party. How swanky that sounded! She admired the yellow roses, which had bloomed profusely after being pruned.

  Since Joe’s death, nearly five months before, Molly had thought and grieved a lot. Joe had given her a reason for being and all her actions had been for him. She had missed the excitement of him, and it had taken her a long time to recognise herself as having been the victim of an abusive relationship.

  She vowed that she’d never again put up with any man being violent towards her and hoped that one day she’d find a different kind of love. Now that she had her kids back she could get on with her life.

  As she sat, she let her imagination dwell on Steve for a few moments. He had been such fun when she went for drinks with him, Lauren and Nathan after the fundraiser. Molly had even found that Nathan wasn’t nearly as stuck-up as she’d thought. At the end of the evening, Steve drove her home and walked her to her front door, and they’d shared a long embrace. Since then he’d been a frequent visitor, doing odd jobs around the house and sharing chats over cups of tea.

  She didn’t feel passionate about Steve like she had about Joe. She felt safe, and that she could be herself. But she was wary. She’d dived headfirst into her relationship with Joe, with no thought about the consequences. This time, if anything was to happen, she wanted to take it slow and savour every moment, to give love time to bloom.

  Molly smelt the roses and thought about how much she had lost. As well as Joe, there was her dear grandma. Molly regretted not being there for Grandma when she died. But, after talking it over with Venera, she had accepted her actions and forgiven herself.