There Should Be More Dancing (28 page)

If you think it's appalling to have someone else lay claim to your home, then stay tuned, Cecily. It gets much, much worse. If this was a novel the readers would probably say, ‘I knew that. I guessed it was her.' But I hadn't. I hadn't even suspected.

Life is cruel. I feel like such a dill. Pat was right, and I suppose everyone in the whole suburb knew, except me.

Walter said he ‘never knew a fing', though he confessed later that he got suspicious when he learned Florence had worked at the local pub. ‘I knew the old man had a sort down there,' he said, ‘but I never met her because I didn't condone their type of friendship.'

They recognised her when she spoke. ‘Flossy!' Faye said. ‘Haven't seen you since Lance's funeral.'

Yes, that's right. My husband had a mistress, for almost fifty years it turns out, and she was living in my second bedroom. I had provided the strumpet with refuge.

~

I said to her, ‘Did you know who I was?' and she said, ‘Got suspicious when we pulled up outside, was pretty convinced when we came through the gate, and knew for sure when I saw the photo of Lance on top of the telly. I'd only ever seen you peering out through the front window.'

On her way to and from Pat's, I suppose.

They were just looking at me, Faye and Joye, spite and glee in their eyes, though Joye was slowly bending under her own weight.

Now this is where it gets
really
interesting. Yes, that's right, you guessed it – Anita arrived, sailed down the passage calling, ‘Yoo-hoo!' and then her red bushy head appeared between the shoulders of the fat sisters, bright as a button, ‘Seen the papers?', but then her face dropped. ‘What?'

Little Ruby squeezed between the zeppelins, gave me a big hug and climbed onto Flossy's lap. She looked at Faye and Joye and said, ‘Gee, you're big.'

Then Ray came in, happy as Larry. ‘Truth is stranger than fiction, isn't it, Wally?' he said to Walter, then he cottoned on that something was up. ‘What?'

So there we all were.

The Blandon family and what was left of our roast chicken and vegies, and the fat sisters, sweating because there was nowhere to rest their bulk. In the middle, a small pirate with a cardboard sword. All of us, just there in that small house, everyone looking at each other, the pennies dropping one by one.

I'm just grateful Mrs Parsons missed the whole messy thing.

At least five heartbeats passed. I looked at Florence, but she just lifted her skinny little alcoholic's foot up and looked at her red stiletto – the ones I'd found in the letterbox.

‘Florence,' said Judith tentatively, ‘was Dad's mistress?'

‘Cool,' Pud said, looking at Flossy with interest for the first time. ‘This is
so
, like,
not ordinary.'

Ray was just looking from one of us to the other, as if we were shells and there was a pea under one of us, and Anita said, ‘I swear I didn't know, Mrs Blandon,' and started scraping about in her bag for a cigarette.

Sometimes I would look at Lance and actually feel a small warmth flow through me. He was very good-looking, and he was charming, funny and
manly
, but something was missing. We just never sort of clicked, I suppose. I'd have liked someone who wanted more from life than the pub, beer and boxing. But you don't know anything when you're eighteen. Such a waste.

As we all know now, I knew nothing.

I needed my wits about me, and I didn't have my wits about me. Ever, it seems.

Judith said, ‘God, Marge. How could you
not
know our father was having an affair?'

Here it comes, Cecily, it's getting worse, because then Pudding said, ‘You don't really think Charmaine's just Dad's secretary, do you?'

Judith just looked at her so-called husband, his dyed comb-over looped and held fast behind his ear, his Buy and Sell cufflinks glowing. She just sighed, stabbed her potato with her fork and chewed it like
it was made of tyre rubber. I was proud of her at that moment, she was very contained, so I followed her example and I am pleased to say I remained dignified throughout the whole sordid business.

Faye started to laugh, so Judith said, ‘Well, you can't talk, your husband left you,' and Joye said, ‘We didn't mind, did we Faye-zee-way-zee, love?'

Barry shook his head and just went to stare sadly at the back step.

About then Joye started to stagger. She tottered back and landed on the couch, and then poor old Faye was defeated by her own bulk and staggered back as well, landing on the couch, the air swooshing out from under her. A leg of the couch snapped and shot out from under it, skimming across the lino and knocking the television. On my heart, I swear, the picture of Lance toppled and crashed onto the floor, the glass scattering.

Makes me smile to remember it.

I should never have gone to that dance. I should never have left the front gate of my childhood home. Ever.

Now, here's the very worst bit.

Suddenly Pud had a thought. She stood up straight and looked at Anita and said, ‘Who's
your
father?'

There was another silence, and all eyes went to Flossy the Floozy.

Anita said, ‘Well, Floss?
Mum?
Who is my father? Tell me, who should I call
Dad
?'

Well, Cecily, you've never seen anything like it in all your life. Florence was white as kidney fat, the newspaper in her hand shaking.

Walter took his sunglasses off and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Ray picked up the picture of Lance in his army uniform among the splintered glass, and all I can say is I was relieved my bladder was empty because, Cecily, I felt very loose, very lost for control of my vital functions. As I was looking at Anita, I saw him. I saw Lance in her. Her eyes were her mother's, ice-blue, but it was the way her face was put together, and her thick hair, and that square nose. The Blandon nose. Pudding saw it too, and she said, ‘Cool, Gran, you've got another daughter,' and I heard poor Walter grunt, as if someone had trodden on his stomach. He got up and walked in a little circle, ran his hand through his hair, dislodging his careful curl.

Ray put his hand in Ruby's curls and said, ‘And that also means you've got another grand-daughter.'

Little Ruby clapped her little brown hands together, ‘Goody,' and jumped up and down, rattling the plates in the kitchen bureau.

Walter made a sort of strangled sob then, his face in his hands, leaning on the fridge.

Anita said, somewhat thinly, ‘I'm happy to have a lovely new stepmother.'

Judith said, ‘You got any bastard kids out there, Barry?' and Pud got excited. ‘Have I got secret brothers and sisters?'

‘You can move out, Barry,' Judith said. ‘DeeAndra and I will keep the house.'

‘Fine,' Barry said, still staring at the back step.

At this point I stood up, unbuttoned my frock at the front, unfastened the pearls looped around my waist and handed them to Judith.

‘Goody,' she said, and Pud took off all Judith's gold chains straightaway and fastened the pearls in place for her – two strands of lustrous, cream Mikimotos around her neck. She had on a plain,
boat-necked blouse, and I must say the pearls did look lovely on her.

‘They look fantastic, Mum,' Pud said. ‘Barry'll buy her matching earrings for her fiftieth, won't you, Dad?'

‘Anything. I'll do anything.'

Pud said, ‘I've just got to tell Tyson, he'll love this,' and ran down the hall, her strappy high heels banging on the lino. With that, Ray, Ruby and Anita came and stood with me and Florence and Walter, and looked through the kitchen door to Faye and Joye on the couch, like beached whales. Then Judith came and stood with us. ‘Looks like you've got yourselves a flatmate called Eunice.'

Faye said, ‘You'll be hearing from us,' and she and Joye hauled themselves up and waded off down the hall, the air behind them brightening as they went.

Anita made sweet black tea, and that's when I thought of it. I should have guessed. The tea. Lance had obviously taught Florence how to make tea properly, the way I made it.

Lance always said, ‘If nothing else, Margery, you make the best pot of tea in Australia.'

I thought it was a compliment at the time, but now I see everything in an entirely new slant.

Anita said, ‘I remember Lance, he sat at the end of the bar leaning against the wall.'

‘The top spot,' Florence said, ‘opposite the front door, between the telly and the pool table on the way to the men's toilet.'

‘He gave me fifty cents once,' Anita said and started crying. Ruby patted her thigh.

‘It was a long time ago,' Ray said.

I said, ‘It doesn't feel like it at this precise moment, thank you, Raymond.'

Of course, the problem of what to do with Florence remained.

‘She can go and stay with Walter,' I said. ‘He deserves her. Betrayer.'

‘I never betrayed you, Mumsy. I swear to God, I never knew, and I've got my hygiene test Tuesday.' Walter skipped, changing feet, so that one of the plates in my bureau fell and smashed. That crockery set was a wedding gift from my parents.

‘Flossy the Floozy,' I said, and she shot back, quick as a flash, ‘How do you think I feel? Having to live with the woman who wouldn't let Lance go so we could get married.'

‘He never asked to be let go.'

‘He did.'

‘Didn't.'

‘Did too.'

‘He didn't. I'd have let him go.'

That shut her up for a second.

‘He never asked?' she said.

‘Never.'

‘Lying bastard.'

It was too much for Walter. He went out to the clothesline, walked round and round.

The entire truth about everything came out that afternoon. Goodness gracious me . . . the things I didn't know . . .

In the end, they all slunk off and left us there, together.

Ruby gave us both a kiss and said she'd like to keep us both. ‘And,' she said, ‘it'd be convenient for me if you stayed in the same house.'

Anita wanted to take Florence with her, but Ray wouldn't have any of it. ‘They may as well settle things now,' he said.

I settled it alright. ‘Pack your bags.'

‘All right then,' she sniffed, ‘be like that.' Then she squeaked out the front.

I shut the door and left her there on the verandah, sitting on her wheelie frame with her blue and white striped bag and her fine legs crossed and her red painted nails, smoking a cigarette, like a tart at a bus stop.

I was gutted. Again. A little red devil in my heart was sawing big chunks off and chucking them down into my stomach.

The cross-stitched work basket cover –
Great things are done when men and mountains meet
– I used for a lavatory lid cover. It fitted, with a bit of adjusting. I'd just got back inside and sat down to watch the travel show with the sherry bottle when there was a knock at the door. I tried to ignore it. I knew it was something to do with
her,
but it just kept on and on, so in the end I opened it up and there they were – that blasted constable and Flossy the Floozy, holding a stubby of beer.

‘Lock her up. She's an adulteress.'

‘Adultery isn't a crime in this country, Mrs Blandon.'

It was a heartless thing to say if ever I heard one and, as you now see, the constable was a conspirator as well.

I said, ‘She's a pyromaniac as well,' just as Tyson walked past. Flossy called out, ‘Give us another cigarette, willya, love?'

I told Constable Morgan to go away and closed the door, but he simply showed up at my back door. ‘I don't suppose I could trouble you for a cup of tea. Please?'

‘You're an irritating, heartless boy.'

‘I know. How are you going with the powdered milk?'

I ignored him because I knew that he could see the packet sitting on the table and the little jug I mixed it in. Mostly for Florence, actually.

‘My grandmother did very well on it,' he said.

‘You told me that. I'm not stupid, you know.'

He popped the kettle on and got out the cups and saucers. ‘I can see that, so that's why I want you to settle your differences with your friend.'

‘She's not my ruddy friend! She's a thief – she stole my husband.'

‘Mrs Blandon, your husband died twenty years ago when his leaky oxygen cylinder blew up in the pub, triggering an explosion of the gas heating system.'

‘They have a forty-year-old daughter together and she's still alive! And I'm sheltering the adulteress who gave birth to her! I'm living with the mother of my husband's illegitimate child,
and
, if it wasn't for that very same floozy, Walter wouldn't have got all upset and punched my son, Morris, and he wouldn't have gone to Thailand and ended up in jail!'

‘Think of what the consequences could have been for other people's sons if he'd got to Australia with his suitcase,' he said. ‘Some people don't care that they ruin other people's lives.'